Private Come Herald or High Water

[Miren Rahulik]

YASHUVHU
MIDDAY

Heralds did not leave Maena.

For the near totality of the cult, that was and would forever remain true. What need, when Xoth-za had been born, raised, and fallen on that - the most perfect of planets? One day he would return to lead them all and not a single one wanted to be absent when he rose from the Flame. That there was a strict prohibition on travel off the world didn’t need to be said.

There were Heralds for whom this prohibition was lifted however, the very few deemed single-minded enough to hunt the enemies of Xoth-za and his people. Betrayers. Traitors. Apostates.

Azohra the Pyresworn was one such woman.

The jungle cackled and sang around her, ripe with life. The constant pitter patter of condensation falling from the sun-baked canopy above was unlike Maena’s swathes of swallowing, desert silence though not unpleasant to her. Not distracting. She was never distracted. The four Heralds trailing behind her - of varying strengths in the Flame, but all enough to have been considered worthy of this excursion - murmured amongst each other as they moved slowly and otherwise silently through the jungle, but Azohra was not listening.

Tracking Miren Rahulik had required creativity, as all search endeavors within her cult’s strict rules. The help of allied Maenan natives who could fly and navigate, and primarily word of mouth, were their greatest boons. Azohra had never heard of this Firemane but she knew that hardly meant much. She wouldn’t have known who Darth Vader was either. Of course it was a most dangerous target. Firemane’s people were equipped with all sorts of technology that would be utterly foriegn in use to the Heralds. They fought against Maenans with technology, but fighting against it and knowing its intricacies personally were not the same. And among Firemane there were said to be more than a few Force users of frightening ability. But Miren Rahulik was the worst kind of apostate. It did not matter what it took to eliminate her. And that was all Azohra needed to know.

She might have been High Priestess, were it not for her single-mindedness. Leading required the ability to juggle, to measure, to consider many aspects of a problem and select the best solution. Azohra, as intelligent as she was, served the Heralds much better as an enraged, mailed fist. It was rumored that no one truly knew how old she was though there was proof of her exploits during the Age of Heroes hundreds of thousands of years prior. A pure addiction to the Flame, a lifeforce fuelled purely by the need for more. She had little use for confirming those things, but neither was she denying them.

Weeks and weeks of tracking, many of their leads fruitless, had led to watching the dropship come from the sky carrying Miren Rahulik and whatever pathetic friends she’d taken refuge with. But no longer - and now, they would pay for her crimes as well. All five Heralds fell quiet as they moved through the jungle towards where the dropship had landed far in the distance.

Elpsis Kerrigan​

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

Miren Rahulik

Training, discovery, struggle. That was what made a soldier stronger. That was what made their instincts sharper. Marching around on the Forge and hitting training dummies or practice droids would not do. And sitting around all day and meditating in a temple was for Jedi. No surprise they snapped all the time in battle since they had not learned how to cope.

So with that in mind, Elpsis had brought some of her minions to Yashuvhu, a fringe world dotted with forests and mountains. It would be their forge. When the dropship descended from the sky, the rag-tag band of misfits was greeted by delightful Yashuvhu weather. Dark clouds, rain pouring down from the sky. The perfect start for any adventure.

"Trees, and, you guessed it, more trees, you sure we're not on your homeworld, squid?" Reverence asked Nuroch sardonically as the transport came in to land.
"Not enough chemicals. Trees still have leaves. Wonder whether this place has mushrooms, too."
"Personal experience with those, huh?"
"Had to stay entertained somehow. Nothing good to watch on telly," he frowned. "The second part hasn't changed. Two hundred channels and only bad talent shows." He could not understand why 'Corellia Seeks the Superstar' was so popular. For one, the main judge seemed like an abusive, egomaniacal creep to him.

The transport landed, throwing up earth along the way. The hatch opened, and the team fanned out. All soldiers were kitted out in full Firemane gear, including a heavy backpack. This obviously weighed them down. That was the point. Spreading out in front of the transport, they held weapons at the ready. But no beast or sentient foe assailed them...yet.

Sergeant Vagt Bwi'kat, a tough-looking Bothan and the only Non-Force-User in the group, scanned the area ahead of them with his macrobinoculars. "Clear, ma'am," he reported crisply. "Stay focused people. Eyes open, ears sharp. This isn't a holiday trip," he reminded the minions gruffly.

"No, it's not," Elpsis agreed. "Girls, see that wall over there?" she pointed at a steep, though not insurmountable rock wall that barred their path. "That's why you brought climbing gear. We're gonna scale it."
"Lady Kerrigan would fly up or move the wall," Sano quipped.
"And you're not Lady Kerrigan. You'd fall on your arse and we'd have to clean up the mess. Do you have a point to make, Private?" Vagt demanded sharply.
"Uh, no, Sarge," the Togruta said quickly.
"And even if you were, it would be a waste of energy," Elpsis remarked bluntly. "You can't rely on the Force or fancy tech, for that matter, for everything. Now get your arse moving. Watch out for irregularities in the rock. Finger pockets, edges etc. They'll help you. No Force use, no jetpacks."
"The spirits' power is not a toy to make your life easier. And the technology you sky people so love is like a chain around your neck," a pale, dark-haired wood elf commented. Her name was Shikoba. Her Basic was heavily accented and her voice a bit high-pitched.

"Monkeighs," Celaena muttered under her breath, shooting Sano an annoyed look, having already gotten out her climbing gear.
"Not a monkeigh," Sano grumbled.
"No, you're even stupider," the Eldorai retorted. Glancing at Zhaleh, her expression softened a bit and she called out to the Qadiri ice mage, "come on, little sister."

"Taller than you, pale sister," Zhaleh retorted, though her grumbling seemed feigned. "Bet you I'm at the top first." By chance or design, she was positioned close to the team's sole Maenan member. "Let's show the sky people what we can do," she spoke good-naturedly, preparing the rope to climb up. She was not unused to strenuous activity in the outdoors, though the land she'd grown up in had been characterised by ice and snow instead of green forests. She was no natural climber and struggled a bit, but persevered.

'Sky people' was how many Tygarans referred to people from outer space. Technically it would have applied to Miren, but Zhaleh seemed to have decided to informally 'adopt' the Maenan as another fish out of water. Assuming the team scaled the rock wall, they would find a stream heading over a waterfall blocking their path.

To lead by example, Elpsis had applied a rope and started to ascend cautiously, pulling herself up to each ledge, and getting a firm grasp as she did so. There was an element of risk, but manageable if one kept a clear head and moved steadily. The heavy backpack was an impediment, but that was the point of the exercise.

While some seemed to be struggling, Shikoba climbed cautiously, but fluidly. "If it brings you comfort, I haven't seen any of you plunge to your doom from bad ropes, so if you perish, it will be for another reason. Or mayhaps your fall will only be crippling."
"You're a big ball of sunshine," Reverence grumbled under her breath.

 

[Miren Rahulik]

Life had been exhausting recently, though not in ways she’d complain about. Her brain just felt fried on new experiences, protocols, ways of speaking and behaving - and keeping up with this tightly-knit group. She’d learned pretty quickly that while some of her particular challenges were unique to her, that she was a fish out of water in general was nothing special here. She’d gotten comfortable quickly. Even still, she tried not to gape like an idiot when the door to the ship dropped open to let them all out and the sheer greenery of Yashuvhu graced her vision. Instead she focused on the weight of her pack as an anchor to the physical task at hand, keeping her head from floating to the clouds.

The Lady Kerrigan was mentioned a lot which made sense considering she owned Firemane, and Miren would admit to more than a passing curiosity about the woman with how the others spoke about her. She’d had the sense not to ask directly though, as she didn’t need to be a mentalist to discern there was some degree of ‘it’s complicated’ between Elpsis and Kerrigan. But no doubt she’d learn soon enough, what with these lovable motormouths.

Securing a rope around herself, she flexed her fingers before reaching for the first lip of rock that would allow her to begin her climb. She was certainly not as graceful as some of her companions scaling ahead of her, but she had the distinct advantage of having done similar things on a planet that was so hot that non-natives sometimes died just sitting and trying to keep cool. Yashuvhu, however rainy, was a relative vacation compared to exerting herself back home. Even still, she was careful to have a solid grip each time she moved lest the rocks get slick.

“There’s a first time for everything!” she quipped to Shikoba - a good-natured joke, one that came softened by a little grin as she looked up at the much quicker elf.

Concentrate now...
​

___________
​

Azohra could smell running water and something more open than the dense loam of pure jungle somewhere ahead of her group, and she signalled to them to slow. There was an immediate hush to their quiet conversation as they fell in to arrangement behind her.

She was human, but none of the four behind her were. A female Barabel, Soren, was the other equivalent master - an enormous, perpetually enraged-looking representative of her species. A Togruta and Twi’lek were what the rest of the galaxy might understand as Knights. Koneki and Zyy were Flame-bonded, sisters in all but blood, and almost as vicious as Azohra when it came to traitors. The last and lone male among them was a Quarren acolyte who showed some promise with battle meditation. All five paused on the edge of the jungle’s cover, lowering themselves in to cover as they observed the drop ship far below. Further along down the cliffs was the group scaling the rocks towards where the small river lazed over in to a waterfall.

“That’s her,” voiced Koneki, a voice so deep it was startling to those who did not know her. “I wouldn’t miss her anywhere.”

“Let’s move,” Azohra answered, motioning to her group to move through the treeline along the cliffs to get closer to the group. So many friends their little apostate had made. Someone else might have said it was a shame to see the amount of impending collateral, but Azohra had stopped counting centuries ago.

Elpsis Kerrigan​

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

Miren Rahulik

Up the squad went, with varying degrees of enthusiasm and proficiency. Miren and Shikoba seemed to be on the upper end of the scale when it came to the latter, whereas it was more of a struggle for Nuroch and Sano. Elpsis moved slowly. The old leg injury was not conducive to speed, and while the rock wall was far from insurmountable, it merited caution, especially since unlike her comrades she had to rely on her sense of touch to find irregularities in the rock and determine whether a rock might slide.

"For some the first is the last," Shikoba responded to Miren.
"If I was about to fall, you'd tell me, right?" Reverence asked.
"Mayhaps me telling you is what causes it," was the Vashyada's cryptic response.
"Or you're just messing with us," the Dahomian grumbled.

Some beads of sweat dripped down Zhaleh's face, as she doggedly scaled up the wall. She was not unused to strenuous activity outdoors, but the climate was more humid than she was used to. Plus she had a heavy backpack. "Shikoba is strange. She sees the dead. They say she traversed the void and...sometimes her mind is still half-there. But she saved us from a horde of monsters once," she confessed to the Maenan.

"Focus," Vagt chided them gruffly, though perhaps Miren got a response of her own in before that. It took time, but eventually the team managed to reach the top of the wall. Before them loomed a stream heading over a waterfall. The smell of water and algae was strong in the humid air. Birds could be heard chirping.

Detaching the rope and taking in their surroundings, Elpsis took a breath. "No slowing down, people. We're gonna cross over the stream," she ordered.
"Pardon me, ma'am, can't we just down that tree to make a bridge?" Sano suggested. "That would be quicker." And mean they would not have to wade through a stream where the water was guaranteed to reach their waist. "A sabre could cut right through it. Let me try." Not waiting for an order, she swung her blue lightsabre, then groaned in frustration when the sturdy tree proved to thick to slice through.

"That tree is part of Mother Earth, fool. It has more of a purpose than you," Shikoba muttered caustically to herself in Prosabia.
"And now that you've proven my point, Private, stop. We're wading right through the river. And you're going to stand in the middle and pass equipment across."
Sano grimaced. "Yes, ma'am."
Some sniggering could be heard in the group. However, Elpsis' blind eyes homed in on Reverence. "And since you like to boast about your muscles so much, Private Reverence, you'll help her. Make sure nothing gets wet."

"Sure...I'll make sure she doesn't drop anything," the Dahomian said with feigned enthusiasm. Deep down, Celaena felt some satisfaction at the misfortune of the two, though she was smart enough not to noice it. Wading through a river was hardly fun, but she understood the purpose and she would not show weakness in front of monkeighs. Nuroch was among those not complaining as he made his way into the water, even when it started rising. It was, after all, his element. However, he stiffened as waded through. Something was off. His senses expanded as the Force guided his mind.

 

[Miren Rahulik]

Bunking with Zhaleh had been an unexpected joy. The first few nights had been spent carefully considering one another, laying on their backs in their respective bunks, staring at the ceiling and trading stories about Tygara and Maena. As their comfort with each other grew, Miren shared what she’d run from and explained Xoth-za and the Flame, devouring in turn information about Kashara and the gods that accompanied her. By the end of the week they were hiding conversations after lights out, making each other laugh with tales of hunting and exploring and the exploits of the Firemane misfits at large. She wasn’t quite sure how to say it yet without coming across as sappy, but she was grateful to Zhaleh for the kindness she’d shown almost without question.

“You mean like necroma--” Miren started before she was reprimanded in to silence. She was never sincerely being rude, not when her position and acceptance among these people mattered so fiercely to her, but she suddenly felt bad. It had been a joke, but who knew what Shikoba had seen…

The river would present more of a challenge for Miren than the climb had. There were oceans on Maena, but large bodies of running water were few and far between. She could swim passably, but she wasn’t confident that she could get herself out of trouble if she were to get unbalanced in the waist-deep current, however meandering it was. She shifted her backpack, watching Nuroch wade in with a natural grace that she assumed would allow her to see the best places to stand and move.

She was so distracted by nerves that she nearly missed that her unease wasn’t solely the prospect of drowning. She couldn’t have known Nuroch felt it too, but alarm bells started ringing in her mind with an urgency that frightened her. Looking to Elpsis supervising the crossing, she trotted over and hoped she wasn’t interrupting. “Lieutenant - I think something’s wrong.”

No sooner had she gotten the words out did the rain, to this point steady and predictable, slacken and die off with an unnatural suddenness. Azohra stepped out from the treeline in to that sudden ear-ringing silence, the wet stone of the riverbed hissing against the unnaturally warm heat of her step. She appeared to be alone, a hard-looking woman dressed in skin-tight dark red clothing with a robe draped carelessly overtop, red chainmail peeking out in glimpses with each step she took. She did not walk towards the group, instead towards the shoreline.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry,” Miren managed in a whisper, fear choking her. Here? They’d found her, and here? Oh Flame...every single one of these people, who had taken her in, fed her and clothed her and given her a second chance, who’d shown her kindness - they were going to die because she’d been chased out here by her past. “They found me. We have to get out of here,” she said to Elpsis, sudden determination to do whatever it took to fix this mess steeling her. Remember what she taught you: fear keeps you alive. What you must not do, is let it control you.
​

_______________
​

By that time though, Azohra had ignored every command shouted at her to halt and put her hands up, and instead squatted down by the edge of the river and reached her hand in as if to check the temperature. For a moment nothing seemed to happen and then with appalling speed the entire river erupted in a boil, massive rolling bubbles erupting over the surface as Azohra’s grotesque power poured in to it. Surely whoever was making the crossing would be taken out swiftly by the agony of being boiled alive, making the task of capturing Miren twice as easy.

By then of course, if they hadn’t already, Miren’s doomed friends would be fighting back. Soren, Koneki, and Zyy flooded from the treeline, enormous gouts of flame erupting from their hands to lick at anyone rushing Azohra. The Quarren acolyte, Mistavah, sat nestled high in a tree, eyes closed and meditating as he started to gather together the minds of his sisters in battle.
​

Elpsis Kerrigan​

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

Miren Rahulik

It all happened so fast. One moment things were normal. Zhaleh noticed Miren's discomfort when they approached the river. "Come. Just follow him," she said softly, pointing at Nuroch. "Not that deep. Keep your gear out. If the rifle gets a bit wet, don't worry. Just don't let it get drenched." Giving the Maenan an encouraging pat on the shoulder, she stepped into the stream. The water had soon engulfed her legs. Then within the blink of an eye everything went to hell.

"Contact!" Nuroch spoke in alarm. "Force-Users. Several."
He had sensed them through his Zari, and Zhaleh heard their movements with her keen elf ears. Her senses directed her to the trees, and she quickly trotted through the stream to cover Reverence and Sano, who were still in the middle of passing the heavy gear along.

She brought up her rifle. Her instincts screamed inside her mind, telling her this was a threat. "Halt! Identity yourself!" she called out, rifle aimed at the unknown figures. She could sense formidable power emanating from them. Her Maenan companion had meanwhile been crossing the distance to Elpsis. Alarm was written over her features.

Elpsis gave the Maenan one look, then another at the unknown figures on the shore. Her jaw was set with determination. "Then we kill them," she said simply.
"Champions, engage!" Vagt bellowed, readying his large grenade launcher, "Give cover to Kardok, Akul..." Those were the call signs of Reverence and Tahoka. For obscure reasons, the platoon had a liking for animal-themed call signs. Whatever else he wanted to say was drowned out when the river suddenly became a boiling inferno. Fucking hell.

The squad was able to get off a few scattered shots and some Force blasts, before the entire river turned into an unimaginably hot cauldron. A bubble erupted beneath Zhaleh and she screamed in agony, falling into the boiling water. She could hear screams of pain. She heard Celaena yelling, both in anger and pain. Desperately, she tried to call upon her kindred element, ice, to shield her as she felt she was being boiled alive. But it was heat like she had never felt before. Fear gripped her like a vice. Fear and shame for failing her warband. I'm sorry, father.

And the heat began to be drained from the river.

Elpsis had been standing in the middle of the stream, having been busy supervising the crossing and making sure Tahoka and Reverence did not run into trouble. Then all hell had broken loose. Some motherkarking cultists were hurting her squad. They needed to get out of the river and kill them all. They could not fight them and endure the boiling water. They would be cooked inside their armour. The decision was simple. She could endure it. And so she pulled the heat into herself. The cracks in her flesh glowed fiercely, widening. It was like lava was bleeding through her flesh, overwhelming it from the inside out. Her white eyes flared as jets of flame struck her.

"Move!" she yelled, throat burning. Her cybernetic arm burnt red-hot as she channelled her power through it. A robotic finger melted. The intensity was such that she almost doubled over and fell into the water, but she persevered. Fire and heat in all its manifestations were Elpsis' element, but even so there was a limit the human body could take in. Flesh burnt; flesh melted in places. Her flesh and blood hand was charred. Smoke coiled from her armour.

A loud bark, akin to the sound of a thunderclap, could be heard when Vagt squeezed the trigger on his heavy bolter, sending a fussilade of large explosive shells flying towards the enemy. Where water had seeped through his armour, fur had been burnt away and flesh had been scalded and the recoil went right to his shoulder, but he fired.

Each shell would detonate on impact - any impact. Alas, the spare ammunition happened to be in one of the crates Reverence had been carrying, so he did not have many rounds to fire, but it would make a big bang while he could. He strongly doubted a Force mistress who could apparently turn a river into an inferno would be killed by it. But if she was not experienced with modern technology, she might think she could deflect it with telekinesis and end up with it blowing up in her face and injuring her. If not, simply being forced to counter it would buy a little time.

"Don't try to dive. Get out!" he yelled to make himself heard over the cacophony of sound. The natural inclination would be to go underwater, but that would be just as dangerous as the fire in the air would suck the oxygen into itself. "Squid, Kardok, help who you can. Pyros, absorb and shield. Bear, cool the pyros!" Bear was Zhaleh's call sign. With their elemental powers, Elpsis, Miren and Celaena were the best equipped to channel the heat away, but even they would have limits.

"Ashira! Valora!" Celaena called out, breathing laboured and voice choked with pain. She did not know who these aliens were, though they seemed to have something to do with the newcomer. She also did not particularly care. They were hurting some of the few monkeighs she actually liked. People who did not lecture her about how she should be grateful to 'the Great Saviour Siobhan'. Zhaleh, where the hell are you? She had lost the Qadiri. But as she tried to catch sight of her, she was licked by a fireball, narrowly avoiding the full brunt.

As the Lieutenant faltered, the Eldorai reached out with her powers to, as far as possible, channel away the heat in the water and the fireballs being hurled at them. Intense pain and strain were written across her features. "New girl!" she yelled. "Meld with me!" Her words lacked their usual venom. Instead they were marked by desperation. There is no goddess but Ashira, and the Eldorai are her children, she repeated in her mind. Come on, arseholes. Heat surged across her body like wild fire. She felt like her light armour was being cooked. Her powers provided her with some protection, but she was but an acolyte. She could feel herself getting close to overloading, and staggered when a fireball struck her. Searing pain surged through her body.

Zhaleh felt like she was drowning in the blazing inferno. Hot water was flooding her lungs. Then suddenly a hand grabbed her and she was pulled up. And the heat seemed to recede. She coughed up water, and found herself staring at a rather scalded Nuroch. "Get on my back," he growled. She did not immediately understand, still shaken, so he added, "jump. Don't need to breathe, remember?" It had been intended as a hiking exercise, so the squad was not wearing its full panopoly of gear, such as breathing equipment. But a Nautolan could breathe underwater. Still shaken, she climbed on top. Her weight pushed him down further into the depths, but she drew her Zari into her muscles and leapt, with his telekinetic powers giving her a further boost.

A jet of flame, unleashed by one of the Heralds, singed her. But she was too pumped full of adrenaline to pay it much heed as it burnt her. Besides, she was already in a lot of pain. She landed hard, rolling on the ground to put out the fire. She was breathing heavily and her heart thumped inside her chest as she regained her bearings. Her warrior instincts compelled her to engage the enemies throwing gousts of flame at her comrades, but then she beheld Celaena and Elpsis, struggling to hold back the flaming tide. The sight made her gasp.

Cold resolution filled her. Now that she was out of the blazing inferno, she could draw upon her kindred element with greater ease. Her gauntlets retracted, and cool liquid spread across her burnt palms. It soon coalesced into ice. She directed it not towards their attackers, but towards the pyromancers in the water. Not to freeze them, but to cool them down before they overloaded.

Amidst all the chaos, the heavy equipment had been dropped. The crates had at least given Tahoka and Reverence some cover against the fireballs. But not against the hot water. When boiling bubbles started appearing beneath them, Tahoka dropped the big crate and manifested a weak telekinetic bubble around herself and Reverence. It shielded them a little bit from the flames and the boiling bubbles.

Then a crate with heavy ordnance erupted. The blast slammed into the barrier. Hot shards of shrapnel scorched their armour and sent stabs of pain surging through their bodies. It was agony; it was chaos. In pain from having her feet burnt by the water, Reverence made a snap decision. "Drop it," she grunted, meaning the barrier.
"Rev!" Tahoka cried out when the strong Dahomian suddenly grabbed her. The Force surged through Reverence's muscles, even as the burns intensified and the fire drew closer. And she physically flung the Togruta through the air with all her might. Tahoka flew through the fire, trying to shield herself.

And she landed hard. Burns marked her body. Blood dripped from a headtail. Her body hurt from the impact. But there was no sight of Reverence. When she turned, she saw only fire where she and the Dahomian had once stood. A lump formed in her throat. No, no, you're fine, she took a breath. Angry eyes fell upon the villains tossing fireballs. Three fire mages were clustered together, bombarding the team with huge fireballs. Every instinct - and ego - drove her to draw her lightsabre and charge these villains like Ahsoka and Shaak Ti would surely have, but she was...outmatched.

With somewhat shaky hands, she grabbed her sidearm. Her rifle had been lost somewhere in the inferno, but she had grenade and a hard-sound gun. The gun was heavy, and she thanked her lucky stars the Sergeant had insisted she train with it despite her protests about it being a crude weapon for an uncivilised time. Retrieving a frag grenade from her belt, she set it to explode on impact, pulled the pin, counted down, and hurled the deadly ball. Balancing the heavy pistol, she fired off shots towards the Togruta. The recoil hurt like the dickens, pushing her back a step.

Shikoba happened to be in the rear and thus the closest to the surface the squad had left when the inferno began to consume the river. Pain shoot upward through her feet and legs, but so did sorrow. She felt sadness not hatred when she saw these fire mages rain down pointless, savage destruction. Wherever she went, people carelessly threw away life's gifts. Simply staring into the aura of the apparent leader of their attackers was enough to make her feel nauseous from the multitude of ghosts that coalesced around her, all screaming and wailing. "This fire is not cleansing and renewing, it is destructive. Nature revolts against your intrusion." A fireball kissed her and she staggered, in pain. The water beneath her burnt. A layer rock wrapped around her flesh, was burnt through and manifested again.

But she could see Zhaleh and Tahoka on the other side. They were helping, but vulnerable. She could not reach them in time. But she could help, even if that left herself open. She beseeched the Mother Earth for succour against the despoilers and Mother Earth answered. Beads of sweat dripped down her forehead and wild dark hair. With a surge of energy, the forest floor came alive beneath the Twi'lek fire mage, though they would reach further if they could. Vines, and roots surged upward, trying to grasp at them to seize bodies like vice-grips. The earth itself would become a swamp, trying to drag anyone close enough into the abyss.

 

[Miren Rahulik]

For Azohra, pyromancy was the closest thing to a true high she’d ever experienced. For just a moment she closed her eyes as the water boiled at her command, inhaling deeply of melted flesh and superheated earth. She didn’t much hear screams anymore, irrelevant as they were to her enjoyment of her gift. She could not see the ghosts clambering in her wake and even then she would not have been bothered by their unfathomable multitude. Xoth-za demanded justice, Maena demanded protection. All else was explained away by moral politicking best left to those among her people who thought such notions deserved consideration.

When her eyes opened again she saw her: a beacon; red, burning veins weeping a dangerous threat as she gathered the heat towards herself like the drowning towards a riptide. Azohra could feel the threads of her connection with the Flame being pulled towards the red-haired woman through the water, a frightening determination Azohra had faced only a handful of times at best. Delicious, glorious ability wasted on something other than Xoth-za’s service. And the Hunter was even more infuriated to realize she recognized this one. She had come to one of the Temples once, an event that just so happened to coincide with the first appearance of Eyaer in millenia. She could ponder on that coincidence later. More pressing was that this woman must have known what Miren was and sheltered her anyway.

Now she was no longer collateral damage in the pursuit of securing Miren. She and her people would have to be destroyed as enemies of Xoth-za themselves.

As the blare of warning in the Flame alerted her to the danger of the weapon pointed at her, she had to leave the water, relieving those still trapped within of the worst of the heat though it would take some time to dissipate.

Steadying herself, she reached her palms outwards and from them billowed a wall of flame so gleaming and vehement that it caught the bolt in its embrace. The weapon’s power superheated those pieces of the barrier it collided with in impacts like thunder, shrapnel spiraling off in dangerous directions and revealing red crystallized patches in the wall construct she maintained. And when she let go of that barrier, those crystallized pieces flew outwards like knives, shards of molten napalm that would hit whomever was unfortunate enough to be within range.​

______________​

New girl, meld with me!

Miren could barely pull herself from the horror that had walked out from the treeline, boiling water searing through light armor the only thing keeping her senses from completely floating away. She knew this warfare. It was the Herald way to come in quick, hard, and relentless. The Eyaer, though thought to be extinct until recently, were almost undying and the only way to kill them was to overwhelm them. Through the millenia Heralds had developed a distinct fighting technique of working together so attacks came almost without surcrease, a chained style that sought an opening and then capitalized on it viciously so an opponent could not catch their breath. She had never been on this side of it.

Back then it had seemed righteous. Now it seemed… Smoke was starting to choke the sky, the air redolent with the smells of ozone and cooking flesh. She could barely hear for the shouts of command and screams of pain. The bloom of fire in a huge wall, the crack of thunder. Everywhere the splashing as they sought to get out, a red frenzy of coordination to escape this encroaching madness. Animals in the area ran, birds blasted from the treeline to flee. Her shoes were melting against the riverbed’s stones, threatening to pull her down and drown her as the bottoms of her feet screamed. …now, it just seemed evil.

She had brought this on them, and she would do anything it took to get them out.

She threw herself in with Celaena, feeling something between them open up between them as their power merged. A gap, widening in the Flame, in which all that access heat could be dumped. It did, of course, have to pass through them. Miren felt as if her bones were pulling apart, the fluid in her joints boiling away, her eyes too big in their sockets as they expanded in the searing heat. The fire had grown tired of just their flesh and sought dissolution, to burn them out of their own cages before it took their lives. She wasn’t sure if she was screaming or if that was someone else or if it was all of them but she opened herself wide to Celaena to draw from, if they could just --

Azohra had stood up, attention drawn elsewhere, and the heat in the water cooled by a fraction without her actively heating it. The river’s steady rush would soon bring cooler water from upstream but if they didn’t move, they’d never feel it. She reached out to pull at Celaena, hissing in horror as part of her palm sloughed off where it had blistered and died which distracted her from the possibility that Celaena might punch her for the intrusion. All she could think about was getting out of the water.

She stumbled over the rocky shoreline, the bottoms of her feet seared to red, raw pain. Celaena’s armor was steaming and Miren was about to ask if she were okay (as okay as she could be) when the sensation of ice - just a little, just enough, oh thank the flame just enough - washed over her. She whipped her head around to see Zhaleh, a determined look on her face, doing her best to lower what they were up against. And then she saw the explosion, saw Tahoka go flying and no Reverence to be seen. She swallowed a scream, knowing she needed to concentrate.

“They’re going to have someone hidden. Someone who’s meditating and coordinating their fight. If we find them we’ll have a better chance!”​

______________​

Koneki saw the frag grenade coming, but alas, had never encountered a hard-sound gun. Any plan she may have had for the grenade was lost in the sudden deafening bang that sent her reeling. Hard earth ground in to her back as she landed, but worse was the gaping wound in the lower right of her abdomen she saw as she tried to spring to her feet. Some shrapnel from the grenade had torn right through her, exposing fat and muscle and rolling and peeking from that hole some no doubt vital organ. She would have to cauterize that but first…

She pushed herself from the ground, grabbing a handful of sand from the shoreline. She was quick, quicker than she had any right to be as she used telekinesis to draw blood from her wound in to a ball, shove the handful of sand she’d acquired in to it, and set it to a searing boil before throwing it at the other woman. It was a risk, as injured as she was, not to tend to the wound immediately but it would be worth it to see that other queen writing in agony as the burning sand wormed in to her armor.

It was as Zyy came to help her that the ground opened up, roots and vines reaching up from the soil to grab at them. Koneki scrambled, weak as her blood coursed down her right leg from the wound above, her feet tumbling over themselves. Zyy started running to protect her sister in the Flame, but a root reached up and wrapped around her left leg, stopping her short with a terrible, audible crack as her knee broke when she fell one way and the root tugged another. It bent horribly as the roots tugged at her, the broken leg disappearing beneath the soil as she screamed. Koneki, seized by apocalyptic rage, let loose an enormous blast of fire in an attempt to push back anyone approaching to take advantage of the situation while she hobbled to Zyy.

Soren, to this point, had been under the radar. If Azohra liked anyone it would be Soren, the opposite side of the coin in terms of their fanatical expression. The Barabel was understated, close to mute, without a sense of urgency in her body. It was she who locked eyes on Shikoba, narrowing to reptilian slits as she heard Zyy’s scream of agony wrought by the Vashyada. Centering herself, she thought to use this tilling of the earth to her advantage. Much easier to reach down in to the layers and pull magma up from where it moved through the ground when it was less packed - her clawed hands were vice grips in the air as she yanked on the molten beauty below. It bubbled up hot and slow and sensual, burning at the roots and vines threatening to choke the Heralds...and at any careless enemies. The earth yawned open all around them, pools of lava blooming and seeping towards the river in gouts of steam, heating the air until it grew wavy and shimmering under the brutal temperatures. In moments, Yashuvhu appeared more like hell than the verdant planet they’d all landed on.

Azohra had moved further down the shoreline, singling out the red-haired woman she recognized. As she drew closer she pulled Sunslaker from its sheath at her hip, the sword’s length bursting in to flame as she sneered at Elpsis. Her features had always been hard and sharp but when tapping her addiction she looked wild and horrifying, shoulder-length hair billowing back off her face in the heat of the world going to hell. “You knew what she was and you harbored her,” she accused, yelling over the horrible din. “You will make a great example to the galaxy.”
​

Elpsis Kerrigan​

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

Miren Rahulik

Celaena/Nuroch

As a child Celaena had been raised on stories of Ashira's love for her children - and her wroth for those who violated her law. It was said to be great and terrible to behold. Her judgement for her foes was a flaming inferno, just like the pit she had cast the traitorous Illyria into. She and the new girl had reached the shore - barely.

Her armour was steaming and if she had had a mirror, she would have noticed that flesh had sloughed off one of her pointed ears. Her feet were seared crimson. The pain was enough to make her double over. Her body was shaking. The sensation of ice brought them a all too brief reprieve. Eldorai did not have a high pain threshold. She forced tears back.

Dimly, she heard Miren say something about a battle meditator. She nodded grimly. "Got to break through before we can burn that arsehole. Squid, where the hell are you?"
Suddenly water splashed from the depths, when a very burnt and pissed off looking Nuroch emerged. His tendrils looked like they had been cooked to a point where even someone who liked their meat extra well-done would make a pass. A shard had scored a nasty cut on one of his tentacles. It was small comfort that all the heat automatically cauterised it.

"Frak you, knife-ear," he swore, looking around. "You lot got a plan? Other than not get turned into dust."
"New girl says there's a mentalist. Can you mind frak them?"
The Nautolan nodded grimly. "Can do. If I have time to track them."
Celaena's comm beeped. "Chracai..." that was the name of a fierce feline native to Kaeshana, "support Partuz. Pin down their lava lady. I'll join you." That came from Vagt.
"Got it. Sarge, there's a mentalist somewhere. Nuroch wants to find them."
"Go for it."

Celaena cut the connection and stared at the inferno forming in the air, and at the lava seeping towards them. She looked at Miren. "Alright, Nuroch does his thing, finds the arsehole meditating. We keep him from losing all his tentacles. Want to pay that lizard a visit?" Her cracked lips smiled grimly.

Gousts of steaming heat were seeping towards them. So hot. So unbearably hot. Even for a pyromancer like her. She got to her feet, dashing. "Hold your breath," she yelled at Miren, seeing toxic gases rising along with the lava. Her legs were scalded. She stumbled. The super-heated air made her cough. Heat spread across her body like wild fire. She could already feel the heat burning through her again. Drawing on her power, she manipulated the wind. It would carry the already super-heated air, hot sand and, crucially, the sulphuric acid and other poisonous gases towards Soren.

Sano

It was a scene straight out of the apocalypse. The tranquil forest world had been turned into a blazing, merciless inferno. Pools of lava seeped towards the still hot river. Blasts of flame rippled across the beach. There was nought but devastation. Tahoka's strike had been successful, but it gave her no respite. She was quick on her feet and tried to dodge, but then she cried out in agony when the searing boil of sand struck her. Her armour was light, and the sand worked its way into the gaps of her armpits.

It was now burning through her skin, peeling it off to leave raw flesh. Her heavy pistol fell out of her grasp, and she writhed in pain. Then Koneki's furious blast of flame struck her, hurling her across the beach like a ragdoll. She landed hard, being pushed into a rock. Her armour was scorched, and her head was full of pain. Blood dripped down from her forehead. Stunned, she slumped.

Reverence

Sano did not hear the Dahomian war cry shouted by her comrade. Emerging from the water, Reverence hastened to the beach - and to the emerging pools of lava seeping to the river. Her legs were scalded, and her armour was so scorched it had melted in places. She held a Reaper Shotgun, using her strength to balance the heavy weapon. The super heated air invaded her lungs, making her cough. Badly. Pushing the Force into her muscles to strengthen herself, she dashed through the hot water.

Each cough emitting from her throat sent pain shooting through her. She squeezed the trigger of her shotgun, firing flechette cartridges into the direction of Zyv and Koneki. Each cartridge contained a dozen shards and they had a wide spread, beig fired with terrible speed. Forced to gasp for breath, she was in the throes of raw, red pain, and fell to the ground. Her body writhed as the blazing heat struck her. She clutched her shotgun tightly, wincing when she realised that part of a finger had been burnt away. Physical enhancement helped her force up the heavy shotgun and she closed her lungs to the deadly, steam-filled air, firing once more. Then the lava came.

Vagt

Vagt had decided that Force-Users irritated him. Except those he worked with. They always had strange techniques he could not entirely anticipate. Such as a flaming shield that turned his explosive shells into white-hot shards and sent them flying back to him. This hurt him. Especially his fur. The downside of carrying a big grenade launcher was that you were not great at dodging.

A glancing blow struck him in the neck. Another pierced his hip. Fur had been burnt away. Lacking supernatural powers, he could not simply turn off his pain senses or draw strength from such sensations. All he could do was try to work through it. He was lucky that a telekinetic push from Elpsis knocked him out of the immediate trajectory of some of the shards. It would leave bruises though. With a shard lodged inside his hip, he could not run well, almost stumbling as he waded through the water. His armour was steaming. "No use with this one, I'll cover the trainees," he broadcast to Elpsis. The Bothan had enough sense to understand that pride had no place on the battlefield.

So he swung his heavy bolter around and fired an 40mm x 53mm explosive shell towards Koneki. She was injured, so with a bit of luck she would be taken out. Seeing the lava, he swore. He coughed painfully. "Everyone, get close to 'em. Take out lava lady, find the mentalist." The bolter was starting to get terribly hot. His fingers burnt, as he fired two more explosive shells. This time his bombardment was aimed at Soren. Then the lava rose from below where he was standing, and burning steam came from above. He was being flooded. The bolter fell.

Shikoba

From the distance, Shikoba could see the fire and lava rising. She could see it attacking her comrades, and despoiling nature. It filled her with sadness, and resolve. So she advanced further. She did not have the focus to try and shield herself. Her boots were smouldering and she could feel her feet burning. Part of the sole had been sloughed off.

A hot shard had lodged itself in her armpit, causing white-hot pain to spread through her body. Spirits, of this world, I beseech you, she chanted silently. Power surged through her body. She could not conduct a summoning yet. The blazing heat chocked her. It made her feel sluggish and off-balance. Sweat dripped down her face.

Sorrowful brown eyes fell upon the author of this devastation. Making somatic gestures with her hands, Shikoba reached into the earth that lay beneath the Barabel. But it was not the plants and roots she called upon. This time she summoned long, sharp spikes, willing them to rise up and ideally impale her foe. Or injure her and possibly force her to shift positions. Retrieving a dagger from her belt, she made a cut across the palm of her hand. Blood seeped from the incision into the water.

Elpsis

Elpsis' features were cold and hard when she beheld the apparent leader of the hunting party. Her red hair was sweaty and tousled, her face heavily scarred. Due to her blindness, she did not see the sneer on Azohra's face, though she sensed the power and sheer emanating from her sword. She reckoned it was Force-imbued in some way.

“You knew what she was and you harbored her. You will make a great example to the galaxy," her foe yelled at her. Her naked fury was all too palpable.
"Whatever," Elpsis spat. She had never been for chatter and boasts in battle. They just distracted. She was facing a bunch of totalitarian cultists who wanted to mess with one of her people. Thus the imperative was simple: burn them all. She felt her comrades struggling, suffering and trying to fight back. She felt hot shards strike her, eating through her flesh. She felt the super heated air assail her lungs, and she could feel the lava moving towards the still hot water.

Her cybernetic arm glowed red-hot. Her white orbs flared in both anger and pain. Such was the intensity of the heat that she felt like her eyes were about to pop out, like the wild fire building up inside her would explode and burn away her flesh. It felt like bones were being pulled apart. She could feel Zhaleh trying to mitigate things, but the Qadiri's concentration was split and her energy would be dwindling fast. She reached out to her. Bear, protect the squad. She could already feel the ice elf's protest. That's an order.

She let the fire wash over her. She drew strength from the apocalyptic inferno that had engulfed the once verdant land. Her armour was smouldering. The scars etched into her features glowed ever brightly - so much that they were physically painful. And the pools of lava bubbling beneath her flesh seemed to be expanding. Her heart thumped inside her chest. Lava seeped towards her and steam billowed into the sky. She soaked up all she could. The absorbed energy was spat outward. A tornado rippled from her towards Azohra. Super-heated boulders moved with it. Advancing towards her, Elpsis drew and ignited Inferno, producing an orange blade.

Zhaleh

All hell had broken loose around them. The heat was terrible, especially for someone born and moulded in an arctic land. It made Zhaleh wish for the icy glaciers, the snowy tundras and cool rivers of her homeland. Sweat poured down her face and back. To stand in the presence of such burning heat was draining for her. Even more so when she was trying to mitigate the harmful storm inside her comrades.

She slumped, breathing heavily as she greedily sucked in air. There was a painful throbbing inside her skull. She forced herself to rise. Her limbs felt sluggish. Her eyes darted to the pyromancers still in or near the water. Elpsis was facing off the fire abomination, seemingly alone. Ma'am? Elpsis' command was unequivocal. And she saw Sano was down for the count. The Togruta was writhing in agony.

Zhaleh ran towards her, as blasts of fire and burning steam hit the beach. The fireball hurtled towards her. The Qadiri hit the dirt. Part of the ball missed her. But not all of it. Fire seared her skin, and she felt the heat rising from the ground. She called upon the ice inside her. It could only mitigate, being melted as soon as it was summoned. And when it melted, it turned to steam.

Nonetheless, she got up and bolted towards the Togruta. "Sano!" No response came from her. She touched her cheek, trying to cool the Togruta with her shaking hand and tried to drag her away into cover. And she saw Vagt down and Reverence in pain from...lava. But that was not all. As the lava rose, small clouds of sulphuric acid and other toxic gases were escaping the earth.

She coughed, and tried to hold her breath. She could not fight someone summoning a volcano. In a few moments, the lava would be upon her. The Qadiri could only mitigate. So she whispered the ancient incantations the shamans had taught her, summoning all her power. Cold water poured down onto the lava. Strain was etched across Zhaleh's features as the initiate drained herself.