Embers and Icicles

Chapter Fourteen

The chatter of the children finally faded into the steady breaths of sleep, interrupted by an occasional snore or giggle. Slate turned back to Amelie and Henry, the owner of the hotel where the kids were temporarily taking shelter. Slate thanked the stars once again that he had paid so many people favours–because now they felt that they owed those favours back.

Henry was a man he felt especially close with. The Inanimate elemental could control steel and stone, but unlike Slate, he had no grasp on diamonds or other precious metals. Instead, he used his power to create a chain of several successful hotels.

At just over six feet tall, his figure would have been intimidating if years of his wife's home cooking hadn't rounded the sharp angles of his prime.

That very wife was the reason why Slate and Henry met–a group of humans had kidnapped her in an attempt to make Henry give up all his properties. They believed that no elemental deserved to have that level of success. The bitter fuckers couldn't put in their own work, and thought it was fair game to blackmail an elemental instead.

Luckily, Slate was able to stop their plot. Back then, humans taking out their rage on elementals was more rare, less organised. Now, not even children were safe from their anger.

"The kids can stay here as long as they need," Henry assured the two. After a few hefty yawns, he turned in. Slate couldn't sleep, so he went outside for some air. The wind had abated slightly, but it still whipped at his steel. He shut off the sensors telling his brain how cold it was.

Behind him, Amelie's soft steps padded towards him. He watched a lone car approach, and then speed past, before turning to look at her.

"Thank you, Ty–er, Slate. It means so much to the kids." and to me.

"You don't need to call me Slate. It feels wrong." Because she was part of his old life, before he became Slate, or because the new name felt like a barrier between them?

"Well, Tyler, I know you didn't want to come back. I'm glad you did."

She stood next to him for a second longer, but the biting cold tore into her, and unlike him, she was human. She couldn't block away the feeling. In the past, Slate would have given her his coat, maybe rubbed her shoulders until the chill left her.

"You should probably go inside. You'll catch a cold." He gave a forced smile.

Amelie nodded reluctantly and returned to the hotel. "Good night," Slate said quietly. She murmured the words back.

Slate watched the night for a time. It was late enough that nobody was around to notice the flickering, half-burned-out vacancy sign on the hotel, or the way Slate turned off his screen so no one would see an ounce of the emotion on his electric face.

Down the road, a figure appeared. Red hair pulled into tight braids flared out from the figure's head, and when the light hit him just right, the white mask covering his face shone. His long, brown cloak billowed at his feet, miraculously never dirtying itself against the ground.

"Jake, you're back." Slate turned his screen back on to smile at the familiar face–or rather, lack of face. In a way, they were similar.

"It's good to see you again. I have news." Jake's face covering didn't hold him back in the slightest. You could hear the cheeky grin he was always wearing. Depending on the day, Slate either found it charming, or annoying as hell. Today was one of the better ones.

"Let's hear it then."

"Calm down, Mr. Impatient. No small talk?"

"Maybe Mr. Show Up With Pressing Information should cut to the chase. Unless talking about the weather is more interesting to you." It was uncanny how well Slate's face could mimic a human one–there was a kind of twinkle in his eye as he spoke.