Collision Course

[Dark Harbinger]

The market district is the heart of any Ascen caravan, a center of bustling activity, business, and cultural exchange. Lined with tents of vibrantly colored fabrics and collapsible wooden structures, these bazaars are always full of life no matter the time of day. As one of the larger caravans that roam the tundra, Teverak was no different in this regard. Even in the early light of morning the make-shift streets were packed with people; crowds moving to and fro in what would appear to be utter chaos to an average onlooker. Of course those who see the vast melee everyday know otherwise; the flow of people and interactions kept a steady rhythm, acting almost like a pulse for the caravan itself. Today however, Something was different about the chaos, a new beat disrupting the rhythm and altering the flow.

A scream pierced the air as a bolt of energy smashed into the side of a merchant's cart, shattering the wooden frame and causing it to topple. As the crowd scrambled away to avoid being crushed, a white clad figured vaulted over the collapsed pile of timber and dove into the mass of people before him. As he wove his way through the chaos, the sounds of shouting behind him caused him to risk a glance backwards, sharp blue eyes gleaming through the slits in an ornate fox mask that covered his face. A trio of armed men broke free of the crowd near the cart's wreckage; two of them held swords while held the third had a crossbow, and all donning set of light armor. They stopped for only a brief moment to look around before one of the swordsmen caught sight of masked figure. He pointed at his quary and shouted to alert his comrades before pushing his way into the sea of people and starting the chase anew.

'They don't give up, do they?'

Ivan turned to face forward again, trying to cause as little disturbance as possible to the flow of people as he moved. What the men were after was a small leather satchel that was slung over the spark's shoulder, a bag no larger than lunchbox that jingled with each movement he made. It had been a simple snatch-and-grab job; he had to hit a black market merchant and recover some stolen property for his client. An easy enough job for what he was getting paid, but of course things could never just be that simple. He hadn't received any information indicating that the merchant in question would have escorts, and certainly not any that were magically gifted, but there they were waiting for him. He was spotted as he moved in to grab his target and had to start improvising a bit. A few extra guards usually wasn't that much of an issue, but these three had proved to be remarkably light on their feet; he hadn't expected them to be able to keep pace with him so well. Even now they were hot on his tail, pushing through the crowd at a remarkable pace despite being encumbered by their equipment. And then there was the mage. One of the swordsmen apparently had a gift for the arcane, firing off bolts of magic whenever he was given a clear enough line of fire; something that happened more frequently than one would assume due to a rather questionable definition of 'clear'.

As a shop sign a short ways in front of him exploded in a shower of magic sparks, Ivan decided that it was time to get a bit more aggressive in his evasion techniques. He turned into the first tent he came across, ducking into a slide and passing between a man's legs the instant he made it through the entrance. With a flick of his wrist, a cinquedea dagger flew out from the sleeve of his coat and embedded itself in the canvas on the far side of the tent. He mentally took hold of the steel and swiped his hand downward, the dagger moving along with his hand and tearing open a hole in the fabric. He held his slide through the opening, rolling to his feet on the other side as his blade returned to his hand. He found himself in a small storage area filled with various goods and supplies, surrounded on all sides by stalls and tents. He made a break for a cart on the opposite side of space, managing to clamber up the side of it just before the familiar sound of a crossbow firing reached his ears. Ivan spun around as he kicked off the cart, taking hold of all three of his blades with his mind and forming them into a small shield in front of his hand. He let his body react naturally as his eyes locked onto the rapidly approaching projectile, swiping his arm in such a way that his weapons intercepted the bolt and batted it to the side. An acrobatic flip left him facing forward again when he hit the ground, but not before another blast of magic tore past him and exploded ineffectually in the air above. Though he doubted his pursuers would give up so easily, Ivan had at least managed to break line their line of sight for the moment, and with a busy square stretching out before him he had the best chance he was going to get to try and slip away.

[Haine]

The clang of metal on metal drowned out the din from the caravan, drowned out everything. In the forge was the only place she ever felt at peace. Felt normal. The only time she could forget.

“Is that what you really want?” The voice ran through her head unexpectedly, distracting her. Her swing missed its mark and the glowing metal before her made an unpleasant crunch as the angle twisted the breastplate she’d spent the last few hours shaping. For a moment she simply stared at it. No expression, no emotion. Then it came. The rage. The knot in her stomach and the red that threatened to flood her vision as her fists tightened at her side. She took slow steadying breaths and whispered softly to herself of warm memories. It did little against the torrent, a drop of water in an inferno. She resisted a moment longer before she let it in. The She felt the strength, the impact as she kicked the anvil over, the clatter as she grabbed the breastplate and smashed it into the ground echoing over her own wordless snarl. Then as quickly as it had come it was gone, leaving her drained, hands on her knees as she glared down at the armor, her breathing heavy.


This was it, the reason she hadn’t wanted to come here, back to the caravans. She knew it was a bad idea, knew she shouldn’t...but she’d had no choice. One could only wander so far before the icelands drove them back to others. No one survived them alone. If the lands themselves didn’t claim your life, the isolation was enough to claim your mind. A fallen god in your head didn’t really help with that part. She’d needed to feel normal. Like a person, and not the thing she’d felt herself surrendering to in the wild. The beast. She hated it, the weakness. The lack of control. She couldn’t even tell how much of the hate was even hers anymore. How much of her was really her anymore. She looked around the forge she’d borrowed from one of the local smiths. Finding work in the caravans was never hard, particularly for her craft. Especially if you were willing to settle, and settle she had. She was paid a pittance for her work, but she was allowed to stay, and soon she would have the money for fresh supplies. Soon she could leave this place behind her.


“Is that what you really want?” She screamed a wordless challenge as the voice filled her head once more.


“WHY! WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME!?” The words rang out through the forge and out into the market beyond.


“WHY DO YOU MOCK ME!?” She screamed, the rage filled her once more and she felt the flames flow through her, starting at the marks along her front before they flowed along her arms. There was only silence. Always silence....It was maddening. She sighed and turned towards the door, swiftly making for the room she’d been given and quickly changed into a fresh shirt before donning her armor and shouldering her pack. She doubted her employer would be forgiving when he found what remained of his forge. She had outstayed her welcome it would seem. Not that it mattered. The caravan’s were large, this one in particular. Another smith would be willing to put her services to use, and it was unlikely the man who had hired her would find her. She turned leave when the wall of sound outside suddenly parted, a new racket rising above the rest. She moved towards the door to check it out when she heard a crunching noise and the ceiling came crashing down around her….

[Dark Harbinger]

Learning:

SPOILER: Click to show

Name: Wind Shear
Rank: C
Affinity: Wind
Requirements: None
Description:
The user spreads their magic into the air in front of them, compressing it into a 'blade' of air about 8 feet wide. Once formed,the user launches the blade out in front of them, traveling at high speeds for about fifty feet. The blade itself doesn't do any damage, but anything that it touches becomes charged with the user's energy, and is assaulted a vortex of energy a moment later; slicing into them with hundreds of tiny cuts. The blade can pass through 3 targets before vanishing.

Points: 0/6


Ivan let himself melt into the crowded square of the central market, skillfully slipping through the masses as he tried to put more distance between himself and his pursuers. Hiding among other people was a specialty of his, a skill that he'd honed through years of practical application in his work. In the midst of the melee his white clothing fit right in with the other residents of the tundra; so as long as they didn't spot his mask, he was as good as a ghost in this crowd. That was the thought anyway. Behind him he could hear the trio of warriors clambering up onto the stack of crates that separated the storage area from the square. Shouting from the apparently leader of the three mixed with the sounds of life that filled the streets, almost lost to the constant murmur of voices. Even though he was unable to pick out what was said, the Spark quickly discovered what their plan was. A loud crackling noise drowned out the crowd for a brief moment, a blue bolt of light flying through the air and exploding into a shower of sparks overhead.

A chorus of yells and screams rang out as the deafening blast split the streets, the crowd immediately starting to surge with the movement of fleeing bystanders. Ivan would have just followed along with the flow of people, but another three blasts soon shook the square; cutting off the mob at each of the connecting streets and forcing the current back in on itself. The result was pure chaos; bodies forced up against one another as everyone tried to escape in a different direction. As irritating as they were proving to be, the spark had to at least give these hunters credit for being creative; someone as small as him would likely be trampled before to long, and even if he wasn't, the trio were starting to round up the crowd. So, as long as he tried to lay low he would either be singled out of crushed... They were forcing him to make a move.

There was nothing else for it; the chase was on once again. Ivan's wind pushed out against the people around him, shoving them just far enough for him to start moving. He used a man in front of him as a vault, flipping up onto his shoulders before starting across the top of the crowd; using the mob's heads as stepping stones. As expected, it barely took a second for the hunters to spot him; the crossbowman calling out to his allies as he lined up a shot. The spark's daggers rose up to shield him again as he made for a low canopy by the nearest street entrance. His steel whirled around him with each step, deflecting two bolts before a blast of magic from the spell caster forced him to alter his course. The ball of energy scorched through the canvas of the nearest tent as he dove to the side and caught the edge of a shop sign. By the time his momentum swung him up onto a shop awning, the magician was already clearing a path through the crowd with a wave of magical energy.

Having cleared the square, Ivan continued across the top of several merchant stalls. His elevation allowed him to move without worry of running into anyone, but his pursuer's brute-force methods were proving effective at keeping pace. They didn't seem particularly worried about causing collateral damage either, several of the mage's attacks striking structures and bystanders alike when they went wide. 'This is a mess...' He turned down a another street as a cart in front of him was consumed by a wild surge of energy. It was becoming clear that they were herding him somewhere, likely to a dead end where they could pin him down. "You know how to end this." Ivan's eyes darted to the side to see a familiar face for just a split second, his demonic companion looking at him through a mirror in a stall as he passed by. He didn't respond, returning his gaze forward just in time to fall into a slide to dodge a crossbow bolt; skidding over the edge of a covered wagon and back down to street level.

Not a second later another spell tore past him, a woman screaming out in pain as she was caught in the crossfire. Ivan's gaze narrowed behind his mask as the bystander hit the ground, the boy turning to the side to avoid trampling her. The next street was far less crowded than the others, tents lining both sides an only a few people milling about. While there were fewer people to get in the way, there also wasn't anything he could use to slow down his pursuers. "...This is becoming tiresome." Ivan's irises flickered, the blue fading away as a crimson red flooded in. He felt his body slipping away from him, as the other presence within him started to assume control. 'Hey, Wait a second!' Protests came to late; the demon was already in motion.

The spark skid to a halt as he spun around to face the hunters, sharp red eyes glaring through the slits in his mask. The mage leading them met his gaze with a smug grin, no doubt thinking that they'd finally worn their prey down and would have an easy clean up. How mistaken he was. The clouds around Ivan's wrists suddenly burst into motion, his wind rushing out in every direction and making his clothing crackle as mana surged through his body. It only took a brief moment for his magic to build up, his right hand glowing as several small glyphs surrounded it. A menacing grin formed beneath the fox mask and a distorted voice called out in an ancient tongue. "Zephis Scinde." The Spark slashed the air in front of him with his hand, his magic passing into the air itself and forming a dense blade of wind that rocketed forward towards his foes. The mage put his hands up in front of him, his cocky grin still lingering as he raised a magical barrier to block the attack. As sure of himself as he was, he never would have guessed at the raw power hiding behind the spark's spell. The wave of air crashed into the magic wall and tore right through it, causing the man's eyes to go wide as it passed through his torso. The blade clipped the crossbowman as well, but the second swordsman managed to throw himself out of the way in time, leaving the spell to keep going and slam into a wooden watchtower near the last intersection.

Time froze for a second, all four of them at a standstill until the energy from the attack finally went wild. A raging tempest erupted out from where the spell made contact, scything wind spreading out to consume whatever it touched. The two hunters that had been hit screamed out in agony as their flesh was torn apart, flecks of fresh blood sent flying in every direction. As the same time, the supports on the watchtower were reduced to splinters; a loud creaking noise rising above the sounds of the men's cries as the structure gave out. The tower collapsed, listing heavily to the side before it came crashing down on the last of the hunters as well as an entire row of tents.


[Effective Spell Power: A Rank]
[Magic Roll: 3 - No backlash]

[Alexian]

Dark Harbinger: Training Complete

[Haine]

The violent wall of sound that accompanied the towers fall faded quickly, giving way to relatively quieter screaming, crying, and other such sounds of panic and despair that accompanied such destruction. After a few moments a new sound joined the fray, the merry crackle of flame as the canvas from one of the tents met the intense heat of the forge it had housed. The crackle quickly grew to a roar as the other tents and their contents caught like dried tinder. The blaze wasn't allowed to spread, the onlookers rapidly removing the closest tents to deny it anymore fuel. Regardless the flames continued to grow higher, the wall of heat making it impossible to approach. Despite that little more than a minute after the inferno began a figure strode out of the flame. She was wreathed in flames from head to toe, but the heat didn't even dry the blood that dripped down her arm from a large nail that had lodged in her forearm and begin to glow merrily. Her green eyes burned with gold as she strode out of the flame, jets of heat causing her hair to dance around her face as she approached a masked figure.

She didn't know he was the one to blame for what had just happened, looking back she might try to convince herself that some small logical part of her mind that held on below the surface connected him for one reason or another. The odd attire, the calmness despite the chaos around them, or maybe those red eyes that looked as unnatural as her own. That would be a lie. Logic played no part in her actions now. There was no sign of the rage that filled her as she approached him. Her expression was calm, gait relaxed even as she drew her revolver. Her lips parted and she spoke in a voice that was not her own, words long forgotten by mortal ears.

“Indur ver kined.”

The unnatural guttural sound filled with mirth as she leveled the gun and thumbed the hammer. At which point the weapons powder finally succumbed to the heat and it promptly exploded. None of the shrapnel pierced her armor, but the sudden shock severed Her trance. Confusion flickered across her face as she turned and took in the flames, the wreckage...the bodies. Panic rose quickly and Her eyes began to burn as I'd it began to take control once more. Until the gunpowder in her pack detonated. The blast was deafening and she was thrown towards the wreckage, a support from the tower catching her in the side of the head and sending her sprawling. She was still a few moments before she slowly pushed herself to a sitting position. Her thoughts were muddled, mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotion. Numbly she turned towards a masked figure clad in black. The only person still anywhere near the flames. For a moment she mistook him for Ifrit’s manifestation. Those unearthly bright eyes.

Then she noticed small wisps of cloud around their wrists. No, not Ifrit, another like her. Sparks, people called them. She’d never really liked the term. She stood one of her hands drifting to the shrapnel in her arm now that she felt. The nail had turned white hot, but blood flowed freely between her metal clad fingertips as she approached the other elemental. Even as she did it her instincts screamed it was wrong. This figure was dangerous. The strain that built as Ifrit struggled against his chains in an effort to reclaim control seconded it. The God rarely tried to claim her mind directly, and when it did chaos was inevitable. She had questions, but no words to speak them, so she simply stood and watched the Spark, her expression wary.

[Dark Harbinger]

Ivan swayed as his body once again fell under his control, a quick shake of his head pushing through a wave of disorientation that accompanied the switch. By the time he had managed to steady himself and get his bearings straight, the flames had already started to spread. A quick glance around showed the extent of the damage; half the street on fire and four tents crushed beneath the rubble of the watchtower. The sounds of screams and panic rose up around him, the world muffled behind the curtain of crackling flames. 'Dammit Hari...' He sighed and shook his head as the demon's apparition appeared before him, a small smirk on her face. "Oh don't give me that, we both know that you could have stopped me if you really wanted to." He didn't respond, simply continuing to survey the area instead. Two of the hunters were surely dead, crushed beneath the burning rubble, while the third appeared to not be long for this world; flesh rent apart and immobilized with fire slowly creeping closer. Outside of his foes, how many injured were there? People scrambled to and fro as they attempted to save what they could and stop the fire's spread, but all of it seemed distant to the spark. It was hard for him to muster up anything resembling sympathy for strangers who almost certainly had more than he ever had.

Ivan looked on with cold indifference as the blaze continued to spread, any urgency in his mission lost now that his pursuers had been dealt with. In the middle of all the chaos, no one took note of the masked boy, all far too preoccupied with their own concerns to even care. Well, all but one it seemed. As he scanned across the scene, Ivan came across a pair of fiery green eyes that were locked directly on him. They belonged to a woman of about his height, blond hair and fair features hidden behind a veil of fire that covered her entire body. He quickly recognized her as one of his own kind, a Fire-Touched as it were. He silently wondered if she might have been the source of the blaze, not that it mattered much in the end. Though the woman wore nothing resembling ill will on the surface, something inside of Ivan told him otherwise. His muscles tensed and his eyes narrowed through the slits in him mask. Though he was in control again, his irises were still almost entirely covered with Hari's crimson, his own hue slow to filter back in. He continued to stare her down, eyes flashing dangerously and three knives rising up around him as she reached for the gun at her side. He could feel a pang of confusion from Hari as the Fire-Touched spoke in a foreign tongue, but he was more concerned with the weapon in her hand. He could hear it even as she took aim; a fizzing noise from beyond the metal casing, one that was all too familiar to him.

Instinctively, the spark shielded his face, daggers shifting to cover his vitals as the powder in the gun ignited. The resulting blast set a ringing in his ears, bits of tiny metal shrapnel bouncing off his weapons as well as the plates in his coat. He would have started to move at that instant had the look on her face not stopped him. Something was off, that much was clear, but he had little time dwell on it before a second, larger blast shook the area. The pinging of wild bullets was lost in the deafening roar, the shock of the explosion setting Ivan back a few paces and sending the woman flying. He stumbled slightly and fell to one knee as he tried to shake it off, his vision blurred by the concussive force and his hearing deprived of everything but the sound of his demon's voice and his own heartbeat. 'Damn is she insane? Why the hell would a fire elemental carry around gun powder?' He picked himself back up and shifted his mask back into place before leveling his gaze on the strange woman and starting forward. "Be careful with this one Ivan..." He stopped in his tracks almost instantly, something in the demon's tone bothering him. 'Why, do you know what she said?'

"No, but I recognize what language she said it in."

His gaze flicked toward Hari for a brief moment, his curiosity clear as he returned to the other spark. What in this world could possibly make her nervous? It was a question he was unsure he actually wanted to know the answer to... and yet here he was. He crossed his arms as the woman started to stir again, the flames that had encircled him shying away from his silhouette as his wind pushed out against it. His eyes were about halfway back to their natural color, now a dull purple as they stared at her from behind his mask. Her apparent aggression would only be natural if she'd seen him cast the spell that started this mess, and yet he had a feeling that this wasn't the case. He hadn't a clue of what she actually wanted, nor would have even cared under normal circumstances, but he couldn't really call this situation normal. He met her stare for several long moments before his curiosity finally got the better of him and he spoke, a slight ring disguising his voice as his mask resonated with his words. "...Can I help you?"

[Haine]

Seconds passed and still the figure before her stood still and silent as a statue. Too silent. As the thought crossed her mind she realized that the steady crackle of flames had vanished and she spun too look at the blaze. It was still going strong. She abruptly brought her hands together as hard as she could manage and a look of anguish crossed her features as it confirmed her fears. She'd deafened herself. She clapped again, and again, louder and louder until her palms were red and stinging. She stared down at them, the other spark seemingly forgotten. How could she have been so stupid? She'd known the gunpowder was unstable for someone like her, but she'd ignored the risks for the same reason. What could a sudden burst of heat do to her? She'd felt the usefulness had far outweighed the risk. The threat of using a firearm was enough to dissuade most trouble unless the person instigating it had little regard for their own life. In that event the weapons let her avoid relying on Ifrit's power. They let her stay in control. She'd been an idiot. She'd seen people from her clan deafened by explosions before. She just hadn't considered she might still be vulnerable to such a thing.



No that wasn't true. She'd avoided considering that very possibility. The revolver had just been too tempting a tool to pass up, but now her crutch broken and left her more crippled than when she'd found it. Her hands began to shake. It wouldn't be permanent. It couldn't be. She'd already lost so much. Too much. She didn't know if she could stand to lose anymore. Slowly her hands clenched into fists and she forced the shaking to stop. Dwelling on her stupidity wasn't going to change anything. It was done. She'd just have to hope for the best. As if she was ever so lucky. She looked over her shoulder and grimaced as she saw what was left of her pack. Her gaze fell to the ground and her expression darkened as she saw its contents had fared little better. Her worldly possessions had just been reduced to the armor she was wearing. Could today get ANY better? She should've known better than to tempt fate. As the thought crossed her mind a wave of steam exploded out of the curtain of flames and a wave of water rushed towards her.





She went down hard, her feet knocked out from under her and sending her face first into the oncoming rush of water. The god she held roared in anger. She screamed in terror. They both fell silent on her ears but to anyone else the two sounds blended into something unearthly. The wave carried her a few feet, sweeping her forcefully back against the rubble of the watchtower before it began to disperse along the icy ground, leaving her a coughing spluttering mess. She pushed herself up, her arms like lead as the water drained her strength. Sudden warmth radiated from her chest, and she gasped as a wave of heat rippled across her body accompanied by a low growl from Ifrit in her mind. Wisps of steam curled off her. Liquid metal ran down her arm as the shrapnel from the watchtower succumbed to the heat. She could feel the rage coming as she spotted the mage who summoned the wave. She wasn't alone. At least four other stood nearby. Flames came to her unbidden as Ifrit's rage bled through her and as the newcomers saw it their eyes narrowed. No doubt they had been dispatched to quell the fire. Perhaps now they were thinking of quelling its source. Or trying. The exhilaration flooded her as violence seemed imminent was overwhelming. Her lips parted in a hungry smile and her hands were suddenly shrouded in bright white flame.



She could see their fear as she ignited. The flames flickered, her expression wavered. They SHOULD fear her. She could scorch them, turn them to ash. WOULD turn them to ash. Consume them-! No! That wasn't her. That wasn't what she wanted. The flames died as she struggled against Ifrit's will. She didn't want to see that look anymore. That accusation. She was nothing but a danger. It was true. The members of the caravan made up their minds and started towards them, three of them apparently readying spells of some kind. The god wanted to fight. Wanted to show them the level of arrogance they had grasped to challenge her. To revel in the heat and light as it became a sun that reduced all that would stand before it to ash. Malek took a deep breath before turning and abruptly running away as fast as she could. She didn't see if the spark had followed her. She only focused on escape. Somehow she doubted anyone would care about her innocence after her little display. It would be obvious to them that the firebound had set the blaze. After all she'd been there hadn't she? So Malek ran, accompanied only by the pounding of her heart and she didn't look back...

[Dark Harbinger]

The staring contest wore on between the two sparks for what felt like a small eternity, neither party budging an inch as the flames crowded around them. The ringing in Ivan's ears died down and his eyes finished shifting completely back to their usual cold azure, but his question was left unanswered. She would be the one to finally break the stalemate, but the nature of her interruption wasn't quite what he had in mind. He raised an eyebrow as she suddenly started to repeatedly clap her hands with a panicked expression, but it didn't take too long for him to connect the dots. 'Deaf, eh?' Hardly a surprise given that she was practically the center of the blast, but even still... "She is a bit of an odd one, isn't she?" Hari gave voice to his thoughts as she took a step closer to get a better look at her. 'Like you're one to talk...' Without looking he could tell that she shot him a glare, but such an exchange was nothing new between the two. Still, this girl seemed unstable to say the least; first she approached with obvious intent to kill, then shifted to an attitude of confusion and maybe even a bit of despair, and now she was panicking and ignoring him completely... He'd never seen such powerful mood swings before, and certainly not within such a short window of time. It was nearly as amusing as it was confusing.

Of course, even if she had become utterly oblivious to her surroundings, Ivan wasn't about to do the same. The fire around him was only growing in intensity; the heat bearing down on him heavily even through the thermal protection that his clothes usually provided. From behind he could hear several people approaching, shouting over the roar of the flames in an effort to coordinate and locate any survivors still lingering in the inferno. With the fire-touched having already broken eye contact, Ivan took a chance to glance in the direction of the voices, watching sight of small group of people in the corner of his eye. A fire-fighting squad to be sure; no one else would be working through the flames so methodically. Because of the nature of the caravan's 'structures', fire posed a considerable danger. As such, it was important to have teams that could quickly respond and deal with such issues before they caused too much damage, and yet... this response was fast, even by their standards. If he had to guess, their reaction time was likely due to being put on alert when his late pursuers started throwing lightning about.

While he wasn't sure if they'd been spotted or not, the sounds of the old tongue echoing above the flames gave the spark all the warning he needed for what was coming next. His body moved reflexively, muscles tensing for the briefest of moments before his legs launched him in the air. He landed atop one of the few pieces of debris from the tower that escaped the blaze, turning to look down at where had been standing just as the mage's spell went off. A powerful wave of water tore through the area, the sea of flame giving way to a solid wall of steam in an instant. Of course the fire wasn't the only thing that was washed away by the water; the fire-touched girl hadn't noticed the mage's arrival and had been taken completely off guard by the cool torrent. It was never particularly rare for sparks to have an averse reaction when it came to their opposing element; despite all outward appearances, Ivan himself had a particular dislike of fire. Repeated exposure to the element over the years and rigorous training had greatly improved his mental fortitude when it came to the flames, but even now that fear still lived in the corner of his mind, making him acutely aware of the embers that still clung to life in the water's wake. It was only natural... and yet the scream of utter terror from the girl as she was swept aside seemed to suggest something more than that instinctual fear.

He looked on from his perch as she struggled to rise again, but a nagging feeling in his mind prevented him from paying any particular attention to her. He could feel someone's gaze on him, but it wasn't the other spark. His eyes flicked back and forth for the source until they once again found the fire-fighting squad. All of their eyes were locked onto the now-combusting girl... all except for one. A young woman at the rear of the group seemed completely oblivious to the dangerous spectacle unfolding before them, emerald eyes wide as she stared directly at him. Ivan clicked his tongue in slight annoyance; he'd seen that sort of look before, albeit only a handful of times. No matter how obscure the old tales became, there always were a few that still remembered, especially in the frozen expanse of Ascen. That girl understood what sort of legacy was attached to the mask he wore, and from experience he knew that that would only serve to complicate matters if he hung around.

Ivan offered the fire-touched once last glance, seeing her engulfed in flames as she stared down the mages with murder in her eyes, the same look she'd been giving him when she first showed up. As curious as he was about her, things were getting far to messy here; he had to make an exit while he still had the chance. He kicked off his perch and landed on another pierce of debris before launching himself again and using a signpost to swing up onto the top of a merchant stall. Only one of them even saw him go, offering only a weak protest as the others kept their attention fixed on the spark girl. There was only a short distance until he once again found himself on the main street, but he had no intention of staying there, jumping over that gap and turning immediately to another alleyway. He'd certainly draw a little bit of attention as he hopped across the tops of the various tents and wagons, but he was more interested in distancing himself from the scene than vanishing into the crowd.

As he continued his flight, Ivan noticed that he wasn't alone; the fire-touched was running nearly parallel to him a slight distance back along the ground. At first he assumed that she was giving chase, but a quick glance was all it took to dispel that theory. The panic and despair that clung to her were immediately apparent; she was running away, likely not even aware of just how close he was. Curiosity still firmly embedded in his mind, he slowed his pace ever so slightly so that he wouldn't outpace her and started predict what path she would take. Hari silently protested at his decision, but for some reason his rather uncharacteristic interest wouldn't be swayed. It wasn't like this would really interfere with his job anyway, a mere detour on his way to the dropoff point...