Aspect Elemental: By Amanda Flowers

There were no armies, no objects, no life of any kind, and especially no "general". The room contained nothing but stone walls--the actual color, Donatello noted, of stone--which were, frightfully, a lot closer to the turtle than he had imagined they should be. He was alone, and this was nothing beyond a dark, dank prison cell.

He turned back to the entrance only to discover it completely merged with the wall; not even the outline of a door was visible. He gritted his teeth. Tricked! After all the...

   "Donatello."

He jumped. That voice, heavy and calm...that hadn't come from his mouth! That had come...from the walls of the room itself--directionless! Or maybe...maybe he had just imagined it--after all, walls didn't talk...

   "You've come," said the room.

Don jumped again, if with slightly more restraint. "I--I'm Donatello," he offered. "Are you the General?"

At this the walls laughed, the friendly sound tickling Donatello's feet. "I see you've been speaking with my Sergeant."

Donatello nodded. He had hoped not to offend...

   "He was soft on you," the strange voice knew.

Don jumped to the Sergeant's defense. "Sort of...but there was a pretty good fight back there!"

   "I see that," the room replied.

Suddenly Donatello became intensely aware of his injuries: the cuts decorating his body; his battered weapon; and especially the injury he couldn't see, the ripping at the back of his shell, which for all he knew might never heal completely.

   "Do you understand why you have come to this place?" the walls asked.

Donatello did not, and his expression served enough to admit that.

   "It was all part of your test."

   "What is the test?" Don asked.

From the wall in front of him emerged a great face, the face of a kind, older man. A beard of moss and lichen grew on the stone chin; the eyes, kind and dark, were of jet. Hands sprouted from the wall, each enormous, and these, too, were made entirely of stone. As the huge creature left the wall's confines completely, the ceiling stretched to give him room; the walls expanded likewise. The giant, to Donatello's increasing awe, grew to full height, then receded, shrinking down to a manageable, though still encompassing, size.

   "I am Elterram," the stone man offered, standing now in the center of a cathedral-sized room. "I am your elemental."

   "My what?" Don recovered slowly from the initial shock.

   "Think of me, not as a general," Elterram offered kindly, "but more of a guardian."

Elementals. One for each...Wind, Fire, Water...and Earth...

   "Then, is my test ended here?"

The elemental rose his hand toward the ceiling, and a stone altar sprouted from the ground. Simultaneously the room was filled with tiny purple flowers...no, not true flowers, for as petals each had glowing jewels that filled the room with a sleepy violet light. A path was cut through the strange fauna to the front of the altar, upon which lie a great weapon, a bo, perfectly crafted, the likes of which Donatello had never seen.

Love for all things scientific vanished in that hazy twilight. Donatello approached the weapon carefully, stared. It was like his...and yet, so much unlike it. So flawless, and charged with some intangible power. "Am I..." he could scarcely believe it--"to take this?"

   "It is yours."

He reached one hand to the altar, just one hand, just to see, but without warning the weapon was in his arms. He was one with this bo... He was one with the whole place: the ground, the rock, all Earth... He felt the world's great age encompassing him in that one, strange moment.

He had completed the Trial by Earth.

Light from the open ceiling flashed in Michaelangelo's eyes as he carefully approached the injured bird. The animal stared at him with those same dark eyes, probing him, trying to judge his intent. Mike felt around the broken wing and, meeting no protest, found the location of the injury. He was no expert, but it couldn't have been too terrible if the bird could still fly with it. He probed up further, and, suddenly, the bird squacked. It pecked at the offending hand, drawing blood. "Hey!" Mike cried. "Dude, no cheating! I'm only trying to help!"

Whatever Mike had done to cause it pain had actually healed the bird somewhat, and it took a few hops away, looking at the turtle with fondness and less trepidation. It squealed, and flapped both wings excitedly.

   "Okay, birdie bud, let's play!" Mike exclaimed, rubbing the sore hand. "Just don't bite me, okay?"

The white head bobbed, in a both friendly and teasing manner.

Suddenly, Mike remembered why he was here...the altar! He ventured a quick glance at the prize.

He had caught only a glimpse of the nunchaku when the bird seemed to read his thoughts. A blur of white, it streaked over to the paired weapons and grasped them in its strong talons. Laughing the laugh of a bird it took to the air, swooping lazy circles about the circumference of the dome. "Hey!" Michaelangelo shouted. He leapt at the bird, who dodged him playfully. More than ever now, he needed those weapons!

He frowned, and reached for his grappling hook. He hated to hurt it, but... Three quick circles around, and he was lined up to throw. He let the shell-shaped hook fly, and it tangled around the bird's golden legs. It tried to pull away, but the rope held, feathers flying to all sides from the noisy struggle.

   "Easy now..." Mike attempted to reel the bird in, like a kite. "I'm not gonna hurt you..." He certainly hoped he wouldn't. Just a few yards more...

Without warning, the bird's midair struggle ceased. The flapping had stopped, but the pull on the rope was even greater as it held its place in the air. Michaelangelo nearly fell over from the force of it. The room was immensely quiet, but...lighter, somehow...like the calm before the rush of a great storm, or the space in the eye of a hurricane. An outpouring of whiteness filled the room; Mike turned his head, blinded.

When the light subsided he rose his gaze, and discovered, no longer a giant, white bird at the end of his line, but a woman! The pure white gown she wore fluttered about her in an unfelt wind; her blonde hair fell down past her feet--at the top of her head, forming a golden crest like that of the bird. Her eyes were the eyes of the bird: deep, black, and probing. The bird's same wings grew from her back, whole and uninjured. In her right hand, she held the paired nunchaku she had retrieved; in the other, she held the end of Michaelangelo's hook.

Mike could do no more than gape.

The woman laughed slightly at the turtle's expression. "Greetings, Michaelangelo," she said lightly.

   "Duuuuude..." Mike slurred. He shook himself off. "I mean, uh, dudette!"

The bird-woman laughed again, and tossed the end of the grappler back to Michaelangelo. He caught it stupidly.

   "Who are you?" he ventured.

   "I am Viento," she replied. "Elemental of Air." She tripped through the air to the altar, and calmly laid the new weapons upon it. "You are here," she said, answering the unasked question, "to be tested."

   "Huh?" Mike blinked. "Well, you must have wanted me to pass it..." he realized, "or you wouldn't have left that note!"

Viento smiled. "We do want you to win...all of you."

   "All of...?"

A thought suddenly dawned on the elemental, and she raised her arms to the sky. "Look around you."

Michaelangelo turned, facing the front of the room, where his entrance had predictably vanished. Here in its place were five, huge white screens, each filling a rectangular panel on the far wall. An image appeared on the left-most: a blue, underwater hall, and a quick glimpse of the turtles' leader traversing it. The second screen depicted a labyrinth, and as Michaelangelo watched it panned out far enough to encompass the whole of it, endless passages entwining. The next screen showed Mike's very own Trial, the milky sky dotted with painted clouds. The fourth was of halls of purple rock, and a glimpse, however brief, of Donatello injured among glowing violets. The last screen was the most puzzling, and flared to life only seconds before all five shut down, though it seemed to show machinery, and a long hall of silvery metal.

The walls grew blank.

   "Huh?" A thought dawned on Michaelangelo. "Metal. I saw Metal! Who's that?"

Viento lowered her arms. "There is no more I can say." With a seemingly heavy heart, she laid the nunchaku on the altar behind her. Her eyes shone as she nodded in Michaelangelo's direction.

The turtle approached the weapons, climbing the pearl stairs to stand next to the paper-light woman. "Are these mine? These are...so totally awesome...!"

   "Take them," the bird-woman softly directed.

Michaelangelo did, clasping tightly onto both at once. Like wind itself, unfathomable power surged into him: wild, unpredictable.

He had completed the Trial By Air.

The staircase spiraled down, straight into the floor of the maze. Raphael grumbled. A flight of stairs going down in a world of fire had to mean bad news. But, besides torturing himself further with the endless passageways he'd left behind, what other choice was there? It might be a nice change of pace. Raphael took up the magical hammer--one never knew when it might come in handy--and started down on the treacherous stone steps.

At first, the bottom of the pit was no where in sight, the passage leading into tangible darkness. But, after Raphael had lost sight of his entryway, he began to imagine there was a light at the bottom. A red light: an eternal flame, glowing on, beckoning. As he descended he reached a point where he knew he wasn't merely imagining it: there was a flame, so many miles below the ground, and that was why he had come this way.

The light in the room at the bottom was amazing. Raphael had never known such light, and, as his feet touched the floor of the lower room, he noticed that it all originated from one, single flame, on a pedestal in the center. It glowed with the heat of the sun, and, yet, as Raph noticed with puzzlement, it neither hurt to stand near it, nor to look directly into it. In fact, he couldn't move his gaze away, and he drew nearer...

It suddenly occurred to him to stay on guard for Pyrax or some greater foe, and he tightened his grip on the hammer. The fire flared.

As it did, a tall figure entered the room, using not the staircase, but entering directly through the opposite wall. It was a man, nearly human, but with hair and eyes of pure flame. He wore full armor, bronze in color, and a cape that flickered and shifted as the light did. Raphael knew. Helion. He stood at ready, not trusting.

The man of flame glared at him, staring with glowing eyes, trying to probe his soul. "Raphael," he concluded. "So, Pyrax did lead you here."

   "Nah, I showed myself in," Raph snapped, glaring back. The flame burned healthily at his side.

   "Ah," said Helion. "He gave you no trouble at all?" the elemental asked, not believing it for a minute.

   "Not at all," Raph said, cockily.

Helion stared a moment longer, glaring, fiery eyes clouded in thought. "She may have been..."

   "What?" Raph wondered.

Helion shook it away. He pointed a gloved hand at the room's powerful fire. "Look," he instructed, "into the flame."

Raphael shot another dark glance at Helion, but did as he asked. Unlike what he had expected, he saw nothing new: no images, no prophecies. But it felt good to look into the fire. He didn't think he could ever look away... The flame died, only a little.

The elemental gasped. "You...you can tame it, then..." he mused.

   "So, what's supposed to happen, Helium?" Raph snapped, still seeing nothing new. The flame grew again at the words.

Helion scowled, disbelieving. He took a step backwards. "Throw the hammer into the flame," he instructed.

Raphael hesitated. No. No, no, he couldn't look away just now. He couldn't lose the weapon...

   "Do it!" the elemental yelled, suddenly angered. "Don't waste my time!"

Raph grumbled, and the flame flared even brighter. He struggled his eyes away, for only a second, and hefted the hammer above his shoulder. He lifted it high, ready to smash it down hard...but what would he smite? The fire, or the hammer? He glared at the fire, and over, again, at Helion, seeing the elemental's orange eyes narrow in malicious intent.

Without warning, Raphael turned from the fire, and brought the hammer down upon the fiery man. The unexpected strike hit hard, knocking Helion to the ground, while the flame on the pedestal burned with impossible brightness. "Leave me the heck alone!!" Raphael shouted, and as he did the fire framed him, coloring him like a beast from the abyss. "I'll take my own time on this...stupid quest for destiny!!" He spun back to the fire, nearly filling the room, and let the hammer go. As soon as the enchanted weapon touched the flames, it disintegrated, the fire burning every molecule of it away.

Helion rose to his feet, laughing. "Yes! Good!" he cried, taking in the glory of the fire. "Now, your weapons!"

   "What?!"

   "Your weapons!" Helion shouted, gleefully. "Throw them in!"

   "Why should I trust you?!" The sound of the fire was so great, Raphael had to shout to hear his own words.

   "I would ask you the same, but now, I know...!"

Raph pulled out one sai, and held it threateningly. "Know what?"

   "You are the one!" Helion cried.

   "The One?!" The fire increased again as Raphael's voice did, filling the room with incredible heat.

And suddenly, he realized it, as sure as Helion answered:

   "This flame. It is yours."

Raph turned to face the fire again, watching it, letting the heat of it encompass himself, the room. It burned as his anger burned, and the more he hated, the more it grew.

Summoning all his willpower, he threw his sais into the fire: one first, then the other. Unlike the hammer, they survived, sitting in the heart of the glow, waiting on the pedestal for the flames to consume them.

   "Yes!" Helion exclaimed. "Now, take them again."

Raphael reached into the fire, expecting the heat to cause immeasurable pain. He was surprised when it did not. Instead, it felt good. Welcoming. The flame danced up his arms, enveloping flesh, but never consuming. He closed his hands around the hilts of the reforged sais, and the flame took him completely, the power burning all around him, within him.

He had completed the Trial by Fire.

Aquaria gazed into her magical pool, seeing within a reddish world, the land of flames. How perfect! Three of the turtles had passed, and Helion, even Helion, as reluctant as he was to accept any plan of the Water element, had taken the fiery one in.

What the others had chosen was not now her concern--though she knew that Sombresh of Darkness had picked close to home, and his sister of Light... Certainly, this would be the most powerful elemental reign yet, with so many elementals knowing each other in life! Many were left to be tested, but most were chosen that needed to be... Only Venessa of Poison had been reluctant to choose: that snake would do anything to keep her position. And a pity, too, when one so perfect thrived, near--

And what of Talloc? Aquaria's thoughts interrupted themselves, but she dismissed that impulse for now. She had guessed the choice, and while it would make a powerful Metal element, it might be unjust...

But that was what testing was for.

She waved a three-fingered hand over her pool, and gazed within to a different view, of blue hallways in her own watery domain. He had won the necklace, and was coming! Nothing more behind those doors; come back the way you came before. Through the water and into the air, and back to the room with the walls of glass...that's the way...

He was coming! And Water's hold on the elements would be complete!

Leonardo stood, once more, in the glass-walled observatory. There was only one control he had left to try, and this the most foreboding "Wall Release". Still, it seemed like a route of escape, and if he could breathe the water here...

...though small animals couldn't...

...what would be the harm?

He gritted his teeth and pulled the heavy switch.

Nothing happened.

He looked around at the control panel, to see if any gauges had changed, and found nothing different. Frustrated and puzzled, Leonardo left the aquarium room, back into the short glass hall.

There was no visible difference here...no, wait! Something had changed about the walls here: something almost insignificant. He put his hand along one of the clear sides, and was shocked to feel it slide all the way through, meeting no barrier, and contacting the water beyond! But... that was impossible...something had to be keeping the water balanced like that. This was just floating in midair!