The crystal-clear water hovered before him. It twisted and held firm at his command, bound to his will. An orb, a cube, a serpentine arc which flowed as though it swam through the air. All training shown to him by his Monarch, and then expanded upon by Pure-Wind-and-Waters. His concentration shattered at the thrill of excitement which flooded his chest, and he allowed the water a cool glance as it collapsed back into the frigid waters of what his Monarch referred to as the Lake of Rage.
He leveled his gaze upon the Dark-and-Cold, one of the few of Torrent's subjects which had not yet been honored with a name by their Monarch. His subject's black fur rose in thick hackles as he hissed and sneered happily at his failure. Torrent tossed his head and did not regard Dark-and-Cold. He was a petty creature, eager to bring others down to his level for his own amusement.
Torrent would not suffer such indignity.
Glacial waters flowed upward and collected into a frozen sphere in a single smooth motion. Torrent held his focus unflinchingly. A mighty foe awaited him in what his Monarch referred to as Blackthorn, and he would not do a fellow regent the dishonor of being unprepared. His own Monarch had placed a great deal of faith in him, and that faith would not go unrewarded.
His Monarch had never allowed Torrent's own faith to be proven misplaced.
It held. Torrent drew upon the wisdom graciously imparted to him by Pure-Wind-and-Waters. His head rose in pride at being graced with such an honor, and the sphere trembled only a moment before control reasserted itself. He allowed the water to flow into a thin sheet, designed to shield his form from attacks cast at him from afar, though it would not hope to stand against a foe such as mighty Infernus. Such fires would burn even water.
Perhaps this new skill would allow Infernus some entertainment. It had been too long since they had tested their might against the other. All of his subjects held his respect. They had bled for their Monarch, and would endure all that fate may place in their way in service to their Monarch. Admirable.
Yet despite their subservience, their service, Torrent found a particular kinship with Infernus. An unseen respect. In Infernus he saw what he might be without the yoke of responsibility placed upon his neck: a warrior eager and free to test his strength. That desire burned deep in his bones. The wisdom of Pure-Wind-and-Waters and the Song which echoed in his mind from the brief touch of Moon-and-Storm could not temper such a primal urge.
It would never be free. Eager as he was to loose gales and blizzards and golden fire that strained to escape him, Torrent recognized the danger. The world, this static and fragile land, could not suffer such power without consequence. The wild ones which watched his Monarch and subjects with such fear and awe would be torn apart beneath his might. Their homes would be blown away. Their hard work and efforts would be no more, all for the satisfaction of Torrent's desires.
Unacceptable. To possess great power was to possess utmost restraint. This was not the wild waves and darkest depths of the ocean which his heart longed for, the open sea where his power would rage on unrestrained as a tempest. To live amongst others was to deny himself.
Moon-and-Storm had allowed him communion when the Monarch had been named Storm-Tamer. It had whispered secrets to him, revelations of the black trenches and the hidden places of the seas. Glimpses of what was and what would be. More, it had left him an offer. His Monarch would not live forever. Doomed as all of humanity, though his Monarch cast a greater shadow now than the rest of his kind could even hope to match.
It shattered his heart to imagine his Monarch hunched and old, the breath gone from his lips and eyes absent of their luster, yet Torrent knew it to be fated. And when that accursed day would come, Torrent would leave the arid land and venture into the waves forevermore to serve a new Monarch. A life of freedom in servitude. Moon-and-Storm could not match his Monarch, but it was as close as he would ever know in this world.
To be free of these thoughts, absent of responsibility… that was Infernus, and it was why Torrent envied him so.
Infernus exalted in his strength. He did not care for responsibility, or duty, or others. He was no Monarch, and he did not pretend to be. Infernus was power unrestrained. A wildfire in the flesh. It was a simple life and one that Torrent desperately sought yet inexorably rejected. He could only find his joy in meeting his match in Infernus, and these new secrets would only drive their spars to new heights.
When he descended into the waves, where would the mighty Infernus go?
Torrent knew the answer in his bones. He knew Infernus just as he knew himself. Infernus, bound to nothing and no one, would throw himself against whatever challenge he may face. And when he inevitably triumphed, he would seek out the next. Then the next, and the next… all until the entire world was aflame, and no challengers remained.
Then, Infernus would seek to become more. He would not rest. He would seek to reclaim the Fire which their Monarch had beseeched him to surrender, and he would earn that power and fill his flesh with Fire yet again.
As dreadful as the thought was, Torrent yearned to see that day. Infernus would achieve the unthinkable, or he would die trying.
He shook his great head as he wove his water into various symbols. A long, thin line. A coiled Gyarados, much like the ones which had challenged him when they first arrived at the Lake of Rage. They had learned their place and scurried from him now. It was satisfying, though no proper challenge. His Monarch had not even had the opportunity to witness it.
The waves lapped against his plated scales. It was a pleasant cold. His form had been shaped to withstand the crushing weight and chilling force of the deep sea. His home. This was nothing.
It was a simple affair to rest easy in this simple comfort. This sea-hidden-in-land, this Lake of Rage, was as close to home as he had seen in a great deal of time. His Monarch indulged him when they traveled on the coastline. When his Monarch allowed Torrent to sink deep into the salty spray of the ocean, he knew peace.
On dry, arid land Torrent would never know freedom. He was a cripple, as much as the King was in the ocean. It was simple to survive. It was simple to hold himself aloft with his might and will. Yet survival and functionality did not imply comfort, or quality.
His dry scales would itch. His eyes burned and skin seared without the soothing touch of water. It was livable, yet unpleasant. His Monarch would often take the time to pour water over Torrent, and each morning he would coat Torrent in a thick layer of wax. It was suffocating, but it eased his life in this alien place. It was appreciated. Many humans would not go to such lengths.
It was simple for him to spout water over his body. His form produced its own coating in order to adapt to life outside of the sea. But to be in water…
Peace.
Most discomforting of all was the knowledge that he was nothing above ground. A great deal of his power, perhaps a third, was focused entirely into maintaining his levitation. It was an exhausting task. Not mentally, but a moment's distraction could cause his collapse.
To live life outside of the water was to live without an unseen limb. He could not show his Monarch his true potential on the surface. He needed water. Torrent needed the freedom to focus his full might - his true power - against an opponent, to bring all he was to bear and to feel the fire in his blood ignite when he watched them fall.
Perhaps it was for this reason he envied Infernus. His friend was not hampered. He thrived in this world. Yet another freedom that Torrent would never possess. One day, he hoped that Infernus would burn so hot that even the sea would prove no hindrance. Then they might see who truly was more mighty.
Torrent would be forever grateful for his Monarch for envisioning this newest development. With this, he would no longer be so bound by his limits. He would serve the Monarch with all his might and surpass Infernus, the King, the Binder, Bruiser, Dazed...none would challenge him. His reign would be uncontested.
He could not live and fight in the water, but he could now bring it to him.
And so he redoubled his efforts. Ever greater spheres and walls shaped from the waves of the Lake of Rage, ever more intricate formations, ever smoother to be wielded.
His Monarch would be proud.
A/N: Here we go! I've wanted to do another of Ash's team for a long time now and it just hasn't felt like the right time. I already know when I want to do Oz, Bruiser, and Infernus' and this situation and where Torrent is with his character development and abilities felt perfect!
I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please leave your
