Embers and Icicles

Chapter Thirteen

"Now that we've got your power free, it's time to see what you can do with it."

Frank didn't like the spark in Silver's eyes as he spoke. He and the ice man were on opposite ends of the lab, staring each other down. Frank wasn't sure what to expect, and Silver was prolonging the tense wait. A drop of sweat squeezed out of Frank's forehead as he readied himself, tugging the cords within himself that connected him to fire and heat.

Silver grinned and flicked his wrist up, pulling an ice shard from the moisture in the air. Before Frank could get a good flame going, Silver flicked the ice at him. It was no longer just a shard, but a glistening knife of frozen water. It was all Frank could do to throw up a wave of heat to incinerate it, inches before it struck his face.

He drew in a sharp breath that sent the rest of his power rolling along his skin. The acrid smell of burning crossed the room in lazy ripples. Frank had never let this part of himself be free before. Even the night when he had let the walls around his power fall, he had just been dipping his toes into the water. Now, he was diving in head-first.

Silver sent another barrage of ice knives at him. He blocked them easily, crafted his own out of fire and sent them back. They volleyed back and forth, and Frank was content to lose himself in the footwork, the ache of magic that was so familiar and yet so new. The two men settled into a pattern, raining weapons on each other with subtle movements and half thoughts, only to have them destroyed just as easily.

Frank would have continued testing the depths of his power for hours if it weren't for a sudden cold in his veins. His heartbeat slowed, and his blood became thick. The cold reached a painful level–he could almost feel frost-like patterns sinking into his skin. His ties to his power thinned until he seized control again, enough to glance up. While he was coated in a fine layer of sweat from the exertion, Silver looked completely unfazed. So the man had more power than he was using. Well, Frank was going to put him in his place.

Frank reached deeper into his store of power, pulled out a blast of heat that shook him free from Silver's grip. Then he was on the offensive. This time, he took a more controlled approach. He focused on every flammable particle he could control in Silver's body, and heated them up one by one. At the same time, he sent fireballs through the air, never allowing Silver to focus on one thing for long.

"Finally," Silver breathed, his lips tipping upwards. Frank couldn't help but smile too. It did feel like he had been waiting a long time for something, and that now the waiting was over.

They burst into another round of more intense sparring, each playing off what the other did, expanding on it. Neither of them pulled any punches, and they didn't need to. Eventually, the fighting turned into an exploration of each other's powers.

Silver let a soft sheet of Frank's heat to wash over him, singing him slightly. He sent a puff of frost back.

"You've been hiding for a long time." The words were a whisper of cold mountain mist. "But hiding isn't enough, is it? Now you know what it is to be more." Silver could feel Frank losing his grip. He wasn't quite so sure anymore. He wasn't as dismissive. Soon, Silver would have him on his team. And what a player to have–what a powerful pawn. A pawn he could eventually crumble, a spark to light on the tendrils of hope, only to rip that joy away.

A knock on the door interrupted. Silver opened the door to find Stanley there, his hands shaking.

"H-hello sir." Stanley chanced a look up from where his gaze was planted on the floor. "The synth is back, sir. They have the elemental you wanted."

Silver allowed himself to relish another victory. Stanley's hands caught his eye. "Why haven't you gotten those cleaned up yet?" There was a mess of ugly scars across his hands, and the skin drooped a bit, like half-melted wax. "Is that from the boiling water? You should have seen a healer."