Starting Fires

Assassin, Thief, Scholar; all of these were simply titles bestowed upon a Guild of Magi in honor of the traits of their patron Elemental Lords, powerful archangels who were said to have taught the Atlanteans to harness their magical potential. An Elemental Lord could choose a human as an avatar so that they could communicate with the world. Those avatars were given the tremendous power of the Elemental Lords along with the wisdom and immortality of their patron, so long as the human remained in their favor.

Perhaps this was all just some pagan jibber-jabber, but it was insisted that these spirits were the soldiers of God Himself.

"You know less about you're own religion than you think," Eon pointed out. It didn't change my opinion of the blasphemous nonsense. I wasn't a devout Christian, but I knew my way around the Bible pretty well.

The only thing that could possibly make sense in this city was Task Force 343, for that was the name of our team. We were the best fighting force man had ever seen, combining brute strength and magical ability with knowledge and deft tactics. The team was brought together at the base of the obsidian tower, a handful of about 20 young men and women, wearing tunics of all colors. Emperor Sextus VI stood before us and gave a speech about restoring order to Atlantis and giving the people direction once again. There was a bit about rising from chaos, but I wasn't paying attention; there was something I couldn't stand about that man. Bah, maybe he was just a boring speech-giver.

"So go, now," the ruler spoke passionately, "and restore glory that Atlantis rightfully holds!"

***

The countryside was a rather bleak wasteland of dead trees and brown grass with a cloudy brown sky. Our Humvees rolled along a paved road with no other building in sight for miles. Finally, we saw an underground parking garage entrance. The drivers were put through a few ID checks and scans before being waved down into the empty concrete structure. Titan gathered up the team and led them into a stairwell which proceeded up to a catwalk that ran over a military base in a subterranean cave. The most amazing part was the purple gash in the air that looked like what I jumped through to end up here, only much larger.

A disheveled old man in a lab coat and round glasses stood pacing in front of the... well, portal, I suppose... and turned to greet the team with a nervous nod.

"Doctor Romanov," Titan addressed the man. "Chin up, mate. We'll get it right this time."

"I hope you will," Romanov muttered back in a thick German accent. "The last time was a disaster. If only they had all listened..."

"Bullock led that mission," the Commander reassured the doctor. "He's a harsh fellow. Doesn't know what he's up against and underestimates his force. Elite Team needed better support."

"What support is better than 20 Marines?" Romanov spat.

"20 of the best Marines," Titan responded slyly. "And the Executioner."

Romanov did a double take before bringing his thoughts together. "At first I thought that alternate dimensions were poppycock, but now you tell me that the Headsman is showing up. Why now of all times?"

"Too good to be true?" sounded a familiar gruff voice. It was General Bullock, the guy who greeted us when we entered Atlantis. "Doctor Romanov, with all due respect, you thought the power resource was a wash and how did that turn out."

"It was a bloodbath that ended with a useless glass ball," the scholar scoffed. "You said that Elite Team could take on anything and now they've been cut in half."

Eon cut in between the three superiors, mediating the argument. "There's only one way to figure out whether or not he's the Headsman."

I caught on quickly and stepped forward, tilting my head questioningly.

"It's not a glamorous title," Romanov sighed, "especially not for a child. I should tell you now that... what you are called is from another language. It's old and dead and from a different world entirely. Through that portal is the land called Ishu Tazaei, inhabited by people who called themselves gir Boltazeinma, The Ancients. Their word for ancient, Boltazein, was used to describe their people and how long they had existed. They harnessed raw and unleashed energy of their minds which could be used to power cities. However, there were those who used their power to corrupt and evolved into creatures of blood; mindless drones that sought only to kill. There were also those that became flying marauders as well as the puppet masters who wielded invisible arms to destroy their prey.

"These horrible creatures came to be known as gir Olminharma, The Evils, described by the word Olminhar, obviously 'evil.' There came a war between the two which lead to the decimation of the Boltazeinma, save for one. The texts I've gathered refer to him only as gir Solaris, oddly enough. Solaris in their language literally means 'Headsman,' but actually means 'Wise One.' Solar is the head or mind and connects to Latin. Solar refers to the sun which refers to enlightenment of the mind. The is suffix defines an individual. As you should know, Solaris is the name of the Elemental Lord of Light and patron of the Light Guild. It is also the name of his sword, said to be bestowed upon the Archangel Michael himself.

"Of course gir Solaris wasn't just the greatest scholar of the Ancients, he was the greatest warrior, creating a dual meaning of the word 'Headsman.' He held off the Evils long enough to transfer the power of his mind, the most formidable mind in all of Ishu Tazaei, into a single orb. That orb could power the entire world for a thousand years and still not be half drained, but more on that later. My point is, the Ancients predicted the coming of a warrior-scholar as powerful as the Wise One who would destroy the evil binding the world. That man would be known by the literal translation of Headsman. So there you are."

"You must really like the sound of your voice," I sighed, "but all I hear is someone with a mouthful of peanut butter."

Romanov cursed under his breath, probably in German, turning to face Titan who shrugged.

"Mage," the doc replied patiently, "I was told all I need to know about you, but the one thing Titan spent a long time reporting was your smart mouth. Keep in mind that he has tasked me with coming up with a special form of punishment for you speaking to me like that."

Eon once again broke up the clash of heated words. "Guys, I think it's high time we got on our way. The doc gave us the briefing, and the rest of us are getting itchy trigger fingers back here."

"Let's do this," Titan agreed with a nod.

Several men flanked General Bullock, staring at us with judging eyes.

"These boys know a thing or two about the place we're goin' to," the General explained. "Boomer." A cocky-looking man with unkempt blonde hair and a large KSG-12 shotgun. "Beecher." A man with a cold gaze and a modified Steyr AUG. "Sergeant Mullins." A grunt with a mustache. "Private Ray Williams." Just a grunt. "And Helicopter Pilot Plisskin." Another grunt with a pilot's uniform. "None of them want to go back. It's hell in there, it is, but they've been there and back against all odds. They'll be folded into your team for this mission. If you all live, they're back under my command. If not, may they rest in peace."

Bullock nodded his goodbye before stepping unceremoniously through the portal. The rest of the team trickled through until it was the last few reluctants, myself included. When I did step through, I felt the familiarly unnatural weightlessness and disorientation. The first thing I saw of the next world was a blank wall of gray.