Chapter 28: Freeing the Mind of the Fire Minister

As I dueled with the Conjurer, I was struck by how overwhelming he was. Though we had fought several times in the past, he always seemed to be holding back. And I just realized why. We had always battled in urban areas in the past, brimming with innocent bystanders. But our most recent bout occurred on a barren moon. He did not need to fear collateral damage. He had been unleashed. Even with my accumulative knowledge of Elemency and the dark arts of the Shadow, I could barely hold my own against the man. But that just made me all the more determined. I am Lucius Lurranna. It was no mere chance that I had become the head of the most powerful Mystic family that the universe had ever seen.

Torsha was both a Monk gifted with Light Elemency, and a Werewolf. There were not many things she inherently feared. But she understood the emotion well enough as she felt paralyzed with fear at the awesome calamity that was potentially the Minister of Fire. Saria, or rather whatever dark power had taken ahold of her, watched Ryan’s and Grafael’s clash with a look of intensity that bordered along hunger. Her face angled itself in a way that almost seemed inhuman as a predatory look of voraciousness overtook her once pristine features. In that moment, this human woman seemed more like a wolf than Torsha had ever felt in her life ignorant to the ways of her tribal people.

Torsha now stood, or rather floated, inside rings composed of blue fire. The flames were of a peculiar psionic quality that created the effect of weightlessness, causing the captor to float helplessly in the air unless the caster released the spell. Try to escape, or even move, and the rings would enclose around the victim, completely incinerating every portion of the body. Saria could summon flames that far surpassed heat from a sun, burn down a target at an atomic level until not one atom remained, so Torsha knew better than to defy such a being. The rings of blue fire twirled around Torsha’s slim body like hula-hoops that little girls would play with. Torsha herself had enjoyed the game at the Monastery when she was younger, though she doubted she would see the activity in the same light again. Although the floating fires were only centimeters from Torsha’s frame, she could hardly feel the heat of the flame, another fine example of the Minister’s Elemental prowess demonstrating that her power responded to intent. Only if the Minister desired to kill Torsha would the flames become hot. However, Torsha knew that these flames in particular could become so hot that they would burn her down to the bone faster than she could feel it, hence her decision not to resist.

The rings of blue fire hissed and hummed as they danced down the length of Torsha’s body. When a single ring would reach the end of her feet, it would vanish only for another ring to appear above Torsha’s head and slide down the length of her body. This rhythm would continue with three of four flames appearing and disappearing while going down her body. Torsha held herself rigid, her body completely stiff as she made herself as straight as she could so as not to touch the rings. She knew from experience that the flames would burn her if she touched them regardless of her intent. After Saria pointed her finger at Torsha and cast the technique, she only had a second to tuck her tail in before it was burned clean off, and even then, the hair at the end of the tail was still singed slightly. Though Torsha’s own knowledge of Light Elemency was hardly limited, she was no match for the power of a Vessel-leveled Elemental. So no matter how much she desperately wanted to do something, her own powerful survival instincts as a Werewolf kept her completely motionless. She could only watch as the Minister’s deranged features twisted with hungry anticipation at Ryan’s and Grafael’s battle which had devolved into a grudge match.

Torsha could not understand why Grafael was being so ruthless. Did he not consider Ryan his friend? Was he just being controlled like Saria? Come to think of it, she could not understand how it was possible for any telepath to take control of Saria Kaves. In order to enact mind control on another being, one’s psions had to be comparable to the person being controlled. That meant that the telepath either had to be at least as powerful, or probably much more so, in order to effectively put someone under hypnosis. There were precious few beings in the universe whose strength could rival that of a Vessel.

Could it be one of the other Ministers? And if so, are they controlling Grafael as well?! This may be a high-colluded plot to kill Ryan for some reason! No, wait. It said this was a test of some kind. He doesn’t want to kill Ryan, he wants to push him! But push him to what? I guess it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that whatever this thing wants, I can’t let it have it! I may be helpless, but I am not beaten. There are more ways to fight than just with brute force. Whoever has possessed Saria, his control is a tenuous thing. Easily broken if I can find a way to rouse the Minister’s spirit somehow.

Torsha tried to stifle the pangs of worry she was feeling for her protégé. Ryan had demonstrated a tremendous amount of growth in the time that she had known him, but she doubted he could stand up to the unbridled force that was a full-fledged Saurian warrior. There was a reason they were considered the most feared race of fighters in existence. Torsha swallowed as she contemplated defying a being that could disintegrate her with a thought in order to save a boy that she may have kind of liked ... but more importantly, to help a friend.

“So, Minister, or whoever is controlling her at the moment,” called out Torsha from her imprisonment, the rings causing her to twirl slightly in the air, occasionally turning her upside down. It was disconcerting, but hardly a deterrent as Torsha’s spirit roared with defiance at whoever her captor may be. “You seem really interested in this fight between Ryan and Grafael.”

The Minister ignored Torsha, continuing to pace like a caged animal while watching the fight. If Torsha did not know any better, she could have sworn that she almost saw concern intermixed into these carnivorous eyes as Saria watched Ryan get struck by a kick from Grafael. Whether this concern originated from Saria or the creature possessing her remained to be seen.

“The kid does have talent, I’ll give you that,” continued Torsha, trying to find some way to penetrate Saria’s psyche and force her to fight back at whatever was holding her. At the same time, she tried to remain unobtrusive enough so as not to incur the wrath of the puppet master. “But he doesn’t have Grafael’s years of battle experience. And despite being a half-breed, he’s not as strong or as tough as a pureblooded Earth Dragon. It hardly seems fair, right?”

Saria started laughing a little, though her voice sounded like a man’s instead of a woman’s. Whoever was controlling her had to be a man, or at least a male as her face twisted into something more akin to a beast than a human. “Fair? What a novel concept. Perhaps the most perfect lie this universe has ever produced. Nothing is fair, little Lycanthrope. Nothing is just. Those who pretend otherwise are just deluding themselves, wishing desperately to be nobler than they actually are.”

The voice that came from the Minister was both chilling and soothing at the same time, possessing all the wit and charm of a college professor, and yet all the charisma of a sociopath. It chilled Torsha to the bone just to hear that voice, and even more so when she found herself strangely drawn to it, as if wanting to accept the dark realities that this voice championed. Steeling herself and using all her will to resist whatever power crept within this creature’s words, Torsha continued her probing.

“Still,” said Torsha, trying her best to be innocuous, which was not difficult considering how terrified she felt at the moment, her canine instincts frantically crying out for an escape from this entrapment. “I find it hard to believe that you would go to all this trouble only to see your target killed by an enraged Saurian.”

Saria nodded, her pupils still smoking by whatever dark power held her captive. “It would be unfortunate, I grant you. But if he can’t overcome this trial, then I can hardly expect him to be equal to the task I have in store for him. Ryan Uruks is an individual who can only be propelled forward by exceptional circumstances. Frankly, he was starting to stagnate under your tutelage. He was getting too comfortable ... too at ease. I need ambition from the boy, not contentment.”

“Stagnate!?” scoffed Torsha, getting offended despite the circumstances. “So I suppose you think I should’ve beat the crap outta him with a giant, two-ton hammer! Yeah, that makes much more sense!”

“Be grateful that this is all I’ve chosen to do to him at present,” warned the voice softly, the echoes of its tone sending shivers running down Torsha’s spine. “I had considered killing off one or two of his friends. If he is to grow into the man I need him to be, such luxuries will only deter his growth in the future. The only reason I have allowed him to perpetuate such relationships is because rivalry is another necessary step to power, but one which will see the end of its course in due time.”

Torsha found herself both enraged and entranced by this voice. If she was listening to some of these words without context, she could have sworn she was hearing nothing more than the concerns of an overprotective parent. However, the vindictive undertones of the creature snapped Torsha from her stupor, and she found herself hating the voice behind the words. Who was this monster to claim such concern for Ryan’s upbringing while contemplating torturing him for some nonspecific reasons?

“Why are you so concerned with Ryan’s upbringing when you’re doing your damnedest to kill him?” asked Torsha.

“You are still very young, so this is something difficult for you to understand,” continued the voice in a lecturing tone, as if he were explaining grown-up concepts to a five-year-old. “But in my experience ... true, unadulterated power is not given, but earned. And the only way to earn it is through pain. More pain than anyone can ever truly conceive of. All I want is to help Ryan earn his power. Power through pain. And his pain has only just begun.”

“I may not know who you are,” started Torsha, a slight growl coming through her clenched fangs. “But even if it’s not your face or your voice, I can tell you’re one sick puppy, and that’s coming from a wolf!”

The creature smiled with Saria’s lips and only chuckled slightly in response. During the match, Torsha saw through the screen that Grafael was holding Ryan down to the ground with his hand to Ryan’s head for an unknown amount of time. Sensing that the mind controller’s attentions were more on the fight now than on her, Torsha decided to risk taking action. Although it would be impossible for a single Monk to beat the Minister of Fire outright, maybe Torsha could distract her somehow to break the telepath’s hold over her. Sometimes, it was the simplest things that broke a mind control spell. Something unexpected, or a little physical exertion that caused the captive to rouse their spirit within themselves, especially in the case of ridiculously strong people like Saria Kaves.

Little by little, with Saria focused on the fighting and her back to Torsha, the little Werewolf began weaving her Light Elemency. Light Elemency was unlike any element in existence. A proper user could make it mimic any form of matter. Not just energy, but solid, liquid, or gas. Torsha had perfected a certain technique of Light Elemency that allowed her to make strings of energy from her fingertips. These energy strings of glowing white light could be made to grasp physical objects, and Torsha could direct them to move anyway she desired. However, it was tedious work that required almost every ounce of her concentration to keep the Light Elemency in a form that imitated the solid shape of a rope. Plus, she had to move the rope down the length of her body without touching the rings of fire. She did not know precisely what would happen if her Elemency came in contact with the Minister’s, but she knew that it probably would not be good. In fact, it might set off some kind of alarm or booby trap. Since she had to make the string of light solid, the flames might interpret it as Torsha’s body trying to squeeze out and kill her on the spot.

And so, Torsha pointed one of her lightly furry, clawed fingers down and willed a string of light to materialize from there and slither down her body like a snake while not touching the flames that still sizzled very close to her fur. She would cause the rope of light to stretch itself out down to the end of her feet where the flames vanished. If she was careful to keep her rope within the ring, she could make her rope stretch all the way to the Minister. The only problem was that the Minister stood almost outside of her range of about three meters for this technique. Also, Torsha might not be able to reach the Minister directly since she had to stretch her rope down the length of her body. Still, it was worth a shot, and if it had even the slightest chance of snapping Saria out of her hypnosis, then it would pay off, even if it did get her killed in the end. Torsha’s light string which was not much wider than her finger fizzled slightly, and Torsha chided herself for allowing her resolve to be fazed by thoughts of death.

Get it together, girl! Like Hannah Lioness taught you! Your Elemency is controlled by your emotions! If your emotions are not under control, then neither will your Light! Besides, who cares if I get killed? If it saves Ryan and frees the Minister, then it’s my duty to see it done!

But even her thoughts of bravado could not completely still the fear in Torsha’s beating heart. Redoubling her efforts, Torsha closed her eyes and said a silent prayer to the Caretaker for strength, just like Hannah had taught her when she felt her courage waning.

Lord Caretaker, it’s me again. Torsha, the perpetual screw-up. I want you to know that I’m probably going to be seeing you very soon, because it’s very likely that I’m about to die. But before I do, please just give me the chance to accomplish something good. Give me the chance to be useful just this once and leave this world on the right note. So, by the power of your Sacred Vessel, Zanderius Alastar, and the Light he serves, help me thwart this demon who would presume to lay claim to your servant, the Minister of Fire.

Torsha felt her convictions hardening, taking comfort from the prayer just like Hannah had said she would when the time came. Torsha’s light string took on a solid form again as she resumed her efforts to get it outside of the rings of blue fire.

Suddenly realizing that it would seem suspicious for her to stay quiet for too long, Torsha willed herself into conversing again, no matter how unsettling she found it. She also considered that she might find a way to rouse Saria’s spirits once again.

“So I take it you must be one of the other Ministers, then? I can’t think of anyone else who has the power to put Saria Kaves under possession,” Torsha pried, hoping to at least gauge a clue on her captor’s identity.

The Minister said nothing, seemingly engulfed by the fight between Grafael and Ryan on the screen, and no wonder considering the level of strength being displayed, not just by Grafael, but Ryan who was surprisingly holding his own.

“Oh, come on. Just give me a hint. I mean, if I’m going to die, I should at least know the one who’s pulling the strings.”

Still no response.

“What happened to Chatty Cathy earlier?” said Torsha, somewhat annoyed at being ignored. “A minute ago, I couldn’t get you to shut up, and now you’re going all aloof and stoic on me.”

Torsha quietly regretted the rebuke, especially if it caused her captor to lash out in anger, or at the very least, turn around to see the rope of light slowly making its way out of the encirclement of flames. But instead of getting angry, Torsha saw from her vantage at the side that the puppeteer just smiled through Saria. It was an eerie smile that reminded Torsha of those creepy clowns she saw in depictions of art from Ancient Earth.

“You remind me of another Werewolf, young Torsha. He used to be one of my students. I believe he knew your parents. Though you are a little more refined than him, perhaps, the similarity is still there.”

Torsha was taken aback, her mind going blank as she realized the implications of what this creature was telling her.

This psychopath knows about my family! My real family from the Werewolf packs! thought Torsha to herself, panicked and excited simultaneously. If that’s true, then maybe I could ... No! I’m playing right into her hands. I mean his hands, or its ... or whatever’s hands, if it even has hands. I need to focus on what I’m doing, not get caught up in this thing’s mind games.

“Speaking of family,” said Torsha, trying with all her might to keep her opponent from knowing how rattled she really felt. “Doesn’t Minister Kaves have family in this game as well?”

The Minister did not reply, but Torsha thought she could detect the slightest of twitches in Saria’s gait, so she pressed her attack.

“Yeah, that’s right! Éclair is her adopted daughter, and Rachel is her granddaughter. It must be hard, setting those two against each other like that. I mean, I come from a race that is sometimes known for eating its young if they seem too puny, but even for me, that’s kind of cold.”

“What do you know about it, wolf cub?” asked the Minister suddenly, but this time in her own voice. Though fortunately, she still didn’t face Torsha. “Am I to sit here and be lectured by a petulant child?”

Torsha had heard of this. The mind control was not broken, but it was cracking as Saria’s emotions were aroused. She was becoming more aware of her surroundings, her mind coming into consciousness. It might just take a little emotional nudge to break the spell.

“I’m just saying that you don’t strike me as the maternal type, Minister,” continued Torsha, silently rejoicing as she strung the last bit of light rope out of the end of the blue fire rings. And thankfully, she might still have enough slack left to stretch it all the way to Saria. “I mean, you hardly speak to your granddaughter or adopted daughter, and you don’t seem too put out by the fact that they are constantly at each other’s throats. It’s almost like you want them to fight. Could you have the same fetish for creating strength through pain like the freak who’s controlling you?”

“What are you implying?” cried out the Minister, suddenly looking confused as she clutched her head in her hands and spoke in an uncertain voice. “Are you saying that I don’t love my granddaughter? I would die for her!”

“You would die for any of your students, Minister,” retorted Torsha, her rope of light shaping itself into a noose as it floated towards the back of Saria’s head. “That’s your duty as the Fire Minister. But what have you done to let Rachel or Éclair know that they are more than just students to you?” Torsha felt bad for the psychological games she was playing with Saria, but she could hold nothing back if she hoped to snap the Minister awake. Though if this worked, she made a note to apologize profusely when this was over.

“I am the Minister of Fire!” asserted Saria, her voice quivering slightly. “I cannot play favorites! I must not foil their potential by coddling them!”

“So neglecting them is the better alternative?” chided Torsha, inches away from laying her trap. “I suppose that could work if all you want is for them to be independent. I just hope that they don’t hate you too much for it.”

Her noose was just above Saria’s head, the Minister still quivering under the effects of the hypnosis and Torsha’s own psychoanalysis. Suddenly, Saria stopped shaking and stood up straight so that her head was perfectly aligned to the hole in the noose.

Then, speaking in a voice which was a twisted mix between the puppeteer’s voice and Saria’s, the Minister said, “Do you honestly think I haven’t realized that you’re trying to distract me?”

Her eyes widening in horror, Torsha willed her rope of light to snap around the Minister’s throat before the flames could engulf her. One of the benefits of Light Elemency is that, if used at a certain frequency, it could dampen all other Elemental techniques. In fact, scientists had studied Light Elemency to be used in creating weapons that could effectively thwart an Elemental’s powers. Though it depended on how powerful an Elemental was, Torsha was particularly adept at shutting down other people’s powers, especially when her ropes were touching close to her target’s head. So as soon as Torsha wrapped her rope around the Minister’s throat, the blue flames vanished completely, allowing Torsha to drop to the floor.

Rolling to her knees, Torsha wrapped the rope tightly around her palm, and raised her other hand to summon forth one of her Corrocks, pulsing with white energy. “You realized too late. Now that my ropes are around her throat, they can dampen even the Minister’s power. Guess you forgot that I am a Monk who serves the Light. We were originally commissioned to balance out the Elementals after all. The very technology that Chissler uses to create weapons that subdue Elemental powers came from studying Light Elemency. But dampening the Minister’s flames is just my first trick. If taken to a certain degree, Light Elemency can cancel out almost all psionic techniques. That includes telepathy placed on another individual. So, I’m afraid that this is checkmate mister ... Or missus. I’m just assuming you’re a guy because of the dark, creepy voice.”