Fire, Not Ice

In front of me stood a masterpiece; or rather, several nearly identical masterpieces. The one directly in front of me is my favorite. It looks like an ordinary civilian outfit: an oversized ice blue sweatshirt, pale blue sunglasses, and dark blue cargo pants with little blue and white swirls that almost look like flames stylized on the pockets. The other outfits all had the same basic look, but with slightly different shades of blue. The thing is, these clothes weren’t just ordinary clothes. They were specially suited to my superhero powers. Each of them had thermal insulation, pockets galore, and a sheath for my dagger. 

“You think it will work?” Taron’s voice shook me out of my thoughts.

“What?”

“You think it will work? Your plan?” Taron repeated. “It’s ingenious and this is one of my best works, but SPA has outwitted us before.”

Butterflies begin to churn in my stomach. I had gotten so caught up in admiring the ingenuity of my superhero costume that I had forgotten that there was a plan behind this specially designed outfit.  I was going to test that plan, my plan, tomorrow. I swallowed. “I hope it will.”

Taron looked at me sympathetically. “Good luck. I mean it when I say your plan is inventive. Even if it fails with you, the council will probably try it again with someone else”

I nodded, but I didn’t want someone else to treat my plan out. I wanted it to succeed with me. 

The next day I stood on top of a two story warehouse on the outskirts of the city fidgeting with the sweatshirt ties. A  beta team had been ordered to capture the attention of at least one superhero with water, ice or any non-elemental based powers, and lead them to my position. I swallowed hard.. This was my first mission. No matter what Taron said, I couldn’t fail. This was my first (and only) chance to show that I could handle my powers and didn’t need a supervisor watching my every move. 

Suddenly my earbud buzzed and I jumped as Charlie, the technopath assigned to me for my first mission, spoke. His voice was deep and irritated. “Etana, please stop messing with your sweatshirt ties. Every piece of your costume is equipped advanced technology and messing with it can have consequences, like explosions, an inability to work—”

  “I know.” I replied. I had taken three years of classes on what to do when you were a superhero, including how to treat your costume. I really didn’t need a stranger reminding me that I shouldn’t be fidgeting, or that I should be stretching or standing still in a defense-ready stance. But I was too nervous and scared to do any of those things. 

“I know the rules, Charlie.” I said tersely. “But it’s my first mission, and isn’t a sanctioned *S.A.N.T.A.C mission, so give me a break.” 

Charlie must’ve heard the nerves in my voice as I spoke, because his next words were gentler. “You’ll do fine. S.A.N.T.A.C members rarely fail on their first mission. Plus, you’ve got me, an experienced technopath, and a whole S.A.N.T.A.C beta team behind you if anything happens. But please, stop fidgeting with the ties. They’re not going to work if you keep twisting them between your fingers like that.” 

I dropped the ties. Once they’re out of my hands, I swore I heard a small exclamation of relief from Charlie. “Thanks. The beta team is heading your way and they are luring Merwick, a pyromaniac with no fire powers whatsoever, but advanced technopath powers that he uses to make flame-related weapons. His main weapon of choice is a flamethrower. Good luck.”

I breathed the smallest sigh of relief. I had requested that the villain be some kind of inventor. It would have been a lot harder to defeat them if they had the same powers as me. A pyromaniac inventor wasn’t great, but at least he wasn’t an actual pyrokinetic. 

Approximately ten minutes later, I heard voices, and I grinned in anticipation. Crazily enough, once I knew who my opponent was, my nerves disappeared and I was able to finally stand in the defense-ready stance I was supposed to have been in for the past half hour. The voices got closer and I forced the grin off my face. I couldn’t let my face reveal anything to Merwick. I needed to look mildly scared and out of my depth so that he would think I was just a newb icer who had gotten separated from her team and not someone who had spent months training with her powers just for this moment. I shifted my face into a (hopefully) fearful face just as Merwick jumped onto the warehouse roof a few feet in front of me. At first he doesn’t notice me, cursing at the people on the street as he stands. I took the time to study him. He was tall, at least six feet, with pale skin, a dark mop of hair, and charred eyebrows. He wore typical superhero/villain clothing: a dark-colored, floor-level cape with an orange suit that has yellow and red accents. A belt sits comfortably on his waist with something attached. His cloak blocks the object from my view, so I can’t see exactly what it is, but I’m assuming it’s his signature weapon, the flamethrower.

Before I could inch closer to see if my hypothesis is correct, Merwick stopped cursing and turned my way, jumping in fear when he spotted me. His fear quickly faded and was replaced by a smirk when he took a closer look at me: my fake fearful face; my unassuming, totally-not-superhero-like outfit; and my youngness. To him, I must’ve looked no more than twelve or thirteen, if that. If he looked closer, he would've seen that the fear was more fake than real, that my body was loose, and that I was in the standard S.A.N.T.A.C. defensive stance. Merwick should’ve been able to recognize it, since we had fought all the villains in this city for years. But people will see what they want to see.

“Hey little girl.” Merwick said, his voice raspy and rough. “You lost?”

In response I raised my fists. “Stand down”.

Merwick laughed “Oh, a little girl who thinks she can stand up to me? This will be entertaining.” 

He unhooked the unseen object off his belt and I felt a jolt in my stomach as I realized that I was right. The object is a flamethrower, which means that on his back is an oxygen tank… another jolt comes from my stomach again, stronger. I resist the urge to throw my hand up and curl my fingers, pulling what’s mine towards me… Not yet, I remind myself. Just a few more minutes. 

“Backing out already, little girl?” Merwick taunted, waving the flamethrower around. “Too bad. I got this thing out just for you.”

“Never,” I replied, bouncing on my toes. “You won’t believe what hit you”.

“Doubt that,” I heard right before Merwick pressed a button and a ball of flame came shooting towards me.

Thankfully I expected this, and I ignored my first instinct. My body hit the ground and rolled as the flamethrower panned across the roof, flames barely two feet above my head. The amount of heat scared me, but… it also thrilled me, making the jolt in my stomach come stronger and harder to resist. 

Suddenly my body spasmed and I came to an abrupt stop. It took me a minute to realize the jolt isn’t from inside me, but because I’ve reached the edge of the roof. 

I froze. I couldn’t go any farther, and the flames were still roaring above me. If Merwick aimed the flame thrower a couple inches lower, then my plan was screwed. 

I breathed: in and out, in and out. Don’t move. Don’t move.

Finally, finally, just when I’m about to give in, the heat begins to diminish, and I can feel the fire disappearing. Quickly, I moved myself into standing position so that I’m not caught off guard just as the last of the smoke from the fire dissipates. 

Merwick stood off to the side me. He didn’t look happy anymore. “Darn,” he muttered. “I thought for sure the heat would’ve melted an iceling like you.” 

I fight the urge to smirk. He didn’t know half of it. 

“Guess I’m not that easy to kill,” I quipped. “Are you going to stand there and fire shots at me like a coward, or are you actually going to do some fighting?”

Merwick’s eyes narrowed. His hand inched towards a sheath opposite the flamethrower but stopped just short of it. “You know what, little girl? I’m done playing games with you. It was just luck that you didn’t burn before. Well, there’s no way luck can get you out of this.” He twisted a dial on his belt and grinned as he turned the flamethrower back on. “Burn, little one,” is the last thing I heard before I am enveloped in flames.

Inside the flames, the heat is searing, burning… but in the best way possible. I breathed. In. Out. In. Out. For the first time since I discovered I was a pyrokinetic, I feel free. No more pretending I was a low-level icer. No more resisting the call of flames. I. Was. Free. My nondescript outfit burns away revealing a fireproof skin-tight suit and orange socks.   

Let me backup a little. I always thought it was stupid that villains and heroes wore these flamboyant costumes that allowed people to recognize both them and their signature power. Why would you give your opponent such an advantage? So when I got my powers, I came up with a plan to pretend that I had the opposite of my true powers and dress in nondescript clothing that showed my fake powers. I knew that hiding my powers wouldn’t last forever. I didn’t want it to. I just wanted to hide them until my first battle so I could surprise my opponent with my actual powers. Doing that would change everything about how S.A.N.T.A.C. trained their heroes. So that’s what I did. For months, only The Council and Taron knew about my plan, and now finally I could show off my actual skills.

I breathed one more time. In. Out. Then I curled my fingers, signaling the fire to come to me and into me, and stepped out of the flames.

Merwick had his back to me. He was waving the flamethrower around like a madman. I smiled gleefully. Oh, this was the part I had been waiting for. “Merwick,” I called. A shocked Merwick spun towards me, his jaw hanging open. “But how—you—I—burn—”

“Oh yeah, here’s the thing. I actually don’t have ice powers. I have fire powers.” I told him, smirking as I gathered the flames in my hand and trapped Merwick in a prison made of fire.

Merwick wailed, but I ignored him, turning in the direction of headquarters. He would be fine. As a pyromaniac, his suit would certainly be fireproof, but his unprotected head wasn’t. So until the beta team that drew Merwick to me came to get him, Merwick would be stuck in the fire prison. 

I’m still thinking about the irony of the whole situation when I aimed my hands downward and shot off to inform the council of my first successful mission.

*Superheroes Against National Terrorism And Crime