CHAPTER NINE
The Katarin battle line smashed into the advancing Dominion forces, but soon battle lines were forgotten and the entire fight began to devolve into a tangled, confused melee. Blasts of fire flew hither and thither, while the Katarin warriors lashed out with swords, axes, and shields. Jack saw Sasha in the center of the melee, fighting with a ferocity he had not expected from a girl her age. She blocked a tongue of fire with her shield, and then stabbed out with her sword in return. Another assailant came running at her, but with almost contemptuous ease she wedged the edge of her shield underneath his center of gravity and flipped him harshly on his back before stabbing down to finish him off. Seeing another of her warriors in trouble, she brought back her shield arm, and with the sun glinting off its bronzed face, she cast it. It spun like a blade in the air, and struck an enemy soldier in the back of the head. He crumpled as if pole-axed, and Sasha ripped her axe off her belt before throwing herself further into the fight, whirling like a dervish of death.
An attacker sneaking up on Sasha suddenly fell, transfixed by the arrow in his back, and Jack, satisfied, added another kill to his running tally. The fight was getting awfully close to him, however, and soon he would have to forego the arrows in favor of his trusty dirk. He fired off another shot and immediately moved to reload, not even stopping to see if he had hit his mark or not. He was usually careful in his aim, but the forces were getting mixed and there was a very real risk of hitting one of the Katarin Island warriors. However, he felt that if he hurried, he could get off one last shot, and truly make it count. Taking careful aim, he pulled back the string, and set a bead on Prince Diego. Just seeing the prince's scarred visage made feelings of anger bubble up within Jack. He let the arrow fly, and watched as it soared towards its intended target.
Diego saw the arrow flashing, and moved just in time. He threw himself to the ground, and the arrow embedded itself in a nearby burning tree. Slowly, he clambered back to his feet, dusting himself off. He looked about the swirling melee. It was too difficult to tell who was winning at this point. But he didn't particularly care about winning. He felt for his men, but compared to his main priority, they took a very distant backseat. No, he was scanning the fight for one individual…and there he was. Diego watched as the Scion used air to redirect a bolt of flame that had been inches from his face, and then skillfully knocked over several of his opponents with a sudden gust. Diego was fairly sure he had the measure of his foe's fighting style now. He fought to disorient, to disarm, and to incapacitate, but he did not believe that this Scion would kill. Diego was not supposed to kill either; doing so would merely start the cycle anew with a member of the Water Tribe. That leveled out the playing field; they were both fighting for the same thing.
"Scion!" he called. Brishen raised his head and saw Diego coming towards him. A flicker of recognition passed between them, and Brishen started running to meet his adversary. The two clashed in the middle of the colossal fight, the edge of Diego's silver rapier carving a tiny notch in Brishen's sturdy staff. Brishen breathed in deeply, and then blew hard. A huge gust, improbably large, issued from his mouth, pushing Brishen back and Diego off-balance. He quickly regained his composure, and then made several slashes in the air, sending a spinning spiral of fire corkscrewing its way towards the Scion. The aeromancer brought his staff to bear, sending out an arc of wind that caused the flames to dissipate. Diego began to close the distance between them, intent on keeping him firmly within his grasp now that he had finally been cornered. He lashed out with the tip of his blade, and managed to draw blood from a graze on Brishen's shoulder. Brishen grimaced and blasted Diego with another gust of air, but this time the prince was ready for it. He thrust his sword into the ground, using it to anchor himself in place while his scarlet cloak whipped wildly behind him. He stood up once it had subsided, and yanked his blade up again.
"What's the matter, Scion?" he taunted softly. "Where are your other three elements?" He breathed in, pointed two fingers at his foe, and fired a small but deadly-accurate burst of fire from it…only for it to go awry. Something had shoved his wrist to the side, causing him to aim wide. He cursed and turned to see what had done it. Standing there in answer was the girl from the Water Tribe village. She was poised, her dark hair let down to her back, a look of concentration on her face. A long tendril of water coiled itself around her in midair, suspended by her hydromancy. Before Diego could say much more, she lashed at him with the water again, but in mid-flight the cascade turned into a small shower of icicles. Thinking quickly, Diego exhaled a sheet of flame, and though it did not completely melt the icicles, the small chunks of ice that did hit him were blunt and melting as each moment passed. She was undaunted, though; she had taken a place next to Brishen, and it looked as though the two were going to fight him in tandem. That wouldn't do.
He stomped his foot, causing a fiery fan to shoot out and across the ground. Brishen leapt above it easily, while Celia had to dive to the side to avoid it. Her water collapsed as she lost her concentration, turning the soil beneath her to mud. But just as quickly, she was on her feet again, and with a concerted pulling gesture, she painstakingly extracted the water from the ground, leaving it as dry as it was before. That was something that Diego hadn't seen before, and he had encountered a few hydromancers in his travels. He raised his blade to parry a water strike being directed his way, but it curved around his sword and slapped him across the face hard enough to make his stance buckle. Before he quite had a chance to recover, the Scion twirled his staff, gaining momentum, and unleashed an air blast so powerful that not just Diego, but everyone within ten feet was blown to the ground. He stood at the epicenter of a circle of confused fighters, strewn about in the dirt. He reached down and offered a hand to Celia, which she gratefully took.
"Sorry about that," he said.
"It's no trouble…look out!" Diego had scrambled back to his feet and sent one, two, three searing fire blasts at the pair. Brishen deflected the first with his staff, while Celia neutralized the second with a quick lash from her water whip, but the third one struck the ground in front of both of them, and there was an explosion of dust and clods of earth beneath their feet. Brishen shot out a pair of air currents to steady himself, and with the motion of drawing back curtains, sent out another pair of gusts to clear away the dust instantly. He looked over and saw that Celia had been blown a good few feet away, but she was all ready being helped to her feet by one of the Katarin Island warriors. Brishen didn't have any more time to see how she was doing; Diego was on the attack again, and Brishen was fighting for his life.
Celia was helped to her feet, but she was still a little dazed. If nothing else, this Prince Diego was a powerful pyromancer. She readied her water to dive back into the fray to help Brishen, but then her eyes fell upon Jack, who was locked in combat with a burly sergeant. She watched as he swiped at the man with his dirk, leaving a long scratch on the man's breastplate. The man came in with a gauntleted blow from his fist, but Jack ducked and thrusted, and the short but sharp blade bit home at the join in the man's armor where arm met shoulder. Jack withdrew the dirk and the sergeant fell to the ground, bleeding profusely. Jack turned, looking for a new foe, and saw his sister. "Celia!" he called to her as he rushed over. "What're you doing here? You need to get to safety!"
"Ugh!" she fumed. "I can fight, can't you see that? For your information, I just dueled with Prince Diego and held my own, so I think I'm more than capable of taking care of myself. Also—" she made a rough motion, as though she were backhanding the air to the side of her face, and as she did, a column of water rose up from inside her water skin and hit an oncoming enemy square in the face. He dropped to the ground in a heap. Celia smirked. "Satisfied?" she asked, a hint of exasperation in her voice.
"Very…" Jack said, sniffing the air for a moment. "Hey, sis, what's that on your breath?" Celia blushed a little.
"Oh, that?" she said, a little sheepishly. "It's called vodka. They make it here on the island. I took a little for…erm, courage." She coughed a little awkwardly, but completely contrary to her expectations, a look of devious comprehension was starting to dawn on Jack's face. Celia knew what that look meant. It meant that he was getting an idea. "What?" she asked. "What is it?" It was his turn to grin now.
"Tell me, sis," he said. "Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a pyromancer?"
The duel between Diego and Brishen was…inconclusive. No matter how hard the two tried, neither seemed to be able to best the other. Brishen would call upon his reserves of strength, only to find himself matched by the Fire Prince. Likewise, Diego would think his opponent finally cornered, only for Brishen to suddenly fight back with a renewed ferocity. His greater agility and skill with a staff had meant that Diego's rapier had been unable to touch him, while Diego was quite unharmed from being buffeted around by air blast after air blast. It appeared that they were evenly matched.
Diego shuffled forward and twirled his rapier with his wrist. But instead of going for a shot at Brishen, he scraped the tip of his sword along the ground, sending up a cloud of dust to the Scion's face in hopes of momentarily blinding him. Brishen exhaled, and the dust immediately dissipated in the face of his wind-breath. Diego slashed and then counterslashed at his target in strikes designed to wound the chest and legs, but Brishen dodged the first shot and blocked the second with the lower haft of his staff. The Scion twisted his staff, and Diego felt his weapon being wrenched out of his hands. The sword flew through the air, landing point down in the ground several feet away. Brishen smirked. Advantage, him.
The prince, however, was undaunted. He leapt forward, sparks and fire flaring up where his feet hit the ground. He twisted himself down, and then up in a lolling motion, and as he brought himself to bear he shot forth ten blasts of fire, one from each of his fingertips. Brishen felt fear, even downright panic as he saw that burning storm closing in on him, feeling that unnatural heat on his sweat-soaked head. He slammed his staff on the ground and kicked off hard, soaring into the air. He felt the searing heat on the tips of his toes, even through his tough walking boots, and knew he had just had a close call. But Diego aimed up at him and began to fire off blast after blast. With a cry of surprise, Brishen hastily spun himself about, weaving nimbly through an increasingly tight web of burning flames. But after managing to pull off a few very tricky maneuvers, ones that he would have to try and figure out again when he wasn't fearing for his life, Brishen noticed that Diego had stopped firing at him. Chancing a look down, he saw why.
Celia twirled her arms about her lithe body, and angry wheels of flowing flame twirled like streamers around her before shooting out towards the enemy. The Dominion soldiers had seen many things, but never had they been attacked by a foe using pyromancy, and the very thought of someone turning their own sacred art against them was almost unthinkable. It was most fortunate for them, then, that Celia was not actually pyromancer, and never would be.
I never thought to try bending vodka, she thought to herself as she washed a group of enemy troops with a wave of burning spirits. It had been Jack's idea. He had realized how flammable this vodka stuff was, and he'd been able to deduce that there was water in it, making it malleable with her abilities. When one combined both of Jack's brilliant notions, the result was…well, what she was doing right now. While she sowed confusion in the ranks of Diego's troops, Jack worked hard to keep any potential threats at bay. He furiously established a perimeter around his sister with flashing arrow and swinging blade. He was dueling with another guard, and this one was fighting well. Jack was frustrated at his seeming inability to get past his opponent's defense, and not for the first time today wished his tribe had had more metal so that he could have been given a weapon with a longer reach.
He saw a rare opening, and made to strike. But even as he brought back his dirk for the blow, something else struck in precisely the same spot he was going to. He saw the long sabre blade, and followed it up to the arm that held it, and then to Sasha's exquisite face. "I had him," Jack said, a little defensively.
"You could also say thank you," she replied pointedly. He shrugged, as though to say, "Fair enough." The two fought back to back, defending each other and lashing out at foes in equal measure. She's really good at fighting as part of a team, Jack noted. It made sense; she had trained her entire life to be a member of an elite troupe of warrior women. But he felt a strong camaraderie for her, the way he would with an old war buddy. Of course, he didn't have any old war buddies, but he imagined that if he did it would be similar. The fight became second nature to him, his body moving faster than his mind could keep track of. Faintly he heard someone calling his name.
"Jack!" Celia called while frantically working her hydromancy to aid as many beleaguered warriors as possible. The battle was in their favor for now, but the superior numbers of the Dominion forces were starting to tell. "Get to Appa! We need to get Brishen out of here!" Without completely understanding what he had just heard, but knowing that he had to obey it, Jack nodded grimly and began running for the other side of the island, using his dirk to cut through burning greenery as he did. He barely even realized that Sasha was running alongside him, so singleminded was he now.
Up ahead, he saw several unconscious Dominion soldiers. The skidmarks in the sand suggested that they had been thrown very forcefully by something very strong, and it didn't take Jack long to see what it had been. Appa rounded on them, and though he recognized Jack, he growled threateningly at Sasha. Almost instantly regaining full lucidity, Jack threw up his hands to pacify the beast. "It's all right, it's all right," he called to Appa. "She's a friend!" Grudgingly, Appa pawed at the ground with his frontmost hoof before relaxing slightly. Jack turned to Sasha.
"Sasha," he said. "You should come with us. We could use a warrior with your skills on our trip." Sasha's gaze met his, and there was a small amount of sadness written on her features.
"Jack," she began, "I'm sorry, but I cannot. My place is here, at the head of the Katarin Island warriors. You see how fragile the safety of this island is. Without us, this place could be overrun." Jack bit back everything he wanted to say: that Katarin Island wasn't a big military advantage, that she and her warriors would be more useful on the front lines, that she was being short-sighted. But instead of all of those things, he merely said:
"I want you to come."
"And I want to come," Sasha said. "But I cannot." Before Jack could say anything else, she leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Don't say anything more. You and your friends must escape now." Jack straightened up, scrambled aboard Appa, and grabbed the reins.
"Yip yip." Appa lifted off, his vast shadow crossing over the beach, leaving the shrinking figure of Sasha behind. Jack sighed, allowing himself one brief, sweet moment of emotionality. Then, he turned back to the matter at hand. He saw the swirling melee below him, and prepared to come in for a landing.
Nothing could have disrupted the flow of the battle quite like the landing of a gigantic sky bison would have. Both sides were thrown into disarray and confusion over what it was and whose side it was on, but it was not long before they spotted Jack at the reins and connected things on their own. Jack saw Brishen flying above them, preparing to come in for a landing, while Celia had discarded the last of her burning vodka and returned to using her familiar weapon of water. She broke her hydromancy stance and began running for Appa, and completely by instinct the Katarin Island warriors closed ranks around her, providing her with the cover she would need to escape. She dove onto Appa's tail, rushing up it and landing belly-down on the saddle. Brishen touched down daintily, and Jack hastily shook the reins. As suddenly as he had appeared, Appa was airborne once more, his precious cargo clinging for dear life.
"Back to the ship!" Diego called, before turning and running back the way they came. Immediately, all of his troops that could disengaged their attackers and began rushing towards the Burning Blade. As Diego ran, he fired off a mushroom-shaped burst of fire into the air. That was the signal for the engineers of the ship to ready it immediately for departure. He had learned from the previous encounter and vowed to himself that he would not let the Scion escape him this time. His men frantically worked as rearguard against the Katarin counter-assault, but as soon as they were within range of the Blade's heavier weapons, batteries began firing off. The Katarin warriors retreated under a hail of alchemical fire and explosions, but they were nonetheless victorious. They had succeeded in driving the Dominion from that precious island that they called home.
Belching massive plumes of black smoke, Diego's ship cut across water as its engine was being pushed to its very limit. His dark locks blew strongly in the wind as he kept his eyes fixated on the sky. He could see the outline of the sky bison becoming clearer and clearer, and if they kept up this pace they would soon be able to bombard the beast with their long-range weaponry. He fought down the urge to demand more speed; he knew that the engineers had almost overloaded the ship's fuel tank in order to get them moving as fast as possible. He took one cautious look back behind him to see Katarin Island all ready disappearing into the distance. Fine by him. He was glad to be rid of the place. He had lost a few good men in the battle due to the unexpected resistance. He made a mental note to someday return to that place after his honor was restored and reduce the entire place to ash as punishment for the difficulties its inhabitants had caused him.
He turned his gaze back to the fleeing form of the Scion and his sky bison. He narrowed his eyes in frustration and dislike. They were almost within range to fire, he told himself, and then they would be able to run their quarry to ground. So it was to his great surprise when he saw a great arcing blast of flame shoot for the sky bison, which it had to roll over in midair to avoid. Diego turned around wildly to his waiting gunners. "Which one of you fired without my signal!?" he bellowed over the roar of the ocean wind. The gunners looked around helplessly. The gunnery sergeant nervously scratched the back of his head.
"That wasn't us, Prince Diego." He pointed back out at the ocean, and Diego turned to see. There was a flotilla of ironclads in front of them, including one far bigger than his own ship. From that flagship flew the banner of the Dominion of Fire, but next to it flew another one, a standard that was obviously personal livery of the admiral of the ship. Diego's eyes narrowed in even more hatred as he cast his eyes on that symbol: a serpent coiling itself around a burning tree. It was the mark of the one man in this world that Diego despised more than the Scion.
The Blade pulled up alongside the vast ship, and two towering warriors in gold and red armor threw across a rope bridge, which Diego's own crew secured on the deck of their own ship. The two warriors made the crossing first, taking up positions flanking the walkway with their hands folded behind their backs. Diego and Inigo stood by as the man in question, resplendent with his black, gold, and scarlet livery, beginning his walk across the improvised bridge. Prince Diego spat with hatred.
"Hector."