Legacy: The Ministry of Fire , Part 1 by Uruks | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil

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Chapter 19: A Hateful Reminder

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Chapter 19: A Hateful Reminder

I remember every detail the day the Dragons fell from the skies. We called them Dragons because there was no other word to describe them. Gigantic quadruped reptiles with wings on the shoulders, breathing fire of white and black. There were two of them, but the power displayed by these two creatures was unlike anything we had seen before. One had shimmering white scales and shining green eyes. The other had magnificent black scales and bright red eyes.

The Dragons were colossal in size, both as large as mountains. They crashed through the planet’s atmosphere, clawing and biting one another in a violent struggle before landing in a large valley a few miles from our colonies. The struggle of the two Great Dragons was the beginning of the end for humanity.

Eramar rubbed his head in defeat as he stood in front of the young protégé, Leon Lurranna. “Tell me again, slowly. What has Ryan done this time?”

            Leon's glasses and well-trimmed noble’s suit with golden buttons and black silk made for quite the figure. As difficult to read as ever with his polished and scholarly appearance. At the age of eighteen, Leon Lurranna seemed more like a regal lord than an Elemental student.

He looks more like his father every day. Hopefully, that’s where the similarities end.

They stood together on a white balcony overlooking the lake of lava inside the volcano. The psionic shielding kept the heat at bay, and Eramar’s own abilities as a Wielder would be sufficient to keep them safe should anything go awry. Eramar always felt most at ease being near the natural power of the volcano. Just gazing at the turbulent fires of the inferno below gave Eramar a sense of serenity when he felt troubled, almost like he could only find order by staring into a sea of chaos.

            Leon cleared his throat respectfully. “I’m afraid that our new addition has made for quite the reputation as a prankster in the Ministry. He just spray-painted every statue we have of the Fire Minister. Apparently, he thought she would look more debonair with a mustache. To make matters worse, he’s already acquired a little entourage of loyal followers with Thomas Madison as the leader.”

            As annoyed as Eramar felt, a faint smile crossed his lips. “That brat used to be a snotnosed teacher’s pet … until Ryan thought it would be funny to give him a lesson in humility by blowing up his chair. Not that I blame Ryan for doing it. The kid was a snobby little bastard, but now he worships the ground that Uruks stands on and has become a bit of an anarchist. I have a little something against authority myself, but if we’re not careful, Uruks will be running the entire Grunt Academy.”

            Well, at least I finally got him in the habit of consistently wearing shoes. That’s progress at least.

            Leon blinked in helplessness, no doubt spending many sleepless nights wondering what horrors Ryan Uruks might unleash. “That's not what has me worried though. Tork is almost back from his scouting mission with the Black Dragons.”

            Now Eramar knew what had young Lurranna so on edge. “Given Ryan’s history with them, I think it would be best if we kept their contact with each other to a minimum.”

            “Tork is a full-fledged member of Squad 99, just like Ryan and me. We can’t keep it secret forever that we have a Dragon as our sixth member. If Uruks has a problem with it, he can deal with me. Grafael went too easy on him, and I’d be more than happy to give him a lesson in humility myself.”

            As calculating as Leon acted most of the time, he did have an occasional bout of passion, which made Eramar wonder what else could be boiling under that cold exterior. “You don’t like him, do you?”

            Leon's heat cooled somewhat as his face became impassive. “I have no feelings, positive or negative for Ryan Uruks. He’s a member of Squad 99 and that is that.”

            Eramar refused to let it go that easily. “You are still resentful that the council decided to dump him on you without going through the proper exams.”

            “What I think or feel is irrelevant. You were the one who taught me that, Master Eramar.”

Eramar thought he could detect the slightest bit of bitterness in the young man’s voice, but given what the lad had been through, Eramar could hardly blame him. Eramar tried to speak gentler. Saria always told him that he was too blunt with young people. Though Eramar found that somewhat ironic considering her own gruff mannerisms.

             “I know that your situation is not ideal, but please try to play nicely with the kid. Saria may not be as religious as some Elementals, but even she knows enough not to question prophecy … especially ones made by the Guardians.”

            Leon's face betrayed nothing of his emotions, not surprising considering that Eramar himself taught Leon to resist all forms of interrogation. “It’s not just that I can’t stand him. I can’t stand a lot of people. It’s just … I can’t shake the feeling that there may be something dangerous about having him around. We still don’t know the full details of how his village was destroyed, and how he alone somehow miraculously survived. And now since that punk, Shaver, turned up dead in his cell … I’m just not sure the Grunt’s worth all this trouble.”

            Eramar found himself smiling again. “And yet, weren’t you helping him in his fight with Grafael? I saw you. I know you well enough to know when you're using telepathy.”

            Leon shrugged. “He just looked so pathetic, that’s all. To challenge Grafael takes a great amount of both stupidity and guts. I’m just kind of a sucker for the underdog, you know that. But it doesn't change how I feel about him being on the team.”

Eramar only replied with, “Mm-hmm.” Eramar got the sense that there was more to Leon’s actions, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it, and he somehow knew that Leon couldn’t either.

As the silence dragged on, Leon tried to steer the conversation in a new direction. “How’s his training going? Any potential?”

Eramar rubbed his mechanical-eye, a habit he developed when he felt weary. “Everyone’s got potential; knowing how much is just a matter of time. But for Ryan, I’m afraid it could be a matter of decades. He’s not like you and the others. Strategy just doesn’t come naturally to him. He’s got a good deal of power for a Flamer, but like I always say, all the power in the universe is worthless without the knowledge of how to use it.

“He has excelled faster than most Grunts, true, but still not fast enough to be combat worthy like Squad 99. He just doesn’t have a lot of natural talent, as you did. What progress he makes is done slowly by his will and stubbornness. Many teachers might have deemed him too virulent and unstable to be an Elemental, but I get the feeling that if we just give him a chance, he’ll come around … eventually.”

Eramar chuckled slightly, remembering one of Ryan’s more endearing moments. “One thing that I can tell you is that if he ever gets a full handle on that bomb-making ability of his, we will have one heck of an ace up our sleeves. Too bad the kid has a touch as delicate as a rhino. His explosions are either too weak to cause enough damage, or too big that he either ends up wasting all his psions in one shot, or he blows himself up.”

Eramar sighed and rubbed his glowing-orange eye again, recalling one of Ryan’s more frustrating qualities. “And we still haven’t been able to find the right weapon for him. We’ve tried everything from guns to swords to knives, but every Psionic Weapon that he touches blows up in his hands. I get the feeling that we just need to find the right balance for him, but knowing Ryan, it’ll probably be the unlikeliest thing that we would expect. Oh, and in case he keeps complaining about losing that package from Lioness, you can let him know that I confiscated it. After what happened at the Ogre’s place, I think he’ll need a little more time before he’s ready for that kind of toy.”

“In any case,” started Leon thoughtfully, his implacable intellect never missing a beat. “If he doesn’t show some progress soon, the council will have no choice but to pull him from Squad 99. We can’t have a liability on our team.”

Eramar harrumphed. “You’re one to talk, Lurranna. Only a few years at the Ministry and already you think you’re some big shot, you little whipper-snapper. You really should get over this superiority complex of yours.”

Leon smirked defiantly. “I can’t help it if I’m just better. Is that so bad?”

“Now you sound like Ryan.”

Eramar hoped a little joking might help Leon lighten up a little, but then that same serious look came into his black pupils. “Back to more important matters. None of the mercenaries we captured in that raid knew anything about the man who hired them, and the death of Shaver raises some problems. It seems we have a turncoat in our midst.”

Eramar nodded. “Probably a Mystic. Hundreds of years after the Dark Dragon Lord’s defeat, and their followers are still mucking up the Ministry. Though I doubt it’s more than one, otherwise the investigation unit would’ve sensed the Dark Water being used.”

“He must be related to those mercenaries that infiltrated the Preservers, otherwise, he wouldn’t have bothered to kill their hapless leader,” speculated Leon. “That punk must’ve known more than the interrogators got out of him. Now that our best lead to the Mystic is gone, what’s our next move?”

Eramar fiddled with his goatee before responding. “I believe this Mystic to be the one responsible for the disappearances of upcoming candidates. I also believe that at some point, he’ll try to make a grab for Ryan again, so we just need to stick close to the brat and wait for the Mystic to make his next move. I trust you know what I mean.”

Leon sniffed. “What do you take me for, a Grunt? I’ve already been tailing him for a while now. Nothing overtly suspicious so far, but if he tries anything, I’ll nail him to the wall.”

“Good,” said Eramar satisfactorily. “Be sure to find out who his employer is. Most Mystics sell their services to rival Ministries for profit nowadays. That’ll be all for now. Return to your mission.”

As Leon left the balcony, he stopped just at the door with his back to Eramar. “What about Tork? You know that with Ryan’s amateur skills, his powers could become very unstable … especially if confronted with something so emotionally traumatic.”

Eramar suddenly felt very old and very sad as memories of failures with his students came back to him. Eramar remembered in bitterness and sorrow the last words on his student’s lips. He remembered those demented yellow eyes, the bright red crimson of its scales and leathery wings. The horrid high-pitched laughter of the demon as it mocked his pain.

“Why, master? Why didn’t you save me?” said the voice that would always haunt him. 

I wanted to, Billy! I wanted to more than anything, Eramar had tried to say.

“Never forget your failure here today. Never forget that as you live, your beloved student curses you from his grave,” said the wretched voice of the demon, its final curse to the man that had killed it. As much as Eramar wanted to, he never forgot what happened, and he never forgave himself.

No, never again! I’m not losing another one! I’m not making the same mistake twice!

“You let me handle it, Leon. Just leave everything to me.”

 

“Ack! huff!” coughed Ryan as he handed Hamma Steel another failed weapon experiment. “I don’t think that fire grenades are the best weapon for me either, Ham.”

            Hamma placed a sympathetic hand on Ryan's shoulder. “Call me Hamma, please. And don’t worry. These things take time, young Elemental. We just have to find the right balance. There is an almost limitless supply of Psionic Weapon combinations for you to try. I have the feeling that the answer will reveal itself in time.”

            “Ham, my man … you are a boon in troubled times,” said Ryan, instantly feeling better as he patted his friend on his armored shoulder.

            “Hamma, please.”

            Hamma Steel was a Level Three Elemental with power over mist. Mist users had been nicknamed Creepers because of their abilities to control fog, a rare ability to have in the Ministry of Fire. Ryan often thought of how handy it might be to have such abilities, especially when he needed to make a quick getaway using a fog screen after messing up the bathrooms.

Hamma Steel was a tall man in his late twenties; he had combed white hair, and came from the outer territories just like Ryan. He wore the lightly adorned red armor with three notches at the right shoulder that indicated his rank as Third. Capes were reserved for Fourths and Wielders, so his armor, though dashing, didn’t appear quite as flashy as Eramar’s. Even though Hamma hadn’t officially been assigned to supervise Ryan like Eramar, the man took a liking to Ryan and helped him out from time to time. Hamma had made it his life’s mission to find Ryan a suitable Elemental weapon or die trying … which could very well be the case since most weapons Ryan held ended up exploding.

            “I guess we should try again tomorrow. Right now, I’ve gotta go meet with Eramar. Probably another lecture about something that he thinks I did wrong. Thanks again for helping me out. I’ll see you later,” said Ryan.

            Before Ryan could leave, Hamma took him by the arm almost a little forcefully. “Oh, yes, that reminds me. Did you hear that the last member of Squad 99 will be at the Ministry gates this afternoon?”

            Ryan immediately forgot all about his meeting with Eramar. “You don’t say. I’ve asked about him. Tork they said his name was, but everyone has been unusually quiet about it. Even Grafael, and I can usually weasel anything out of him. All in all, I’m getting really curious about who this Tork guy is. I wanna meet him.”

            Hamma waggled his finger. “No, no, no. You’re forgetting about Eramar.”

            Ryan shrugged. “Ahh, the old fart can blow it up his foghorn. He hardly ever spends time teaching me, at least not since that first lesson. He just gives me some crap to do and then leaves. When he does see me, it’s only to tell me what a disappointment I am to him. I don’t know what his problem is, but I don’t really want to deal with him right now. I’ll just say that I had a chore to do for Saria. What Eramar doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

            Hamma mimed zipping his mouth shut. “My lips are sealed.”

            “Thanks a ton, Ham,” called out Ryan as he headed to the fiery gates of the volcano.

            “It’s Hamma,” grumbled the Creeper.

            While Ryan made his way to the gates, his red training armor jostled and clanged uncomfortably. Ryan had unwillingly submitted to Eramar’s suggestion that he start wearing ministry-grade armor for high-level Grunts. It made training a lot less painful, especially when Eramar felt like throwing a basketball-sized orb of flame at his butt without warning. Unlike Hamma’s armor, Ryan’s suit didn’t have any notches. He would get his first notch when he became a First-Level Elemental.

Though he didn’t have to wear the helmet, Ryan still had to put up with the boots. That was the hardest part to get used to, but Ryan’s first lesson with Eramar had taught him the value of protecting his feet. Plus, all Fire Armor was resistant to heat, so win-win.

            As Ryan drew closer to the gates, he noted a transport coming towards the steel landing platform. A Fire Ministry scouting ship, a small, sleek vessel painted in gold and red with fiery symbols like the ones on the gates emblazoned on its surface. It looked a little like the head of a duck, but still seemed impressive to Ryan. The transport didn't come in for a landing, but instead hovered a good hundred feet above the landing platform. Then Ryan saw a human-sized figure jump out of the side of the craft and spread its wings in a display of aerial superiority.

            Ryan froze. Descending to the ground at an alarming pace was a creature that he had not seen in a very long time, a creature that still haunted his nightmares at night … a Dragon.

            Ryan felt it. He heard the screams. Smelled the smoke. Saw the blood darkening the formerly green fields like a macabre rainstorm. Sweat beaded Ryan’s brow, and his breathing became wispy. His heart pounded in his ears. He almost felt fear, but then he remembered something else. He remembered the frightened face of his best friend, Henry the half-Elf. He remembered everyone he loved who he would never see again. Ryan quickly stamped down the fear of his younger self. The new Ryan wasn’t a scared little boy anymore; he didn’t need to be afraid of Dragons. The new Ryan had power now. The new Ryan could fight back. Fear fizzled out like a dying ember, and rage took its place.

As soon as the Dragon landed, Ryan responded instinctively, chucking red fireballs at the cursed creature. At first, the Dragon seemed taken by surprise, clumsily dodging the first few attacks in a tittering flight. But after a few red flames grazed it, the beast quickly recovered its wits and soared through the air for a counterstrike.  

Ryan didn’t hesitate. Before it reached a safe distance, Ryan jumped as far as his Saurian-powered legs could take him, and he soared through the air grappling the monster in mid-flight.”

“Hold your fire, human. My allegiance is to the Ministry, same as you!” cried the demon in its high-pitched voice.

            “Liar!” screamed Ryan venomously, beyond all reason.

            Ryan tried to strangle the beast, but it wrapped its tail around him and threw him to the ground. When Ryan’s back smashed the metallic floor of the landing platform, he twisted his legs over his head and rolled to his feet in an instant. Though slightly dazed, he felt all the more determined as the flames in his hands grew bigger and hotter until they went up his arms and started to burn through his training shirt.

            I'll make them pay! I'll make all of them pay, starting with you, monster!

            The Dragon circled just out of Ryan’s range and pulled out a round, silver shield with spinning spikes like a buzz saw, and a strange sword shaped like a tonfa.

            Despite the pain in his head, Ryan was too engrossed in his hatred and his need for revenge to think the situation through. He charged up his internal psions for another attack, but as he did so, he suddenly felt drained like all the fire had died out inside his body. And then he passed out.

 

Ryan woke up in his room tied down with the same blue glowing ropes that the mercenaries had once used on him. All of Squad 99 was there, plus Eramar who wore a sullen expression. Grafael looked angry, but then he always looked angry. Éclair seemed concerned, while Leon and Rachel were unreadable. Then Ryan saw the Dragon cowering in the corner.

Still in the grips of fury, Ryan struggled against his bonds as he shouted, “What the hell is going on here?! Let me go so that I can tear that thing to pieces!”

            Leon's face hardened. “That ‘thing’ is a member of Squad 99, and unlike some people, he has earned his right to be here.”

            Ryan couldn’t believe his ears. “You’re telling me that our last member is a Black Dragon.”

            Then it spoke. “Actually, I am a regular Space Dragon … see, gold scales … but humans have made the mistake before. My name is Tork. I must say that for a human, you are quite tenacious. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that I was being assailed by none other than Grafael.”

It spoke in a fancy accent, much snobbier than Éclair’s, but in Ryan’s mind that didn’t make it any less of a threat.  

            “Do not compare me to this knave,” grumbled Grafael in his deep, rough voice. “After what he has done, he and I could not be more different. I thought you of all people, Ryan Uruks, were at least above the prejudices of your ancestors. I see now that I was mistaken, and you are worthy of neither admiration nor honor.”

“I don’t give a damn what any of you think! It’s still a Dragon, and as far as I’m concerned, it’s the enemy!” screamed Ryan, getting tired of people judging him all the time.

            The Dragon put a hand to his mouth and said, “Oh my! Such racism.”

            “Now, you listen to me you pompous, arrogant little brat,” said Leon, his usually stoic voice rising in anger. “You have no idea what Tork had to go through to get on this team. He’s had an even harder time than you and Grafael. If you want to stay on this group, which you don’t deserve to in the first place, then you best start showing a little respect before I-”

            Éclair held up a hand to cut him off, which was strange because she usually hung on Leon's every word. Éclair then placed herself in between Leon and Ryan, speaking in a genuinely compassionate voice.

“I know what he did was wrong, and maybe he should be punished for that, but I still think that he belongs with us.” Éclair then turned to address the Dragon. “Tork, I am truly sorry for what happened. But if you could find it within yourself to forgive my stupid friend here, he will not do it again … that I can personally guarantee.”

Despite the fact that she used the word 'friend', there was an edge to her voice that Ryan did not mistake. In some ways, Éclair’s quiet, smoldering anger was more terrifying than Grafael and Leon combined.

            Rachel snorted, as if she found the whole affair beneath her. “My little sister, the negotiator. She just wants everyone to get along,” said Rachel in a mocking voice. “Personally, I don’t care one way or the other, but that’s just me.”

            Ryan could tell by Éclair’s face that Rachel's statement angered her, but she ignored it as she held her gaze with Tork.

            The Dragon sighed and said, “Of course, anything for you, my dear. If you see merit in this young gentleman, then by all means I say let bygones be bygones.”

            The Dragon then walked around Éclair to stand directly in front of Ryan. If Ryan hadn’t been strapped to the bed, he would’ve pulverized the monster. The creature held out its hand, as if Ryan would even be willing to touch it. “I have heard the sordid details of your past. I can understand your reaction to me. I hope that we can become friends in the future.”

            “If you really know what happened to me,” said Ryan darkly, barely able to contain his rage as he narrowed his eyes malignantly. “Then you also know why you and I can never be friends.”

            Tork looked genuinely hurt, his eyes growing watery as he drew his hand back.

This time, Eramar stepped between them. “That’s enough, Ryan! I have enough trouble without you trying to kill a comrade. Half the council is breathing down my neck to expel you. Do you understand me? You will never be an Elemental if you don’t let this matter go.” For what it was worth, Eramar seemed genuinely worried.

Ryan decided that the best course of action would be to mitigate the situation for now and bide his time. “I promise that I won’t attack the Dragon again without cause. But don’t expect me to like him,” said Ryan to Eramar, refusing to address the creature any further.

That will satisfy them for now, thought Ryan, deciding to play along with the others and wait until he had concrete proof against Tork. But when I find out what you’re really planning, Dragon … you’ll wish you were never born!

 

Éclair walked in silence with Ryan.

            She knew how he felt. He felt lonely, bitter, angry, and she knew of no way to make those feelings go away. Tork didn't deserve Ryan’s anger, but for the moment, all the negative emotions that had been building up inside of him over the years had focused on the Dragon as their target. Éclair knew from experience that it would take time for Ryan to resolve his pain, but resolve it he must; otherwise, his days at the Ministry were numbered. For some reason, Éclair found such an outcome unacceptable. Even though he was a bit of a brat, Éclair didn't want Ryan to leave. She decided to get Ryan to focus on something else besides Tork.

“You know, we’re lucky you weren’t expelled. At the first opportunity, you need to go to the council and apologize.”

Ryan said nothing.

As annoying as he can be sometimes, I miss the old, cheerful Ryan. The one who always made up stupid jokes and does just about everything he can think of to make a fool of himself.

Not being one to give up, Éclair pressed on. “Are you listening to me, Ryan? I’m telling you that your standing as an Elemental is at risk. We should go to the council now and-”

Ryan suddenly turned on Éclair, his face smoldering inches from hers. “What do you know about it?! Huh?! What do any of you know about what it feels like to lose everything and everyone you ever loved?! And then to be on your own on a strange world for five years where everybody treats you like you’ve got the plague!

“Five years of scraping for food and starving to death in the cold … living out of a cardboard box and running from gangs who want your blood just because you have scales and they don’t! All because of a band of bloodthirsty lizards who thought it would be funny to visit a village and slaughter innocent farmers who never did them any harm to begin with! And now you expect me to look into the eyes of one of those monsters and act like nothing happened?!”

Éclair was too stunned to speak. Ryan had never gotten angry with her before.

As if coming to his senses, Ryan looked down and said, “I-I’m sorry, Éclair. I don’t know what came over me. I …” Ryan then turned in shame and walked away.

For someone who acted tough all the time, it seemed the boy did have a bit of a sensitive side. Éclair wanted to call back to him and tell him that she did know what all that felt like, but then thought better of it. Knowing her past wouldn’t help Ryan, it would only serve to make him feel worse.

Besides, in many ways he's right. I don’t know what it's like to endure all the prejudice and hatred that he went through … to have to deal with people judging him his whole life. Everyone has always treated me like royalty. My ordeal was tragic, but at least I had Leon and Grafael. And my godfather, of course. Ryan was on his own for years. In time, Ryan will realize his mistake. He will know that he is judging Tork the same way that all those people judged him. We just need to give him a little time, that’s all.

Éclair watched Ryan in sadness and gave a silent prayer to the Lord Caretaker to watch after him.

 

As Ryan came to the arena, he found Eramar there waiting for him with a scowl.

Before Eramar could say anything, Ryan decided to beat him to the punch. “Look, I know what you’re going to say. That I'm being immature … that I'm being stupid … and that I'm going to get myself expelled. I promised that I wouldn't attack Tork and I meant it; now can we please just move on?”

            Eramar’s gaze softened a little, but that didn’t mean he'd been entirely convinced. “After what you’ve been through, I had my suspicions that you might react the way you did; especially with you being of the blood of the Saurians and having fire as your element to boot. I was going to tell you ahead of time … maybe cool you down before you exploded. But I waited too late. I’m sorry.”

            It surprised Ryan to hear Eramar apologizing to him, especially when he had ample opportunity to tell him how inadequate he was. Ryan decided not to dwell on it and changed the subject. “Why did I pass out the way I did?”

            Eramar breathed out in relief at being released from having to speak of emotions. “That is what brings us to our next lesson for the day. So far, you've only been able to draw on a minimal amount of your psions to produce flames at level one destructive power. But when you saw Tork, your emotions caused you to exceed level one and go to level two.

“This is dangerous, especially for someone your age whose psions have not fully matured yet. When your flames went all the way up your arms, you used up more psions than what your body was used to. You burned yourself out. You could have died if you used any more psions than you did.”

            Eramar then reached into his robes and pulled out a small gemstone that glowed with a pink light. Ryan thought he could see shapes moving inside it, which reminded him of the red eyes of the fire lion that he met at the orientation ceremony.

            “This is called a Sun Gem. It contains pure psionic energy, enough to power a small spacecraft. Gems like this one are extremely rare and highly coveted by all the Ministries. In fact, a few skirmishes have erupted between the Ministries for possession of these stones. When an Elemental has depleted all his psions, like you just did, he can syphon off the psions stored inside a Sun Gem and use it to restore his own energy to keep fighting in prolonged combat.

“Every Elemental weapon is embedded with a small portion of Sun Gems to make storing and detonating psionic energy easier. As you get older and your psions have more time to mature with your flames, the amount of psions your body can use will increase. But that doesn't change the fact that you may need to replenish your reserves, especially when you're on your own and outnumbered. Even I need to use the power of a Sun Gem every now and then to gain back energy so that I can keep fighting.”

“Huh. That’s kinda cool I guess. Sun Gems are kinda like ammo for Elementals. But what do I do if I’m out of energy and there aren’t any Sun Gems around?”

Strangely, Eramar put his hand on Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan immediately felt something pulse down his arm, and he felt a sudden rush of energy, almost as if had just downed an energy drink.

Startled, Ryan stumbled back from Eramar. “What did you just do?”

“I showed you how to restore your energy without Sun Gems. If you are in the midst of battle and don’t have time to recover your stamina, your allies can share their psions with you, though usually only through physical touch. However, I wouldn’t recommend you depending on this with your level of experience. You do not have the skill to share your own psions with others, or to properly incorporate any psions that are given to you by this means. Feel your psionic flow for yourself. Those psions I gave to you have all but vanished now, haven’t they? In fact, I’d wager you feel more tired than you did before.”

Ryan almost denied Eramar’s claim, but then felt a wave of fatigue hit him that nearly drove the wind out of him. Feeling very tired and slightly nauseated now, Ryan just nodded weakly.

“As I said, you need more experience to absorb psions this way. That’s why Elementals start out with Sun Gems. You get used to using Sun Gems, you’ll soon be able to share or siphon the psions of others.” Eramar then raised a finger warningly. “However, never try to forcibly take psions from someone else. Sharing psions between Psionic Users is usually only possible when the recipient is given the psions willingly. You should never attempt to steal psions, not even from an enemy. Only very few have the power to accomplish such a feat, and even they risk their lives in the process. With your level of experience, such a thing is far too dangerous. So you must promise me that you won’t try it until I deem you skilled enough to instruct you in such lessons.”

Ryan, who was feeling slightly better now, said in a solemn voice, “I-I promise I won’t try anything like that until you think I’m ready.”

Not that I would know how to do something like that in the first place. Stealing psions. Almost sounds like an energy Vampire.

            “So I guess the point of this lesson is to teach me how to draw energy from a Sun Gem?” asked Ryan, becoming interested at the prospects of such a concept. 

            “No,” answered Eramar.

            Ryan’s mouth hung open for a moment. “Then what the heck was the point of that whole lecture?”

            Eramar's mechanical-eye glowed mischievously. “To impress upon you just how important it is that you do not use up your psions, and to give you a goal to strive towards.”

Ryan crossed his arms, waiting impatiently for an explanation.

“You see,” continued Eramar, holding up the Sun Gem to catch the light. “If I gave this to you now and you used it, you would end up in the hospital - or worse. Psionic control is a very delicate process, one which you are hardly adequate at.”

            There he goes again, the whole ‘hardly adequate’ spill.

             “Without proper training and experience, if you tried to syphon off psions from this Sun Gem, you’d end up taking too little, which would dissipate inside your body and be useless, or too much, which would fill your body to the brim with psionic energy resulting in an unstable reaction.”

            Ryan held out his hands in confusion. “So … is that bad?”

            Eramar gave his pupil a quick whack on the head. He did that whenever Ryan asked him a question that he thought was stupid, which turned out to be most of Ryan’s questions. “Of course it’s bad, you little schmuck! Otherwise I wouldn’t go to the trouble of telling you all of this. So just pipe down and pay attention, ingrate.”

            Ryan scowled but did as he was told.

            “Now listen. There is already psionic energy coursing through your body. Now tell me, what do you think would happen if you absorbed more psions than your body could hold?”

            Ryan only said, “Uh?”

            “Exactly,” said Eramar suddenly, now excited as he snapped his fingers and pointed at Ryan’s face. “The psions from the Sun Gem would seek out and destroy the psions in your own body so they could replace them, and you would explode because of the conflicting energies within you vying for dominance.”

            Ryan was scared stiff. “Really? E-explode?!”

            “Well, maybe not explode, but most certainly die from the tension created by the overload of psions. I hear tell that it feels a lot like drowning when it’s not the exploding kind, but either way you’re dead … so yeah.”

            He said it so matter-of-factly that Ryan found it a little disturbing. “So why the heck would I ever want to use those Sun Gems in the first place if I’m going to explode?”

            “Because with a little luck, you won’t be as totally deficient at psionic control as you are now.”

Eramar then tossed Ryan a piece of bark. Ryan fumbled with it a bit before he got a firm grasp. The wood felt smoother than ordinary bark, and its brown edges were shiny, almost like glass. Something about the wood felt familiar to Ryan, like he’d held some before.

“That is a piece of bark of High Oak from the Elven homeworld, Shakarass. You may have lived with the Elves, but I don’t think that you’ve seen a tree quite like this one. It's one of their most closely guarded secrets and they only share it with their most trusted allies. I once did a favor for the Queen, and in return, she supplies the Ministry with wood carvings made from High Oak.”

            Ryan had a flashback of the time that his mother gave him a dragon carving made of High Oak. It happened right before…

“What’s wrong, kid?” asked Eramar, bringing Ryan out of his trance.

Ryan shook his head and said, “Nothing.”

Eramar scrunched his good eye suspiciously as if uncertain of Ryan's answer, but he didn't voice his concern as he continued his explanation. “High Oak has properties similar to Sun Gems because it was grown in sediments rich in Sun Gem soil. Tiny pieces of Sun Gems the size of sandstones mixed in with the soil to produce these rare plants. As such, it is possible for you to store your psions within a piece of bark from a High Oak tree, but only for a short time. If your control is unsteady, it'll catch fire.”

Eramar then held up a piece of bark in his own hand. “You cannot see, but I’ve just stored a significant amount of psions into this piece of High Oak. If I break concentration for the slightest instant, this is the result.”

Eramar then threw the bark into the air and it burst into flames, falling into a pile of ashes at his feet. Ryan took a step back in surprise as Eramar pointed at the bark in his own hands.

“Your task is to try and store your psions inside the bark and keep the flow steady for at least a minute without the wood bursting into flames. This is to get you used to storing and withdrawing psions until you're ready to do it with an Elemental weapon, and later, a Sun Gem.

“It's a lot like the time you put some of your psions into the pillar and turned it into a bomb. Only this time, your goal is to keep the bark from exploding. I have plenty of bark, so don’t worry about how many you blow up. Knowing you, it’ll probably be more than a hundred before you get it right. Tell me when you’re done and I’ll start your next lesson. Oh, and don’t forget about your schoolwork either. Professor Grain has told me that your attention skills leave much to be desired.” And with that, Eramar turned to leave.

Ryan reached out towards him. “So that’s it? No more instruction. Just leave me to do it on my own and then only see me when I’m done. What kind of teacher are you?”

Eramar stopped and looked back at Ryan with a scowl. “Not a very patient one, I can tell you that much. So quit your whimpering and get to work. You know as well as I that there are some things in life that you must do on your own strength. If you truly want to be an Elemental someday, then you had better get that through your head. Otherwise, quit wasting my time.” Then Eramar teleported away, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

His words stung, but that only made Ryan all the more determined to prove himself to Eramar. And it’s not going to take a hundred tries, jerk-face!

 

An hour later, Ryan tried once more to store his psions into the small piece of wood like Eramar had told him. It seemed like it might really work this time. Sweating now, Ryan put all his concentration into keeping the energies inside the wood from becoming too turbulent. Ryan held the piece of wood in both hands as he counted down the seconds.

Thirty seconds! Halfway there!

But just as Ryan hit forty, the wood started smoking, and then burst into flames like the others before it did. Ryan screamed furiously, feeling his resolve weakening. With a heavy heart, Ryan scratched off attempt number one hundred and one, livid beyond words at the accuracy of Eramar's prediction.

As Ryan started on his next piece of bark, Thomas Madison came out and said, “Master Uruks!”

Ryan was so startled that he tripped for a moment and fell in the dirt. Thomas looked down at Ryan quizzically. “Master Uruks, did you fall down?”

            Ryan coughed some dirt out. “No, of course not, my simple-minded student. I was just examining the contents of this dirt to make sure it’s safe for future battles.”

            Thomas gave him one of those smart-aleck looks of his. “Examining the dirt? Really?”

            Normally, Ryan might’ve found him annoying, but since blowing up the kid’s chair, Thomas wasn’t so bad anymore. And since the kid had declared Ryan to be his unconditional master in all things, he’d become a lot of fun.

Putting on his most indignant face, Ryan stood up to his full height, which wasn’t much taller than Thomas, and spoke in his most commanding voice. “You dare to contradict the words of your master. You know about superpowers and stuff. This dirt could be riddled with traps to ensnare unsuspecting Grunts like yourself.”

Ryan had to take a few seconds to think of something creative. “There could be Wereworms, forbidden germs, and heaven forbid, poison knife grass growing out between the cracks. Didn’t you hear about the possible war with the Ministry of Water? There’s no telling what monstrosities are hidden in the dirt at our very feet.”

            The eight-year-old Grunt paled a little.

He’s so gullible!

Thomas gave his customary salute and said, “Yes, Master Uruks, sir! I will assist you in examining the dirt, sir!”

            Thomas then got down on all fours and started licking the dirt with his tongue. Ryan almost laughed at loud, but he had to keep up the pretense as long as possible. As Thomas came to his feet to report on the dirt, the young Grunt regarded Ryan with a puzzled expression.

            “So Master Uruks, what were you doing before you were examining the dirt for traps?”

            Ryan sighed and held out the High Oak bark. Ryan would often vent his frustrations on Thomas since the kid was such a good listener. “See this! Eramar told me to store psions into it, but I don’t see how helpful that could be. So I got a super charged piece of wood. Whoop-di-do-dah! Personally, I’m a little tired of doing what the guy says, especially after what happened this morning.”

            “You mean that fight you got into with the Dragon? What does that have to do with Eramar?” asked Thomas innocently.

            “Don’t worry about it, kid,” said Ryan with a dismissive hand. “Let’s play hooky for a while. Just you and me.”

            Thomas scratched his head, thinking on the offer. “I don’t know. Professor Grain will be pretty mad if I don’t turn in my history paper on the Dark Dragon Lords.”

“I’ll buy you a snow cone,” tempted Ryan.

“Okay,” said Thomas a little too quickly. 

 

About half-an-hour later, Ryan and Thomas walked down the streets of Pandar Marketplace just outside the Ministry of Fire munching on a couple of green snow cones made by a four-armed centipede man. They trotted by the carnival with all the rides and laughing children when Ryan felt a tug on his hand. He looked down to see that the bark of High Oak that he'd been holding had disappeared. Ryan caught sight of a familiar white figure dashing off with the bark in her mouth. Ryan ran after the capricious canine.

             “Come on, squirt,” shouted Ryan.

            Still having a snow cone in his mouth, Thomas said something like, “Gragrr mmmbrma,” as he trailed from behind.

            It took all of Ryan's considerable speed to keep up with the mutt. The dog dashed under carts and jumped over tables. Ryan tried to do the same, but with much less success. There were quite a few angry people that Ryan had to apologize to before returning to the chase. Thomas followed panting in a way that made Ryan wonder if the kid would be alright.

At last the dog stopped at a bench, and the man sitting at the bench was none other than the mysterious old man with the white hood. Zand took the bark from Green Eyes’ mouth and petted the white wolf-dog affectionately.

Ryan stopped in front of the old man, panting for a while until he finally caught his breath and said, “Hey, old guy! I mean, Zand, right? What are you doing here and why did your dog steal my wood?”

The dog made a strange bark and it sounded suspiciously close to a laugh. Zand regarded Ryan with those knowing, green eyes that seemed to sparkle like a thousand stars. His face was old and slightly wrinkled, with a couple of small liver spots on the top of his head, but other than that, Zand appeared vibrant and cheerful.

He had long, pure white hair tied in a ponytail, and a short, trimmed beard, but no mustache. He wasn’t dark-skinned, but he looked well-tanned, like a sailor after being out on a long voyage. His nose was slightly crooked, like it may have been broken. As he smiled, he showed off white and straight teeth, and he still had all of them, leaving Ryan to wonder how a seemingly homeless man afforded good dental hygiene. As Ryan stepped closer, he realized that the old guy smelled a lot like cinnamon.

Zand smiled cheerfully at Ryan and said, “Which question should I answer first?”

“Huh?”

Zand laughed as if Ryan had said something hilarious. “Should I tell you if my name is or is not Zand? Should I tell you why I’m here? Or should I tell you why Green Eyes took you’re … mmm … piece of timber?” The senior citizen’s voice was so smooth with a slight British accent like a traditional university professor.

“All of the above … I guess,” said Ryan hesitantly.

“GRRMMMHHMMMM,” said Thomas incoherently, still munching on his snow cone.

“Ah!” exclaimed Zand as he raised a finger. “Now we’re getting somewhere. To answer your questions; yes, my name to you is Zand. I am here to enjoy myself on a nice, peaceful afternoon. Green Eyes probably took your bark for two reasons. One, she is very interested in unusual things; two, she probably recognized you from the other day and hoped you might amuse her, which thankfully you did. I do apologize for any inconvenience she might have caused you, gentlemen.”

“Ahh, don’t worry about it,” dismissed Ryan, unable to muster any venom for the old guy.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” said Thomas, trying to imitate Ryan’s voice.

Zand looked from Thomas to Ryan, then back to Thomas, and said, “Thomas, why don’t you play with Green Eyes here for a little bit while Ryan and I talk about boring grown-up stuff.”

Thomas regarded the old man suspiciously. “Do I know you from somewhere, old guy?”

Zand laughed merrily in his Santa-like laugh and ruffled Thomas’ hair like he was his grandson. “I should think so. I knew your father. I remember seeing you when you were this big.” Zand made a size reference with his hands a foot from the ground. “You were small for your age, but I’ve always known that concealed within you was a heart as big and pure as the gentle giants that live in the Kronoctic Expanse.”

Thomas smiled and giggled. Zand seemed to have a way of making people happy. Zand then gestured for the boy to pet Green Eyes. As Thomas touched Green Eyes nervously, the dog leapt up and licked Thomas full on the mouth. Thomas laughed, and then Green Eyes grabbed hold of his sleeve in her mouth and pulled him towards the park. Thomas continued giggling in delight as the dog pulled him away by the sleeve.

Well-trained dog, thought Ryan, turning back to the old man. “Do you really know his dad?”

Zand nodded and said, “I know many Elementals from the Ministry of Fire. James Madison was a bit of a prat, but he turned out alright. And I have a feeling that so will young Thomas if you continue to be a good role model for him.”

Ryan suddenly felt ashamed for playing hooky and bringing Thomas along. As if sensing his distress, Zand put a reassuring hand on Ryan's shoulder.

“What’s troubling you, son?”

Ryan didn't understand the question. “What makes you say that?”

Zand wrapped his arm over Ryan’s shoulders and walked him down the street. “Green Eyes would not bring you here unless there was a problem. Animals tend to have keen senses, you know.”

Ryan wondered if a dog would be able to sense something like that. “It’s just that … a lot of stuff has been going on, and I’m not sure I want to be an Elemental anymore,” said Ryan with his head facing the ground.

Zand stepped in front of Ryan, forcing him to look up. “Ryan, if you don’t want to be an Elemental, it is nothing to be ashamed of. Elemency is not for everyone. All people contribute something to the cosmos no matter what their vocation might be. Every being in this universe has a destiny, and those who are not a part of the Ministry are no less valuable. But you must tell me truthfully, Ryan … do you really wish to leave the Ministry? Is that what you truly want in your heart of hearts?”

It had been a long time since anyone had asked Ryan what he wanted to do. “No! Of course I don’t really want to leave the Ministry, but it might be unavoidable now,” blurted out Ryan, almost crying.

Zand’s bright, green eyes became all the more intent on Ryan. “What do you mean? What has happened?”

Ryan kept his tears and emotions back as best he could, but it became increasingly difficult under Zand’s scrutiny. “Let’s just say that I did something bad and everyone is disappointed in me because of it. But that’s not the only reason. I stink at Elemency. I have no natural talent for controlling psion stuff and Eramar reminds me of it every day! On top of that, there is this guy that everyone expects me to get along with, but that's impossible for me.”

“Why is this impossible?”

Ryan found himself screaming everything out, as if his words came out of their own accord. “BECAUSE OF MY FAMILY! MY PARENTS WERE KILLED BY DRAGONS AND THEY ALL EXPECT ME TO SWEEP THAT UNDER THE RUG AND PRETEND IT DIDN’T HAPPEN! EVERY TIME I LOOK AT HIM, I REMEMBER THE SCREAMS! I SEE THE TERRIFIED FACES OF ALL THE PEOPLE IN MY VILLAGE AS THEY WERE BUTCHERED BY THOSE MONSTERS! HOW CAN I EVER FORGIVE HIM?!”

Ryan realized that he was shouting in public, but no one seemed to notice his outburst as they went about their business. The tears came of their own volition now, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered now that his life was ending all over again.

Ryan expected Zand to rebuke him, call him a fool for blaming Tork for something that wasn't his fault like all the others had. But instead, Zand hugged Ryan tenderly and held him to his chest.

Ryan just stood there for a moment, shocked that Zand would do such a thing. His rational mind told him that he should gently push away, but his emotions told him otherwise. The way Zand held him reminded Ryan of the way his father used to hold him when Ryan was hurt or scared or sad because the other children wouldn’t play with him. Ryan cried softly against Zand’s chest, which felt very muscular and lean for such an old man.

Then, patting him softly on the head, Zand pulled away from Ryan and spoke gently. “I think that in your heart, you know what is right.” As Ryan tried to lower his head, Zand brought his chin back up. “But I also understand how you feel. You may not think that I could, but you’ll just have to trust that my words are the truth. I know it is hard, but please, heed these words. The past is the past. Do you really think that your friends and loved ones would want you to remain in this miserable state of your own making? That makes as much sense as me doing yoga.”

Despite everything, Ryan found himself smiling just picturing the old guy trying to stretch in the most ridiculous positions. Zand’s ageless face seemed so old and yet so full of passion at the same time. His voice sounded so kind that Ryan found himself being drawn into it.

“But what should I do?”

Zand ruffled Ryan's hair and spoke softly. “Listen to your heart, boy. I’m sure that deep down you know what you need to do. Now, close your eyes and concentrate. Concentrate hard on your past experiences. Forget what is now … forget the present. Draw your answers from the past so that you may better affect the future. That is why we have a past after all. That's why we are allowed to remember.”

Ryan did as he was told. At first nothing happened. But then as he waited, he saw images floating in the darkness.

“Now tell me, Ryan … what do you see?” Zand’s voice suddenly seemed distant as if he spoke from far away.

As Ryan concentrated, he saw the images coming into focus. He saw Shaver Creed and the Preservers beating him up and other aliens with hatred in their hearts. He saw Hannah Lioness jumping from a window to come to his rescue after he ran away. He saw Éclair standing in between him and the mercenary with the scar on his chin. And then he heard Mr. Kambrick say, “I was scared. Fear makes people lose their reason. Sometimes that fear turns into hate.”

The answer soon became clear. It had always been clear, but a shadow on his heart held him back. Ryan realized that the shadow was called hatred, and it had been born from fear, pain and loss. Even now as Ryan saw it, he realized that the shadow had not left him completely. There was still a lot of bitterness in his heart towards Tork, but he'd have to deal with it in time if he wanted to move on with his life.

In a voice slightly more confident now, Ryan said, “I was judged solely on how I looked, and because of that, people hated and feared me. If I judged Tork in the same way instead of by his actions, then I am no better than those bullies. I’m not saying that the pain and bitterness is completely gone now, but maybe with willpower and time, I can overcome my prejudice. Is that it?”

But as Ryan opened his eyes, he was back in his bed at the Ministry of Fire.

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