The Silent Voyager

The Silent Voyager is part 1 of a 4 part fanfiction series written by the user, True Lycalo
==Included Characters==
(Will be added to progressively)
Fotiagos Imperium
Terrador Bellator
==Chapter 1: Predator in the night==
The deepest dark of night enveloped the cold city of Station Square. The smell was musty and the only light source was emanating from flickering dull streetlights one would pass every so often. A light wind left an eerie whistle echoing across the numerous buildings. The one other sound heard was from the tapping of purple soled, dual-toned crimson and cobalt shoes as a lone figure traveled down the dilapidated sidewalk. The hood of his ebony trench coat covered his head, only giving passersby a glimpse of his purple furred muzzle. His fingerless black gloved hands were buried deep within the pockets of his equal colored pants. His steps were configured in a way that suggested he was in a hurry. His name was Fotiagos Imperium and such an assumption was a correct one. The wolverine had an occupation in the industry of Bounty Hunting and he had just completed an assignment. A week prior to this day he was given a task to eliminate a handful of individuals, all of which were simply businessmen. Fotiagos never questioned the nature of his client’s intentions. His only motive was surviving and one needed money in order to do so. Taking one’s life mostly resulted in an increase in price thanks to the mustelid’s dislike of murder. Somewhat infrequently he would accept the normal reward for ending a life. The job he just completed was his last for this region and deep within his mind, he had a fear that local law enforcement agencies were closing in on him which irked him significantly. It was highly necessary to quickly return to his temporary residence to grab his things and depart. It was only one thing in particular and it was the sole object absent from his typical appearance seen currently. Regret dwelled within him for if it were in his possession at this moment, his departure would be instantaneous. Then again, with his last job, having any sort of metal with him would have been hazardous. With the already high security, metal detectors were more than plentiful to discover most weapons. In retrospect, the confidence he has in his skills should have guided him through completion with little difficulties regardless. All he could do now is focus on fixing his mistake.
The wolverine reached his destination; a small and rundown, one story motel only the lowest of society would inhabit. Much to his frustration, several squad cars surrounded the vicinity. Their flashing lights mimicked the uncanny coloration of his shaggy fur. The sound of numerous mumbled conversations filled the small round ears perked atop his head. Fotiagos analyzed the position of the policemen while hiding within the shadows a safe distance away. 4 cars were scattered around with the coppers close by, most of which were way too close to his room. Two or three were in the front office speaking with the hotel manager. Why he decided to stick with a room straight in the middle was a mystery to him. There was only one way to go about this and it would take a few moments. The azure fur on the left side of his body began donning a glow. Of course with his hood, sleeves and pant legs, only his exposed fingers and his lengthy tail were visible. Anybody close by would feel a gradual decrease in temperature, but thankfully he was far away from his enemies. Strangely, his left eye also began a gradual change; slowly fading from the usual black color into blue. This was Fotiagos’ gift; to alter not only cold temperatures, but hot ones as well. Certain abilities were granted once enough time passed and this is what he was waiting ever so pertinently for.
“Crunch, did you find anything?” asked a hulking bear with his powerful voice as a jade armadillo approached him. He was one of the individuals standing beside Fotiagos’ room. These two, much like their fellow officers, adorned the Station Square Police uniform. Their attire mainly consisted of dark blue with black accents. All wore badges while only some like the bear wore hats. They were equipped with standard issued weaponry which included two pairs of handcuffs, a nightstick, a Taser, a Walkman and a 9mm pistol; all of which was found on their belts.
“The culprit hasn’t been located yet, Chief. Although with the help of the manager, this was found in the room he stayed in.” Crunch replied. As he spoke, he gave a gesture towards another officer. She was a gray wolf that approached the two holding an “X” shaped purple scabbard. She was rather delicate looking, especially with her warm and comforting golden eyes. Taking her lightly however, would result in unpleasant consequences as she could swiftly take down her adversaries within a matter of seconds. This was indeed the item Fotiagos wished to have right this second. What she held in her hands housed two very important tools for him. The twin Dao swords Ignis and Glacies had been of extremely great use to the wolverine. For the last 13 years he was in possession of these and in no way was he to replace them.
“Thank you, Alexia.” The Chief said as he held the scabbard and examined them. The hilts were different in color from each other with one blue and the other red and both had a slight curve to it. The guards were black in color and disk-shaped with an additional cup shape on the top and bottom. The scabbard itself had minor amounts of wear and tear and seemed to be in pretty well kept condition. “So these are the weapons of the Arctic Inferno? He won't need them anymore." He went on, his furry tan muzzle twisting to the shape of a frown. Knowing so many lives were taken by what he held in his arms brought much anger to his heart. “Crunch, take these down to HQ, I’ll finish up here. It looks like he’s moved on again. I’ll get patrols to scan the city and set roadblocks along the borders.” He continued, handing the armadillo the scabbard. Crunch gave his commanding officer a salute before making his way to his vehicle with a quick jog. His partner, Alexia, accompanied him in the passenger side.
“Okay men. Pack it up!” Chief shouted so all his squad members can hear him. No words were said after that, only the sound of multiple footsteps as well as the opening and closing of car doors. Engines roared into life as the officers began making their departure. The Chief was the last in his car, his piercing orange orbs taking one last look at the scene before speeding off. Undetected and safe in his hiding spot, the now heterochromic eyes of a predator stalked the car that held his swords prisoner as it left the parking lot. Now was the time to make his move.
Crunch’s violet eyes fixed on the road ahead; his hands loosely grasped the steering wheel. His posture suggested he was relaxed and optimistic about finding the target. The armadillo was still a rather new officer and though his skills had moved him up in the ranks quickly; his greatest flaw was how naïve he was. He and his gray furred partner had just made their way out of the hotel parking lot and onto the straight road ahead. Two cars were ahead of him while the Chief’s was trailing close behind. The once tranquil officer became instantly alert as the sound of the engine dying down was heard. The reason for this was a thick sheet of ice blanketing the entire exterior of the car. This resulted in a sudden stop which caused them to lash forward. The seatbelts locked themselves instinctively, sparing them a blow on the dashboard or the steering wheel in Crunch’s case. Before the two can even react, a torrent of ice and glass shards rained upon Crunch. His shell had deflected most of the damage, but scrapes covered his face and a small portion of his chest. A spiked red fist had crashed through and dealt additional damage to the armadillo by striking him against his muzzle. In an already diluted state, the punch rendered him unconscious and his limp body slumped over the wheel. Alexia jolted into action and reached for the gun on her hip. With remarkable speed, the weapon was free of its holster and aiming at the attacking predator. Fotiagos was quicker however and had placed his other arm in place of his red one. The once blue fur attained a cyan color and a flurry of icicles shrouded it. His palm was facing towards her and the second she took aim, a sphere of ice was formed and released. Before she can pull the trigger, her long furred, gray body became frozen solid. An infuriated expression was fixed on her unmoving face. The violet scabbard was placed in-between the two seats, unscathed with both swords present. A slamming door caught his attention. The Chief had exited his vehicle and had his pistol ready to end this here and now. Remaining somber and vigilant, a dense blockade of ice was formed to hopefully block the bear’s bullets. A gunshot filled his ears with pain as he reached inside for his prize, shattering more of the icy windows to do so. Rather uneasy at first, the sound of a second clang eased his worries. His barrier was doing its job, but it wouldn’t last for long. Not to mention the officers to his other side realized their allies were no longer following them. Grabbing one of the two bottoms, he hastily pulled his body from the police car, destroying whatever part of the window that remained. As he did this, his left leg formed a platform of ice behind him. Turning around, it became a ramp he utilized as transportation much like a sort of hoverboard.
The Cryomancer left a trail of ice behind him as he sped off with multiple guns being fired at him. Given the speed and distance, he was able to fortunately come out unharmed. He vanished into a narrow alleyway which barely gave him any room to maneuver. He took this opportunity to fasten the dark gray straps in an identical pattern as the scabbard across the ovular tuft of purple fur adorning his broad chest. But this wasn’t the time to relax. The sounds of sirens were blaring in all directions. As he exited the alley, a cop car was turning the nearby corner heading straight for him. He bolted the other way, just about missing a sideswipe from another officer’s car. This portion of Station Square was cluttered with tarnished structures. One would have to make a turn relatively frequent. Fotiagos was to take advantage of this with his impressive control over his ice ramp. Executing turns would take little to no effort compared to the time it takes for a car. It was essential to find a place to hide soon. It would only be a matter of time before they sent helicopters along with numerous other ground vehicles which would make things far too problematic for the Thermomancer. Making every turn as swift as the next, the sirens became more distant. Fotiagos soon found himself in a more forested area. He never even considered stopping and simply kept moving forward.
==Chapter 2: The beginning of a rivalry==
Fotiagos proceeded with his travels. He felt as if he was on a constant incline and his breathing became progressively more difficult the higher he got. It didn’t matter to him as he would keep going until the boundaries of his Cryokinetic abilities are breached. Such a limitation came sooner than he thought. The wolverine reached a flat area covered mostly with rocky terrain. The ice covering his body melted back into his blue fur and his means of transportation vanished. Given his speed and unawareness of his powers being reached, he found himself sailing through the air with a surprised shout. He landed with a thud on his front side and slid a fair distance before coming to a halt with pain enveloping his body from the rocks. A grunt of annoyance fled his muzzle once he had finally stopped. After some time spent gathering himself, he flopped over onto his back with a long exhale. Astonishment welcomed him as his eyes centered on the tip of a dark brown staff being pointed at the middle of his forehead. The one behind the weapon was above the wolverine.
“State your business here!” A stern and strong but strangely young voice demanded. Fotiagos lifted his head up slightly to see a pair of angered emerald irises staring down at him.
“It’s none of your concern.” He retorted back coldly. His interrogator would see only a blur of red as the crimson handle of Ignis was firmly grasped with his right hand. Using the momentum from unsheathing it, he took a quick, one-handed swing for the knees of the stranger. The figure took a quick leap backwards, allowing Fotiagos to swiftly jump back to his feet. He whirled around to see who questioned him. A russet creature with jade streaks stood before him. Half green dreadlocks of various lengths hung across his head. Whiskers protruding from his tan skinned muzzle swayed gently in the light wind. Tan and dark brown facial markings were seen as he gave the mustelid a deep glare. What the most outlandish attribute of this stranger was the markings on his forehead, hands and feet; all of which much like the staff he firmly held, illuminated a green glow. There were 5 of them visible, but the wolverine assumed there were more hidden from sight.
“The city; it grows loud and the flashing lights disturb my peace. I have reason to believe you are responsible. Leave this place at once!” He exclaimed with an accusing tone. Fotiagos simply replied with a dismissive huff and sheathed his weapon. Without even uttering a word, he glanced at the city which appeared so small from this distance. Lights of many colors were seen and barely audible sirens resonated throughout the buildings. He was fortunate to have escaped the city and was hoping nobody would be trailing him considering his ramp left a vanishing path of ice behind. He turned his back to his former residence to venture further in the mountain. This would make an acceptable location to contemplate his next course of action. Confusion filled his eyes as right in front of him, a wall of rock formed seemingly from nowhere. He even placed both palms across it in disbelief, as if he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. He felt the smooth and cold rocky surface as he applied a light push.
“You are not allowed entry into my home.” Came a voice, the same who demanded he leave. An awestruck Fotiagos hesitantly turned his head to see the russet figure holding out an open palm towards the wolverine with the rest of his body upright. The staff he once held had somehow shrunk to the point it can secure itself with the pockets of his baggy tan pants.
“Don’t get in my way!” Fotiagos snarled, his fangs exposed and red fur glowing briefly in anger. He faced his head forward and stepped to the side to walk past the wall. Yet another barrier formed and blocked his way. His body began shaking to a small extent and his hand clenched into tight fists. The red fur continued to glow to the point that the temperature began to make a steady increase. “You obviously choose to ignore my warnings.” He snapped, giving his foe a deep glare of fiery hatred as he turned to face him. He reached both hands over his shoulders and firmly grasped the handles of his weapons. With a swift pull, the sowrdsman unleashed his twin blades.
“I am Terrador, guardian of my mountainous abode. I keep these hills safe from harm and allow them to prosper with life. Impurities much like you are poison to my land. You chose to disregard my advice and if you wish to resolve it with battle, be forewarned it will be unpleasant for you.” He replied, his tone and facial expression was rigid like the earth below their feet. His staff and forehead marking donned the same green glow again. Fotiagos watched in amazement as the weapon began floating through the air and regain its size he saw before. It completed half an orbit around its wielder before being firmly grasped. A few rapid and impressive swings were performed before he assumed a fighting stance, eyes locked on the red and blue intruder like a laser. The Thermomancer gripped his blades tightly and shuffled his feet around slowly, glaring back with equal intensity. He knew this staff wielder was no opponent to easily overcome with the obvious skill he possessed with that weapon. Not to mention this area consisted of rock and this individual had shown he can control it with remarkable speed and accuracy. Fotiagos had plenty of tools to deploy as well and he was determined to bring them out to their fullest. This would potentially be the most challenging skirmish of his in quite some time.
Meanwhile, several helicopters scanned every last portion of Station Square with their extraordinary spotlights. An aggravated bear was a passenger on one of these. His massive body leaning out viewing the city with high-powered, night vision binoculars. A voice heard from his belt caused him to place the goggles down beside him.
“I can’t find him, sir. He’s not on any of the footage.” A shy and timid voice spoke.
“What do you mean there’s no sign of him!?” The Chief demanded into his Walkman. The one on the other line was an small and thin ivory otter by the name of Specs. He was in the central headquarters, his large glasses looking over the many monitors. Security cameras were placed throughout the city and this otter was looking over the footage taken by all cameras within a 30 minute time frame. This is how long their search had been going on. Half a cup of coffee rested near his massive keyboard. Black slacks and a white buttoned-up shirt with its long sleeves rolled up to his elbows was his choice of attire. The shirt was tucked in underneath the black leather belt. His muscles tightened up and his ears flattened to his head hearing the bear shout.
“I’m sorry, Chief. He must’ve gotten lucky and slipped out of one of our very few blind spot.” He replied.
“Great work nevertheless, Specs. Keep your eyes peeled though. He could still be out there.” Chief stated much more calm, placing the Walkman near the goggles. His mind instantly directed towards a certain individual who had helped out greatly once in the past. While this individual refused any forthcoming assistance considering his current apprehension, the police needed his skillset right now with tracking the fugitive down.
“Ace, I need you to take me somewhere.” He requested. The pilot was an eagle, his white feathered, helmeted head turned slightly towards the bear. He handed the avian a sheet of paper with an address written on it. Accepting it with one hand, he unraveled it with his fingers. Recognizing the location, a small grin stretched along his golden beak.
“Roger sir.” He said with a nod, gripping the wheel with both his brown fingerless gloves. The copter made a turnabout and hastily made its way for the Chief’s desired destination.
Category:Fanfiction