"Auntie?" the girl called.
"Give me a minute. The fire is getting weak," Kiara replied, voice level and firm.
She put some wood in and arranged it with the poker. Her hand moved mechanically as she was thinking everything over. Then, putting the poker away, she held onto it for a second, before ultimately letting go.
Tense as a bow string, she went to the table.
Fire burning within her.
"Finally! I was just about to…"
Kiara pushed the girl face down on the floor and pressed a knee to her back, holding her hands tight. Deaf to the curses the pretender was spitting as she tried to wriggle out.
Kiara twisted her arm. "Stop it."
Hissing, the girl settled down.
"Now you will tell me who you are and what you want. Quickly, before I start breaking your bones."
"What do you mean – "who I am"? I'm Ti…!"
"Tiara has been dead since March. I know it for a fact."
The pretender turned her head to look at Kiara, into her eyes, and went completely limp. All worry and confusion washed off her face. "You weren't supposed to know," she said in a perfectly calm voice. "You couldn't have known. You never came back to V-city and none of Tiara's friends knew how to contact you. There was nobody who could've told you."
Except for one kind reaper. But of course, Kiara kept that to herself.
"Sorry for ruining your plan. You clearly put a lot into it. But I got sick of this farce. You will talk, now!"
She twisted the pretender's arm more but this time there was no reaction. Could this thing even feel pain? She still didn't know what she was dealing with. Shapeshifters copied looks, but not personality or memories. Only real Tiara would know about the cups and the figures. Only Tiara would know how to find this place and Kiara's true nature.
Of course, there was truth serum, hypnosis and other illegal, cumbersome means. But if somebody had Tiara in their grasp, it would've been much easier to just control her mind. Yet she died on a job and her spirit spoke nothing of this. Also, her remains were cremated, so no necromancy could've been involved.
Honestly, Kiara was at a loss.
"Very well, I will explain," the pretender said. "But let's get comfortable first."
There was a prickle of pain. So insignificant Kiara almost missed it.
"What…?" she uttered shivering.
Shuddering…
As cold spread through her body, tearing into her flesh and bones, tainting her blood. It drove every spark, every bit of warmth to the depth of her being and devoured those that fell behind. Vicious beyond any mere frost. Rabid. It chased the warmth all the way to her inner flames, then attacked them as well. All that strength she had only a moment ago vanished without a trace.
The pretender simply stirred and Kiara staggered back as if pushed off by a great force. She slumped on the floor, barely able to stay seated. With an even greater effort, she held herself to stop the shudders, to get warm. All in vain.
The pretender sat up and studied the collapsed figure. There was no triumph or satisfaction on that fake face, no glint in the unblinking eyes. Only unnerving indifference.
"What did you do?" she asked through the chattering teeth.
"I just insured we can have a civil chat," the pretender said. However, the voice was now male. It came out of the open mouth, like from a speaker. The pretender held up an index finger and a needle poked out of the tip, then slid back in.
Kiara checked her hand and found a little mark on her wrist, still bleeding.
"It's an inhibitor for fire powers. One of our best inventions," the pretender said with pride, yet the face remained blank, all of its functions switched off. "But to think one shot would be enough to turn you into a helpless puppy… like some hellhound… I'll be honest, I am a little disappointed."
Kiara snarled. "So, this is just a tin can?"
"In your primitive mind, perhaps…"
"And you are… what? Some kind of scientist?"
"Some kind, yes," the man said with a bitter note. "But that will change soon enough. Once I figure out how you work… Your body, your powers… those miraculous flames that bring you back from the dead… I just can't wait to study all of you!"
The excitement in his voice made Kiara shiver in a way no cold could.
"Oh, sorry, I got carried away." The man chuckled. "But it can't be helped. I'm in the presence of a legend."
The fake got closer and looked her in the eyes. There was something intense in that stare, however blank it was.
"Phoenix," the man marveled. "One of the few nonhumans from the myths we never found, no matter how many worlds we explored. At this point, pretty much everyone thinks you are a myth. The myth of myths. Like the Grim Reaper or Atlantis. But you were right under our noses. In the background of history, on the cover of kids' books."
Keep talking, Kiara thought. The trembles calmed down as the cold reigned supreme in her body. Confident, arrogant. Chipping away at the remaining flame, like a cat toying with a mouse.
She focused on that tiny fire.
"Kiara the Firebird... Who could've thought?" the man mused. "That's how it all started, you know. I was too old when those books came out, of course. But I had nieces and nephews who wouldn't stop talking about them. One thing led to another and I found myself researching the legend. It captivated me."
"My immortality did, you mean."
"Indeed," he said with a smile in his voice.
"And you think you can reproduce it? Syphon it?"
"You sound so skeptical – but I assure you I will find a way. Science will find a way. Like it did with the inhibitor. Or this work of art." The robot tapped at its temple.
She looked at it confused.
"A mind extracted from a dead brain, digitalized and put into a new body. With all of its old memories and skills intact. Perfect reconstruction."
For a moment, Kiara lost hold of her fire. "You… took Tiara's brain?"
"And not just hers. We needed a lot of material for our research. Cost us a fortune, honestly; damn coroners kept raising the price… But I'd say it paid it off. For me, at least."
"Let me guess, that also was for immortality."
"Not only. The mind is a great mystery on its own. The Institute has been trying to crack this nut for decades. As you can see, we've made significant progress. But the end result… let's just say, it was unsatisfactory. The project was scraped but the brains remained. Getting rid of them would've been a waste. So, some kept on tinkering with the memories of the dead. And I just so happened to stumble upon your secret in Tiara's mind."
"And then you made her into a puppet that would obey your every word…"
Kiara studied the robot's face. Was there a frown? Could the lips be twisted, even a little? She looked and looked, hoping to find some kind of sign there was still anything left of her niece. But all she saw was a machine ruled by data. Emotionless and soulless.
A mockery.
Something stirred in her. Something old, faded. Weak, like her inner flame. Yet it added to that fire, blew it out.
She smiled.
"That is an odd face you are making," the man said.
"I just remembered what it's like to hate someone. I suppose I should thank you… and I think I know how."
"How?" the voice asked a little strained but not exactly concerned.
Of course, his faith in the inhibitor was absolute. But whether it was magic or science, it was still just poison. A taint that could be purged. And there had never been a cold strong enough to withstand her flames.
Her unbridled, wild flames.
She let them loose.
The fire evaporated the invading cold in an instance and Kiara looked up, eyes burning. The robot's face betrayed no emotion. The flames were only breaking out of her when it threw its hand forward. But the needle melted as it was extending. The fake skin was next, then the metallic fingers. Before the flames consumed the entire hand, the robot jumped back. It turned over the table and rushed outside, tearing the door off its hinges.
The flames scattered along the floor, climbed up the walls and to the ceiling. Teal shapes clad in crimson. Brilliant and vibrant as ever. They prowled, searching for an enemy, a prey, and Kiara had to rein them in. The flames pulled back, leaving no mark, scorched or otherwise; she had long since taught them what they could burn.
Kiara stood up, fire swirling around her. Plain knitted clothes disappeared, replaced with charcoal black armor. A claymore lay in her hand and she rested the blade on her shoulder. She cast a single glance at the floor, at the remains of the cake, the shattered cups and dishes, then chased after the enemy.
But the fake didn't run or hide. It stood at the well and studied Kiara's armor and sword. A slow, sharp gaze went from head to toe, slid over the blade. No doubt recording and storing every detail on some server on the other side of the world. So engrossed that it wouldn't move even as she ran up to it and drew back her sword.
Only then, a mere moment before the swing, the fake ducked. The claymore passed above the well cutting through the pulley's supports and struck down. The fake rolled away. Kiara followed, as the pulley collapsed behind them. She lunged and swung giving her opponent no reprieve, yet the blade kept missing its prey. Just barely but without fail, the robot would avoid all of her attacks, making her spin around in some mad dance.
Kiara kept her distance, relying on the length of her sword. Cautious of any surprises hiding within this seemingly ordinary body. Any other weapons, beside the dreadful poison. But she couldn't afford to drag out the fight, with the fire inside her burning so wildly. And though she didn't know if it truly could burn itself out, she wanted to break this mockery of her niece before she had to find out.
Her flurries grew more relentless. The fake's clothes ripped, half of the braid flew off. Pushed back, the robot would press on and get closer each time. Making Kiara realize who was actually on the offence. She felt a prickle of shame, followed by a stab of anger. Then fire swallowed both. Whether it was the progress that had come so far or her skill that had fallen behind, she couldn't win with her sword alone.
Flame coated the blade and Kiara swung wide. A crimson wave hit the robot just as it jumped back. It faltered consumed by fire. Clothes ablaze, skin rapidly melting, any resemblance to her niece stripped away. Yet the cursed machine still stood. Not wasting a moment, she leaped forward with a swift slash. For the claymore, the metal body was but butter. Cut in half, the robot fell to the ground, and she drove her sword through its head. The fire lashed out at what steel missed.
Do not stop. Rage, rage, rage, she commanded. Whatever price there was she would pay it. There just couldn't be anything left of this mockery.
Something hit her neck and once more cold ripped into her inner flame. The fire on her sword disappeared. Her knees buckled and she stumbled and rolled behind a tree. Leaning against it, she pulled the thing out of her neck; it was a dart. She growled mustering all her anger and threw it into the flames. The cold was pushed back. She stood up firmly but the poison lingered and the fire wouldn't come no matter how much she called.
I need stronger flame… stronger kindling… but…
In the corner of her eye, the ground sank. A small part, as if from a step. She swung her claymore and hit nothing. More prints appeared. She watched them hacking and slashing at air while staying behind the trees. The mud kept squishing and sinking as the invisible enemy rolled away, yet not even a speck of dirt stuck to them.
The shooter fired again, bullets this time. Kiara felt tiny bursts released with each round and dodged some. A few hit her legs, grazed the arms. They bounced off the armor, though the impact still shook her. A nuisance, if anything else, messing with her swings. But finally the blade found its prey.
There was only a slight resistance, then something fell on the ground and that spot blurred and revealed a severed hand. The sleeve had a camouflage pattern. From under it, a bracelet peeked out, with runes scattered over the silver surface.
Then a person appeared out of thin air. A slender figure in camouflage, missing one hand and any semblance of a weapon. It had an all too familiar face, framed by white hair. A pair of dark yellow eyes stared back blankly, not a sign of hostility. It made perfect sense and yet it still caught Kiara by surprise.
Another fake lunged its hand at Kiara's face, the needle already extending. Kiara grabbed the hand and aimed the claymore at the robot's side when the needle spat poison. Cold bit into her eye and she swallowed her cry turning it into a hiss. For a split second, her grip loosened. The robot broke away and dodged the blade, then struck her neck injecting more poison. Growling, she pushed it away – only to stagger and lean on her sword before she could fall over. Invigorated, the cold was devouring her flames, her strength.
The fake rushed in and she swung her sword, yet failed to lift it. The fake simply stepped away as the blade brushed against the ground, then grabbed her hand and twisted it. The claymore fell down and Kiara soon followed, face into the mud, with the robot sitting on top of her. She tried pushing it off but even if her hands weren't pinned down... her arms, her legs, her flames… everything was giving in…
Blood freezing in her veins, consciousness slipping away, she reached deep within, for every last ember, no matter how big or small, and gathered them together. Into a bigger, stronger fire that she kept building up and up. To burn bright and strong… to burn away…
The flames clashed with the cold, roared and push on. They swept through the body and then lashed out at the fake Tiara. The robot was consumed in an instance. In the next, it burst apart. But the flames rendered the blast null. The heat, the force – they devoured it all.
Slipping and cursing, Kiara managed to sit up. Her body was still trembling, weak. Unlike the flames around her. They were a wild whirlwind, as if with a mind of their own, caring for nothing. A dart flew at her, only to be swept away as the flames kept on dancing and slowly shifting. Forming two ensembles of red, blue and green. Two vibrant wings.
Kiara picked up the claymore, leaned on it and pulled herself up.
The wings vanished just when she got on her feet. Like a candle snuffed out. Then the sword broke into sparks that cascaded over the ground. She fell on her knees and her armor broke apart too. Back in her clothes, covered in mud, shuddering. Just a mortal. She chuckled bitterly.
So, after years of saving her power, it only went this far…
"Pathetic…" Kiara breathed out.
"Certainly not," said that annoyingly confident voice.
A new fake approached, also dressed in camouflage. It was holding a dart gun while an assault rifle hung on its back. Another one… and who knows how many more still hiding. Looking at her through the scope, perhaps.
The man continued as his puppet clapped unenthusiastically, "This was an impressive display. No mythic could produce such a brilliant fire after one dose of the inhibitor, let alone three. And the way your flames change… Shame you ran out of juice when it was just getting interesting. But I guess I can't complain, being down to only one unit."
The robot crouched and put down the dart gun. Was this a provocation? Kiara found enough strength to smirk. Like that mattered now…
"What's so funny? Do you think you can still fight your way out of this?"
"No, no. I'm done fighting. You won. Congrats, you beat a weak old granny."
"I did, didn't I?" the man muttered with a note of suspicion. "But… it will still be a while till I have my true prize. It will take a lot of research and testing, a lot of cutting… Maybe you could save us both the pain?"
"What, you think I can somehow share my immortality with others?" Kiara chuckled. "I tried… Oh, child, I did. And others… others tried too. They hoped, and asked, and begged, and forced me… It doesn't work. These flames are meant only for me," she whispered at the end.
Her body was slumping and she had to make an effort to keep it from folding down. Though at this point she wasn't even sure why.
"We will see," the man said. "Sixty years ago, nobody believed that gateways to other worlds could be built. That mythics existed. But the Birdway sisters and their team made the impossible possible. In time. I plan to do the same. I will bring life to its pinnacle and break the shackles of mortality."
She wished she could shake her head. Foolish, foolish child.
"You look like you want to argue. Please, by all means," he scoffed.
Oh, there was a great many things Kiara could've told him. About immortality and its plights. The weight of time. The numbing boredom. She could've painted a gruesome picture of people seeking excitement in pain and cruelty. Or called to his reason, reminding how much they already had. Potions, spells, special procedures – all the ways to extend your life and remain young. Wasn't this enough?
She could've gone on and on about how life needed struggle. How it needed adversity. Otherwise, what would people have to fight for? What reason would they have to get off their asses and… just do something? Anything? Hunger, health, mortality – take all these drives away and eventually people would lose motivation, interest, start putting things off. They were already wasting what little time they had. Without any pressing deadlines, they would be wandering aimlessly, their will and joy grinded to dust.
Or she could've simply asked how much he was planning to charge for immortality. Who would even be worthy of it?
Indeed, she could've… but there was no point. And her eyes were getting so, so heavy…
"Finally getting sleepy, huh? Don't worry that's how it usually is with the inhibitor," the voice explained, as if coming from far away. "We will continue this after we meet. I've already prepared a room for you. And an operating table."
She managed to smile and uttered a single, "No."
"No?" the man asked surprised. "So you still want to fight…"
Kiara kept on smiling. "No."
There was a moment of complete stillness, then the fake reached out to her. It was just one little touch, but she started falling back. The robot caught her. "Check the pulse," the man commanded and it did so. He cursed. "Ara 3, get to the target immediately!"
Kiara paid no mind to the voice barking out orders. Whatever they were going to do, it would all be useless. Nothing could light these cinders anew. So, she looked at the blank face and smiled. It wasn't a smile of triumph to mock her enemy – but a sad smile for the girl she had loved like her own family.
"I am sorry, little bird," she said so quietly she wasn't even sure she spoke at all.
And yet something flashed in those blank eyes. The fake's lips twitched. Kiara tried to focus, to see clearly if that wasn't a trick of her mind. But her eyes were already closing.
Then the world faded to black.