Queen of Random: Well, here it is, chapter six of Trial by Fire. Hope it
hasn't been too long since I last posted. I was away over my summer
holidays doing stuff. But it gave me a lot of time to think about what I
was going to write next. I was at a camp, working as a adult, helping to
supervise and run a programme for over 2000 girls. So one night, a few
friends and I were discussing what things our favourite mutants might be
doing if they were also working on this kind of camp. Of course, we had to
have Kitty with the catering crew, and Logan as her handy-dandy chopping
device. Rahne would find the kids who got lost during orienteering (and we
really did lose a few girls doing that, but we found them. . .
eventually!), and Xavier would be the counsellor. His most important job
would be to help the person sent late at night to find Scott and Jean. . .
and who did find them. . . out in the forest. Moving on, Amara would have
been the campfire, and John would be the person in charge of the campfire
sing-along. We also had Piotr working on the flying fox (which was the
activity I helped run), pulling the cable down so others could unhook the
person who had just come down. Of course, he would let go a tad too soon,
and the person doing the unhooking would end up suspended in the air,
hanging from the wire (which did happen, trust me). Oh, and going back to
Kitty being on catering, Pietro is making a fortune smuggling fast food
into the camp. Those were the main jobs that they had, unless you have any
others. By the end of the camp, my friends, who know that I write as
Regina, the Queen of Random, were telling me that I should just go ahead
and turn it into a story. Maybe I could make it interactive as well. What
do you think?
Trial by Fire
Chapter Six: Visions of Fire
Later that evening, at dinner, Amara did her best to try an conceal the day's events from the adults and the other students, in particular Xavier and Jean. After all, you don't want the two house psychics to know that there is something between you and someone who's working for the very man you are supposed to be fighting against.
"Something wrong, Amara?" asked Ororo, concern in her blue eyes.
A false smile on her face, Amara replied, "No. Nothing's wrong. Why?"
Ororo frowned slightly, the worry on her face obvious. "You haven't been right since Pyro's attack."
"It's understandable," added Xavier. "From what Ororo and the other tells me, he attacked you directly."
"It would be strange if you weren't affected by something like that," said Hank, adding his own voice to the mix.
Affected, thought Amara to herself. Nice choice of words.
Out loud she said, "I'm not feeling too good. May I be excused?"
"Of course."
*
John watched as Amara returned to her room after leaving the dinner table early. He was in yet another tree, this one giving him a prime spot for looking into the Institute. He smiled to himself briefly as the idea of him being a Peeping Tom fluttered through his head like a candle in a breeze.
Peeping John was more like it.
But it was not like anything major was happening, so, in his eyes, he wasn't doing anything wrong. He was just checking on his fire angel, making sure she was all right.
She was not all right, as she was clearly agitated. But whether it was because of what had happened that afternoon, or she was affected by his presence, he could not tell.
He only knew that he needed to do something, and to do it fast.
Suddenly he snapped his fingers, the perfect idea coming to him.
*
Finally Amara drifted off to sleep, so worn out by the day's events that she had not even changed out of the clothes she had worn that day. As soon as her eyes closed, she returned to the dream which had been haunting her for some time now.
In the beginning, she was in complete darkness, and she could see nothing. She could sense the presence of others around her, and dimly hear their voices, but she did not know who or where they were. She felt cold, an odd thing for a mutant who was flame itself, and had lava flowing in her veins instead of blood.
And then a hand reached out and took her own, while another hand gently took hold of her chin, lifting her eyes up.
Suddenly, beyond all of her will and reason, she burst into flame, and the entire area around her was lit up. For a moment she could see her fellow X- Men and team-mates, as well as some other mutants she had never seen before, but then they vanished, burned away by her brilliance.
And for the first time she could see the face of the man who held her so tenderly, his arms strong and protective, but gentle at the same time.
But not for long, as he moved his head, and gently kissed her on the forehead. She could feel the warmth of his lips against her skin, bringing her to life, heightening every sense.
And with those heightened senses, she could feel his lips move from her forehead down through her hair, to her eyes, to her cheek.
But before he kissed her on the lips, he pulled away, and his eyes were so infinitely sad that Amara could feel the tears well up in her own eyes.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
And then he pushed her away, and everything went dark again.
Both in her mind and with her voice she screamed, piecing the darkness that surrounded her, calling out for him.
"John!"
*
That scream echoed throughout the mansion, and everyone there heard it, whether they were asleep or awake.
John heard it, too, even though he thought he was out of earshot. But the way he heard it was not with his ears, but with his mind. . . or perhaps his soul.
Amara's scream tore through him, ripping him apart, hurtling him into agony. The pain that she felt was passed on to him, and he felt it increasing with every heartbeat. She was in pain, and so was he. He could feel her loneliness, her sorrow, and every other emotion she was feeling. But the most important thing he could feel was her scream, and what she was screaming. He could feel her call out for him, reaching for him with her heart, but draw back, something stopping her from giving in to some primal instinct she was feeling.
Suddenly it stopped, and John was thrown back, released from whatever it was that had taken hold of him. He breathed in short, shallow gasps, as if he had nearly been drowned - which was a good way of describing that feeling of being overwhelmed by something so powerful, so pure, so beautiful. . . and so Amara.
It was her spirit, her soul, her essence that had done that, that had called out to him, that was in pain, and that needed him so badly it hurt.
But he was hurt, too, and as much as he wanted to, needed to, he could not go to her.
He would have to wait, at least until the X-Men left her side.
*
Kitty was the first to enter Amara's bedroom, phasing through the closed door. She rushed to Amara's bedside, and knelt by the distraught girl. "Amara, what's wrong?"
But Amara did not seem to hear her. She had her face buried in her hands, although that did not hide the fact that she was crying. She spoke as if Kitty was not even there, as though she was speaking to someone else, someone Kitty could not see.
"Why did you go? So close, so close. Don't go. Don't be sorry. Why did you go?"
Kitty was silent for a moment, then she tried again. "Amara? Who are you talking to?" "I thought we had something in common. You said so yourself. Don't go! Don't leave me here! I need you!"
"Kitty, you can go now."
Kitty turned around to see Xavier, Ororo, Logan and Hank all at the doorway. "All right, professor," she replied, standing up. She started walking to the door, but stopped next to Xavier. "Is she going to be all right?"
"Go back to bed, Kitty." Xavier's voice was firm. Kitty disappeared through the wall.
After Kitty left, Xavier rolled over to Amara's bed. "Amara?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Amara?"
Under his touch, Amara seemed to jerk into wakefulness. Her hands dropped from her face, and she stared at him with fearful eyes, her lip trembling.
"Are you all right, Amara?"
Amara looked around, and saw the other adults watching her, concern in their eyes. She took in a deep breath, her chest rattling, before finally speaking. "I think so."
"What happened?" asked Ororo. "We could hear you screaming."
"I - I had a nightmare, I guess," she said quietly.
"What about? Do you remember?"
Amara thought about it for a minute, her mind clearing, and the fear receding. "No. I don't remember."
Xavier smiled slightly. "That's not uncommon. Are you all right now?"
Amara nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine. You can go back to bed now."
"All right," said Hank. "We'll let you go back to sleep. Good night."
"Good night."
*
After the incident with Amara, everyone returned to their bed, and quickly returned to the depths of sleep. Even Amara, although she was quite shaky after what had happened.
But it was more the fact that she had lied to Xavier and the others that was keeping her up, rather than the dream itself.
She could remember it clearly, in such vivid detail that she swore it had been real.
But the thing that troubled her the most was the role that John had played in it, and the feelings that he had caused to rise and swell inside her. Just the though of him caused her heart to beat faster, and her temperature rise.
But she did eventually go to sleep, and she returned to him in her dreams.
But in this one he spoke to her, more than just the brief apology of the previous dream.
Her eyes snapped open, and her vision was filled with fire.
*
Tabitha woke up a while after she had gone back to sleep. Her stomach gave a slight growl, so she decided to satisfy her hunger. After all, no one would miss a few cookies from the jar.
Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she wandered past Amara's bedroom, barely noticing that the door was open.
About a few seconds later, and a few metres further down the hall, she stopped, and started walking back.
Not long afterwards, Tabitha burst into Ororo's room, the slam of the door, coupled with Tabitha's shout, dragging the woman into wakefulness.
"Amara's gone!"
Trial by Fire
Chapter Six: Visions of Fire
Later that evening, at dinner, Amara did her best to try an conceal the day's events from the adults and the other students, in particular Xavier and Jean. After all, you don't want the two house psychics to know that there is something between you and someone who's working for the very man you are supposed to be fighting against.
"Something wrong, Amara?" asked Ororo, concern in her blue eyes.
A false smile on her face, Amara replied, "No. Nothing's wrong. Why?"
Ororo frowned slightly, the worry on her face obvious. "You haven't been right since Pyro's attack."
"It's understandable," added Xavier. "From what Ororo and the other tells me, he attacked you directly."
"It would be strange if you weren't affected by something like that," said Hank, adding his own voice to the mix.
Affected, thought Amara to herself. Nice choice of words.
Out loud she said, "I'm not feeling too good. May I be excused?"
"Of course."
*
John watched as Amara returned to her room after leaving the dinner table early. He was in yet another tree, this one giving him a prime spot for looking into the Institute. He smiled to himself briefly as the idea of him being a Peeping Tom fluttered through his head like a candle in a breeze.
Peeping John was more like it.
But it was not like anything major was happening, so, in his eyes, he wasn't doing anything wrong. He was just checking on his fire angel, making sure she was all right.
She was not all right, as she was clearly agitated. But whether it was because of what had happened that afternoon, or she was affected by his presence, he could not tell.
He only knew that he needed to do something, and to do it fast.
Suddenly he snapped his fingers, the perfect idea coming to him.
*
Finally Amara drifted off to sleep, so worn out by the day's events that she had not even changed out of the clothes she had worn that day. As soon as her eyes closed, she returned to the dream which had been haunting her for some time now.
In the beginning, she was in complete darkness, and she could see nothing. She could sense the presence of others around her, and dimly hear their voices, but she did not know who or where they were. She felt cold, an odd thing for a mutant who was flame itself, and had lava flowing in her veins instead of blood.
And then a hand reached out and took her own, while another hand gently took hold of her chin, lifting her eyes up.
Suddenly, beyond all of her will and reason, she burst into flame, and the entire area around her was lit up. For a moment she could see her fellow X- Men and team-mates, as well as some other mutants she had never seen before, but then they vanished, burned away by her brilliance.
And for the first time she could see the face of the man who held her so tenderly, his arms strong and protective, but gentle at the same time.
But not for long, as he moved his head, and gently kissed her on the forehead. She could feel the warmth of his lips against her skin, bringing her to life, heightening every sense.
And with those heightened senses, she could feel his lips move from her forehead down through her hair, to her eyes, to her cheek.
But before he kissed her on the lips, he pulled away, and his eyes were so infinitely sad that Amara could feel the tears well up in her own eyes.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
And then he pushed her away, and everything went dark again.
Both in her mind and with her voice she screamed, piecing the darkness that surrounded her, calling out for him.
"John!"
*
That scream echoed throughout the mansion, and everyone there heard it, whether they were asleep or awake.
John heard it, too, even though he thought he was out of earshot. But the way he heard it was not with his ears, but with his mind. . . or perhaps his soul.
Amara's scream tore through him, ripping him apart, hurtling him into agony. The pain that she felt was passed on to him, and he felt it increasing with every heartbeat. She was in pain, and so was he. He could feel her loneliness, her sorrow, and every other emotion she was feeling. But the most important thing he could feel was her scream, and what she was screaming. He could feel her call out for him, reaching for him with her heart, but draw back, something stopping her from giving in to some primal instinct she was feeling.
Suddenly it stopped, and John was thrown back, released from whatever it was that had taken hold of him. He breathed in short, shallow gasps, as if he had nearly been drowned - which was a good way of describing that feeling of being overwhelmed by something so powerful, so pure, so beautiful. . . and so Amara.
It was her spirit, her soul, her essence that had done that, that had called out to him, that was in pain, and that needed him so badly it hurt.
But he was hurt, too, and as much as he wanted to, needed to, he could not go to her.
He would have to wait, at least until the X-Men left her side.
*
Kitty was the first to enter Amara's bedroom, phasing through the closed door. She rushed to Amara's bedside, and knelt by the distraught girl. "Amara, what's wrong?"
But Amara did not seem to hear her. She had her face buried in her hands, although that did not hide the fact that she was crying. She spoke as if Kitty was not even there, as though she was speaking to someone else, someone Kitty could not see.
"Why did you go? So close, so close. Don't go. Don't be sorry. Why did you go?"
Kitty was silent for a moment, then she tried again. "Amara? Who are you talking to?" "I thought we had something in common. You said so yourself. Don't go! Don't leave me here! I need you!"
"Kitty, you can go now."
Kitty turned around to see Xavier, Ororo, Logan and Hank all at the doorway. "All right, professor," she replied, standing up. She started walking to the door, but stopped next to Xavier. "Is she going to be all right?"
"Go back to bed, Kitty." Xavier's voice was firm. Kitty disappeared through the wall.
After Kitty left, Xavier rolled over to Amara's bed. "Amara?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Amara?"
Under his touch, Amara seemed to jerk into wakefulness. Her hands dropped from her face, and she stared at him with fearful eyes, her lip trembling.
"Are you all right, Amara?"
Amara looked around, and saw the other adults watching her, concern in their eyes. She took in a deep breath, her chest rattling, before finally speaking. "I think so."
"What happened?" asked Ororo. "We could hear you screaming."
"I - I had a nightmare, I guess," she said quietly.
"What about? Do you remember?"
Amara thought about it for a minute, her mind clearing, and the fear receding. "No. I don't remember."
Xavier smiled slightly. "That's not uncommon. Are you all right now?"
Amara nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine. You can go back to bed now."
"All right," said Hank. "We'll let you go back to sleep. Good night."
"Good night."
*
After the incident with Amara, everyone returned to their bed, and quickly returned to the depths of sleep. Even Amara, although she was quite shaky after what had happened.
But it was more the fact that she had lied to Xavier and the others that was keeping her up, rather than the dream itself.
She could remember it clearly, in such vivid detail that she swore it had been real.
But the thing that troubled her the most was the role that John had played in it, and the feelings that he had caused to rise and swell inside her. Just the though of him caused her heart to beat faster, and her temperature rise.
But she did eventually go to sleep, and she returned to him in her dreams.
But in this one he spoke to her, more than just the brief apology of the previous dream.
Her eyes snapped open, and her vision was filled with fire.
*
Tabitha woke up a while after she had gone back to sleep. Her stomach gave a slight growl, so she decided to satisfy her hunger. After all, no one would miss a few cookies from the jar.
Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she wandered past Amara's bedroom, barely noticing that the door was open.
About a few seconds later, and a few metres further down the hall, she stopped, and started walking back.
Not long afterwards, Tabitha burst into Ororo's room, the slam of the door, coupled with Tabitha's shout, dragging the woman into wakefulness.
"Amara's gone!"