Chapter 2: The beginning of a rivalry
Fotiagos proceeded with his travels. He felt as if he was on a constant incline and his breathing became progressively more difficult the higher he got. It didn't matter to him as he would keep going until he reaches the boundaries of his Cryokinetic abilities. Such a limitation came sooner than he thought. The wolverine reached a flat area covered mostly with rocky terrain. The ice covering his body melted back into his blue fur and his means of transportation vanished. Given his speed and unawareness of his powers being breached, he found himself sailing through the air with a surprised yell. He landed with a thud on his front side and slid a fair distance before coming to a halt with pain enveloping his body from the rocks. A grunt of annoyance fled his muzzle once he had finally stopped. After some time spent gathering himself, he flopped over onto his back with a long exhale. Astonishment welcomed him as his eyes centered on the tip of a dark brown staff being pointed at the middle of his forehead. The one behind the weapon was above the wolverine.
"State your business here!" A stern voice demanded. Fotiagos lifted his head up slightly to see a pair of angered emerald orbs staring down at him.
"It's none of your concern." He retorted back coldly. His interrogator would see only a blur of red as the crimson handle of Ignis was firmly grasped with his right hand. Using the momentum from unsheathing it, he took a quick, one-handed swing for the knees of the baggy tan pants. The figure took a quick leap backwards, allowing Fotiagos to jump back on his feet. He whirled around to see who questioned him. A russet creature with jade streaks stood before him. Half green dreadlocks of various lengths hung across his head. Whiskers protruding from his tan skinned muzzle swayed gently in the light wind. Tan and dark brown facial markings were seen as he gave the mustelid a deep glare. What the most outlandish attribute of this stranger was the markings on his forehead, hands and feet; all of which much like the staff he firmly held, illuminated a green glow. There were 5 of them visible, but the wolverine assumed there were more hidden from sight.
"The city; it grows loud and the flashing lights disturb my peace. I have reason to believe you are responsible. Leave this place at once!" He exclaimed with an accusing tone. Fotiagos simply replied with a dismissive huff and sheathed his weapon. Without even uttering a word, he glanced at the city which appeared so small from this distance. Lights of many colors were seen and barely audible sirens resonated throughout the buildings. He was fortunate to have escaped the city and was hoping nobody would be trailing him considering his ramp leaves a vanishing path of ice behind. He turned his back to his former residence to venture further in the mountain. This would make an acceptable location to contemplate his next course of action. Confusion filled his eyes as right in front of him, a wall of rock formed seemingly from nowhere. He even placed a palm across it in disbelief, as if he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. He felt the smooth and cold rocky surface as he applied a light push.
"You are not allowed entry into my home." Came a voice, the same who demanded he leave. An awestruck Fotiagos hesitantly turned his head to see the russet being holding out an open palm towards the wolverine with the rest of his body upright. The staff he once held somehow hung diagonally across his back unsupported. Only his head marking the ones on his left hand were glowing.
"Don't get in my way!" Fotiagos snarled, his fangs exposed and red fur glowing briefly in anger. He faced his head forward and stepped to the side to walk past the wall. Yet another formed and blocked his way. His body began shaking to a small extent and his hand clenched into tight fists. The red fur continued to glow to the point that the temperature began to make a steady increase. "You obviously choose to ignore my warnings." He snapped, giving his foe a deep glare of fiery hatred. He reached both hands over his shoulders and unleashed his twin swords.
"I am Terrador, guardian of my mountainous abode. I keep these hills safe from harm and allow them to prosper with life. Impurities much like you are poison to my land. You chose to disregard my advice and if you wish to settle it with battle, be forewarned it will be unpleasant for you." He replied, his tone and facial expression was rigid like the earth below their feet. His staff and forehead marking donned the same green glow again. Fotiagos watched in amazement as the weapon began floating through the air. It completed half an orbit around its wielder before being firmly grasped. A few rapid and impressive swings were performed before he assumed a fighting stance, eyes locked on the red and blue intruder like a laser. The Thermomancer gripped his blades tightly and shuffled his feet around slowly, glaring back with equal intensity. He knew this staff wielder was no pushover with the obvious skill he possessed with that weapon. Not to mention this area consisted of rock and this individual had shown he can control it with remarkable speed and accuracy. Fotiagos had plenty of tools to deploy as well and he was determined to bring them out to their fullest. This would potentially be the most challenging skirmish of his in quite some time.
Meanwhile, several helicopters scanned every last portion of Station Square with their extraordinary spotlights. An aggravated bear was a passenger on one of these. His massive body leaning out viewing the city with high-powered, night vision binoculars. A voice heard from his belt caused him to place the goggles down.
"I can't find him, sir. He's not on any of the footage." A shy and timid voice spoke.
"What do you mean there's no sign of him!?" The Chief demanded into his Walkman. The one on the other line was an ivory otter by the name of Specs. He was in the central headquarters, his large glasses looking over the many monitors. Security cameras were placed throughout the city and this otter was looking over the footage taken by all cameras within a 30 minute time frame. This is how long their search had been going on. Half a cup of coffee rested near his massive keyboard. Black slacks and a white buttoned-up shirt with its long sleeves rolled up to his elbows was his choice of attire. The shirt was tucked in underneath the black leather belt. His muscles tightened up and his ears flattened to his head.
"I'm sorry, Chief. He must've gotten lucky and slipped out of one of our very few blind spot." He replied.
"Great work nevertheless, Specs. Keep your eyes peeled though, he could still be out there." Chief stated much more calm, placing the Walkman near the goggles. His mind instantly directed towards a certain individual who had helped out greatly once in the past. While this individual refused any forthcoming assistance considering his certain apprehension, the police needed his skillset right now with tracking the fugitive down.
"Ace, I need you to take me somewhere." He requested. The pilot was an eagle, his white feathered, helmeted head turned slightly towards the bear. He handed the avian a sheet of paper with an address written on it. Accepting it with one hand, he unraveled it with his fingers. Recognizing the location, a small grin stretched along his golden beak.
"Roger sir." He said, gripping the wheel with both his brown fingerless gloves. The copter made a turnabout and hastily made its way for the Chief's desired destination.