New Blood
by Saber Alexander McConnell
Rated PG13

CHAPTER 39: Wildfire and Inferno

Something strange happened then, something familiar and comforting. The image Nohano had seen before, the image of the boy with black hair and blue eyes, returned before him, but this time it did not leave. Nohano stared, wondering if he'd gone insane. The boy laughed, but it wasn't a mocking laugh; warmth and compassion shone in his blue eyes, looking so much like Amaya's, but quicker to affection. His black hair fell in a mane behind him, half in his eyes, and he was clad in the familiar red riot gear. "It'll be all right, Nohano Kalama," said the boy with a warm smile. "Rekka chose you, and it chose you for your courage, and your spirit."

"S-Sanada?" Nohano whispered.

The boy winced slightly, then laughed again. "Call me Ryo. Sanada's my last name."

Nohano shook his head, suddenly grateful that this...ghost? Vision? Hallucination?...whatever it was, Nohano was intensely grateful it was here, and able to talk to him. Ryo's voice was light and good-natured, touched by a very strong Japanese accent, though he seemed to speak English well.

Nohano could not manage to speak, but he didn't need to. Ryo seemed to know.

"It's all right," said Ryo. "I know it seems hopeless, but it's not. Your friends are safe, for now. Talpa won't kill them—he needs the armors. And he needs you alive to power the armors when he gets them together. So he won't kill them yet."

Yet. The word was somehow horrible in its threat. "H-He's got them?"

"Yes. But you can save them. And I think you know how."

Nohano blinked, staring. "Kick---Kiko--" He snarled with frustration. "The Inferno armor!"

Ryo smiled proudly. "Yes. I know you've never done it before. But you can. You must join the powers of the armor. The others can give you their power, focus it within you, and you can channel it through the rekka armor. It will transform to Inferno, then, with everyone's power behind it. You can free the others with Kikoutei."

Nohano bit his lip, looking down, trying to grasp the enormity of the task before him. If what this boy—Sanada Ryo—said was true, his friends were already prisoners or near to it, and the only way he could free them was to do something he'd never done before in his life! "What weapons will I have?" he asked finally, wanting to get all the information he could before Ryo left him.

"Your katana," said Ryo, "but they will be a little different, and far more powerful than you've experienced. My friends are with the others now, guiding them also. You've discovered the most secret ability of your armor, something you find only when your bond with it has become its strongest. I discovered it much later—the ability to contact those who have worn the armor before you. Cye and Kento are having some difficulty—your three friends have been possessed by Nether Spirits."

"Bastards," Nohano spat.

"You can free them. Go ahead and climb down this miserable tree—there's a small door down there. You can get in through there. You'll know what to do." Ryo smiled, the gesture sending a surge of strength through Nohano. "Good luck, Kalama."

Nohano laughed weakly. "Call me Nohano," he said, leaning exhaustedly against the trunk of the tree. Ryo grinned in reply before his presence faded gently, and Nohano was once again alone. But he was no longer terrified—he was filled with a sudden confidence. He could do this.

But he had to be quick. Someone might already be on the way to collect him and take him to join his friends.

The climb down was exhausting, and by the time Nohano managed to reach a height he was comfortable jumping from, his hands felt numb from gripping the slippery handholds. When he leapt down, he landed on another of those wretched docks, but was surprised to find that the terror no longer threatened. He didn't know if after the deluge, a little knee-deep water wasn't so bad, or if he was too tired to care...or maybe because Ryo was hanging around after all, lending him a bit of strength. He ignored the water and strode wearily towards the doorway Ryo had told him of, looking puny after the huge, gaudy doors they'd tried to get through above.

Ryo was right, though. Once inside, Nohano seemed to know what to do. He worked on instincts, running through darkened corridors, searching for the presence, the minds of his family. Something about this horrible place seemed to cut their range down greatly, but Nohano thought that was a good thing—because once he did get in range, it would let him know he was close.

The palace was huge, full of corridors and chambers. But no enemies hampered him there. No soldiers seemed to den within the palace, either, though he did catch sight of the horrid glow of the Nether Spirits once or twice, managing to avoid their notice. Worry and rage both clashed within his mind as he hurried down the dark hallways and up flights of narrow, stone stairs. Every moment he strained to catch a sound, any sign he was getting close.

Nohano halted suddenly at the end of the corridor, a sudden image blinking into focus, an echo of sound. 'I'm close,' he thought, edging forward, the link beginning to strengthen. 'They're behind those doors.' At the other end of the corridor stood heavy, wooden doors, barring his way, and his friends were behind it.

He caught flashes of what was happening—they'd been rounded up and thrown into a vast chamber with toxic looking orange water. Killian, Demetrius, and Tarun still stood with the warlords, while the Nether Spirits attacked his friends, draining their power. Nohano took in a sharp breath, fury suddenly overcoming him. He realized that with this Inferno, he could pay Talpa back for what he'd done to his city, and to his friends. Sheer determination overcame him, and he forgot his fear, his doubt, and his pain.

Nohano stood quietly for several minutes, listening to the warlords jeering at his friends, hearing Xan call someone a word even Nohano never dared to say, and heard Rashida threaten someone in Urdu. He heard Talpa's laughter, and that, more than anything, fanned the fury. Ducking down an adjoining corridor, Nohano clenched his fists, trying to figure out just how he was to summon this Inferno. Combine the armors' power...

He closed his eyes, searching not for his friends' minds, but for the core of their armor, their spirit. They were all in full armor still, trying to fend off the Nether Spirits, but one by one he could feel them stop, suddenly aware of his presence, and somehow understanding what he needed. The impression of colored spheres came to Nohano, turning him cold. If those spheres were really there, Talpa would know what they meant!

The first jolt of power shocked him; he was almost knocked onto his back by a radiating surge of dark-blue light, and his spirit suddenly felt the joy Amaya must feel when gazing up at the moon, or being cradled in the darkness of Night. The sudden, brilliant light of Halo lit his mind next, filling it with wisdom and grace. The gray of Twilight was not stifling, but comforting, its power shielding him from any harm, and the sheer exhilaration of flight came from Strata, its sky blue joining the others within Nohano.

Energy, unlike any he had never felt, or imagined. It thrummed through him as if he were a high tension power line, swirling in his mind, increasing his power tenfold. He almost panicked, realizing the enormous might of that power, what he could do with it, afraid of what could happen if it ever went out of control.

But still it was not complete. Even as he heard cries of anger and disbelief from the warlords, the booming voice of Talpa ordering them to find "him"-- 'Me,' Nohano realized dazedly, he understood that he had not yet summoned Inferno. 'They're not all here!' Comprehension suddenly dawned. He didn't need to don the Inferno to free them—he would free them by drawing them into the Inferno!

Nohano turned his awareness fiercely towards Killian, seeking the boy's familiar mind, trying to capture how it had felt to be comforted, or harassed, or grinned at by his best friend, his brother. He summoned images of water, not terrifying, smothering water, but the warm comfort that Killian bore. Something blocked him, but he knew, he suddenly knew with absolute conviction that no Nether Spirit could hold up to the power of all of them, not with virtue, with jin focusing it all.

Nohano laughed aloud as the barrier suddenly broke, and aqua blue, watery energy flooded his mind, its soothing waters joining the growing firestorm. Demetrius and Tarun were next, adding the stolidity of the wide earth and the bright joy and energy of daybreak—and then it happened.

A mighty surge of power exploded behind Nohano's eyes, and he felt suddenly bigger, taller, more powerful, trembling with energy. White light shone around him, and he didn't even think. He worked on instinct, guided perhaps by the armor itself, or perhaps so entrenched in its spirit that there was no difference between him and the Inferno.

The shadows of the worried warlords passed him, and he let them go. He wanted Talpa.

Nohano ran, ignoring the startled cries of Tai Shuang and one of the others whose name he didn't know. The Wildfire he normally felt, the flames his fury translated into and the warmth he gained his comfort and strength from were nothing compared to the white-hot, raging energy of Inferno. He felt like nothing could stop him.

He burst through the doors, stopping short as Talpa stepped before him, and Nohano found he had room for a little fear, after all. He caught sight of four colored spheres of light surrounding his friends within, with three more off to the side, where Killian, Demetrius, and Tarun stood. But Talpa was clad in iron-gray armor, his red, hollow mask a horrifying representation of his spirit. Talpa growled low in his throat at Nohano, who drew the shimmering katana from his back. Talpa's rage was as great as his fortress, but there was something else, too. A yearning, greedy emotion that Nohano could feel pulsing beneath the rage. Talpa wanted this Inferno power for himself—wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything.

"Over my dead body," Nohano growled.

Talpa's eye sockets flashed red. "That can be arranged!"

And then he struck.

It was like nothing Nohano had ever seen, the skill, the power, and the fury that Talpa unleashed on him. The only thought that had time to occur to Nohano was that he was insanely fortunate to have gained the power of the Inferno, or he would already be dead. Only by the combined power of the Ronin was he able to keep up with the barrage of split-second-quick strikes from Talpa's weaponry.

The bright lightning of Rashida's Halo and the speed of Tarun's Daybreak gave him the speed to parry the attacks. Wildfire and Hardrock gave him the strength to keep standing, to strike back, to put his power into his own assault. Night and Twilight protected him from the full power of Talpa's magical weaponry, and Strata gave his movements grace and agility. When Talpa knocked his feet out from under him, forcing him briefly underwater, Torrent rushed through his mind to bring exhilaration and strength in place of fear. Laughter echoed in the chamber; light, grateful laughter that came from him, as he surged to his feet.

Talpa's warlords joined the fight, keeping their distance, and using their mystical powers instead. Kale's lightning slash seared Nohano's spirit, driven out by Halo, and Sekhmet's frightening snake fang strike sent venomous tendrils into his skin, cleansed by the Torrent. Dais's webs of deception were burned by Wildfire, and even the illusions he tried to cast were weak and wavery. The attacks of the lesser warlords were not nearly so powerful—but even so, they built up against Nohano.

With each strike of Talpa's blades, with each clash of their weapons, Nohano felt his exhaustion begin to bear down on him. But Talpa was weakening, too; Nohano could feel it in the diminishing of the terrifying rage he projected, in the slowing of his reflexes, and then lessening of force when his swords struck Nohano's armor, or clashed against his katana. Nohano's jubilation began to falter beneath the onslaught.

The Inferno was not invincible. Great gashes had been scored in its searing metal, and blood seeped from the injuries Nohano had taken from Talpa's blades. And worse, Nohano's friends were weakening, and he had a sudden, horrible fear that he would kill them, using their energy for too long. Was that possible? Would Ryo not have told him, if it was?

Nohano screamed as Talpa's sword cracked his helmet, scoring a deep line across his face. He cursed himself for being distracted, and swung both his katana above him, as if for his flare attack. But different words came to him then, words perhaps whispered by his armor's previous bearer. His voice sounded older, more powerful. "Rage of Inferno!"

The blast was not red fire, but white-hot, and when he unleashed it, the world seemed to be aflame. For a moment he felt panic, but it was clear a moment later it had only been an illusion, a simple representation of the attack, an attack that drained his energy at a frightening rate.

He didn't know what happened after that. He remembered dropping to his knees, and remembered a flash of bright, orange light surrounding him. A brief, confusing glimpse of stone and sky, before he surrendered to the blackness that flickered at the edges of his vision.

---

Once again, Sanada Ryo stood before Nohano, smiling broadly at him. It was dark around them, and Nohano wasn't sure where he was—had he died?

"You did it," said Ryo, grinning. "I told you you could."

"A-am I dead?"

Ryo chuckled. "No. You'll feel pretty wretched when you wake, but you're not dead. Neither is Talpa, unfortunately. But you knocked him down about a dozen pegs."

"What happened?"

"He teleported you all out of his palace before you could destroy it," said Ryo with a grin. "You were kicking some major butt out there. It's not easy to bear the Inferno, but you did it. Only real strength of spirit could have endured that kind of power and kept it under control."

Nohano felt his face grow hot, honored by the boy's praise, though not sure how deserving he was of it. "I just kinda worked on instinct."

"Yeah, that's how a lot of it is. With that much power you can't really stop and think much." Nohano nodded fervently. "I think you'll find his influence is gone from the city, and the people returned. I hope so, anyway. Talpa wants you out of his realm--he won't want to leave behind gateways you could come back through and finish the job."

Ryo's voice was grim, and Nohano realized after a moment why. Nohano might have defeated Talpa had he stayed, he might have sent him and his miserable warlords packing for years, maybe, like the original group of Ronins had. But Talpa had taken the coward's way out, using whatever strength he had left to get the Ronins out of his palace. "At least the people are safe," he said. "We'll be better prepared next time. I hope."

Ryo smiled, putting a hand on Nohano's shoulder. His hand was unusually warm, and Nohano suddenly laughed. Yeah—Ryo was definitely Wildfire. "You did well, my friend. And you will do well again. If you ever need my help, you know how to contact me."

Nohano nodded, feeling oddly reluctant to leave the company of this boy, feeling as though he'd grown close in a very short amount of time. "I do Ryo. And thanks."

"You'll want to go back in armor," said Ryo ruefully. "There'll be people there, and you won't want them to know who you are, walking out of the fence like that. The gate's sealed, but you should be able to go back through the fog."

So it was the fence! That was a good idea. Nohano felt extremely uncomfortable with the idea that people might find out who they were!

"Goodbye for now, then, my friend," said Ryo with a grin, and the two boys clasped hands before Ryo faded away. Nohano felt a sudden emptiness at Ryo's departure, but consoled himself by remembering that he could contact him again if he needed.

And besides...he was waking up.

The first thing he saw was Killian's face, looking worried and relieved and upset, and maybe half a dozen other things at the same time. His face was wet, and Nohano judged that he'd been crying. The minute Nohano opened his eyes, Killian threw his arms around him.

Nohano groaned—he was still injured, obviously, but unwilling to move away. He wrapped his arms around Killian, closing his eyes and spending a moment in thanks for his safe return. Killian was babbling hysterically—obviously he remembered fighting Nohano, and had apparently thought for a short time that he'd been responsible for Nohano's death. He was saying "sorry" about every other word.

Finally, Nohano put his hands firmly on Killian's shoulders, pushing him away just enough that Nohano could struggle to sit up and look him in the eyes. He didn't bother with saying anything aloud. Hey. The word was simple, firm, and filled with as much affection as Nohano could cram into it. Looking utterly miserable, and crying again, Killian stopped, looking at Nohano as if Nohano might reprimand him, or worse. Stop, mate. His use of Killian's most oft-used word made Killian blink, and Nohano gave him a gentle shake. You've got nothing to be sorry for. Nothing. I know whose fault that was back there, okay? I know.

Killian didn't say anything, and Nohano could still feel the guilt coming from him, but it was lessened a great deal, and Killian managed a grateful smile. Nohano hugged his friend once more, taking a big breath and letting himself realize that they had made it.

It was only then Nohano looked around and saw that they were still in the Nether Realm, and to his amazement, exactly where they had started from—black fog and all. He looked around to see that everyone was there, and though they were bruised and bloody, no one had any life-threatening injuries. They also managed to salvage one or two of the backpacks, though they were torn and filthy.

"Rashida got the serious ones," said Suisei quietly. He had Tarun in his arms and didn't seem wont to let go any time soon. Demetrius and Rashida sat side by side, and though Demetrius's face was calm, his eyes showed he'd been through a whole lot. In fact they all looked completely wrung out.

"Let's get out of here," said Xan urgently. "That jerk isn't defeated, not by a long shot. Just...pushed back behind enemy lines. We should get while the gettin's good."

"Okay," said Nohano, very carefully getting to his feet, shaking with fatigue and feeling shell-shocked. Xan was right, they could exchange stories later! "We should armor up. We don't exactly want people knowing who we are, all coming out of one of those evil doors."

"Won't that just make anyone out there paranoid?" asked Xan. "If there even is anyone out there? I mean use in armor and all?"

Nohano shrugged. "Probably," he said. "But with us comin' out of that gate--fence, we're gonna be suspicious anyway. And we won't want them knowing what we look like so easily."

The point was well taken, and everyone wearily summoned their armor. Aside from making them look less threatening, it covered the bloodstains and most of the bruises, so they looked a little less like they'd just been in a battle for their lives. Killian helped Nohano to his feet, and Nohano felt like he'd been run over with a truck, all right, just as promised. Nohano began to laugh, sounding a little hysterical, even to himself.

"You okay?" Killian asked, almost timidly.

"Just glad to be alive," said Nohano truthfully. A couple of the others chuckled appreciatively, and Killian smiled again, his arm around Nohano. 'We look like the walking dead,' thought Nohano ruefully. He watched Demetrius and Rashida contemplate the fog, then shrug and look back to the others.

"Together, I think," said Suisei, standing up and keeping Tarun close by his side.

Nohano nodded, and they all stepped forward into a tight group—and stepped into the fog.

Nohano half expected to be attacked by the strange shadow-beast things that had so hindered their way in, but they weren't; in fact he could see no sign of them whatsoever. 'Talpa really wants us out,' he thought in amazement, astonishment sending a chill over his entire body. 'He fears us--we really showed him we're something to reckon with!'

The first thing Nohano was hit with when stepping out of the fog was hot, bright sun. A quick look behind told him the fog had disappeared less than a second after they'd left it. Nohano looked up, overjoyed at the clear, blue sky, and couldn't help but laugh.

But he didn't laugh long.

The people were back, that much was clear, looking dazed and confused, but unharmed. The buildings were still destroyed, but what caught Nohano's attention was the Anti-Terrorist Squad a few meters away, quite alarmed at the group's sudden appearance. As the fog dissipated rapidly behind the group, the A-T fighters surrounded them, their weapons leveled. 'Oh, God,' Nohano thought. 'How to get out of this without hurting them...or us?'