I’m sliding in at the very last minute, but Merry Calibration, @sly-works! I hope I’ve done Jae justice. He’s an unassuming guy who is up to nothing particularly suspicious AT ALL. You can learn more about him here.
He’d fit right well in with my boy ,Laughing Fox, who is also fond of aliases and being up to nothing troublesome in particular. >:D
I feel like I have a gun pointed at me oh god oh fu- /hj
WELL
Ivor, Petra, Lukas and Radar from MCSM are 💖💚💗💖💚💚, I also love Paladin Danse and Arthur Maxson from fo4, and I don't know if my own OCs can count I've been on a kick for Fire Aspect for MONTHS
Woo! My one and probably only fic for the AU month. just couldn’t not contribute somehow after my silence. This is a big one, especially for me, and feature’s my fusion character Fire Aspect. Enjoy!
Fire Aspect
[READ IT ON AO3!]
The Aspect of Fire had been born of passion. She had been born on a whim, driven by the valiant instinct that the strong protect the weak, to fight against the odds and survive. If not for the sake of herself, then for the sake of those she loved.
No matter what those around her spoke, Fire Aspect refused to believe she’d been an accident.
Some would argue that separated, the warrior and alchemist who stood as the respective halves of Fire Aspect were mistakes in themselves. A girl long disowned by her parents for reasons lost to her new adopted family, and a man who had nearly brought about the end of the world in a poorly planned and frugal attempt at revenge, now part of that family.
Their becoming was almost ironic considering their very first meetings, all the way back before the Endercon incident, were seasoned with resentment and distrust for eachother, and could arguably the very events that started the near apocalypse. Though, with too many other factors unaccounted for, it was difficult to determine.
It had been a long while before Ivor and Petra become fond enough of eachother to consider themselves friends, and even longer to be truly family, bound by a real connection and not blood or vows. Despite all of Jesse’s suggestions or attempts at creating something other than resentment between them, it was a relationship only they could build with combined and sometimes absent-minded efforts, such as quiet acceptance following actions and gut feelings that had begun to feel natural when they’d never been before.
Months ago Petra found herself pierced with a skeleton’s arrow, having leapt in front of Ivor to prevent the piercing of the alchemist’s own heart. The stone arrowhead embedded itself in the shoulder blade of her swinging arm. That night, wounds from the warrior’s deed were treated with unconditional care, healed without even a scar left behind thanks to Ivor’s absolute mastery of healing arts. Soon, sitting next to each other at dinner became an option. With time the exchange of gifts became prominent- a little bird told Ivor that the brash warrior happened to be a fan of sappy, poorly written romance novels. He’d provided bountifully with enough books to amount to a small library, and Petra had been thrilled to a point where stunting her excitement in front of the others proved difficult. He was given an awkward, fakely disappointed “thanks.”, notably full of spirit. The Order hadn’t known of her guilty pleasure, except his little bird Jesse. In return, Ivor had woken up with more than a month’s worth of blaze rods piled on his desk roughly two days later. This turned to verbal thanks, then training together, eventually sharing a drink by the glowing warmth of a fireplace. each and every moment amounted to something. Small, yes, but something, The regularity of these special moments began to increase, like embers to a newborn fire rising in a furor ready to ignite. Romantically involved? No. What they had was something more.
After everything they’d been through, All but Jesse assumed they would fail in forming a bond strong enough to unlock the highest magical potential: Fusion.
There were a rare few in the world capable of such a thing as fusion. The art of it spanned beyond thousands of years into the past. They were called Atunes, a people- by the passing of bloodline, chance, or blessing -who held a source of powerful magic within them, that of which could only be tapped into with the strength of two hearts over one. Some bloodlines showed to be more powerful than others. However, the mythic force within all Atunes was known to be far too overbearing for one heart and mind to handle, with recorded deaths in the past of those who’d tried to reach the power on their own. Thus, with the united force of two Atunes, two sources of power are unlocked, channeled into one complete being in a spontaneous fusing of two Atunes. These complex beings relied not only on their powers to remain stable, but on the mental cooperation of their Atunes. An unstable mind meant an unstable fusion.
For the New Order To find themselves with the status of Atunes was a shock to all of them, though Ivor hardly seemed surprised. It was simply destiny, he’d said. Or maybe a gift from a grateful unseen creator of their world. They wore their titles well, but some fusions came easier than others.
To think Ivor and Petra could fuse, though? It was a stretch.
...Until the day of the Ice Spikes expedition.
Technology is their world was an eclectic thing; With enough time and effort, one could build enormous automated machinery the likes of which only ancient cities could dream of, or massive massive automatrons built to farm or fight and so much more. All the same, some technological advances had yet to be properly invented. Weather patterns were guesswork at best, the only indication of what was to come being the direction of wind and the enormity of clouds.
Going to a land resemblant of the jaws of some terrible crystal beast, with unspeakable mountains of snow and ice accompanied by sharp blue fang-like ice formations jutting from the ground at every corner? Of course they’d come expecting danger. Of course they’d come expecting flurries of snow and hail. What they had not expected was the days-long blizzard that hit nearly as soon as Jesse, Petra, and Ivor arrived to the location.
It was not something they had prepared to face. The dread set in as soon as this fact had come to its fruition.
Three days passed. The cave they sought shelter in was small, a branching off from the larger cave they’d discovered in a revine in the ice on the surface. Food was running low past the point of alarm, fuel for the fire was nearly nonexistent at this point. No fire meant no melting ice for water. No fire meant no warmth; therefore, death. The storm above them refused to let up, howling wind occasionally reverberating through the caves like the wicked laughing of a beast.
So there they sat, Petra and Ivor, staring longingly into the weakening embers of the fire as they waited to be devoured by the icy maw of the earth.
They’d both agreed behind Jesse’s back. They were not going to make it out of this alive. Amends were made, both verbally and mentally, words thought of that would never be spoken to the New Order or anyone else.
In fleeting moments, it wasn't out of place for Petra to feel death watching her from around the corner. To fear it like the wolf snapping at her heels, and to think of it as something that could be evaded with luck and precision. For most of these encounters, she wasn't wrong, as the difference between life and death- between bounty and starvation -was often a chase. Now it was different. Now she sat right In its den, Death prowling in the corners of her vision, licking its chops hungrily as she waited for the end. It was then she decided that the greatest dread was not death, but the fear of death and the waiting games in which it played.
Because she didn't want to think about it anymore. She was tired of regretting and contemplating their fate. She wanted it to be over.
Ivor's face being blank as it was, it was best assumed he'd been thinking the same.
He’d had his retribution already. He was old, tired, only slightly less bitter than he'd been before. With his glory days behind him, it had been decided that if now was his time, he wouldn't run.
Because Magnus couldn't run. Everyone else who'd met an end at the cruel touch of the Witherstorm could only pray desperate prayers that would go unanswered just like his, because the gods were dead and the Witherstorm had killed them.
Jesse’s face was just barely illuminated in warm light as she laid close to the fire, curled around it like a cat to absorb as much of the warmth as she could. She’d barely said a word to the other two in the past few hours. Despite it, a hopeful look had been set in her eyes from the moment they had crawled into what was soon to be their grave.
One hour more and the fire was out. Jesse was asleep, Ivor leaning against a wall by the entrance of the cave and Petra sitting on her own somewhere between them, all of them embraced by the darkness and its chill. The only thing that opposed complete blackness were the glowing vials set about the floor, two or three sloppily spilling from Ivor's bag. Some had been moved across the room, Petra assumed to act as nightlights. Yet their glow was faint, just enough to highlight the silhouettes of stalagmites and crevices in the frozen cave. Light was the only good the potions would offer them now. If any one of them would have allowed them escape, the three of them would have been home two days prior. All that remained were either useless, or would speed up the inevitable process of death.
Petra decided against grabbing the nearby poison vial, the only one which lacked iridescence. It wouldn't be long now.
Petra counted her blessings. Her time with the order, the warm feeling that came with reading her ten-cent novels, happy puppies, Jesse. Sweet Jesse. She’d move over to her soon. If they were going to die, Petra was going to die beside the one person she loved most.
Ivor counted his, but his mind only allowed for the remembrance of one thing: The New Order. Their laughs over the table at dinner, the endless energy and joy of their youth, Jesse’s compassion, her smiles as warm as summer sun that gave him a twinge of purpose when they were shone his way…
Then, something miraculous happened.
The words, in a vigorous act of defiance, willed themselves into existence, crawling from Ivor's throat in a husky tone before he'd had time to think about them. “We’re not dying here. We can’t die here.”
Petra ignored the words, just cocking her head at him. Denial stage, she thought.
Ivor stood up suddenly, pacing toward her in short but quick steps and lifting her by her arms without warning, bringing Petra to a standing position. She looked as rattled as he did. There was a certain look in his eyes that threw her back to their first meeting in the alley; it was the look of a madman. A highly determined madman. “Everything she’s done for us, and we’re giving up? We’re letting ourselves die?” Ivor pointed accusingly with a gloved hand to Jesse’s sleeping form. “We’re letting her die?”
Petra stared blankly at him, but her expression was far from empty. Confusion, realization, and the sudden disposition of gnarled acceptance all twisted within her, making her feel light and ill. Settled in the mix was rekindled dread. He was right, wasn’t he? It was awfully selfish of them.
Yet…
“Ivor…” She loosened. His grip on her wrist refused to do the same. “What else are we supposed to do?”
He let go of her wrist, giving her a moment’s relief before his knuckles turned stark white from gripping her hands so tightly with his own. He held their hands up between the two of them as if the answer to everything lied between their intertwined fingers. “We fight.” Ivor spoke to her through gritted teeth. ‘We’ll fight this. We’ll fight like we always have. Every odd has been against us before and we’re still alive!”
For a moment, she remained hopeless. For another, she wasn’t anymore. He wasn’t wrong. What had she survived… Starvation, the witherstorm, all too many monsters and the wounds that came with their merciless attacks… yeah, severe blizzard would be a good addition to the checklist. Maybe they could do this.
Petra felt a heat rising in her against the chill, and suddenly she found herself matching Ivor’s enthusiasm. “You’re... right.” her voice rose in revelation as she spoke. “Fighting is what I’m good at- maybe we can do this.”
“No, no ‘maybe’, No questioning this, we WILL survive!”
Slowly, feelings and thoughts unlike her own began to flood her mind, the heat her core blazing brighter and brighter with every passing moment. She felt these things, determination and passion, uninvited by her mind but welcomed into her soul. They were answers without questions, solutions to an unfathomable dilemma, they were an enclosing force of everything and nothing that surrounded them in the darkness and drove the shadows away. The cave began to glow, everything began to glow, then her body twisted and thoughts began to swirl like ocean currents in a midsummer storm.
What’s happening?
Don’t question this. You know not to question it.
I won't. It feels right. Will we be okay?
The shift was painful, like being burned alive, tempting a scream yet cathartic in a way they had never felt. Petra refused to resist. She accepted the fire in the midst of ice.
More than okay! We will survive!
We will fight- Together!
We will fight! We will FIGHT!
The world was smaller now, insignificant to the beating and burning of her heart, pounding so immensely that it felt as though the earth shook before them.
I will fight!
I WILL FIGHT!
Then the world went white. Not like the unforgiving snow, but a blinding white-hot glow that filled her with raw, pulsing emotion. The glow became blue, then simmered to a heated orange. Power coursed through her- no, them? She wasn’t alone -power they’d never felt before, but something which held the familiarity of a memory. It was natural. It was right. It was everything- they were everything, and a roar pushed itself from their lungs as they came into being, bright flames swirling around them, the world and its tribulations now insignificant to their sheer power. Yes! YES!
They twisted forward violently, planting their claws in the stone as they heaved. They felt so much, every sense tightened, a single touch putting every hair on end. Smoke puffed from her mouth as she breathed heavily, gaining composure. Little by little, their universe cooled, but the fire in her core was bright.
...just as bright as the tiny flame in the center of the cave which had been rekindled with their becoming. Just as bright as Jesse's eyes as she looked at her friends, now one, in wonderment and fear.
They lifted their own gaze to the girl, vision hazy, locks of red-black hair drifting in front of their face. After a moment, they slumped onto their knees.
“Oh my god… I didn't- I didn't think...” Jesse's voice was so tiny, so weak. Pity flared in their heart. She looked up at them wearily. “Who are you?”
The pity stabbed further. “You don't recognize us?”
Then there was sheer terror of their own. Their hands- all four of them -flew up to cover their mouth as their eyes widened. That voice! It wasn't her own! Or was it? It was monstrous, loud and overlapped like a woman and a beast speaking in perfect sync. Slowly, they lifted their hands from their lips, speaking again to test it. “Is this… what I sound like?”
It was. The voice spilled from them again, coarse and powerful. She huffed, a puff of steam forming from her mouth. It was prominent in the cold.
As they continued to face forward, she realized- her hands. There weren't two, but four of them, all tipped with thick nails that may as well have been claws. She looked between them rapidly, then her gaze ran up her arms, lined with stripes which were then cloaked at the elbow by a black robe that ran down to their knees. There was so much of her. Too much to take in. Their arms felt frozen. Her lower set twitched and fiddled with the belt of their robe in a way that was out of her control. Her head began to spin. Why was this happening? What happened to Petra and Ivor?
Keep it together. Keep it together. You must fight.
Just like that, her lower arms rose to match the position of the others. She stretched them one by one, testing their obedience to her will. Yes, they were in control.
“I- I said who are you?” a weak but now determined voice broke the silence once more. They looked up to see that Jesse, still shivering, had grabbed a stone sword from her bag and held it by the hilt in trembling fingers, pointing it at them. The sword was broken by half, but what remained of the blade was still sharp. “You might- might be good. If you're not, I'll- I'll have to hurt you. But I can't do anything until you say something.”
As if she could hurt them. She looked so small, so fragile… their sweet Jesse.
Of course she didn't recognize them. They weren't Ivor, they weren't Petra either. They were…
There was a shifting in their molten core at the question, and very quickly an answer without thought bubbled forth. She was the scent of smoke thick in the air of a hot pine forest. She was the wildfire which burst through thick trunks like a beast on the chase, and the splatter of magma on black stone. Yet, she was the candle on the windowsill. She was the joy of a towering bonfire muffling laughter in the dark woods, She was the warm glow of the fireplace, or the life-giving heat of a campfire. She realized with a pulse of heat in her middle, she was the very concept of flame and beyond that. She was…
“I am... “ She spoke slowly, thinking deeply of her words. “I am the Aspect of Fire.”
A pregnant pause followed her statement. It seemed to hold all meaning, yet none in the world that Jesse could understand.
“That's… that's good.” the girl mumbled. “It was getting really cold. I'm glad you're here.”
Fire Aspect's eyes narrowed. Every one of Jesse's words were so weak, so oddly simple. It was unlike the Jesse they knew. Their Jesse would be leaping in celebration at the fusion of Petra and Ivor, prancing like a playful rabbit around their new form, congratulating them. She was obviously fatigued, sluggish in both her words and the way she held herself, which was only natural in the chill. But this? Looking at Aspect as if she were a stranger? This was different.
Something was very, very wrong. That was now apparent.
Fire Aspect crawled forward, bending down further to meet Jesse's eyes. They were eerily glazed over, and the spark of happiness and life within them was far more faint than it should have been. “Something is wrong with you. Why didn't you say anything?”
“No, I'm fine.” Jesse very obviously lied. “Just tired.”
“You're… burning up.” Fire Aspect's fingers brushed with Jesse's, temperature only slightly cooler from Aspect’s own. The concern was only grounded as she placed a palm on the smaller girl's cheek to find it even warmer. To a living force of flame, it was healthy, but for a human? Not good. Now much closer, Aspect could see that her cheeks were flushed and breaths were labored. “You're sick.” how did that even happen?
“I'm cold…” Jesse placed her hand over Fire Aspect's, leaning into the touch. “You're the one who's warm. Heh.”
Fire Aspect had only existed for a few minutes. That was well established, so it only seemed reasonable that her emotions shifted from one side of the spectrum to another in the blink of an eye. Of course she was empathetic, but a flash of anger outshone the feeling. Jesse was going to die if they didn't get her out of here, and the risk was so much higher now that they'd waited. What the hell were they thinking? Why would Petra and Ivor abandon Jesse like this? Their Jesse! Fire Aspect hated them. She hated this place, and she very well hated hypothermia or whatever else had her sweet Jesse in death's grip.
As promised, she was going to fight it. Jesse's fate was going to meet a fiery end, melted under the heat of her anger.
And her love, too. Such a thing was not to be forgotten. After all, it was all Jesse had shown them and more.
Fire Aspect leaned in further, sharing a pulse of warmth before wrapping her lower arms around her and lifting her with extreme care like a mother lifting her child. She was as light as she was sick. Another hand drifted down to brush a lock of hair from Jesse's face. The girl looked up at her happily, far too unaware.
“Hold on tight, sugar pie."
“Sugar pie”? Seriously?
Not right now!
Fire Aspect snatched Jesse's knapsack, as well as the scattered potions with Ivor's bag and slung the supplies over her shoulder with ease. Leaning down, she launched herself forward and sprinted through the cavern, away from the darkness and toward the blue glow of muffled sunlight on ice. Monsters cowered in their dens as the Aspect of Fire darted past, dodging stalagmites and crevices. In the damp silence. At last, they found themselves at the bottom of a ravine, sickly white light shining down from above and flurries of snow billowing into the stone crack. If not for a rock ledge above them, their exit would have been blocked.
Her heart burned with rage as she set her gaze on the sparking white. It was a poison that had trapped them, nearly choked the life from them- she hated it, too. She hated the whole damn biome. How many had been lost to the frigid maze of icy fangs and the dark tunnels underneath? How many like their innocent Jesse? Ice and fire were crucial to the balance of life, but it did not mean the respective elements were each incapable of cruelty. Right now, Ice took the shape of a villain. It was the warmth and light of life against the chill dark of death.
Fire Aspect- no matter how miniscule in the blinding expanse of white -would win. For Jesse. For herself.
Aspect leapt upward, grabbing the ledge above and launching herself higher as soon as she'd made contact. She leapt again, grabbing another jutting stone only to find herself clawing empty air as she slipped back down. The next ledge had been coating in a thick layer of ice, dusted with snow. The feeling of ice under her claws reminded her of nails on a chalkboard; she cringed, growling in frustration. Jesse was held tighter.
Without even thinking about it, Fire Aspect spit fire at the stone. Their power came as naturally as breathing did. The flames swirled from her maw, roaring distinctly as they reduced the ice to a meager puff of steam, which Aspect found herself smugly proud of. There was no need to repeat the process, as the blast had melted most of the surrounding ice as well.
At last she heaved herself over the edge of the ravine, nearly losing balance and tripping in the snow. Despite her heat, white flakes dotted her hair, as it did Jesse's, who now appeared to be asleep. Again, Aspect brushed the speckles from the girl’s hair and clothing. The heat of rage had receded in favor of caring warmth and determination.
It was time to give back.
Fire Aspect rose to full height and looked eastward. A dark muddled figure stood out against the white mist; it was a spruce tree. Beyond that one would be another, and a few more scattered plants until a tree line was eventually formed. She knew the way home, every twist and turn of it.
With a starting stride, she bounded to the east. Whatever was foolish enough to hold her back would meet and end in her fire.
The temple buzzed like a nest of furious hornets. An odd sight at the time of year, but with good reason. A fusion they'd never seen appearing at the door carrying a sick Jesse was enough to set off plenty of panic. Lukas began to prepare the infirmary, snatching books from Ivor's collection that held special ailments. Lukas was the one to do this not because Ivor was gone, but because he simply did not exist at the moment. Soon he would have to, whether their new fusion liked that fact or not.
The shock of Fire Aspect in general was easily outshone in favor of Jesse. Her ego considered, she wouldn't have wanted it any different. Jesse was the sick one, after all.
And it was well known that some fusions are unstable, sometimes literally, many times, mentally- power that rushes to their heads and disregards moral code or humanity their Atunes may have had. Fire Aspect wasn't one of those fusions. At least, not so far and not most of the time, because while she was arrogant she proved to be equally as loving. She’d refused to let go of Jesse thus far, holding the girl in her lap as preparations were made. Even asleep, Jesse leaned into Fire Aspect's warmth.
Olivia had placed a cool rag on Jesse's head moments earlier with Fire Aspect's permission, not daring to come too close afterward. Aspect took it as a compliment; she was powerful, everything and everyone had a right to fear her. Still, she drifted closely.
Lukas appeared at the door, curling his fingers around the door frame and barely peeking in before making himself known. He was as nervous as Olivia, if not more. “Hey, Fire Aspect. You've done pretty well looking after Jess, but…” he reached back to rest his palm on the side of his neck. “She needs to be in the infirmary. She needs Ivor.”
Some part of Fire Aspect was tempted to whine or grumble, but the noise was held back. She retorted with a nod, looking down at their Jesse with a smile and rubbing her cheek once more. “This is the last you will see of me in a while, little one. I need to unfuse so Ivor can take care of you.”
Fire Aspect didn't get a response, but she didn't need one. Jesse was carefully placed into the arms of Lukas, who took the girl expectantly.
Fusing was one thing and unfusing was another. The question of how exactly to go about it was one hot on their minds even on the sprint home, but just as fusion came naturally to them, the concept of its undoing was not far different. It was the opposite: A split, but not a loss. A storing of unbridled power. A calming of the storm,
Fire Aspect, as she stood, let every muscle in her body relax. Her breaths came deeply and slowly, little focus put into the falling action and rather what was happening inside. She let go of her anger; the winter chill would wrong her no more. They let go of their passion; Jesse was safe. Gradually her core began to cool, the volcano going dormant once again.
Petra and Ivor each had their own purpose. They were each a cog in the great machine that was the Order of the Stone. Fire Aspect was great, graceful, powerful- but without her Atunes’ place in the world, her existence meant nothing. Especially when they were desperately needed. Fire Aspect would have her time again to feel pride, wrath, compassion, and everything else. She would return again to grow, to become arrogant and lovable all the same. Demanding and powerful, but protective and loving of who she deemed fit for the cause.
But now was no longer the time. The feeling of separation was a sorrow one, bathed in a soft glow, but with it came a calmness.
Jesse would be alright. So would Petra and Ivor. It was all thanks to them, after all.
