When I first set out to write this book, I resolved to tell everything, even the things which are considered 'secrets' among my people. Which is why I know come to what my people call Mental Elements. I know, not all that original, but bear with me.

At around the age of six… no, I cannot tell it that way. It is best to simply say it.

We, elementals, see the four, or in some cases five, elements in human form.

It took decades for us to figure out what they actually are, but now we have at least some understanding of what happens.

Normally, the elements have no thought, no feeling, and no shape. They are simply that, fire, or water, or whatever. But the elemental is in some way able to communicate with the elements. Somehow, our minds create a sort of mental image of what they think an element would look like if it did have a human form, and then… we see it.

Ugh, this isn't working. I will try it another way.

A person with schizophrenia sees things that aren't there, but to them it is completely real. They can speak to them and touch them, but no one else around them can. It's almost the same thing, except that on a certain level they are real. Through us, the elements are given thought and form. It is almost telepathic on a certain level. We can touch them, feel them, hold conversations with them, but for all intents and purposes they aren't there. Strangely enough, when the Mental Element is present, it can actually touch and manipulate the objects around it.

Now some people may ask, if this is so, why don't we just use them (It would certainly make us a lot more powerful)? First of all, they cannot create elements either; only manipulate what is around them.

Second, they cannot be ordered to do anything. They are, after a fashion, their own person, and rarely if ever do what the elemental actually wants them to do.

Third, even though they have free will, they are not human. They are still elements and thusly have no concern for right and wrong, and no desire to care about it. There has never in history been a case of a mental who helped its elemental because of a desire to do good or bad. The chances of this happening now are none-existent.

Fourth, and finally, only the more mischievous mentals ever even bother to use their abilities while others are present. If no one knows who did it, as no one else can see them, why bother? They are largely selfish creatures.

As for what their purpose is, no one really knows. But I think that it is a mixture of things. On the one hand, they don't really have a purpose at all. They are simply the elements using their connection with us to have the chance to think and feel. On the other, I believe that in a way they are meant to help us to understand ourselves. With all four elements inside of us, our emotions can get a little random and being able to speak to them can do a great deal as far as helping us sort through them.

To finish this section, I would like to thank my own mentals for their constant commentary while I was writing this. Without them, this chapter would have gone much faster.


Chapter 3

"You!" She shouted.

The young man looked to be in his late teens to early twenties, with golden blonde hair, fair skin, and ruby red eyes. He was dressed in black jeans, a black suit coat, and a crimson silk dress shirt, which was unbuttoned at the collar. The intruder was grinning cheekily at Ann.

"Where have you been?" She demanded.

"I take it you didn't like the fireworks?" He asked, still grinning.

Ann jumped off of her bed, and marched over till their noses were inches apart, scowling darkly all the while. This would have worked better if he hadn't been half a foot taller then her.

"I swear," She began to rant "Time and time again I try and I try, and for what? So that you can go and have a smegin' fireworks display! I know I was the one to lose control but it would have been all right if you hadn't taken control of it and made it blow up to fifty times its normal size! I have never been closer to murder then I am right now!"

"Technically," The man interrupted "I'm a figment of your imagination. So you can't actually kill me."

"One, don't give me that 'figment' crap, I'm not an idiot. I know exactly what you are. Two, who ever said anything about killing you?"

His eyebrows shot up, and he paced a firm hand on each of her shoulders, and gently guided her into a sitting position on her bed.

"Now I think would be a good time for a bit of a breather." He murmured soothingly, or at least, as close as he could get to soothing.

"I can see it now. Wren." She mumbled miserably. "Element of fire as perceived by Em Cromwell. Named for psychotic Chihuahua in cartoon. Ultimate cause of said Cromwell's demise by causing insanity and frequent heart attacks."

She stood up and began pacing the room. Wren seemed to consider his options, and then came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her to his chest.

"Don't worry." He murmured in her ear seriously. "You won't stay upset with me for long. Granted, I am the only creature you ever get angry with ever, but you can never stay that way. With anyone else you'll brood and mope, but not me."

Ann sighed and turned her face to rest her cheek on his shoulder.

"You're right." She admitted. "I can't. But why, Wren, why did you have to do that? Why did you have to hurt Layla?"

Wren pursed his lips as he softly rocked her back and forth. He began tentatively.

"You of all people know that… that no matter what, we must follow our natures, our instincts. The others are almost eager to help you get better as long as you are happy. But as for me… well… you know what I respond to. But as I said, you don't get angry that often."

Ann nodded softly, the anger past.

"Now about that other matter…"

"Oh, Wren." Ann groaned. "Could we not talk about this right now?"

"Someone needs a nap." Wren said, playfully pouting.

Ann rolled her eyes, making Wren grin even wider.

"C'mon, I'll tuck you in."

That night I dreamt.

In my dream all was dark around me. I could not see anything, but for some reason I walked forward. When I tried to stray to one side or the other, an unseen force pushed me back till finally I felt no desire to move off of my invisible path at all. So forward I walked, in one long, straight line.

After what seemed like hours to me, I saw a glimmer in the corner of my left eye. When I turned my head to look, I saw a person, a man. But his body and face were clouded in shadow. This time, when I stepped toward him, no ghostly hands pushed me back.

So I walked toward him, and though he looked to be far away, it took only a few steps to get to him. I stopped and stood when I was just a few feet away. Now I could see that his eyes where closed, and I stretched out my hand, I don't know why, to touch him. But as soon as my finger grazed his cheek, his eyes opened.

I took an involuntary step back, for though all the rest of him was still clouded in darkness, I could now see that this eyes where like two glowing rubies. And as I stood transfixed by them, I saw that deep inside them, a fire burned. The only other things I saw of him but those eyes was a faint, silvery outline of his body, which was powerfully built, and far taller then my own, and hair. Long, dark locks just brushed his shoulders, and framed his face, only serving to add to the mysteriousness of his persona.

When I saw those eyes, my mouth fell open, but no sound came out. Finally I managed to shout out,

"Who, what are you? Why did you lead me from my former path? It might have been dull, yes, but at least it did not hold such fear!"

But he did not speak. He only stared, drawing me deeper into his gaze, until suddenly I could feel myself falling.

And then I woke up.

Ann shot up in bed, her eyes wide, and her breath coming in pants. Looking to her side, she saw that Wren was sitting upright on the other side of the bed, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"Ugh." She said. "Talk about a nightmare." And wiped the sweat off of her forehead with the back of her hand.

"What was it about?" Asked Wren, always eager to pry into her id.

"Nothing." She retorted, glaring at him. With a grin, he squeezed his eyes shut, taking advantage of the vaguely telepathic connection they shared. With a chuckle, his eyes popped open again.

"Warren Peace? You had a dream about Warren Peace?" He asked in a mock-disbelieving voice. Anna scowl darkened.

"I don't know what it was about. Probably just my subconscious mind putting him and you together." She retorted as she got out of bed.

"Ow." Was all he replied.

The next day at school wasn't all that bad. She met her new teacher, Mr. Boy, and got to know the school better. Thankfully, the school had decided to give the sidekicks a better classroom, as in, a room not in the basement. And they actually shared many classes with the heroes now. Ann was puzzled to notice that none of her new friends were in any of her classes.

"Mr. Boy?" She asked as she was leaving for lunch. "Do you know where Layla and Will are?"

"Oh yes." He replied with a smile. "They and their friends are going with Will's parents on a sort of field trip. Approved by Principal Powers of coarse. Did I tell you that I used to be The Commander's support?"

Ann could practically hear the capitals in his voice. She managed to bow out politely before he began one of his tangents about how he had worked with Steven Stronghold… yadda yadda yah. Not that she didn't like it when people went on tangents, especially someone with as many interesting and exciting stories as Mr. Boy. It was just that she really needed to eat.

Entering the cafeteria, she saw to her horror that all of the other tables were completely filled up, all except for two, the one that Lash was sitting at, and Warren Peace's.

"Ah, the moment of truth." Said a snide voice in her head.

"Not helping, Wren." She muttered, her eyes flashing between the two.

Choice A: Sit with her best friend, who would be more then happy to give her a seat, and speaking to him before the two week hiatus was up, thus completely destroying her reputation as a brooder and complete icicle when upset.

Choice B: Ask the resident pyrokinetic, bad boy, who to be perfectly honest scared her to death, if he would be so kind as to let the little, awkward British-sounding girl sit at his table.

Taking a deep breath, she took one step, and then another forward. Until the last moment, even she didn't know which way she was going to go, straight ahead, or to the left. At the last moment she swerved, planting her directly beside the most feared boy… man… guy in all of Sky High.

She cleared her throat tentatively, hoping that he wouldn't incinerate her before she had a chance to apologize for bothering him.

Warren looked up from his book to see the girl who had been sitting with Will and his friends the day before. He glared at her, but raised a questioning eyebrow, signaling her to speak her piece and then be gone.

"Excuse me, could I sit here?" Her voice just barely managed to not squeak as she pointed to the seat in front of him. He stared at her for several seconds, as if he didn't believe what she was asking.

"Why?" He finally asked, his voice so low and quiet that Ann could almost feel her bones vibrate.

"Because there's not really anywhere else to sit?" She said it almost as a question, as if to ask him if it was an acceptable answer. There was another pause as he studied her through the veil of dark hair that fell over his face.

"You're a friend of Layla's?" He finally asked. And she paused, unsure at first.

"I hope so." She finally answered quietly.

Warren thought about his for another moment, and then gave a resigned gesture toward the seat in front of him. With an audible sigh, Ann slid into the seat, and began to unpack her lunch. Warren couldn't help but notice that her lunch was approximately twice the size it was yesterday, including a ham sandwich, the fruit salad, approximately a dozen Chip's Ahoys, and her thermos.

Silence reigned for a good five minutes, with Warren reading his book in between bites of PB & J, and Anna eating surprisingly elegantly for the rate of which she was consuming. Finally, her dislike for even somewhat awkward silences overrode her good sense.

"May I ask what you're reading?" She asked. Warren just held up the book for a second so that she could read the cover.

"The Princess Bride." She read matter-of-factly, and then proceeded to stare at the book in wonder.

"What?" He finally asked sharply, startling her out of her reverie.

"Nothing!" She exclaimed quickly, and then backtracked. "It's just that it's so… so… happy." She finished lamely.

"So?" He asked. Ann could tell that he was quickly losing patience with her.

"I just had you pegged for more of the Poe, or Anne Rice. Y'know, being the brooding bad boy and all."

Warren stared at her like she'd grown a second and third head.

"Smooth move." She heard Wren chortle.

But surprisingly, Warren didn't roast her on the spot. Instead he looked up completely so that he was no longer hunched over, and pushed his book to the side. Ann wasn't sure whether this was a good or a bad sign.

"So, what does this," He waved a hand at his book, "Tell you about me?"

"That you're not a stereotype." Her witty mouth said before her logical brain thought.

For a moment, Ann almost thought she saw a twinkle in his eye, which brought her attention to them. She was surprised by the color, a lovely, warm brown. Like hot chocolate.

"What?" Warren asked again, making Ann blush.

"Oh… um…" She stammered, trying to cover her embarrassment, and failing miserably. "I was just noticing your eyes are… um… brown."

"I know." He replied flatly, making the faint tinge in her cheeks go to a dark pink.

"Uh oh." She heard Wren say, sounding genuinely worried for the first time in her life.

"I just didn't expect them to be that… particular… color."

"Um, Em luv?"

"Oh? And what did you expect?" He was enjoying this way too much.

"No! Stop, drop, and roll, Em! Stop, drop, and roll!"

"Oh, I don't know… maybe… red." She finished quietly.

"AAAAH! Bail! Bail!"

Warren's face darkened. Why hadn't she shut up? She didn't even know why she hadn't shut up when she had the chance, but something about his voice made her answer him.

"Now why would you think that?" He asked her tensely, his voice now impossibly low.

Ann ducked her head.

"Eh… well…" The light bulb in her head finally managed to turn on. "I've heard that some pyros have red eyes."

"That's my girl! Good save!"

Warren frowned, not sure if he believed her. So he only gave a grunt and went back to his book. Ann nearly fainted from relief for the second time that day, and thanked whatever God existed that the bell rang just then.

As she left, Warren looked up and watched her as she left, and wondered how many people would have known about his father's eyes.