Night Rider

Chapter Five

Zenth 'Z' Point of View

The speaker was a young man, probably around my physical age. Upon his head he had a series of tattoo like markings. I knew that those can from his Anthrea heritage. This was Maarzth.

“However,” he continued addressing me, “My sister and I don't intend to go quietly."

Sister? Our informant only said that there was one. I didn’t know anything about the sister. Maarzth was telekinetic, I didn't want to entertain the thought that they were both superior, “I couldn’t expect you to ruin your reputation, however, I shall not  ruin my own.”

I noticed a petite girl creeping out into the main bridge area, I unsheathed my katana and signalled to Qiturah to progress towards her with caution. Qiturah drew her laser gun and fired toward the girl, mostly to figure out what she was capable of. I was mildly surprised when a wall of fire swooped forward to intercept Q.  

The girl was pyrokinetic, not terribly dangerous. I noticed that when Qiturah had approached Maarzth, his hands had moved in a circular motion. The fire was dragged into the dance that he had initiated. So they were a team, I knew that it was dangerous to assume that, but it did make sense.

The girl was only slightly gifted, the brother had ‘won the genetic lottery’ to use a human term. The girl summoned the demons of flame, while Maarzth controlled them.

Fire was a form of plasma. The state of plasma made up about ninety nine percent of the universe. I didn't like relying on my ability, it was too unreliable. However, no one could deny that my ability made me powerful.

Maarzth pushed his hands out from his chest. He selected flames to make a heavy ball of flames, it burned a hypnotising blend of crimsons and golds. The heat whispered a promise of bliss and comfort. A small part of my mind wondered if this was part of the siblings’ power.

I focused on the flames. I saw the array of particles on an atomic level. I pushed on each one, persuading it to change directions. Convincing each particle to change masters.

The flames hesitated, unsure who was stronger. We battled, Maarzth snarled slightly, his jaw clenching in concentration. I knew I needed a distraction. I was losing sight and sense of the delicate balance of atoms. There was a higher density of them somewhere over to my left—if I just…

I gave up all claim to the flames and rolled out of the way. My wings, although somewhat painfully, made that journey smoother. The moment that I was one my feet again I rose in the air, a metre, two metres.

I focused my energy on a small plasma battery. I began to energising the atoms, mentally throwing it towards Maarzth. The small explosion that resulted broke his concentration and the fire died.

I was able to spare a slight glance towards Q, she and the unknown girl had resorted to hand-to-hand combat. Q seemed to be holding her own and Maarzth was recovering.

Maarzth’s hands moved out, towards me. His long tunic flowed with him, like water flowing around a rock in the stream. He sent a long jagged piece of metal flying towards me.

It wasn't even plasma infused, I cartwheeled out of the way. I felt the air part and Maarzth brought it around for another strike. I couldn't do anything to challenge his mastery of the object.

The sharp spear of grey tore past me. It tore into my wing, the metallic tang of iron filled the air. I missed a wing beat and my stomach dropped faster than my body as I plummeted. The air was painful as I slammed my injured wing against it trying to regain some altitude.

Maarzth had the advantage, I couldn't control anything that wasn't plasma infused. I had to force him to lose focus, to revert to physical combat.

It was a gamble, but I had to do something, I stopped moving and focused upon the multiple plasma conduits running through the walls of the ship. I saw the particle arrangement, I saw the atoms and felt their flow inside my head. I felt how they worked under my skin, with some sort of instinctive knowledge.

I persuaded the atoms to become energised, to push the boundaries of stability. Maarzth called forth an abstract current of air to disrupt my concentration, following the disruption with an attack of powerful metal, reaching forth to drive itself into my injured wing.

The distraction worked, my concentration was shattered and I lost mastery over the particles, but it was too late. They were already well past the border of safety, they speed up, faster and faster, the particles destabilised.

I felt the conduits around Maarzth vibrate with energy, the feeling was almost painful. Then, in a single second all around the fugitive exploded in purple flames.

The pain was crippling in my own head, I closed my eyes to clear the pain. I flew forward into the purple fire cloud. I tackled Maarzth blindly, I felt his scales and ridges under my fingertips. I fastened my arms around his throat, trying to bring him into the realm of unconsciousness. He dug his fingers into the wound on my wing, tearing out great handfuls of feathers.

I wasn't immune to the flames either, I could feel Maarzth’s skin grow warm as he boiled. My own appendages were undergoing similar stress. My feathers were burning, creating the most morbid music as they still preformed their natural function.

I denied Maarzth air. He clawed at my arm, but he couldn’t concentrate long enough to use his abilities. I could tell that he hadn't spent all his life training physically, I had the physical advantage. Assuming that I could stay conscious long enough to use that advantage.

My gills burned, I was inhaling charred skin and smoke now. My feathers were all but burnt away, the wound on my wing stung, the smoke and ash had permeated it. My regenerative ability was primarily concerned with remaking my eyes and optic nerves every time that they boiled. It was about three dozen now.

I felt the tension leave Maarzth’s body as he fell into unconsciousness. That gave me enough time to focus on quenching the purple flames. I persuaded them to calm down, to end their crusade, and they listened to me.