Chapter 34: The Ministry of Water

As I awaited my fate in the prisons of the Fire Elementals, I started reminiscing about my past life and all the choices that I made that brought me to this point. I thought of a lot of things, mostly memories of my wife and how she would weep when I beat you for failing one of your lessons. I never beat you out of anger, but to impart strength, and yet she called me a hateful brute nonetheless. Only at the end did I realize how right she was. It would’ve been better for you to love me instead of fearing me.

Soon after the party, and after finally getting the gunk out of his hair with a good shower, Ryan found his way to Torsha’s room in the hospital wing of the Crystal Palace. Sitting by the maroon crystal door on the floor was Tork, his scaly legs crossed in front of him as he leaned against the wall snoring loudly. The Dragon had wrapped his leathery wings around himself like a blanket, with only his big, crocodile-like head peeking out. One of his large, spiky ears meshed against the wall, almost acting like a pillow.

How long has he been here waiting on her? thought Ryan.

Ryan tried not to wake Tork as he stepped towards the door, but the Dragon suddenly snorted, and came to his feet with a flutter of his wings.

“Pyro Hands.,” said Tork, yawningly and exposing rows of razor-sharp fangs as his huge mouth stretched open wide enough to bite off a man’s face. “Ryan, by Jove. What are you doing here at this hour, old boy.”

Ryan eyed the Space Dragon skeptically. “I could ask the same of you.”

Tork twiddled his thumbs in front of him nervously. “Oh, boulder dash. You probably think I’m a right fool for the way I’ve swooned over this girl. But when I heard that she was hurt ... I ... I couldn’t help myself. I felt ... I felt that she needed looking after. Don’t ask me how I knew. We Dragons just have a way of knowing when we’re needed. At least being partially related to our line, even if it is through our Saurian cousins, I think you can understand in part.”

As Ryan thought about it and realized the veracity of such a statement. There were times when he just knew he needed to act and he couldn’t explain why, like that time when he saved Éclair from Silvia’s dagger. There was even that time that he knew of the bouncy grass that saved Éclair and him from their fall off the cliff.

“I think I know a little of what you mean,” admitted Ryan. “But still, Torsha’s not really in danger, or at least not anymore, right?”

Tork looked down, wiping the last vestiges of sleep from his orange eyes. “It’s not ... not danger that I was protecting her from. It’s just ... I felt I needed to be here for her. I know it sounds silly. I couldn’t even work up the nerve to walk through that door. But when ... when we bond with someone emotionally, we know when they need us. Oh, I know it sounds like poppycock to you. Like I ever bonded with that girl to begin. From all the shenanigans I pulled in her presence, she probably thinks I’m off my rocker.”

Ryan smiled sympathetically, reaching up and patting Tork on his winged shoulder. Even with Ryan’s recent growth spurt, Tork was still much taller than him. In fact, it seemed that Tork had grown a little as well. He used to be around seven feet tall, but now he looked closer to eight feet.

“I know a thing or two about acting out for the girl I like. Trust me, you haven’t embarrassed yourself half as badly as the way I’ve embarrassed myself in front of Éclair.”

Tork looked down at Ryan, returning the smile. “It’s maddening, isn’t it? How do you keep soldiering on the way you do? I’ve only known this pain for the brief time that I’ve known Torsha, but you’ve bore for it over a year now, maybe even longer. No matter how much Éclair spurns your affections, you never let it keep you down.”

Ryan winced a little, his own hurt and loneliness rising within him. “I’m just good at hiding how much it hurts. I learned a long time ago to not let too many things embarrass me. I had to because, otherwise, I’d be purple all the freaking time. And, deep down, I know Éclair will probably never feel the way I feel about her. Heck, with all the grief I’ve given her, I wouldn’t be surprised if she hates me.”

Tork reached down and flicked Ryan’s nose with his clawed finger, causing him to recoil back. The power in that one finger alone was astounding. Though his actions were harsh and unexpected, that gentle smile never left Tork’s muzzle.

“If I may say so, old bean, that’s a load of codswallop,” said the Dragon.

He then put both hands on Ryan’s shoulder and leaned down. As he did so, his wings stretched down to either side of Ryan, enfolding him in a beautiful encirclement of golden scales. The wings glistened protectively around Ryan like a comforting shroud, sparkling with power and warmth.

“Even a blind man can see the love Éclair has for you. Perhaps not the same kind of love you have for her, but no one is more fiercely devoted to you as a friend than she is. She’s doted on you since you first came to the Ministry. Protected you from Gregory’s mercenaries. And most importantly, she talks to you openly the way one talks to a dear friend. I’ve known Lady Éclair for a good while now. She does not give her trust to anyone easily. But she gave it freely to you almost immediately. Even if you can’t have her as a woman, you can have her as a friend, and that is a blessing that few can boast.”

Ryan looked down, ashamed for feeling sorry for himself. “Thanks, Tork. I needed to hear that.”

Tork nodded, and lifted his wings from their encirclement. Ryan was almost sad to no longer be in the protective and gentle wall of Tork’s wings. He usually felt claustrophobic in enclosed spaces, but being enfolded in a Dragon’s wings seemed like the opposite.

Tork no longer seemed confidant and sage-like as he shuffled back nervously from the door. “Well, then. Stiff up the lip. Why don’t you go fuss over someone who deserves it instead of a bleating charlatan like me.”

“Oh, come on, Tork. You can’t stand out here like a goober forever. Come inside and talk to her like a normal human being. Oh, sorry. I mean Dragon being. Or Wolf being I guess.” Ryan took Tork’s hand and tried to usher him inside, but the big Space Dragon wouldn’t budge an inch.

Tork chuckled nervously. “I still don’t have as much courage as you, Pyro Hands. I ... I wouldn’t even know what to say to her.”

“Why not just start with hi, and work your way from there,” said Ryan encouragingly. Tork still hesitated, so Ryan pressed on. “She’s just a girl ... well, a wolf girl I guess. But she’s a person no different from you or me. Or, at least, no different in the ways that matter most. Just talk to her. She’s actually really nice and approachable. Even if she doesn’t feel the same way as you, she’d probably still be happy to call you friend. I know I am.”

Tork still held back, but reluctantly, allowed Ryan to lead him forward into the room.

By the way he’s acting, you’d think I was leading him to his own execution.

Torsha the Werewolf sat up in her bed reading floating white letters from a holopad in her lap. Her blonde mane came over her short snout like bangs, and she wore a blue, hospital gown that no less diminished her feminine figure. Even if she was a Werewolf, her figure was woman-like enough to make her seem beautiful to Ryan. He didn’t know if that made him a furry or not, but for Torsha, he didn’t really care. When they came in, she switched the holopad off, threw up her covers, and came to Ryan in a single leap. Unabashedly, Torsha drew Ryan into a deep hug, her tail wagging furiously. Torsha was not very tall. In fact, she was quite a bit shorter than Ryan. But by the Caretaker, the wolf girl was strong for her size. He was afraid that her condition made her fragile, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

Losing his breath briefly, Ryan returned the hug just as fiercely.

Torsha laughed and drew away. “About time you came to see me, my little boogie boo! Glad to know that crazed Saurian didn’t rip you in half!”

Ryan grunted. “Grafael was ... was not himself. Wait, how did you –”

“I was watching with the Fire Minister. That’s when I...” Torsha trailed off, hesitating for some reason. “Well, it’s not important. What is important is that you’re here!”

Ryan stepped back and gestured to Tork. “And I’m not the only one.”

Tork rubbed his arm nervously. “Si-Sister Torsha, Servant of the Light. We’ve encountered each other several times, but I fear I’ve neglected to properly introduce myself. My name is-”

“Tork, right? Tork of Sora” asked Torsha bemusedly. “Yeah, you’re that weird, jittering Dragon that’s always looming around Squad 99.”

Tork looked away ashamedly. The scales on his face started going purple and Ryan really felt for his friend. He wanted to reproach Torsha to be more gentle with Tork, but her next action silenced him.

Torsha stepped forward, a small, blonde form of fur against the bulk of the orange-scaled Tork who towered over her. Despite the size difference, Torsha stood unafraid, but Tork acted like he wanted to crawl under her bed. Then Torsha reached and took Tork’s big, clawed hand with both her lightly furred paws. He flinched at her touch, but she held him firm, almost like she prevented him from pulling his hand away.

“I was hoping you’d come in eventually. I wanted to thank you for staying close by all this time. Before I sensed your presence outside the door, I had horrible nightmares from ... from the incident. I couldn’t get any sleep even though the doctors told me to rest. But when you came and waited outside the door, your presence felt so comforting that I finally went back to sleep, and the nightmares never came back. You drove them away somehow. I don’t know how you did, but thank you.”

Ryan stood slack-jawed and Tork’s face more or less mirrored his own. Then Tork’s face became composed and calm, like the way he looked when he was giving Ryan advice. Tork carefully came down to one knee, still holding Torsha’s hand.

“From what I know of your people, Werewolves don’t do well when they are forced to live alone. You need a pack, someone to watch over you in the night during the hunt. When they tire, you watch over them in turn. I hear that this cooperation is especially needed after troubling events. I know I am no substitute for your people, but so long as you are Ryan’s friend and teacher, I consider you a part of my pack.”

Torsha giggled, and then she stroked Tork’s horns tenderly, causing Ryan’s jaw to drop even further. “I never thought I’d call a Dragon a packmate. I always wanted to know what it would be like to hunt with my people, but I think I’d prefer the pack that chose me instead of the one that left me.”

Torsha then grabbed the Tork’s horn and jerked him forward forcibly until they were nose to nose. A low growl came from her, but it was not threatening, or at least Ryan didn’t interpret the growl as a threat. It sounded different from the way the male Werewolf had growled at him. However, the growl did seem to convey something else as Torsha grinned hungrily, showing off her glistening fangs.

“I should warn you, though. You may not be ready for what I mean by packmate.”

Tork shied away only briefly from Torsha’s excitement, but then returned her grin, revealing his own fangs which were even more impressive than her own.

Ryan became increasingly uncomfortable, feeling like he was witnessing something that was none of his business. There was even a hint of danger in the air as the two predators continued to stare at each other, both grinning voraciously. Tork started growling lowly, almost identically to Torsha’s own growl. Even though they weren’t the same species, they were both carnivores, and what they wanted to eat in that moment was each other.

Ryan cleared his throat awkwardly, and his two ravenous friends looked at him in a daze, as if noticing that he was there for the first time. “Yeah, I’m still here. Thank you for the nightmares that this will invoke.”

“Aww, my poor little boogie boo feels left out,” said Torsha jokingly as she moved past Tork and squeezed Ryan’s cheeks in that infuriating manner of hers. “Don’t worry, Ryan. You’ll always be my favorite mostly human, but kind of Dragon. But I guess you just weren’t ... Dragon enough for me.”

Ryan pushed her hand away, stifling a blush of purple embarrassment. “We’re getting off tangent! What happened to land you here in the first place?”

Torsha’s once perky ears drooped visibly. “Well, that’s ... you see, that’s a complicated story. And I don’t think it’s mine to tell.”

“What, why not?”

“Because I’m the one who put her here,” said a new female voice.

Ryan spun around to see Saria standing in the open doorway. The Fire Minister’s robes were as resplendent as ever, but there was something decidedly muted about her once fiery presence. Her face was turned away, partially obscured by the bangs of her brown hair.

Ryan couldn’t understand what he was hearing. He turned to Torsha for confirmation, the Werewolf’s ears drooping even lower as she backed away from the Minister as if ... as if she were afraid of her.

Tork, still utterly confused by these events, bowed awkwardly to the Minister. “My Lady, Minister.”

Saria raised Tork’s head before he finished his bow. “Please ... please don’t call me ‘my Lady’.” Even her voice seemed deflated from its former glory.

“Minister Kaves, I ... I don’t understand,” stuttered Ryan, his world crumbling to pieces. “How ... why?”

“It wasn’t her fault,” explained Torsha nervously. “She was ... being controlled by dark forces.”

“Controlled,” repeated Ryan in confusion. Then he remembered what Saria had told both him and Grafael. That they’d both been manipulated.

It was only then that Saria raised her head to look at Torsha. “That’s no excuse. I have lived several lifetimes. I was charged with your protection as readily as if you were one of my own. I should’ve been able to –”

Torsha stepped forward, and the Minister flinched back, as if she wanted to retreat. Torsha regarded her warily, but still held her ground.

“Child, I owe you my thanks for helping to release me from the darkness. And my apologies. Is there any way you can ever forgive me for what I did to you?” pleaded the Minister stiffly.

Torsha smiled kindly, her ears perking up and her tail wagging slightly as she put a fist to her chest, offering the Elemental’s salute. “There is nothing to forgive, my Lady Minister. I am only glad for the opportunity to serve you in the fight against the darkness.”

They keep saying darkness. In all my life, I’ve only ever known one true darkness. Could they mean...

Did you really think I was only a voice in your head?

Ryan stiffened. It had been a long time since he heard the dark voice. Not since the Ministry War almost a year ago.

“Ryan, are you okay,” asked Tork.

Ryan realized that they were all looking at him. What expression did he have on his face that made them so worried?

Ryan put on a practiced smile, waving his hands to assuage their worries. “Fine! I’m fine! I just ... freeze sometimes without warning. It’s a new quirk called the freezing in the middle of a conversation quirk.”

Ryan continued to wear a reassuring expression even though he felt like crawling in a corner and crying at the return of the dark voice.

I said it once and I’ll say it again, thought Ryan to the voice. You don’t own me! You never will! I’ll find you and kill you, whatever you are! You’ll never hurt anyone else, including Saria or Torsha. Do you hear me?

The voice did not respond, but Ryan thought he could a sadistic chuckle in the back of his mind, though fading so rapidly that he couldn’t be sure.

“At any rate,” said Saria, studying Ryan carefully. “It’s very clear that whatever this Dark Force is, it’s very interested in you, Ryan. Whether to kill you or use you, I really don’t know at this point.”

“I don’t care what he wants with me, because I’ll kill him before he can try it,” mumbled Ryan under his breath.

He didn’t think the Minister heard him, but he knew that Torsha did with her sharp ears as her canine eyes shifted to him in concern.

“Did you say something, First?” asked Saria pointedly.

“Only that I serve this Ministry, and you, ma’am. Tell me how we can fight this thing, and I’ll do it,” said Ryan resolutely, coming to attention.

Saria nodded absently. “That’s partially the reason that I’m here. We’re taking on more Monks from the Monastery. They, like Torsha, are being assigned to you and the other members of Squad 99 for security.”

“The rest of Squad 99, too,” asked Ryan. “I thought this thing wanted me?”

“It does, but you’re not the only one it came after. It got to you through Grafael. And I have reason to believe that there are others in your squad that it wants just as badly.”

“What others?” asked Ryan, though he could probably guess without asking.

“That’s not important right now,” said Saria, her commanding presence returning to accentuate that the matter was not open for discussion. “What is important is whether or not you’re prepared to continue your participation in the exams with this threat looming. We have strong reasons to believe that whatever the enemy’s plans are, they will come full swing during the exam itself. If you wish to bow out, no one will fault you. You’ll be sent back to Tarrus with the full protection of the Ministry at your disposal.”

“My Lady, I chose to live as an Elemental,” said Ryan without hesitation.

Ryan stood at attention. All joviality had been driven from him as soon as he learned the Dark Creature was involved somehow. He didn’t usually act this serious, but he needed the Minister to know that he had no doubts in this.

“Elementals live a harsh life. A dangerous life. If I cowered and hid when things get difficult, Eramar would be sorry that he ever bothered to train me. Besides, this is in line with an Elemental’s duty. Elementals adapt to change. Elementals seek out the truth when they can. So as an Elemental of the Ministry of Fire, that is exactly what I intend to do.”

Saria smiled nostalgically, pride shimmering in her regal features. “Well spoken, First. At the very least, we can give you the tools to prepare you for the trials to come.”

Saria waved a hand behind her. To Ryan’s surprise, Thisimius lumbered in through the doorway. His round belly bounced slightly as he squeezed through the threshold that was slightly too narrow for him.

“Thisy?” said Ryan questioningly.

“How it be, laddie?” said the Ogre with a toothy grin. “Looking lively as always, I see, ye wee little sprite. I ken you didn’t expect to see me again so soon.”

“I’ve called Thisimius to help oversee your training before the finals,” explained Saria, stepping back to make room for Thisimius.

“I’ll also be taking a gander at yer weapons and armor. Up until now, ya’ve only used yer equipment at the level of First’s destructive capabilities. With a wee bit o’ tinkering, we may be able to get that up to Level Two or higher. Though, for you, Level Four would nary be enough, I wager.”

Ryan still didn’t fully understand what Saria meant about Thisimius overseeing his training. “But – and don’t take this the wrong way – how the crap is Thisimius going to oversee my training? Last I checked, he wasn’t an Elemental ... or even a Monk like Torsha. He doesn’t have any psions, at least not any Elemental ones, so how could he teach me how to control mine.”

Thisimius took a lumbering step forward, and tapped Ryan in the gut, causing him to recoil in pain. “Oy! Look who kens everything already? Laddie, how you supposin’ Ogres became near fireproof to begin with?”

Thisimius then thrust his gray, bulbous hand in front of Ryan. At first, Ryan just stared at Thisy’s fat fingers in confusion as nothing happened. Then, smoke began to rise from the Ogre’s hands as heat emanated from his fingertips. To Ryan’s astonishment, glowing red hot beads of lava boiled up from the Ogre’s pores like sweat. Ryan stepped back as tiny droplets of magma hit the floor near his feet, sizzling into the pink crystalline surface.

“Son of a biscuit,” gasped Ryan, appraising Thisimius more thoughtfully. “You can do the lava sweat thing too.”

“We usually call it magma, but I’ll forgive ye for the distinction,” said Thisimius, rubbing his palms together, and the lava fizzled out of existence. “Erupters we were called. The first to discover it, just like the Dragons like the young’un Tork here were the first to discover Fire Elemency, and became natural flamers. Tis also a handy skill for a blacksmith to have, ya ken. Ye made great strides on your own, but yer only a knocking on the door, laddie. With me help, mayhaps ye can walk in and take a gander.”

“I wasn’t on my own,” protested Ryan briskly. “Torsha was the one who helped me discover it. I wouldn’t have even known I could be an Erupter without her help. Can she come oversee my training too?”

Torsha shot Ryan a bashful smile, seeming embarrassed for one of the few times since he met her.

“She will, laddie. She will,” assured Thisimius ushering Torsha forward with a massive hand. “After all, she’s been workin’ with ya a bit longer than I have, at least recently.”

Thisimius turned a big eye towards Torsha appraisingly. “It’s up to ye to soften up me touch. I haven’t had students in a while, but the Minister persuaded me, she did. Will ya help me out so I don’t end up biting the laddie’s head off when he gets too uppity?”

“It would be my pleasure and my honor, Master Ogre,” said Torsha with a polite curtsy.

Thisy drew himself up, beaming with pride. “Oh, Master Ogre, is it? Ye could ken a thing or two about manners from this lassie. Never would’ve taken one of the Lycanthropes for such a sweet lass. Course, Mozar did spoil me a bit to yer kind. Right grumpy mutt, he was. Never laughed at any of me jokes, even the ones that really were funny.”

Mozar, thought Ryan. Why does that name sound so familiar?

“With the Minister’s permission, could Ryan and I begin our training now?” asked Torsha respectfully. “I have a few techniques of my own I wished to show him.

“As soon as the doctors clear you, my dear,” said Saria, her respect and affection for Torsha evident despite the order. “I don’t want you up and about until you’ve had all the rest you need.”

Torsha looked like she wanted to argue, but then thought better of it. “Of course, My Lady Minister.”

As Saria strode out with Thisimius following behind, she grumbled, “Why does everyone feel the need to call me that no matter how many times I tell them not to?”