Pasquinelli/Rise 465

Jon’s stomach gave an almighty lurch as they plummeted down. Ray seemed for a moment as if she was trying to break free of Jon’s grasp, but was still using all her arm power to hold him to her as she forced their bodies as horizontal as possible, and the flexing wings pressed against Jon’s chest made it clear that she was trying to fly.

With wind howling in his ears and the ground below getting larger by the nanosecond, Jon held tight to Ray’s newly muscled back.

“Fly!” he yelled as loud as he could.

“I’m TRYING!”

Ray squirmed one last time as Jon could begin to make out individual pieces of the chair they’d hurled out the window. Ray noticed it too, but they kept falling faster and faster. She screamed and Jon shut his eyes and heard the Timeline humming again, but for some reason, they weren’t falling so fast. In fact, Jon’s head felt like it might pop with the G forces pressing on him as they began to ascend. Ray must have righted her wings because they were definitely flying now, and the ground was less than twenty feet below them. They cleared the grassy cliffs of the castle grounds and soared over a beach that looked like it was very, very far down.

Ray started laughing, but not her usual booming laugh, but a more almost hysterical laugh. She was clearly surprised that they were not dead.

“Nice job!” said Jon, with his breath now caught up to his breathing again.

“Thanks! I ... I dunno how I did it, actually!”

Jon’s legs dangled on either side of Rays, and he only now realized what an awkward position he was in, at least from an onlooker’s perspective. They kept flying straight, over the ocean.

“Ray, turn back!”

“Oh yeah, right!”

She pivoted and her left wing went up higher, and the right one lower than the rest of her body. They swung a big arch in the air, and just as they were coming up on the shore again, Ray told Jon to hold on. She then executed a steep dive, and Jon began to yell, but Ray pulled up out of it in a flash, and up and up they went, far higher than they had been a few seconds ago.

“I needed an updraft to get more height, or we’d never make it to the city borders!”

“Oh! Right!”

Only now did Jon look back over the ocean as they neared the cliffs. It seemed so massive; it was much like the Pacific back home, but quite a bit different in color. The deep blue sky made the ocean look all the more aqua-green next to it, and several miles south, Jon could make out the even higher cliffs where the Gate was, nestled in the forest. Jon’s heart ached for Oak Tree and the normal life he left behind, and his friends and family that were on the other side who hadn’t the faintest notion of what he was doing. Ray didn’t seem to care, though -- she was beaming widely as ever, watching the castle slide under them.

Jon squinted ahead to the edge of the city -- there was a mass of small moving people just outside the city walls. They seemed to be headed for a large open field right outside the city gates before the forest. His heart leapt at a different group of people, closer to the forest. They seemed to be in all grey, but what Jon was more concerned about was their sheer numbers. The grey group was clearly smaller.

“Look!” shouted Jon as he risked the imbalance to point a finger at the two groups. He couldn’t point more than a second though, as his position on Ray was so unstable.

“Don’t worry! We’ll be there in a sec!” Ray yelled, still gazing down as the city passed under them. Various shaped buildings blotted the sweeping green landscape, and the High Street was easily discernible as a continuous wavy line of similarly shaped buildings. Also, there was very little Green on the High street; it’s continuous line of buildings made it stand out. Even at this early hour, the city still gleamed, and the air was cool and clean.

About two thirds of the way to the city walls, Jon saw the mass of people crowded in a large intersection, still dissembled. The strange part was that they were not moving at all. They seemed to be purposely stopped there, but Jon didn’t have time to panic about that now. He had other problems.

Jon’s arms were beginning to ache, and Ray with her wings was not the most comfortable thing to be riding. After ten minutes of flying, they started to descend rapidly. They were only a few blocks from the city gates. Ray steered them to land on High Street.

Their landing was just as easy as their take-off. Ray crashed into a hedge and Jon tumbled on top of her. The massive wings shrank back and disappeared and Ray stood up, coughing.

“Was that supposed to be a landing?” Jon said, pushing himself up by his knees and brushing off small particles of dirt and leaves from his cloak. His right side hurt; at the very least he knew which part of his body broke the fall.

“Well excuse me. Next time you sprout wings from your back and carry a hundred and fifty pounds of dead weight in the air for a while, I’ll take notes on how you land.” She started to pat down her tangled hair. “Thank god for this jumpsuit. And just be glad I actually hit something soft.”

“You call that soft?”

“Shut up.”

Jon stopped brushing himself off and stared at the gate to Norea, which was only a few blocks from them. He stood very still, gazing at them. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Just that...nothing.” The only thing that Jon heard was the sounds the two of them were making. It was eerie. The crowd up the High Street was a good two miles from them. They were an indistinct blur from where they stood.

“Ray, come on,” Jon pulled Ray’s arm from her hair and dragged her behind him into a run to the city gates. Ray wrenched her arm free and matched his run. It was then that Jon actually heard something real other than their footfalls. It was a creaking, groaning sound. The gates were slowly beginning to shut.

“What are they doing?!” Ray yelled out, breathless.

“They must be trying to keep us in!”

“Or keep them out!”

The gates to the city were massive, and it would be impossible to try and get them open on their own. The castle gates were half the size, and even they would barely open with a full person’s strength. They were closing too quickly. Jon and Ray would not make it through. The opening between the doors was only a few feet wide now, and the sliver of the field was shrinking smaller and smaller. Jon thought fast -- if he used TimeStream again on the doors, he’d weaken the one of the city’s few defenses against attack or invasion ... he could probably use the other side of his powers to keep the door open. They were thirty feet from it at most.

Jon grunted as he hurled fireball after fireball, like baseballs from each hand, at the doors, firing blindly and hoping he’d hit them evenly. It was working; the mini explosions were slowing the doors.

Ray thrust herself sideways through the opening in the doors and Jon was right behind her, and stopped firing. Jon launched himself through the gate face-first, and through his peripheral vision, saw the two slabs of wood fly by him, but he was abruptly stopped so hard that he was almost brought upright to a standing position again, but toppled over again, tangled in his robes. He looked at the newly closed gate -- the hem of his robe was caught in the gate.

Ray came back to him and held an exceptionally long blade in her hand. She swiped at the hem and Jon was freed. Ray’s blade turned out to be her hand. “Come on.” She started off at a run again, the blade shrinking and becoming her hand once again. Jon looked back at the closed gate. It was completely undamaged. He ran and caught up to Ray.

It didn’t take long to get where they wanted to be. The Pavilion they saw from the sky was only a few hundred yards from the city walls. They rose up a slope, and at the top were all of the Norean Forces, dressed in various colors and grouped together. They were in four lines, and a few hundred abreast. They were all listening to something straight ahead.

Ray stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of the awesome spectacle. Jon did the same, because aside from gawking, he wanted to be certain they weren’t seen just yet. What if the Empress had ordered her guards to detain them if they appeared on the battlefield? But no one was really paying attention to Jon and Ray. A voice, however, could clearly be heard over the helmeted army.

“You will stand your ground; the people of this city are depending on you. I am depending on you.” The Empress’ voice bellowed across the Pavilion, much as it did when she made the announcement from the balcony of the castle. “The enemy is approaching quickly. We aim to incapacitate, not kill.” The crowd murmured with disagreement, but the Empress was undaunted, or at least she sounded undaunted. “I am trying to avoid as much bloodshed and death as possible. This is still our city, our country. We will not be beaten.” Her voice grew louder not by volume, but by proximity. She was trotting through the ranks on her snow white horse. The men and women in the Forces began to part at the middle of the line to let her through. Jon and Ray edged alongside the line to stay out of her sight.

“Our city will not be taken. Our ranks will not fail.” She was getting closer and closer. Jon pulled Ray and they stumbled over a few feet behind the steep part of the slope and crouched down. They could hear the Empress moving through the grass. “They fear us,” she said, delicately emphasizing particular words. “We outnumber them and they are surprised and rattled by this. They did not expect us to be so prepared. So now they wait! While their leader decides what to do, because now he knows -- THEIR END IS NEAR!” She said the final words with such a force Jon had never heard before that it gave him chills. The Empress held position at the back of the ranks.

After a few seconds, the Empress then said quietly “Attention,” and all sounds from the Forces were vanquished. It sounded like a command rather than a request for mental presence. Then Jon and Ray heard another pair of hooves. A black horse galloped to the Empress and a man was sitting atop it; he pulled it up next to the Empress’ horse.

“Empress,” he said in a deep voice.

“Report, Commander Bailey.”

“The Guild is moving again. They’ve formed ranks and are moving in our direction.”

“Time to intercept?”

“No more than ten minutes. They’re almost at the bottom of the valley.”

“Good. I’d rather them attack than stand there indefinitely.”

“There’s one more thing, highness.”

“Yes?”

“They are all wearing some sort of ... device over their eyes.”

“What?” said Jotea in a hush, sounding mildly intrigued.

“Yes, your highness. We’re not sure what they do, but they’re all wearing them.”

There was a pause and the Empress broke it by saying, “I can’t see what they’re for. Ignus must have a powerful mental mage with him, as expected.”

“Your orders?”

“We stand. We will cross whatever bridge we face when we get to it. Report back to your post. I will remain here for the time being. We are on the defensive for the moment. We do not fire first. Understand?”

“Yes, Empress.” Commander Bailey set off at a fast trot back around the same way he came, yelling orders inaudibly. The Empress was on the same spot and hadn’t moved. She looked tall next to the hundreds of Force soldiers next to her. Jon couldn’t help notice how stunning she looked atop her horse, even now. Ray nudged him in the side.

“Let’s go.”

“What? Where?” Jon whispered.

“To the front. Duh.”

“How come?”

“So we know what’s going on!” she hissed. “How do you expect to beat him if you don’t know what’s happening.”

“Oh yeah.”

Without another word, they crouched down and began shuffling around the long lines, keeping a safe distance. But the more Jon thought about it, the worse the idea of trying to sneak around an entire army when they were about to go into battle seemed.

“This is a bad idea. Follow my lead.” Jon stood straight up and walked very casually toward the line of soldiers closest to him.

“What are you doing?” said Ray.

“Follow me!” Jon said under his breath.

She growled, but stood up and walked right behind him. He heard her say something that sounded suspiciously like, “Insane.”

The Force soldiers took notice of them as they got within five feet of them.

“Excuse me, sir, miss, you can’t be here. You must return to the city.”

“Thanks for your concern, soldier, but we’ve been ordered to the front.”

“You’ve been ordered to Alpha Line? With no weapons?” said the soldier, surveying them.

“Yes,” Jon said firmly. “If you wish to question the Empress’ orders, please feel free. She’s only a few yards back that way.” Jon stopped walking, and extended an arm, indicating the general direction of where the Empress stood. He’d seen her power play before, and he knew to stand his ground rather than cower or appear to back down. So Jon stood very close to the soldier and stared at him directly in the eyes.

“Just checking, sir,” the soldier said quickly.

Jon didn’t respond, but abruptly turned from him and continued past the rows of multi-colored soldiers to the front. Finally, Jon and Ray past the Alpha Line and could see that they were at the top of a long sloping hill that stretched out toward the forest on one end, and on the other, a long expansive pavilion, with a blemish on the landscape. A mass of charcoal gray-cloaked figures was marching toward them. They must have been about a quarter of a mile away, but even from that distance, Jon could just make out the strange visors they wore over their eyes. He had an ominous feeling about those visors, but he couldn’t very well go up to a Guild member and ask them what they were for.

Jon and Ray held position at the front line, just at the end of the soldier’s ranks. Peering down to his far right, Jon could see Commander Bailey on his black horse with an off white uniform starkly contrasting it. He looked back at the mass of gray marching onto the Strell Pavilion. Their faces were inscrutable, but their purpose seemed crystal-clear -- destruction, or at least, domination. But the Norean Force was still far more impressive. They were more organized, stood at attention, and were far many more than the Onyx Guild. Jon also saw that some of the soldiers closest to him all had large rifles and several of them seemed to be gripping theirs rather tightly.

After a few minutes, Commander Bailey came galloping up the line toward Jon and Ray. They took a few surreptitious steps backward to hide themselves without being conspicuous. But the Commander didn’t ride close enough to see them.

“You have your orders! We do not fire first, but engage the enemy when they attack. Siphons, stunners, whatever is necessary to keep them out of the city and away from our citizens!”

He galloped back toward the center of the lines, calling out the same thing. All the soldiers placed their rifles diagonally across their chest, barrels pointed up to the sky. The Guild was only a few hundred yards away.

They group of Guild members grew perceptively larger as they got closer. Jon could make out individual faces (aside from the strange eye covers), and there he was, at the center of the mass, a gap of five feet separated Ignus from the other Guild members. He was half smiling, and Jon could see that he wasn’t wearing anything over his eyes, though he might have been for how black and lightless they were. His robes also stood out from the rest and Jon could just make out the blood red phoenix outline on his chest. Jon squinted and suddenly, he could see Ignus as if he were standing two feet away from him. The grin was more of a sneer. He looked to some of the other members.

The Empress was wrong: they weren’t afraid and they didn’t look confused or taken by surprise. They already knew.

Their marching didn’t cease. Jon was getting nervous now. If they already knew that the Norean army would meet them, what else could they already know?

Jon shook his head and the magnification went away.

“I wish you’d stop that,” Ray said.

“Huh?”

“That weird eye thing you do. It’s creepy.”

“Next time I’ll just sprout wings.” He smiled at Ray. She didn’t return it.

“It makes you look like him when you do it.” Ray looked right into his eyes. “I’m serious, Jon.”

They locked eyes for a good long time. Her eyes showed an emotion Jon did not often see in Ray. “You’re afraid, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I am too.”

Ray grabbed his forearm and squeezed it, then let go. She turned back to the oncoming army and a different kind of moment passed between them. A bond had formed in that moment, and Jon silently agreed to look out for her with every fiber of his being, as she had done for him.

A great noise broke their moment. The Guild members were charging up the slope, yelling and hollering, several of them brandishing small hand pistols.

The Norean Forces braced themselves a step backward. A barrage of blue rays fired out from the Guild and dozens of the soldiers from the Alpha Line fell, and from the way some of them screamed when they fell, it didn’t sound like they were just being stunned.

“FIRE!” came a deep call from down the ranks. The Alpha line all pointed their weapons at the charging onslaught. The Guild was still firing at random, but a larger portion of their army remained at the bottom of the hill, with Ignus. He still looked smug, standing there with a hundred other mages. One was dressed in all red, standing next to Ignus. Jon figured it was probably his first commander, for she kept whispering to Ignus. Only a few soldiers to the right of Jon, one fell, then another. Jon heard Ray gasp.

Jon pulled her backward a few steps as the Alpha Line began to dwindle, and Pimicron blasts were getting nearer, and several of them drew long curved blades from holsters on their backs, pointing the tips outward in front of them.

Some of the periphery Guild members were being picked off one by one, enough so that they didn’t pose too much of a threat. But there weren’t enough Pimicron blasters on the Norean Side -- the Guild finally reached the outer line and began hacking and firing at anyone they could reach.

Someone yelled, “Beta, attack!”

The soldiers who hadn’t drawn their own blades and begun to fight gave way to the second line. They began to take the glittering Siphons (which Jon still didn’t know what they were) from their belts and hurl them at the onslaught. They made the most beautiful sound and sight when released, flying through the air, but they certainly got the job done -- the Guild members toppled over, unconscious in threes and fours per Siphon. By this time, everyone was fighting now -- except Jon and Ray. They were keeping themselves out of the line of fire -- inkling away when anyone got too close.

Even without Jon and Ray, things were going well regardless. The first wave of Guild members had been totally quelled, and the ranks of the Norean army was reforming. Even with the many gaps in the Alpha and Beta Lines, the Norean Force was completely regrouped and at attack-ready stance in a matter of seconds. Jon smiled to himself. There were maybe a hundred Guild members left plus Ignus, and still several hundred Norean Force soldiers. The Onyx Guild was going to lose. Or at least, that’s what Jon thought.

Ignus, who the whole time had done little else than listen to his right-hand man, was not looking directly at the Norean Lines. Jon and Ray were still off to the side, away from everyone’s attention. Now it appeared to be Ignus’ turn. He began to float above his remaining army, with a black and purple aura under him, and all was silent; everyone stopped, and in fear or awe -- Jon couldn’t tell which. Then plumes of dark and violet fire erupted from his eyes and now open mouth. They struck the remaining Alpha Line and at first appeared to engulf the retreating soldiers, but when the flames moved from side to side, Jon was disgusted and horror-struck to see merely ashes blowing about -- the soldiers were being incinerated.

“Oh my god, oh my god, this is awful!” Ray said. She pulled Jon down to the ground, and the yells and screams returned again, this time far more desperate and stomach turning. Stun-rays shot through at Ignus, but he deflected them with little effort. Jon took his eyes off the battle and put his head down; Ray was doing the same. Somehow Jon knew that a similar experience when he and Ignus met would occur if he tried to use his fire shield. It would probably be useless. Jon poked his head up enough to see if he could aim a well-directed spurt of his own fire at Ignus, but suddenly the jets of black fire seemed to crash upon an invisible wall and spread out in a flat circle.

About fifty paces down, the Empress parted the soldiers and stood with her arms up, stopping the attack.

Ignus’ face returned to normal as the fire flow stopped, though he still floated in midair, a few feet higher than the Empress stood. They were less than a hundred feet apart, glaring one another down. Ignus’ face was inscrutable, but the Empress’ was uncharacteristically emotional: her eyebrows were fused together, her eyes were wide and her jaw was clenched. To say she looked angry was like saying Ignus was a bully. She kept her hands up and stared at Ignus, who for a brief moment, looked like a scolded dog about to tuck his tail between his legs and retreat. But it was fleeting because in the blink of an eye, his arms thrust out in front of him, and a thick concentrated ray of black energy shot at the Empress much faster than any black fire. It was the same attack Ignus used that pierced Jon’s shoulder back in the Frost all those hours ago. But this looked far larger and powerful than the one that Jon was struck with.

It completely engulfed the Empress, and for a horrifying moment, Jon thought she was going to be incinerated like the soldiers were. But the dark ray was quelled slightly, and the Empress was still standing, completely whole, concentrating hard. The ground began to rumble and vibrate as the Empress willed the dark energy away from her. It was two feet from the tips of her fingers and continuing to retreat when she bent one of her knees, and pushed hard off the ground with that leg, in a thrusting motion toward Ignus. The ground thundered hard as the dark ray was rebounded upon its caster.

The sky around Ignus and the Guild army flashed in a violet light. Each Guild member toppled over from the force of the beam, but Ignus disappeared, leaving behind only a dark streak of black flame in the sky. The Empress stood, undamaged on the same spot. Her demeanor was calm again, but the crater in which she now stood suggested a quiet fury had been unleashed. She cocked an eyebrow slightly and stared up into the sky where Ignus disappeared. The Guild members were all getting up and forming ranks again, which actually surprised Jon -- he thought they’d retreat, and rip off those silly eye clips (which, by the way, they were all still wearing). They certainly didn’t give them clairvoyance to their eminent defeat.

The Norean soldiers righted themselves and Jon pulled Ray back up to a standing position.

“I’m fine!” she said, and brushed the grass off her.

“Not all of us are.” Jon saw the soldiers glance down at the besotted grass... remnants of their fallen comrades. Some were down but could not stand up again. Commander Bailey rode the flanks and shouted for everyone to stand ground. The Empress had disappeared from view to the back lines. For a solid minute they stood there, not as much in silence this time. The heartbeat of whispers could be heard over the commander’s yells.

“What do we do now? He’s up there somewhere. We can’t fly up there.”

“We could if you had better wings,” Jon said, and smiled at her. Ray simply wrinkled her nose at Jon. Jon, on the other hand, was feeling woefully inadequate. The other soldiers had already fought. And what had he and Ray done? Ducked and hid. It was that moment when Jon was beginning to contemplate giving up and suggesting he and Ray wait with the second wave of the Norean attack force just inside the gates when something highly unusual and rather frightening happened. The world suddenly went pitch black. All light had vanished from sight. There was immediate panic and Jon could hear heavy, frightened footfalls on the ground and people yelling out.

“What happened?” said Ray’s disembodied voice.

“I don’t know! Where are you?” Jon put his hands out in front of him, and noticed that he couldn’t even see them. He swung wildly, but connected with nothing.

“Jon?” came Ray’s voice again, but it was farther away than just a moment ago. The soldiers were stumbling about too, apparently all blind, and worse yet, in the chaos, separating Jon and Ray from each other.

“Ray!” Jon shouted, but none could hear him, for now, he heard something besides the yells and shuffling. Charges and blasters were being fired. He could hear whooshes, air rushes and zaps all around him but couldn’t see any of them. Now it was plain what those strange looking goggles were -- they could see through the black haze, and they were firing on anyone who couldn’t see. Jon instinctively ducked low to the ground again, hoping Ray was doing the same. Twice he saw two circular flashes of white light that were sucked back into the darkness. Apparently someone was trying to use a Charge to get light back to the Strell Pavilion.

“Ray? RAY!” Jon bellowed, but there came no answer. Jon started to panic, his breath coming in shallow, short intakes. “Calm down,” he said to himself in the grass. “What is going on.” He figured that Ignus’ departure and the sun’s were probably linked. But he needed to see where he was.

“I need those -- EAGLE’S EYES!”

Jon blinked hard and when he re-opened his eyes, he had turned on some sort of infrared vision, but the figures were glowing white instead of crimson. The world seemed to make sense again -- he could see that figures corresponded to the sounds they made. But what were worse were the figures moving toward the mass of unorganized, chaotic soldiers.

Guild members were walking up the hill, firing Charges and Siphons at the Norean army with gusto, and there was no one who could see where to fire back. Norean Forces were dropping like flies and Jon was still crouched down on the floor.

No, Jon thought. This is not how I’m going to let it finish. He stood up and faced the oncoming Guild -- some of whom were already amongst the Norean Forces, killing left and right. Jon activated a fireball in his hand, and to his surprise, it glowed red, orange and yellow, not white like everything else. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one to notice this, because two of the Guild members turned their heads his way and made to intercept. Jon wasn’t going to wait; they’d kill him if they could.

He flung his fireball at the oncoming, larger Guild member. He doubled over, and Jon generated and threw another one at him, and he collapsed. But the other was still directly approaching, and fast. Jon was about to hurl another one at that person, but she was too quick for Jon -- she motioned like she was throwing something at Jon, and less than half a second later, he was knocked far backward, off his feet. He skidded flat on his back and quickly got back up. It was strange though -- his backside hurt from skidding so far, but the force that hit him on his whole front side didn’t seem to hurt. Jon looked down at his arm, and could see something strange happen to it, even through his limited vision. It was hard to the touch and looked different than the under side of his arm. But it was slowly healing itself.

Then Jon was hit again, this time from the side. He was again knocked off balance, and landed flat on his side, and this time, the whole left side of his face felt stiff and he couldn’t move it, as if someone had put a plaster cast on the right side of his face. That, and his right arm was completely rigid. He couldn’t move it at all. Jon closed his left hand around his right bicep -- it was cold and hard -- rock-like.... He was being turned to stone.

Just as the Guild member swung her right arm, Jon crisscrossed his arms over his chest, and the fire shield went up instantly, but it wasn’t up for very long -- it collapsed under the weight of the Charge, but Jon was undamaged this time. He had only seconds to decide -- run? Or fight? Then he remembered the attack Ignus performed, the streak of fire. Jon had once done something similar to that, but stationary...the torch in the Hall of Records. The woman swung again, and Jon lunged to the side and rolled on the ground, but as he did, he generated another fireball, and as he scrambled up on one hand, focused the fire to a small point. “Come on...give me a FireStreak....” It stabilized, and he fired it as a continuous stream at the woman. It didn’t hit her, so Jon adjusted the trajectory until it collided in her side. She screamed in pain and fell over, writhing.

Jon half smiled, half-pleased that she was in agony. He knew he shouldn’t have reveled in her pain, but he didn’t accidentally kill her like Gar. Jon then looked around the Pavilion. He was now about a hundred feet from the battle, which didn’t seem to be going well. He couldn’t tell who was who anymore, and hoped the Empress was doing magnificently, and Ray was surely holding her own. He needed to level out the playing field again. He turned up to the sky to see where the sun had gone. Apparently, it hadn’t gone anywhere. There was a giant, roiling black form in the sky, blocking out the sun. It looked like rippling, wavy airborne motor oil. He needed to get up there and destroy or disperse it. He was sure Ignus was responsible somehow, but how to get up to him? You need to fly, a voice told him.

“How?” He answered out loud. But then he remembered that Ignus did it -- he was flying at this very moment, in fact. So, in theory, so could Jon. He lifted his arms, so he looked like a letter T and willed himself to fly. His feet responded by remaining firmly planted on the grass. Ignus did it. So can I.

Jon wasn’t quite sure why, but he began to run. He knew this could be treacherous on an uneven plane with limited vision, but he ran anyway. Something was driving him to move fast. So he ran, further away from the horrible battle, down the hill the Guild members just charged up. But his footfalls down the slope became lighter with each step, instead of heavier. Before he reached the bottom, he was completely airborne and his legs were not dangling like he thought they should be, but seemed very firmly in place, together and rigid. He looked down and saw a tail of fire holding him in the air -- he was gliding down a few feet from the Pavilion’s grass. Leaning left, he found he could steer himself, and raising his arms back to the T position gave him altitude. He rotated his hands to face out from him, and he stopped, dead in his tracks and floated in precisely the same position. Bringing his palms and arms down, he could descend. Finally, his powers were becoming more intuitive and responsive. Even if he was an expert flyer, that dark expanse was massive. There’d be no flying around it. That left one other option.

Jon brought his arms up over his head and looked up -- he was flying up at the mass as fast as he could, which was actually causing his eyes to water. The roiling mass got bigger and bigger, and soon Jon realized what the substance was -- black Eternal Fire. Jon came to within thirty feet of it when he was blasted with a heat so intense, he passed out for a second. He was falling fast now, so he put his hands back over his head, and the fire under him re-ignited and he shot upward again. He made sure to stop clear of the super heat threshold. Floating for a few seconds, he thought of the only thing he could use to get through it.

“Shield,” Jon commanded. His fire bubble went up all around him, and his vision returned to normal -- his fire was red, yellow and orange again, and his limbs and clothing were colored as they always were. He couldn’t see through his bubble of fire, but he knew which way was up.

He thrust upward with his arms and shot up. The heat returned and was burning white hot, but Jon kept on. The shield faltered and dissolved after a few seconds, exposing Jon to more pain than he’d ever been in his entire life. His skin, hair and eyes were on fire. Fortunately, it lasted only a few seconds -- the upward momentum he’d gained kept him going and he cleared the wall of fire. Jon quickly put his arms back up over his head to keep himself in flight lest he fall through the black death again. There were blistering burns all over his skin, but they were already healing themselves nicely. Blazing white sunlight burned his eyes for a moment, but the black firewall kept his focus downward. Jon found him almost immediately -- Ignus hovered two hundred feet away, with his arms pointed down, and a cone of Black Fire issuing from his body fueled the force field. Ignus hadn’t seen Jon for he had come up behind Ignus.

Jon considered stopping the Timeline like he did before, but he didn’t know what would happen if he did that -- would he stay in place or fall through the air?

“Screw it, direct approach.”

He lunged straight at him, and began generating a halo of his own Eternal Fire around him as he flew. Ignus turned his head and saw Jon when he was just a few feet away. Only Ignus’ head moved in reaction to Jon. It jerked up and down a few times, and with each movement, huge column of Black Fire shot up from the wall below and eventually all connected and created a flaming cocoon around Ignus. In the five seconds it took Ignus to generate the cocoon, Jon had slowed to a stop again, and cursed under his breath. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and mentally felt for the Timeline. He found it after a few seconds, humming slowly just below reality. I need you again, he thought. As if it was purring, Jon felt the Timeline buzz beneath him a little more loudly. He opened his eyes and at his fingertips was a ribbon of distorted-looking air, swishing about.

“I need two things, okay?” Jon said to the innocent ribbon. “I need you to erase enough of that fire from the Timeline to get me through, then I need some of that Timestream to kill him.” The ribbon kept swirling in his hand, placidly reflecting the blue from the sky, and the violet light from the fire underfoot.

“Right.” Jon cupped his left hand over his right, and the ribbon separated into two different ones. Jon then put on all speed toward the fiery cocoon. “Erasure!” Jon called and threw one of the ribbons at the cocoon.