The Fyre Chronicles Chapter 30



The Fyre Chronicles

Chapter 30

Santuric looked up at the fight above, and so did everyone else in the room. Sates were standing with his mouth open, probably filled with awe from the violent energies being unleashed above, the importance of this skirmish. Deff had stopped fighting too. He was just standing there, head hanging, eyes closed. Like a toy robot without the batteries. Santuric looked at the Master, sitting in his throne, watching the battle. He considered attacking him, now when he was distracted. But Santuric knew that there was no way he could ever match his power. Santuric stared at him for a little while, while flickers of light from above cast many shadows on his wrinkled face. But then he moved. He raised his right hand towards source of the red beam, and Santuric could see Yce gathering in his palm. He was going to attack him. He was going to make the fight uneven.

Santuric desperately searched his mind for something to do, when a character leapt out from the shadows behind the throne. Santuric recognized him right away, the orange cloak and the long white beard. It was Firr. He leapt up the steps of the throne so he was standing right in front of the Master. The Master looked at Firr with shock in his eyes, and then lowered his still charging hand towards him. But Firr was faster and planted his hand square in the Masters face. A red light began to shine from between Firrs fingers. The Master began to scream, a low agonized scream. Santuric could only watch, horrified. He had heard the legend about Firr and the Master. Was he going to do what he thought he was going to do? Firr looked over his shoulder at Santuric. “It’s yours to take care of now.” He said just a second before disappearing in a flash of bright light. Santuric was blinded for a few seconds, and when he regained his vision, the only thing he saw was a smoking pile of broken Yce. Neither Firr nor the Master was anywhere to be seen.



Sup stopped her ray of Yce right after the bright flash had ended. All logic in me told me to push on now and finish it, but I still stopped. I looked at her. For a moment the blue light coming from her seemed to flicker, and then it died and she fell from the sky. I don’t know why, but somewhat acting by instinct, I Fyre’d me to a spot a little below her. I turn down the Fyre around me to just around my head, only a moment before her limp body fell into my arms. She was passed out and the lines on her skin were gone. But her right hand was still charred. I carefully hovered into the tower again, through the hole in the ceiling. I noticed that the Master was gone, and so was the throne, but I was not really surprised. I had felt it when that flash ended. Like a strong cold that had lied like a blanked on the world had been lifted. I touched down and put Sup down. Santuric and Sates came over with a limp Deff hanging from between them.

Santuric explained what had happened, how Firr had sacrificed himself and how the battle was over. How they had won. After a little while Deff woke up. He was looking around confused, like he had no memory of him fighting Sates and Santuric. “Wai, wha…?” he mumbled and looked at us with dazed eyes. “You were under the control of the Yce” Santuric explained “But you’re free now.” The other two spent a while getting Deff up to speed, but I just sat and watched Sup, passed out on the floor. But then, with no warning, her eyes opened at looked at me frightened. She scrambled to her feet and summoned an Yce dagger to her hand. “What are you doing?!” she half yelled, half screamed. She looked around the room, spotting the pile of Yce where the throne had been “What have you done?!” We all looked at her in silence while she figured it out. It seemed she had no memory from before she had been infused by the Master. “Have you… killed him?” she said in a much softer and curious tone. “Have you… Set me free?”

Two weeks later

The rebuilding process for the HQ went well. Busy people ran everywhere, mending damages and whatnot. The Fyre was making a comeback; new recruits came in every day. Santuric had been appointed leader of the faction and Sates was now a general, currently off training a batch of recruits. I saw Deff run past me, on his way down the hall. He had recovered fully but was still just a Fyre user. We had also found out why he had been missing sometimes. It seemed that he had found a girl, somewhere in Ireland or something.

Myself, I was still the chosen one. It was my task to maintain the balance between the Fyre and the Yce. You see, Sup and I had formed an alliance. Yeah, some people still harbored hate for the other faction, Shaw for instance, but it seemed that things were going to be much more peaceful now. We were also working on forming a council that would try to ensure the balance of the world, consisting of members from both the Fyre and the Yce. We called this council Tempest.

I walked quietly around the busy HQ, silently watching people as they hurried by. All the latest events had actually taught me something. It had taught me why I was the chosen one. I was because I alone could have made that choice I had made when all hope had seemed lost. Where others might have given up, I chose to keep on fighting, and that’s why the Fyre had chosen me. I Fyre’d a clock in front of me, numbers and letters made out of stings of Fyre, floating in front of me. It was 11:32 AM on the 7th of January 2006. I had things to do so I took a last look around the place, working people all around. The future seemed like it was going to work out just fine. I felt the Fyre surround me, filling my vision, roaring in my ears. If anyone would have been looking at me, they would have seen me bursting into a ball of flame and then disappearing. The fight was done, but there was no reason not to still Fyre on!



See also

The Fyre Chronicles

San Ting