Volume I of Legacy: the Ministry of Fire, Part 2
Chapter 11: The Chase

Copyright© 2022 by Uruks

I’ve never been very religious, but there has always been a small part of me that has wanted to be. Even so, I’ve come to believe that there is a greater power out there that is beyond my own. So, while I sat alone in my cell ... unable to comfort my wife ... unable to hold my children and dry their tears ... I started to pray for the first time in my life.

I wasn’t even sure who I was praying to. Humans had lost much of their concept of God, perhaps an unfortunate side-effect of scientific advancement. My father was religious, though I never felt as deeply about God as he did. Even so, in my most desperate hour, I prayed. I prayed for my family, for their happiness and wellbeing.

I even prayed for the sad and angry human race, whom I had all but lost hope for. I prayed that if they survived, they might finally learn from their mistakes and create a truly benevolent society, one which rewarded happiness to those who earned it instead of everyone just demanding unlimited and undeserved luxury. As I prayed, I wasn’t really expecting much, but surprisingly, someone heard me.

The alarm went off. Éclair started to seriously regret her decision to spare that pig, Gregory. It took a few hours, actually more than a few, but Lord Gregory’s wrath was inevitable. He probably took a look in her chambers and saw that he no longer had a victim to torment. Éclair knew that escaping the building before someone noticed her absence would’ve been a long shot, but she still felt frustrated nonetheless.

Before the alarm went off, Éclair moved stealthily through the building, slowly making her way to the lower levels. The trek proved tedious work while avoiding all the employees and security guards within the tower, but Éclair steadily drew closer to the base of the building. As long as she didn’t run into Galzar, she figured she’d be okay.

Now that the building went into lockdown, Éclair decided that speed took precedence over stealth. She sprinted down the corridor while the sirens blared, and red lights flashed off and on. As she came at a crossroads between corridors, Éclair heard the sound of guards coming her way. Thankfully, Éclair had stored her psionic bow and her arrows within herself before being captured, and she finally had enough stamina to withdraw them.

In a flash of snow and blue light, Éclair’s elegant weapon appeared in her hands. She had Thisimius design the bow to her specific tastes. One day, she hoped to craft her own when she became a Third, but for now, her current weapons would suffice.

The steel bow’s rim was fashioned with white, metal swan feathers jutting from it. Éclair could only grip the bow by the handle in the center as both ends of the bow had been fashioned into swords, allowing her to use the bow as a staff in close-quarters combat, just like any Elemental weapon.

Arching glowing blue symbols traced down the length of both blades, burning with heat close to a star thanks to Éclair’s psions. In place of a string was a line of white energy that only Éclair could touch, but burned all others. A slender quiver with depictions of swans appeared on Éclair’s belt. The arrows in the quiver had blue glowing feathers and white, crystal tips that emitted frost.

The quiver had been psionically spelled so that Éclair would never run out of ammunition. The quiver had a psionic technique woven into it so that whenever Éclair started running low on arrows, more would be automatically duplicated using synthesizing technology. Éclair’s own psions acted as the fuel source, so she could continue making arrows for herself so long as she had psions. She did occasionally have to ask Thisy to forge more arrows, or else the molecular template for the synthesizer would be stretched too thin after a while. However, she only had to restock every few months or so, meaning that if she had a steady supply of sun gems, she could fire arrows almost indefinitely while in battle. Éclair actually felt quite proud of the innovation, having thought of it herself.

Not many Elementals used bows and arrows since most naturally possessed long-range abilities. However, Éclair could take the ranged abilities of Elemency even further with sniping weapons, and when she aimed with her bow, her sensing abilities spiked, allowing her to guide the arrow to her target through her will alone. Plus, Éclair enjoyed the added bonus of shooting arrows imbued with Ice Elemency.

About fifty feet down at the other end of the hall, a column of a dozen guards came charging for Éclair. They got off a few shots of yellow energy bolts from their rifles, but Éclair simply sidestepped from right to left and avoided the projectiles with ease and grace. Her psionic ability increased her senses exponentially, allowing her to sense attacks coming and to react accordingly. If she were so inclined, she could’ve dodged the shots blindfolded.

Not wanting to let the security guards get any closer, Éclair notched a glowing blue arrow to her bow, pulled back, and released just like her godfather had taught her to do with a regular bow as a child. The arrow flew through the air in a tempest of ice, wind, and fog. Wherever the arrow went, the area around it became frozen in ice.

In this fashion, Éclair could deal with large groups of enemies with ease, for it didn’t matter if the arrow hit directly or not. If a person was even remotely close to the arrow’s path, they’d be frozen solid. Those that weren’t killed instantly became immobilized.

The arrow flew with the speed of a laser, hitting the lead guard in the leg and freezing the rest to the floor or to the walls, and in some cases, to each other. The hallway that had moments before been silver platinum transformed into a frozen tunnel of ice and shivering security guards. Éclair laughed slightly, feeling exhilarated to have some measure of power again.

Dashing as fast as the wind, Éclair ran down corridor after corridor. The building was so vast, almost like a labyrinth. Fortunately, Éclair sensed that it wasn’t quite as large as the Ministry of Fire, so it wouldn’t be long before she found an exit.

As Éclair crossed the threshold of a door, only to come into another endless corridor, she noticed movement above her. Eight automatic guns appeared from the floors, ceiling, and walls, two on each surface. They shot slugs of pencil-sized needles at her. The needles were so sharp that they buried themselves deep within the platinum floor where she had stood only moments before.

She barely managed to somersault out of the path of the endless shower of needles, and even then, a few still grazed her. Éclair knocked four arrows to her bow and took aim. Using her psions, she directed the arrows to take out the two guns on the floor, the two guns on the ceiling, and the four guns on each wall.

The four arrows went in four different directions with a single shot, one arrow for every two guns. She made the arrows hit in between the guns, freezing them in the radius of the circular blast of ice that followed.

Éclair heard shouting behind her. She quickly surmised that the quantity of enemies coming for her were too numerous for her to deal with alone. Her bow was powerful, but it still had its limits. The more enemies, the thinner the spread of ice became.

Twenty or more opponents, and the ice arrows became ineffective. Plus, Éclair had to be conservative about her psions. Her arrows wouldn’t run out, but her psions would, and when that happened, she would be a sitting target.

As Éclair ran down the corridors, energy blasts exploded all around her, at her feet, on the walls, even the ceiling. She jumped from wall to wall to throw off her opponents, but from all the dozens of guns being aimed at her at once, that served as only a temporary measure.

Éclair managed to fire off a few shots by twisting in midair, but it hardly even slowed her attackers. They began to realize that most of the ice arrows were nonlethal, so they became bolder in their pursuit. Plus, more and more kept coming, so the ice wasn’t strong enough to hold them in place for long.

Dashing around a corner with a quick burst of speed, Éclair decided that a change in tactics was in order. She withdrew one arrow and slammed it into the wall. Éclair discharged as much psions as she could spare into the arrow before jumping out of the way and covering herself while crouching.

The wall shattered in a torrent of frozen metal. Éclair dashed through the hole and refroze the hole that she just made. Hopefully, in the dimly lit corridors, her attackers wouldn’t notice the wall replaced with ice.

Éclair didn’t stay to see if the guards were fooled, but her little trick seemed to work for a while. The sirens still flared, but she didn’t encounter anymore guards as she descended down a flight of endless stairs.

She ran through offices and break rooms. She went through laboratories and assembly lines. Occasionally, she’d run across some automatic guns, but she was more careful than last time. She figured it was the guns that had alerted all those guards to her presence, so if she avoided them, she might remain anonymous.

Finally, Éclair came into a massive room that looked much like a storage chamber. All around her were half-finished missiles and guns on assembly lines. The room was so large that it had its own echo when she breathed. As Éclair made a beeline for the door at the opposite end of the room, a dark-skinned bald man in a business suit suddenly stood in her path. He seemed to materialize out of the shadows themselves.

The man had no weapons, but he appeared confident enough to be facing an Elemental. Something seemed familiar about the bald man, but Éclair hardly took note of that as she notched an arrow to her bow and took aim. But the man slowly shook his head and pointed behind her. Éclair chanced a glance behind and saw guards crouching behind her with their weapons raised.

Then the man spoke, but his voice didn’t belong to any man, but that of a Goblin. A Goblin named Galzar Slithe. “Surrender, Éclair Hamashe.”

Éclair froze, too stunned for words. Too stunned to even think clearly. Only one thought ran through her mind. He knows!

Galzar, in his black, bald man disguise, smiled coldly and said, “Yes, I know who you are, your Highness. But Lord Gregory does not. If he did know, he would no doubt kill you, but I intend to keep you alive, so your best chance of survival is sticking with me. Lay down your arms and come quietly.

“The building has been sealed and there is no way for you to escape. Even the windows and walls are shielded to keep you from going outside. You could be running around for hours, even days, and you would never find a way out. You may have escaped your prison chambers, but you are still no less a prisoner.

“So please, save us the all the hassle, and kindly walk back to your cell. If you comply, I might even convince Lord Gregory to stop whipping you. You will be in relative comfort for the duration of the Ministry War ... at least until I can arrange transportation with my superiors to take us off-world.”

Éclair got the feeling that there was more going on with the Goblins than simply being Lord Gregory’s lap dogs. They seemed far too intelligent and powerful than to suffer such a man. But still, Éclair had no time to find out more. Éclair didn’t know why Galzar would reveal this in the presence of the other guards. Perhaps he was counting on the fact that they were paid to shoot, not ask questions. Suddenly, a revelation struck Éclair.

“Silvia hasn’t returned yet, has she? Guess my friends proved too ‘tenacious’ for her,” gloated Éclair.

Galzar did not respond.

Éclair took his silence as a sign that her friends had prevailed against the young assassin. For some odd reason, Éclair found herself hoping that the young Goblin was still alive. That is not to say that Éclair hoped that the Goblin defeated her friends. If Éclair had to choose, she’d kill Silvia herself without hesitation if it meant saving those that she loved. Rather, she hoped that Silvia had failed at her mission, but maybe found a way to escape during the confusion. Maybe after her failed mission, all the fight would be driven out of her.

Quickly turning her thoughts to Galzar, Éclair gave her best triumphant grin and said, “Thanks, but no thanks, Galzar. I think I’ll take my chances playing hide-and-go-seek until my friends get here.”

Her objective no longer entailed escape, but to stall for time. Éclair raised her bow in one hand. Instead of notching an arrow, she used the blade of her bow to stab deep into the platinum floor. The metal ground sizzled and sparked from the heat of her psionic blade. She then spun in a circle and created an instant manhole into the floor. Éclair dropped to the level below and quickly jumped into an air duct at the edge of the room.

As Éclair crawled away, she heard Galzar ordering about his subordinates. “She’s in the ventilation system! Quickly, cut her off! Close all shafts! Cover all exits! We will not let her escape!”

Don’t get ahead of yourself, Galzar, thought Éclair to herself. This little chase of ours is only getting started!


Eramar had arrived on the battlefield. The familiar sights of death and destruction greeted him. Part of him wanted to go back to the Ministry, the rational part that called him a fool for even thinking about doing what he contemplated. But rational or not, he was still Eramar the Demon Slayer, and he had a job to do.

I’ve been to hell and back dozens of times. So how will doing it once more make any difference?

The squad of spiritual-types had done their job well. If enough Elementals with the ability to teleport came together, they could circumvent many kinds of dampening fields, like the one the Ministry of Water erected to prevent travel via gateways. However, it came at a cost. Almost the entire squad of spiritual-types lay out of commission. Being a Wielder, only Eramar was strong enough to keep going after the teleport. Eramar had to leave them behind with a squad of Medics to tend to them, but he made sure they knew they had his thanks.

Eramar blocked out the explosions and the screams. Billows of fire danced through the skies and rivers of water rushed through the buildings. Other elements came to play as well, but they weren’t called the Ministries of Fire and Water for nothing. Elementals like Éclair and Leon, whose element didn’t match with the rest of their Ministry, were a rarity.

So, in the end, it came down to a battle between opposite elements. Water versus fire. Ice versus lava. Mist versus lightning. Although water-types generally had an advantage over fire-types, the Fire Elementals had the advantage of fighting on their home turf.

For centuries, District 8 served as the ancestral home of the Fire Elementals, and they knew its geography like the back of their hands, a fact that proved time and again to be most beneficial on the battlefield. Plus, Water Elemency was more adept at defense than offense, so the Water Elementals couldn’t make very much progress aggressively.

So, for the most part, the war became a stalemate. The Water Elementals would attack, the Fire Elementals would counterattack. The Water would fall back and defend, the Fire would fall back and defend. An endless game of tug-a-war swinging one way momentarily, and then the other. Back and forth; on and on.

In other words, this would be a drawn-out fight. Drawn-out battles were the worse because they meant the death tolls would skyrocket on either side. If the battle were one-sided, no matter who won, it would ultimately mean fewer deaths when the other side surrendered

Eramar caught sight of Victor dashing out of the window of a building that became engulfed in fire, lava, and lightning. As he shot out of the building hundreds of feet in the air, he used fire jets from his hand to slow his fall. Eramar saw several Elementals in blue armor fleeing the scorched building and ducking for cover. Victor noticed Eramar and angled himself to glide over to him. With a thud, Victor dropped to the earth panting and covered in soot.

“Well, that’s one building they won’t be using as a sniper den.”

“Indeed,” agreed Eramar. “Can you tell me where Konamay is?”

Victor pointed to a row of smoking buildings to the north, where most of the battle seemed to be concentrated. “He’s set up a headquarters to the north. They’re boxed in tight at Hall’s Market Place. But it’d be a fool’s errand to go there, let alone to face him. If it were a one-on-one match between two Wielders, then maybe.

“But he’s got a full battalion with him. And you can be damn sure that he won’t be as noble as you ... not during wartime. He’ll send scores of his troops to their deaths just to give him an opening to finish you off.”

“He could do that, but I doubt he will. Konamay doesn’t strike me as the type who would needlessly waste the lives of his men, not if he feels confident he can defeat me on his own, which no doubt he does.”

“It’s still a gamble, and a bad one at that,” cautioned Victor. “You’re too valuable to waste on some suicide mission. Wait until Konamay is forced to abandon his stronghold and join the main battle. You can finish him off then on our terms.”

“By the time Konamay is forced to come out of his hole, it’ll be too late to stop this war. Besides, I never said anything about finishing him off.”

Victor stared at Eramar as if he’d just grown an extra head. An explosion of ice and mist detonated not far from their position, but Victor didn’t even react to the impending danger.

“If not to finish him off, then to capture him? You know there’s a reason why it’s forbidden to even attempt to capture someone of Wielder Level. It’s just too dangerous. There’s no way to safely contain an Elemental of that power, at least not now when all our resources are devoted to the war effort.”

“I didn’t say capture him either.”

“Then what?! Shake his hand and invite him for tea?!”

“I’m going to talk to him. I have new evidence that proves that we are not responsible for the cause of this war, nor are the Water Elementals. Well, not entirely. If I can negotiate a temporary ceasefire, it will give us the time we need to prove our innocence.”

“Oh, Caretaker above! Were you even paying attention the last time you two met? He’s a meathead! A glorified Neanderthal with a scythe instead of a club! The only thing he understands is who to bash with his club next, and right now, that’s us! And nothing you say will ever convince him otherwise!”

“Then it’s a good thing that I prefer to let my actions speak for me rather than my words,” replied Eramar, meeting Victor’s glare.

Victor’s grimace softened somewhat. “You’re a stubborn man, Eramar. I know I won’t be able to sway you, so at least let me come with you.”

 
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