Skye was sitting at a large wooden table strewn with papers, head resting on his hand. After his admittedly reckless rescue of the Junco family, he had been invited by Mayor Owin to attend an emergency meeting between important figures of the town, although whatever interest he had quickly vanished when they began discussing plans to transfer the product of their ice sales to a building maintenance fund and the possibility of hiring an ice mage to delay Frostmill’s melting, among other topics. As Skye slowly dozed off, a tiny dust devil rose from the middle of the table, throwing papers into the air. Those present shouted in annoyance and surprise as he jolted awake, mumbling apologies as the miniscule tornado dissipated. The mayor sighed, rising from his seat to grab a small, fluttering map from midair.
“My apologies, traveler. Was thoughtless of me to drag ya here, we just need to sort out a few things. If ya still really do want to help,” he said, scribbling directions on a piece of paper before handing it to Skye. “Checking out th’ top of the iceberg would be a great aid. We’ve had suspicions that th’ source of our island’s melting lies there, but we weren’t able to get up that high until now, due to the storm.” He tilted his chair back, peering out of a window as the other meeting members resumed talking amongst themselves.
“Sky looks clear for th’ time being, seems like your best chance would be to go now.” Nodding his head in agreement, Skye apologised once more before stepping out the door, yawning widely. Walking through the village, he noticed people carrying their things out of homes near the overhang and wall, being welcomed in by those just a few houses away. He would have to try to stop whatever was happening as soon as he could, but at least the town had a strong sense of community. Skye took a short break in front of the mountain trail, watching little patches of snow tumble down a steep incline. Overall, trudging up the path was easier than he thought; old wooden posts marked the safest route, and the snow was just wet enough for him to always have fairly stable footing. Out of breath, he stumbled over one last rise as a snowy expanse filled his view. Imposing spires of ice lined the edges of the narrow plateau, in the middle of which rested a small steaming crater, vapour fading into the night sky. Shuffling closer through the snow, he peered nervously over the edge, only to see a red-haired woman scowling back at him, arms raised in front of her as if ready to fight.
“Oh,” Skye exclaimed in surprise. “I wasn’t aware there was anyone else-” He yelped, tumbling back as a plume of orange flame shot towards him. Even laying on the snow outside of the crater, he could feel the scorching heat rush past his face. He scrambled upright, backing away as the woman walked out of the crater, fists clenched and eyes dark with anger.
“St-stay back!” Skye stuttered, trembling from fear and cold. “I can fight!” Squeezing his eyes shut, he punched forwards, only to be swept off of his feet by a low gust of wind and land face-first in the snow. He raised his head, blinking tiny crystals out of his eyes as the woman glared down at him, seemingly unsure of what to do. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, she sighed deeply, sitting next to him.
“I suppose you’re not one of them, huh?” Skye sat up, brushing clumps of snow out of his hair before sneezing loudly, as a sudden breeze sprayed him with a shower of icy flakes.
“I don’t think so, whoever you’re talking about. Then again, my memory hasn’t been the greatest, as of late.” She giggled lightly, before her face contorted into a scowl as she slammed her fist into the snow, a thin plume of orange fire sprouting upwards from her hand.
“Damn it! I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore.” Skye looked from her to the crater, eyes widening in realisation.
“Hang on…you’ve been melting the iceberg?” She lowered her head, staring guiltily at the ground below her.
“Was. When I saw that buildings were getting crushed, I stopped pretty quickly. I guess I was just…angry. Ever since I was born I’ve been able to wield flare manipulation, which is apparently pretty rare, almost unheard of. As long as I can remember It’s been me and my father, in our little house by the harbour in Tiberia. That’s in Ravenna,” she said, looking at Skye quizzically. “I don’t really know how much you…anyways, one day while my father was out, I hurt my leg pretty badly. I don’t even remember how, but I felt scared. And angry. Angry at myself for falling, angry at our stupid, tiny house, and angry at…my father, for not being there. I accidently lashed out, busted half the widows in the house. Scorched our table, too. When my father returned, he was terrified, said we had to leave.” She stared off into the distance, eyes unfocused, as Skye noticed her breath becoming increasingly erratic.
“I couldn’t walk, so my father carried me to the harbour, and used almost all of our savings to pay a ship captain to take us far from there. He convinced the crew to hoist me up to the crow’s nest, said that no one would look up there. My father went to get some things from our house, said that he would only be gone for a few minutes. He was just coming back when a group of hooded freaks grabbed him. Some old guy in a white coat stuck a weird needle into his arm, and then they…” her voice caught in her throat, and she paused for a few seconds as Skye’s brow furrowed in recognition.
“They just killed him on the spot. I didn’t see how, there were too many surrounding him, but I saw them just throw his body into the water, like he was worthless. Like what they did didn’t even matter. The captain got spooked, decided to launch right away. I couldn’t even climb down from the crow’s nest, couldn’t do anything. That was…years ago.”
“I’m so sorry,” Skye said, awkwardly patting her on the shoulder.
“Thanks. Name’s Iris,” she said, looking up at the sky. “Everywhere I go, I always feel as if I’m being followed. They try to hide it, but I can tell when they’re tailing me. I don’t think I’ve ever stayed in one place more than a week or two, ever since that day.” Skye raised his head as well, eyes darting from star to star; he had never seen them so clearly, at least not in his present state.
“You seemed pretty quick to trust me,” he remarked. Iris shrugged nonchalantly, still staring upwards.
“I doubt those hooded weirdos would ever send someone as incompetent as you. No offence, by the way.”
“None taken.”
“Besides, I’m getting pretty tired of running. I need someone I can trust, y’know? By the way you were reacting, I assume you know about those ‘order’ jerks?”
“I…think so? It’s pretty complicated. I’m definitely against the order,” Skye said, as Iris grinned widely.
“Well, an enemy of theirs is a friend of mine! What do you say we kick those robed freaks where it hurts?” She exclaimed, holding out her hand as a flaming orange orb flared above her fingers. Skye laughed out, loud and long, as a miniscule storm of snow and wind whirled around him. Finally, gasping for breath on the ground next to Iris, he held out his hand, shaking hers.
“I’d love to!”
Agent Ferox’s eyes poked out of the surface of the water, taking in a small rowboat. Having ordered the rest of the crew to stay behind, she was alone in the inky black sea, watching veils of fog dance across the ocean, limiting visibility to a few dozen meters away; perfect for the hunt. The ball of light protruding from her forehead bobbed up and down as she treaded water, glowing dimly through the fog. With a single stroke, she shot towards the tiny boat, quieter than the waves lapping against the wooden hull. There was a single occupant, facing away from her, whistling a jaunty tune while casting a fishing rod into the water in front of him. Grabbing the side with her human hand, Ferox hoisted herself up in a second, staring down at the fisher. He turned his head, shouting as he noticed the imposing figure, petrified with fear.
“C’mon, one shot.” Ferox said, jaws splitting open to reveal a toothy grin. In a surge of courage the fisher grabbed an oar, swinging it towards her face, only for Ferox to catch it in her mouth, splintering it to pieces as she chomped down. Perhaps brave, but futile in the end. Lunging forwards with her clawed arm, she grabbed the fisher around the chest, lifting him up into the air with dark blue pincers.
“Speak only when I tell you to,” she whispered, looking him straight in the eye. “Nod if you understand.” He nodded vigorously, face dripping with sweat. Ferox brought him closer.
“Where are you from?”
“R-redwake.”
“Who are you to the people there?”
“I-I’m just a fisher, ma’am, please don’t-”
“Quiet!” She snapped. “Worthless as a hostage…you won’t be missed.”
“Please, I have a famil-” Ferox shook him roughly, tightening her grip, cutting him off as he cried in pain.
“Shut it. Have you seen a white haired man recently? Has wind powers, or whatever?”
“Yes, h-he passed by recently. I th-think he was headed to Frostmill.” She barked out a rough laugh, holding the fisher further away.
“You’ve been helpful, I’ll be sure to make this quick.” Before the man could object her claws snapped shut, crushing his ribs with a sickening crunch, killing him in an instant. Ferox threw his body into the water and pulled out a conch horn from her belt, taking a deep breath before blowing into it. A hoarse wail played out across the water, and a black-sailed ship emerged from the fog, stopping at the rowboat. Ferox leapt aboard, walking towards the bow as the crew prepared to continue onwards.
“To Frostmill!” Agent Ferox roared, crossing her arms at the very front of the ship. “I’m gonna have fun with this one!”