Starting Fires

Day 1
August 3, 2010

"Magic is a use made available by an advanced brain," Titan explained, leading us down the tunnel to the right. "The more of your brain you use, the more powerful your magic. Magic is regulated by an energy, sort of a stamina, called Mana. Some big spells take a lot of Mana which can lead to having to use small to no spells for a while until you regain your strength. But enough of that; I need to free your mind a bit so that you can use magic. Right now, as a normal human being, you use about 10 percent of your brain. The average mage can use about 50."

"A mage?" I asked. I knew what it was, I just expected wizard or sorcerer.

"Yes, a mage," the impatient General sighed. "It's a step above sorcerer and a class under wizard." Well there you go. "Most magic-users are magi. What I'm about to do is wake up parts of your brain to get your Mana flowing. Let me just find the spell." He turned to his wrist-pad.

"What is that thing, anyways?" I asked, still getting used to being the "hero" of whatever the hell in which this guy was involved.

"This is a Tactical Gauntlet," Titan mumbled as he flipped through his digital library of spellbooks. "The Tac-G is basically a little military computer on my wrist that also controls my grenade launcher, wrist-blade, and other such wired-in weapons. Ah, here we are." He pressed his thumb and forefinger on each of my temples and mouthed a set of words. When he was finished, I felt refreshed and... stronger somehow. He repeated this with Harrison.

"So now what do we do with our magic?" I asked, looking at my hands.

"Well, we need to find out what kind of mage you are," Titan stated. "Harrison's definitely an Aeromancer. Those guys are strong and resourceful, but dumb as soup." Harrison scrunched his nose at that, but decided not to pursue the argument. "You, Liam, I'd take as a Pyromancer. Hot-headed brutes with a bit of a soft side and a love for fighting. Cast a quick spell why don't you."

Harrison held out his right hand and a small tornado started to suck in all the dust in the tunnel.

"Aeromancer it is," Titan observed.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on using my new powers, summoning my Mana to my own right hand. What emerged was a ball of pure light, as bright as the sun in the sky.

"A Solarmancer?" Titan scoffed. "Are you sure you're not an Elementalist?"

I tried my left hand, but a ball of light emerged there as well.

"Would not have guessed that," the Marine muttered, typing his notes into his Tac-G. "But I guess you have to fight a war with a man to know who he really is. Come on, then. Now that I know what you are, I can outfit you according to Atlantean standards."

We continued down the tunnel until we reached a large cave absolutely filled with weaponry: from swords to assault rifles, spears to submachine guns, knifes to snipers. It was a gun nut's wet dream.

"Aeromancers are pretty straightforward when it comes to armament," Titan said, picking up a rather large apparatus. "The Wind magi prefer a good old-fashioned rocket launcher. What I have here is an FGM-148 Javelin. Normally, it only locks on to thermal or vehicle signatures, but this is tweaked to lock the missile on to any enemy signal, be it a foot-soldier or a tank."

Harrison accepted the heavy weapon, examining it with glee.

"Solarmancers like to keep their options open," Titan went on. "Typically, they prefer submachine guns, but they'll use anything that can be used as a weapon. To save you the trouble of picking from the rocket launcher category, I'll have another one of those Javelins prepared because that is one fine piece of weaponry right there. For your submachine gun, I think I'll let you choose. You play first-person shooters, yes?"

"Yeah," I muttered, looking at the rack of compact guns. I could have an Uzi, or an AK-74u, or an MP5. But one particular SMG caught my attention. I recognized it as my favorite weapon I had ever fired in a video game: the Soviet PPSh-41.

"That ratty old thing?" Titan asked as I took the dusty gun off of the wall. "Well, whatever floats your boat. Now, for your assault rifle, I'll give you the Atlantean standard-issue M16A4. How do you feel about the M249 SAW?"

"That's about the only Light Machine Gun I'll ever be able to identify," I replied, chuckling.

"That'll change in the future," Titan said, adding the large gun to the pile on the table in front of me. "But I think that it's a damn fine gun. Now, what about shotguns?"

"The one I have is fine," I sighed.

"You sure do like old-arse weapons, don't you?" he mumbled, moving on. "Sniper rifles: we have the Dragunov, M40, M14, Barrett M82A1--"

"Barrett M82A1?" I asked, recognizing the name of that gun. "The .50 caliber rifle? Sure." The activity down here had taken my mind off of my guilt on killing those Germans back on the road. My shoulder did still ache from the recoil of the 10-gauge shotgun, though.

"Now for your standard-issue gear," Titan continued, picking up a pair of handguns identical to the one he had pulled on me in the library. "This is a Desert Eagle, seven round magazine, chambered in .50 Action Express. That's one big bullet. This pistol you use in short-range jobs like clearing tight hallways or... persuasion." He handed us each a Deagle and turned to pick up something else. "You also carry a .44 Magnum revolver for... duels. There's a choice between the Colt Anaconda and the Smith & Wesson Model 29."

"Anaconda," Harrison said, grinning at the name. It was probably because he would never be able to keep track of a name like Model 29, and everybody loves snake names.

"I'll take the Model 29," I replied. "It is the most powerful handgun in the world, after all."

Titan tossed the bulky revolver to Harrison and handed me the more slender gun, appreciating my reference.

"So what's with the duels?" I asked, examining the automatic and the revolver in each of my hands.

"Well, duels are used to settle disputes between two enemy forces," Titan explained. "In order to avoid unnecessary bloodshed, each side sends someone in to a one-on-one battle on a closed course with only their revolver and six shots. Whoever kills the other is the winner and his force wins the battle, occupying whatever they were originally fighting about and the losing force retreats with no challenge."

"And we're supposed to fight in those?" Harrison grumbled, waving the weapons about like a damn fool.

"In theory, yes," came the frank response. "We just outfit all Marines with revolvers just in the off-chance they get selected for a duel. You'll also need some knives." He approached a different table and pulled up a pair of wicked-looking blades. "This is the Ka-Bar combat knife. Used for extremely close-quarters combat only, nearly useless in most situations, but I'll be damned if you couldn't cut a man's heart in half with this fine little blade." Noticing our hands were full, he laid the knives back on the table. "You may also want to learn how to throw a knife because that's what we use the Blackhawk Tatang for." What he pulled out next was a more aerodynamic blade, serrated on the cutting edge with a curved hilt.

"I really don't think I'll be able to throw a knife all that accurately," I stated, biting my lip. "Is the probability of me using that the same as getting myself into a duel?"

"About that, yeah," Titan replied, placing the new knives next to the Ka-Bars. "But don't you feel better knowing you're prepared? Anyways, the next knife is mostly for show, but if you find yourself in the need, you can always turn to the good old-fashioned Bowie Knife." It was much like an over-sized Ka-Bar with a knuckleduster on the hilt. "It's basically the .50 cal of knives. Like I said, when you use a knife, it's usually going to be the Ka-Bar, but if you're not in the killing mood, just run at someone holding the Bowie Knife and they'll beat feet faster than a jackalope." He took two of those and lay them down next to the other four knives.

"So where do we put all this?" I asked, gesturing with the pistols.

"I should get you uniforms," the Marine said. "A set of utilities should carry all that for you. This way." Further into the cave was a rack of uniforms, all different colors, apparently denoting different elements for magi and neutral grey-green for those not affiliated with an element.

Harrison was given a green uniform, as he was an Aeromancer, green being the color of the Guild of Air magic. I received a white one as white was the color of the Light Guild of Solarmancers. We were given a moment to don the tunics, trousers, boots, then jackets. On the jackets were plenty of pouches, holsters, and such.

"Now you can put on your equipment," Titan stated, turning back to face us.

We walked over and, under the General's instruction, placed our equipment where it belonged. The Desert Eagle went in a holster on our chest, the Ka-Bar went in a sheath on our left hip, the Blackhawk Tatang went in a pouch hidden inside our right boot, the Bowie knife went in a sheath on the back over our left kidney. The revolver went in a holster around our knee as there was an empty one on our thigh.

"Why's that holster there?" I asked, pointing to the vacant space.

"That's there for an M1911," came the reply from our Cockney gun nut. "You'll earn that later on. I did many years ago. Of course you'll probably get a newer model. What I got was an original, made all the way back in 1911 and still in perfect condition."

That being said, Harrison and I collected our armaments. He took his Javelin and slung it over his shoulder, nearly falling over from the weight of the giant weapon. I simply put the shoulder strap of my PPSh-41 around my back and adjusted it so that the gun was swinging at my hip.

"Liam, you could probably take a second gun if you want," Titan pointed out.

I nodded and grabbed my M16A4 and put the strap over the same shoulder as my SMG, only I adjusted the rifle so that it was across my back instead of ready at my hip.

"Now is the fun part," the General said, ironically frowning. "Liam, you are our hero, and you'll need a hero's weapon." At the back of the cave was a large metal vault no visible way to open it, just a blue screen in the center of the door.

Titan held his Tac-G up to the door and typed in some sort of code, then let it sit for a minute before the door swung open. Inside were two weapons: a spear made of titanium and a grand claymore sitting in its sheath.

"Harrison, you take the spear," Titan commanded. "We really don't know what else to do with it and you're an Aeromancer. It is called Aer'or, a very powerful artifact of the Air Guild. Liam, that sword appeared on our shores the day... the day the disaster happened. We don't know much about it, other than the fact that it holds very powerful Light magic."

We took our weapons. Aer'or was rather simple, just a solid titanium spear, polished to a glowing sheen. Mine was a longsword with a blade of pure platinum and its cross-hilt was made of osmium decorated with gold wire. The hilt was made of wrapped leather with a circular pommel of diamond. The sheath in which it was housed was made of white pearl inlaid with rubies and gold wire running down the case with a platinum tip.

"It is called Solaris," Titan stated, looking at the great sword with a twinkle in his eye. "That's a very temperamental bugger you're holding, Liam. Don't make him angry."

That confused me, but I had a feeling there would be a lot more confusing things than a sword. I wrapped the leather baldric over my shoulder, adjusting the other two straps and laying the sheathed blade at my left hip with the Ka-Bar directly above it.

"Now, I make you Marines," Titan stated, going back to the rack of uniforms to grab two sets of dog tags. "First I need codenames. Harrison... you'd be a good 'Storm.' And Liam, you questioned the classification of mage as the most common magic-user. I'll never let you forget that, 'Mage.'" He typed something into his Tac-G and pressed one set of tags against the screen. When the blue light faded, he handed the set to me.

The tags read,
FOLEY
LIAM P. 'MAGE' O POS
34369777
AMC M
PROTESTANT

"How do you know my blood type?" I asked.

"I don't," Titan chuckled. "Why, did I get it wrong?"

"I don't know, either," I sighed, donning the dog tags.

"The service number was to identify you as one of my team, pretty much, so don't worry about that," Titan went on. "The rest of your information came from when I scanned you." He scanned Harrison's set of tags and handed them to my brother who put them on immediately.

"I think we're ready," I said.

"Good," Titan sighed. "Welcome to the Atlantean Marine Corps."