[Orig] Winter Fire, Prologue
[Orig] Winter Fire - Prologue
Ionium-verse, the first formally written part of my original fiction.

If you're reading this, tell me if it's too confusing? The names and the terminology are supposed to be explained in subsequent chapters, but my writing style is slightly weird in this one, and I'm starting to wonder if I'm abusing ellipses. But mainly, I'm wondering if I'm leaving too many things unexplained.

Warnings: Language, non-graphic violence.

Winter Fire

Project begun: 14^th April 2006

Part 2 of the Ionium verse: Rufen and Kedron’s story.

Prologue

“Commander, we have a situation.”

Streets fled by him. The strange fire burned through his mind and raced down to his fingertips, a maelstrom of song and fury. Behind, the sky was drenched in red by leaping flames from a not-so-distant blaze.

“One rogue elemental user was spotted on Cadris Nesliv.”

A blaze that he had caused, fires that had sprung to sudden life through the power that tore through him. He remembered the screams, dimly, the memory of it already slipping away. Death was no stranger to him, not when he lived in the slums of the city. His mind’s eye was filled instead with the roar as –

“Killed two civilians and was the apparent cause of a fire a back alley. Eye-witness reports are inconsistent, although it is generally agreed that he utilized a bolt-based attack against two assailants. The bolt fireballed…

--the entire back garden of a house had gone up in flames. He must have run then, for he was here now, racing through narrow streets on the fastest route of the city. The cops would be all over him and it’d be jail for life, for sure. He’d set those two punks on fire. He knew they were dead, or they would be. He’d only meant to scare them, but the Power had sung, and if there was ever such a thing as a chorus of angels…

“He’s not in our records, sir. He appears to be a youth of about twelve—“

“—Impossible. No one could ignite a fire of that magnitude without training.”

They were here. The secret police. The Carithwan. He had seen one out of the corner of his eye, a flash of gray uniform ducking down a side street, and then the sense of something unearthly clawing across his senses. They knew. They knew. They were after him and there wouldn’t be any escape. They’d cut him down, gun him down like a dog in the streets. These strangers from Orias, they were the ones the townsfolk spoke of in hushed whispers. They were the ones who came once a year in the dead of winter, arriving in their offworld shuttles and taking people away as sacrifices to these Spirits that they worshipped as gods.

“Cadris Nesliv, independent colony. Not particularly Ionium-friendly.”

“No sir.”

“Advise them to handle this with due caution. We may have an instance of rogue talent on our hands, not actual hostility.”

A beep.

“An update, sir. It seems that the team leader got a preliminary reading on him…”

“And?”

“…And you won’t believe this, sir.”

“Halt!”

They’d set up a road block ahead of him – ‘rovers with their signals flashing, the cops swarming all over the damn place, and just behind the blockade…

…It was Them. A guy and a girl, decked out in identical gray uniforms. And They were almost shining with the Power.

Fear lanced through his nerves, cold and sharp. He could feel more Power building around them, in the tingle of the sense that the others said they didn’t have: that electric tingle that prickled along his spine. His eyes met the guy’s from across the distance, and far away as he was, he could sense the sudden surge of Power around the other.

I have to stop him. I have to stop him now before he fires and kills me—

The Power blazed through him even before he knew it. Burning and furious, it was a massive tide that made the enemies’ auras pale in comparison. He couldn’t have pulled it if he tried; it was too fast, too much, and it was as if fire was engulfing him, burning him away. He barely had time to feel the sudden crush of pressure before something exploded. He screamed as it washed through him, arcing out towards it intended target.

“Sir! He just…”

“Commander, we lost contact with Shel and Darius – wait, Shel is online again, we’re patching her through now. Stand by…”

“—Oh great bleeding hells, he just ripped through Darius’ shields! Just like that! Oh god I hardly managed to deflect it myself, and all the civilians are dead…”

“Shel, we hear you. Pull back. Repeat, pull back. Do not engage.”

“He… there’s no way we can deal with something like that. He ripped through Darius’ shields. Ripped them apart like they were paper! If I wasn’t a shielder… oh gods…”

“Shel, calm down.”

“Base, we need an Ioniel. Kerathion or someone! Is the Commander there? Tell him—“

“Give me that. Lieutenant Shel. Do you copy?”

“Sir! Sir, I’m so sorry, I’m—“

“Lieutenant, sit tight. Reinforcements are on the way. Continue tracking the target, but do not engage at any cost. And keep your shields up.”

Smoke. So much smoke. He was on the ground without having registered falling. Hell’s balls. He wasn’t sure if he could move after that blast. The world was hazing in and out on strobes of pain. He had to move, though. Had to get away from here before more of Them appeared.

He shoved himself to hands and knees, retching. Bitter acid burned its way from stomach to tongue, and he spat it out, more sick than he could ever remember having been.

He was definitely damned this time. He had killed two Carithwan. While he couldn’t see through the smoke, he could feel that the auras that had surrounded them were gone.

It was a long minute before he could stand, grasping the wall to haul himself to shaky feet. Slowly, he staggered away from the carnage.

“3 shielders, 2 strikers. We have Kyril Gilthra on standby, but she’s offworld and it’ll take approximately fifteen minutes for the orders to go through, plus another thirty before she can acknowledge.”

“Thank you. Hold that order for now. We’ll see what we can do.”

“Should we contact the Circle, sir?”

“We exist to assist the Circle, not to burden them. There is no operative reason why a fully equipped squad cannot handle one rogue user.”

“Even one of Ioniel class?”

“My only concern at this juncture is that he may well kill himself from over-channelling. Especially if that last blast was any indicator. It must have hurt him tremendously.”

“We’ll have a Scinthra on standby, sir.”

“Commander, incoming transmission from Ioniel City. It’s Terion, sir.”

“Relay it to my console.”

He was at the city limits now, and They hadn’t stopped him. He spared one glance at the place where he had been born, whose streets had been the only home he had ever known. He knew loathed it with a fiery passion, yet that hatred seemed curiously absent now. All feeling seemed curiously absent. He felt drained to the limit, hollowed out until even emotion faded away and the world seemed to turn gray at the corners of his vision.

There was no going back now. Ducking his head, he slipped onto the road that would take him away.

“Trian? It’s Rikka.”

“Ma’am. What can I do for you?”

“I understand that you have quite a problem on your hands.”

“We have dispatched, or will dispatch, a team to deal with it, Ioniel. Unless the Circle has other orders.”

“The Circle does, as a matter of fact. Hold your team. We’ll deal with it personally.”

“Ma’am, I must formally register my disapproval. I understand that you are not yet recovered from the previous operation… taking on this rogue user would be incurring unnecessary risk.”

“You’ll lose more officers, Trian.”

“One hopes not.”

“This boy doesn’t know his strength. It’d be easier if you were trying to kill him. But taking him alive… he’s a fighter. It’s going to be a drawn out battle at best. At worst, he’ll burn himself out or bring down your side. You don’t even have a Gilthra on the team. An Ioniel could handle this with much more finesse.”

“I will not have you put your life on the line for something as insignificant as this.”

“He’s not that powerful—ah. I see. You fear a suicide strike.”

“He does not know how to control his power at all, Ioniel. And he is impulsive.”

“Fortunately, I will not be handling this. Vilheim is on his way. He should be at Cadris in a few minutes. Allay your fears, Commander.”