Lina shot upright as the door to the storefront flew inward, slamming against the wall with a resounding crash as it was thrown on its hinges. Before she could fully process what was happening the lock to her cage flared into brilliant light and an acrid stench singed her nostrils.
Even though Eschen had acted disinterested in her escape plan, the ifrit had been ready to fulfill his role in the operation. Lina stumbled to the door of her cage and pushed it open in a spray of molten iron and sparks, only to be knocked over as the entire shelf jumped with the force of an impact.
Crawling forward on her hands and knees Lina leaned out of her cage over the edge of the shelf, looking down at a large human being pinned underneath the Black Dog. His arms were raised in front of his face, desperately trying to stop the creature from savaging him. Tourmaline wished she could help the poor man, but she had other goals and there was frightful little she could do against such a monster. Instead she ran to Eschen’s cage, helping the diminutive flame sprite through the slagged opening to his cell.The ifrit staggered weakly past the smoking remnants of the lock and paused when his eyes fell on the Dog. More humans were pouring into the shop under a withering assault of magical energy, their spherical ward flashing and popping as it fended off the attacks.
Lina pulled Eschen along behind her, staggering over to the next cage on their shelf. Its occupant, a spider the size of a house cat, frightened Tourmaline. The gnome’s hands shook as they worked the latch on the cage door. Eschen shook her shoulder in an effort to get her attention, however she’d finally freed the latch from whatever rust or contact weld held it closed and pulled the door open. She stepped back to allow its occupant through, however the arachnid cowered further into the cage instead. Its black orb-like eyes shimmered from the shadows as Eschen’s efforts to grab her attention intensified. Eleanore turned to snap at him only to find Eschen wasn’t looking at her at all but staring into the shop floor, his expression wracked by horror.
Following his gaze Lina saw the Merchant in all his monstrous glory, wreathed in a pale glow twisted about his frame in thick vine-like cords. The same cables of energy crawled along the floor and up the shelves nearest to the merchant. When they touched someone, either the invading humans or the creatures trapped in their cages, their victim would crumple like a puppet with its strings cut. They didn’t cry out even as their visages twisted in pain, instead only whimpering weakly as the power began to subsume them. The spider, likely realizing it had even odds of being assaulted by the tendrils of foul, sickly power if it stayed in its cage, scuttled past them and up into the shadows near the ceiling. Tourmaline pulled Eschen from where he looked on, enraptured by the horror of the Merchant’s display and pushed him towards the next cage on the shelf.
Eschen stopped her only moments later, stepping in front of her as a figure touched down on the shelf in front of them. The ifrit glowered at the newcomer, but Lina’s heart soared as she recognized the man in front of them. She rushed forward, pushing past Eschen and slamming into Pug’s chest, rocking him backwards. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tightly, the fairy grunting as his thin bones bent under the pressure. Still, he hugged her back, pressing his face into the top of her head. The moment couldn’t last for long among all the chaos and as they broke away from each other her hands brushed something cold and metallic.
Peering around his back curiously, a rising tide of miserable guilt forced its way from where it boiled in her gut to her throat. Memory flashed to the sickening tearing sound his flesh had made as they pulled him apart. Even as she gaped in awe at his new wings she couldn’t help but mourn his loss. He’d be disfigured in the eyes of his peers, even more so than he had been before. The delicate silver filigree was interwoven with eddying currents of prismatic magic that allowed her friend to fly, making him look as though he flew on wings crafted from the auroras of the night sky. It was beautiful, mesmerizing, and wholly unnatural, last fact being the key fact in the eyes of many fairies. Pug caught her staring and, correctly inferring her awe and wonder, smiled smugly.
“Are you just going to stand there and ogle me? I’m more than my wings, you know.” Pug laughed, dodging away from her as slapped at him. “Is that how you say hello to a friend who came back from the dead?”
“It’s strange, people in the stories usually don’t come back from the dead prettier than before.” Lina flicked one of his wings to demonstrate, causing it to hum momentarily like a tuning fork.
“Did you just call me pretty?” He said, batting his eyes at her.
“I said you were prettier. You’re still ugly for a fairy.” Lina stuck her tongue out at him as he faked a pout, her heart lighter than it had been in days upon seeing her friend again
“I don’t mean to interrupt, but perhaps we should move along?” Eschen piped up from behind her, gesturing at the chaos unfolding on the shop floor below.
“You’re right, this isn’t the place for a reunion. We need to free as many prisoners as we can.” Tourmaline sobered, mirth drying as she remembered their still desperate situation. Pug stepped around her as she considered their next move, greeting Eschen.
Tourmaline let out a half-hearted grunt of annoyance as Pug tousled her hair, eyeing the fairy as he held out his hand to the ifrit. The ifrit regarded the outstretched limb in confusion for a moment before tentatively reaching out and grasping the fairy’s hand. He held it uncertainly as Pug shook their joined hands up and down, and gave a confused smile as Pug broke the handshake.
“I’m Pug, a friend of Tourmaline and a fairy, despite the wings.” Pug said cheerily.
“My name is Eschen. The gnome pressured me into helping her escape. I am an ifrit.” Eschen replied bluntly
“I take it you haven’t found Jet yet?” Pug asked Tourmaline, tense with concern.
“No, I haven’t seen him since I got here.” Lina said quietly.
A thin film of tears obscured her vision for a moment, but she wiped them away before they could fall. Eschen looked away awkwardly, shuffling his feet, which Pug saw but didn’t comment on, though the fairy narrowed his eyes at him. He suspected Tourmaline knew the ifrit knew more than he was letting on, but was afraid to press him. Perhaps deep down she worried about what he had to say.
“I’d love to help you guys free these people, but the Warden’s are entirely unprepared to fight the Dog.” Pug walked to the edge of the shelf, ready to drop into the void below.
“Between the Dog and the Merchant the humans aren’t going to last long.” Eschen reasoned. “We ought to rescue as many of our own as we can and flee. We can bring this to the Queen, she has the strength to deal with this monster.”
“The Merchant would be long gone with everyone we failed to rescue by then.” Tourmaline said quietly.
“I have friends down there.” Pug said, and Tourmaline knew he’d go to fight no matter what she said. “You two focus on getting as many people out as you can.”
“Alright.” Tourmaline hoped she sounded confident, her voice didn’t betray how viciously rapid her heart was beating. “You just keep Dog from barking.”
Pug gave her a quick nod and a trademark mischief ridden grin before stepping off the shelf and into thin air. Tourmaline hustled over to the next cage, whispering reassuring words to the occupant as she fiddled with the lock. She couldn’t help but notice Eschen refused to meet her gaze, guilt writ large across his face. She favored the ifrit with a sharp kick to the shin and, once she had his attention, tilted her head at another cage. Whatever he knew, it didn’t change the fact they had to save as many people as they could. Jet would never forgive her if she, in her haste to learn of his whereabouts and his fate, ignored the plight of those right in front of her.
***
A lump grew in Pug’s throat as he soared away from his friend. Parting from her so soon after finding her again tore at his heart, however he worried if he didn’t help the wardens none of them would make it out of here. Caimon was doing everything he could to hold off the magical assault by the creature allegedly owned the store, a being called the Merchant, though Pug felt naming convention might be a little on the nose. However, left no one with any particular supernatural expertise to hand the Black Dog. Alphonse was still wrestling with the thing, his arms bleeding from where the beast had savaged him as he held it off. The foul beast had already broken free from the warden once, pouncing on another warden and bringing the poor man down. While Alphonse pulled it off of his comrade as quickly as possible, the fallen Warden hadn’t stood back up. Alphonse hadn’t let the beast free since, his expression one of grim determination.
Every now and again a bolt or writhing feeler of pallid and sickly energy would break through or slip past the shield Caimon was maintaining and strike someone. Sometimes it was a glancing blow and a yelp of pain, but others were brought low, squirming and cramping with pain. Pug had been thrown free from his perch on Thalia’s shoulder when she’d been hit, the impact, not blunted by Caimon’s wards, throwing her straight back outside. He had left his friend outside in the dirt of the street, gasping for air through the pain. He’d been forced to leave her in the care of the second wizard who remained outside. There was little he could do for her now besides end the fight as soon as he could. Pug didn’t see Reid either and the fairy was forced to hope the Inquirer was alright and taking command of the situation.
Pug drew back his wings and dropped, weaving between stray shreds of energy floated through the air like sullen thunderclouds. Aiming himself with the barest of twitches, he dove at the Black Dog where it sat on Alphonse’s chest. The burly Warden’s strength was failing and the monster’s maw was opened wide as it struggled to get its jaws around his throat. It was, therefore, entirely unprepared for Pug as the fairy slammed his booted foot into its eye. A deceptively pathetic yelp sounded as the creature flinched away from him. Pug grit his teeth and thrust his spear into its ear to anchor himself in place and give the beast little room to resume its assault on the beleaguered Alphonse. The hound shook its head viciously in a simple but effective attempt to dislodge him.
His teeth clacked closed as he was jerked to the side, his arms shot through with searing pain as he was pulled along after the beast. Alfonse shook his head to clear his vision, eyes going wide in incredulity as he saw Pug where he clung to his spear. The Dog, distracted as it was by Pug’s persistent attempts to kick it in the eye as he was flung about, didn’t realize Alphonse had gone on the offensive. Most people would have had a difficult time managing an effective blow from the floor, laying on their back after being ruthlessly savaged. Alphonse, a mountain of a man, didn’t have that issue. He belted out a vicious right hook and caught the monster on its jaw. The blow caught the creature entirely unawares, snapping its head to the side and into one of the many shelves lining the store. Heavy as it was, the Dog jostled several cages from where they perched when it impacted. The enclosures fell with their occupants still inside, screaming as they crashed onto the three combatants where they remained entangled with each other. Several cages burst open, their occupants scattering to the winds as they fled the chaos. An empty crate clipped Pug, his spear tearing through the Dog’s ear as he was sent to the floor.
Another, full of a misty yet oddly thick and viscous gas, landed on the Dog’s back where it got pinned between the dog and the shelf. The gas inside congealed into a blob, the vague impression of faces appearing in its glistening surface as though creatures were trapped inside and pushing against its outer membrane in a desperate attempt to escape. Hollow eyes and shadowed mouths opened wide, and a muted keening could be heard. The bars of the cage, which had been carved with runes to keep whatever it was inside, had bent and allowed, if not total escape, at least some interaction with the world outside its cage. The silhouetted faces pushed out and into the Black Dog’s smokey fur. The Dog yelped again and attempted to pull away, but the creature in the cage had latched onto it and was carried along as the Dog tried to escape.
The Dog, deciding discretion was the better part of valor, scurried away. Alphonse was still struggling to his feet, the blood he’d lost leaving him faint and weak. Pug stabbed out with his spear in an effort to slow the beast and scored a light hit against its back left paw, earning himself a vicious kick to the chest for his trouble. Knocked back against the cage that had fallen on him, Pug took the moment to unlatch the cage and free the captive. The being inside, some sort of chimeric combination between a toad and a hare. It wriggled its nose and flicked its ear in thanks before hopping away.
Alphonse finally pulled himself to his feet and Pug flew up to perch on his shoulder. Pug was forced to brace against the sweat-slicked skin of his neck as the human’s chest heaved with his panting breaths. The pair of them regarded the Black Dog with no small amount of concern as a low rumbling began in its chest. Its coal red eyes flicked across the storefront and assessed the situation. Apparently deciding the situation was untenable it opened its slavering jaws wide and issued forth a mournful howl. Its intensity caused Pug’s bones to vibrate, an echo of e haunting noise reverberating throughout the building. Waves of sound set teeth to rattling and cages jittering wildly against the wooden platforms they sat upon.
A lull emerged in the fighting as people recovered from an assault was, at the same time, sonic, mental, and spiritual. Even the foul man-like Merchant, wreathed as he was in dark power, paused for a moment and placed a hand on his chest as though checking his heart still beat in his breast. Pug remembered the stories his father had told him and while he’d like to believe his father was simply trying to scare a recalcitrant child it was entirely possible the myths were true. If so, this dread baying would spell their end soon enough. Alphonse, seemingly in agreement about how urgent the situation was, traded his blackjack for a wickedly sharp shortsword he withdrew from a sheath on his hip.
Alphonse stalked forward with Pug on his shoulder, stymied momentarily as the hound bayed again. Pug’s heart leapt as he realized one more howl would mean their end. An immense rush of relief coursed through him as the Dog’s howl ended in a pained yelp, a massive spider having scurried out of the shadows to sink its fangs into the Dog’s flank. With the fell sound no longer chilling his heart or deadening his legs Alphonse charged forward. The spider, as well as the ghostly gelatinous thing in the cage, continued to assail the Dog even as Alphonse plunged his shortsword into it. Alphonse was so intensely focused on stopping the Dog’s third howl he hardly seemed to notice his dark new allies. Foul black ichor and gray meat reeked of the grave flew free of the creature as the trio indulged in the butchery of their foe.
Pug fluttered his wings and flew a short distance away, landing on a shelf just outside the reach of the carnage. The fairy took in his surroundings, looking for opportunities to assist as he stretched his back to alleviate the fatigue had built up after his flying today. It didn’t seem as if the Dog would be doing anymore of its wretched barking and he didn’t think there was much he could do to aid the very capable beings attending to its destruction. Instead it appeared as though Caimon was beginning to falter dangerously. More bolts of energy seemed to get through his shield than be stopped by it, and the wizard’s clothes were tattered and singed by a multitude of near misses. Those few Wardens still in the building hid almost directly behind the wizard now. Their faces were grimly set, and many of them looked to be the victims of glancing strikes and burns themselves.
“I’m going to help the others! Whatever you do, don’t let that thing bark again!” Pug cried to Alphonse, but the human didn’t seem to hear. His eyes were wide open and dilated with fear and his lips were pulled back from his teeth in a fierce snarl, though Pug couldn’t say if it was knowledge of what the third bark would do or simple instinct had enraptured the Warden.
Pug zipped off, flying low to the ground and as close to the shelves as he could. He didn’t like his odds if the dark wizard saw him approaching and endeavored to stay out of sight as long as he could. Occasionally he had to weave between fallen cages, their occupants reaching between the bars though whether they sought succor or savagery was unclear. Whatever the case, he had little time to spare and did his level best to stay beyond their reach. He mollified his growing guilt by promising to free them once they’d won.
This worked until he came around a fallen shelving unit to find a wisp attempting to burn a helpless myconid. Pug banked his wings and dropped, tumbling along the ground as the wisp turned and fired a ball of flame roughly where he would have been had he stayed the course. He came out of his tumble into a roll, coming to his feet within a spear’s length of the wisp. He lashed out at it, the iron in the spear nicking the entity, which appeared as a ball of white flame with blue tips. Even without a mouth, or lungs, it made a sound Pug assumed was not unlike a scream of pain, of cracking logs and fat burning on the pan, before fleeing the source of its pain. Running on, a quick glance at the myconid told Pug if it was alive, it would not be for long.
Many of these creatures are little more than wild beasts, even if they are magical. I hope Tourmaline is taking care when releasing them. Pug thought, a grimace working its way across his face.
Shaking the thought from his head the fairy set off in a run, leaving the horrific scene – and the vague guilt of failing to save the myconid – behind him. He covered the last stretch of his journey quickly even though he ran rather than fly, coming to a stop behind the last bit of concealment between him and the Merchant. Pug peeked around his cover, a broken floorboard was torn up by the impact of some stray bolt of magic and left standing nearly straight up out of the floor. The Merchant wasn’t looking his way however he was certain the fell thing would notice him soon enough if he tarried. He was only going to get one shot at this before he made himself a target to the monster and he was going to give it everything he had.
Ducking back behind the board, Pug pressed his back to the wood and closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath the fairy began to tune out the sounds around him, the crackling of burning wood and the screeching and yammering of the mystical creatures, the cries of pain from the Wardens and the locust-like buzz of the power wreathing the Merchant.One by one Pug acknowledged and dismissed the sounds, consolidating the silence and tranquility of his mind. There in stillness was a power innate to him, seen in his mind’s eye as a droplet of luminescent purple and pink, rippling and twisting above still, black waters reflected the colors back in perfect clarity.
Every fairy, every magical creature of the Wylde and beyond, was born with power. This was Pug’s, and though he’d never trained to use it, not like the wise women of his village or Baba had been, parts of it came to him instinctively. It flowed like thick sap from his heart and he directed it down from his chest into his arms where it pooled in his hands. It wanted to go no further than there, reluctant to leave his body. It rebelled as he pressured it, pushing it down and leaving only one route for it to escape- into his spear. He was breathing in ragged gasps and a splitting pain ran front to back across his skull before his magic finally entered the weapon, first a trickle and then a torrent. It flowed into the spear in a cycle, tip to heel. Soon enough his magic pulsed in the weapon, making it feel as though the solid metal shaft had its own heartbeat.
Opening his eyes, Pug regarded his weapon in wonder. The haft was covered in a twisting root-like growth wrapped over his hands and crawled up his arms to the elbow, while the tip was wreathed in a thick and dark mist rolled off and fell onto the floor. Looking closely at the tip Pug could see where tiny droplets of liquid beaded on the smooth metal, making it appear as though the iron and silver were sweating. Even as the droplets evaporated into mist more took their place. The stress of using his innate magic and the strain on his body from using his new wings compounded on each other as the fairy fluttered his wings again. He forced his wings to beat faster. He only had a little to go and then, one way or another, it wouldn’t matter if he could fly anymore.
With a sharp and shrill cry Pug flew straight into the Merchant’s ankle, plunging his spear in deep. He could hear the Merchant snarl and twist about to see what had stung him, but Pug was already gone. He struck twice more, once on the thigh and another on the buttocks before briefly pulling away. The cloth around each injury was stained with dark and noxious fluid wept from the wounds, Pug’s magic going to work quickly. The Merchant’s gaze had found him by then, and the giant threw out his hand and released a magical blast at the fairy. Pug twirled around it, the foul energy filling his nostrils with an acrid, cloying scent, swiping at the Merchant’s outstretched hand and scoring a cut across his palm. Something like agony shot across the Merchant’s face, though Pug was unsure if the creature could truly feel pain. It drew its hand back and regarded it incredulously.
“Poison? What poison could you have that affects me?” The Merchant screeched. “I, who have sampled every poison and venom between the Crumbling Sea and the Green Wastes!”
Pug didn’t grace him with a response. He worried if he did the monster would perceive his uncertainty, worried feeding the foul thing any information would allow it to solve the riddle of the toxin now ate at it. Instead Pug swooped forward and stabbed at the Merchant again. This time the creature backpedaled, and as his focus wavered his magic began to disperse. Thick cords of ruinous energy, which had carpeted the floor and walls nearest the Merchant, thinned and waned and the energy bolts assaulting Caimon’s ward abated entirely. The wearied and battered wizard did not fail to seize the opportunity for vengeance.
Twisting his hands about and muttering arcane verses in a clipped tone, the wizard’s shield began to fold on itself. Like a flower blooming in reverse, if the flower were made of ephemeral glass, the ragged sides of the protective barrier spiraled into a wickedly sharp point. One viciously cruel point was aimed directly at the Merchant’s back With a cry the wizard pushed the iridescent lance of energy forward at a blistering speed. Still, the creature they faced was no man, and did not react as a mortal ought. The Merchant twisted out of the way with cat-like grace, the spearing point missing the small of his back though it still severed one of the monster’s arms just below the shoulder.
Caimon let out a cry of despair as he crumpled, the last of his vigor spent. Pug, exhausted as he was and entirely invested in the wizard’s final spell, didn’t react to his ally’s failure in time. Even as the Merchant lost one arm to the spell, his other hand found Pug in the air and grabbed him. Before he could even think, Pug’s legs were enveloped in the iron grip of the man-shaped atrocity. The foul thing smiled at him even as the stump of his arm bled, though the fluids issued forth were most unlike blood, being clear and only vaguely clouded with pus-like emissions. It made as if it were going to speak, surely to gloat, at least that’s what Pug thought it was going to do. Rather than suffer it, the fairy threw his spear. Viper-quick, the iron implement flew true and sank halfway into the monster’s pupil.
Though the Merchant hissed in displeasure, the affected eye never so much as blinked. As fluid, black and polluted, poured from its eye, the Merchant simply smiled wider and squeezed Pug ever tighter in his grip. Pug gasped as the pressure increased, and flaring pain shot through his left leg as it snapped. Pug pummeled at the hand holding him with his fists, but it did nothing to stop the vice-like hold the Merchant had on him. A dim corner of Pug’s mind reflected perhaps recent days had shown he should refrain from fighting giants in the future. Assuming he had a future.
Pug began to grow faint from the pain as the Merchant laughed, a low and guttural sound one would expect cesspit possessed of malevolence. Pug told the monster as much, earning a vicious snarl and a redoubling of the pressure brought to bear on his trapped legs which caused the fairy to cry out Through tear-filled eyes Pug almost missed it as the Ifrit was accompanying Lina ran into view. Dashing along the nearest shelf, the flame spirit held in one hand a sack. As he drew even with the Merchant he reeled back and threw his parcel at the abomination, using all of his built up momentum and strength. The sack sailed true through the air and behind it, issuing forth from the hand that had thrown it, was a bolt of flame. The flame caught up to the sack thrown right as it careened into the side of the Merchant’s head, setting alight. The contents of the sack, which were unknown to Pug but apparently very volatile, reacted violently.
Vibrantly bright sparks exploded across the Merchant’s skull in a fan of light and noise, setting him ablaze. It, for the Merchant was surely not a man or a woman or anything in between but an aberration, smiled on even then. The strength of its grip never wavered even as its flesh caught aflame like it was soaked in spirits. Its face withered and charred quickly, though not like meat ought to but more like paper. Blackening, shrinking, and cracking as it was exposed to blazing heat. One eye was consumed in the conflagration but the other remained fixed on Pug, his spear glinting in its center as black, brackish fluid sizzled and popped in the flames. Pug’s left leg sheared into two pieces in another place simultaneously with his right thigh. The sound of their compounded snapping could be heard even above the roaring bonfire was the Merchant’s head. Pug desperately tried to work his way free and pressed against the Merchant’s hand with all of his might, attempting to pull his legs free to no avail. He wasn’t sure which he should dread, being crushed or burned to death as the monster holding him went up like dry grass in a lightning strike. Distantly Pug could hear his friends and allies crying out, but one voice in particular dominated his attention.
“With wings like yours, you’re something of an anomaly among fairies, aren’t you?” The Merchant said. His voice was dry and raspy, but his tone sounded like he was talking about the weather.
“What?” Pug asked, somewhat dumbfounded by the casualness of a man who was burning to death, on the losing end of a life or death struggle.
“I would have liked to cut you open.” The Merchant sighed, his voice dulling as the head damaged his throat and tongue. “Perhaps your organs deviated from the norm as well.”
“You’re a damn monster.” Pug whispered through the pain, conviction and disgust dripping from his words much like the poison dripped from his spear. It must have been just as potent, for the Merchant snarled in reply.
A dark blur burst into view then, Thalia’s blackjack striking the Merchant’s arm at the wrist. Seeing no effect Thalia whipped her blackjack back before bringing it down on the same spot. This time the arm gave a little, but still the pressure didn’t abate. The merchant tried to jab at her with his elbow but Thalia slipped back and answered with another strike. The Warden’s face was stoic and cold as she put her weapon to use, striking the same location again and again with unerring precision. Certainly the bones on the spot must have been naught but powder but still the Merchant persevered, never loosening his grip.
“Fool woman. You failed to save these creatures when you first walked through my doors, and you’re sure to fail now.” If Thalia heard him, she didn’t show it. Instead she dropped her blackjack to the floor and drew her blade.
“Dog! Attend to me!” The Merchant cried out for his hound as he backed away from Thalia. A rictus grin was the only expression could adorn his face now his lips had blacked and curled back like old parchment, however for a moment he seemed to give off an aura of smug satisfaction and dark mirth as a shadowed form barreled towards them from where the Dog had last fallen. The approaching figure was obscured by the smoke choking the room which had emanated from a dozen small fires, born of Tourmaline’s compound and the Merchant’s own energy bolts, which had now grown into an appreciable blaze. So it was that the monster was taken by surprise when the form turned out not to be the Black Dog at all, but Alphonse.
The burly warden tackled the Merchant, hitting it at the hip and pinning it to the wall. Before it could muster its unnatural strength to drive Alphonse away, Thalia swung her blade down in a silvery flash and struck the same point she had been hitting with her blackjack. The flash parted and the bones, now shattered, were unable to turn the blade. The sword swung clean through and severed the hand entirely. She dropped her sword and leapt for the hand holding Pug, snatching it out of the air before it could strike the ground and jostle the wounded fairy. Alphonse jumped back from the Merchant, and both of them regarded the thing warily, just out of reach.
Thalia pried the fingers back from Pug, as they were still grasping the fairy tightly despite no longer being connected to their master. Once she got him free, she flicked the hand away and into the flames now covering the store. Nestling her wounded compatriot in the folds of her jacket, Thalia turned to regard the Merchant.
“Surrender creature, and you’ll face justice. I can’t guarantee what it will look like, but you won’t die here.” Thalia said evenly. Pug was amazed she even considered arresting the thing, but thought perhaps there was no truer reflection of his friend’s character. Her eyes were steely and merciless, and no love was lost for the Merchant but she would see it was treated fairly under the law.
“Surrender?” It gave a burbling laugh. “Even if I were to survive these wounds, I wouldn’t suffer the depredations of captivity and humanity. Not again.”
The flames wreathing the creature spiked in intensity. The thing laughed even as the flames ate at it voraciously. The smoke coming off the thing seemed to smother and choke them, pushing them back. They stumbled away from the bitter stench, the two humans propping each other up while Pug struggled to remain conscious. A veritable tide of creatures scrambled past them to the exits, and the humans followed them through the rapidly decreasing visibility.
Pug was only vaguely aware of it when they pushed through the doors and into clean air. The night was cool and refreshing, and Pug let the breeze wash over his face. Thalia laid him on his back atop a crate or something like it and told him to stay there. Then she and Alphonse disappeared from view. Pug’s head flopped to the side, and he looked at the scene outside the store front. The store itself had at some point completely gone up, and a bucket brigade was already working towards putting it out and soaking the nearby buildings to avert its spread. They had to step over the unfortunate wounded and dead, who were half submerged in the ankle deep, ashy water washed over the cobblestones.
Several of the forms laying in the street were unmoving, horrific burns and blast marks covering their bodies. The still living among them called out for aid, but the street was too narrow for help to reach them quickly. As he looked at the scene Pug couldn’t help but feel like it was a vista straight from the underworld. Yelled commands and cries for help were muffled to his ears, and his eyes were drawn to two diminutive forms that pulled themselves up onto his platform. It took him a moment to realize, but he was looking at Lina under all soot and grime. He saw tears had carved two clean tracks through the soot on her face and he tried to sit up to console her but found his body unwilling to move like he wanted.
“What happened?” He croaked.
“It’s Jet.” She sobbed, falling to her knees beside him. “I never found Jet.”
She pressed her face into his shoulder and her sobs became muffled things. The Ifrit turned away and sat on the edge of the crate, legs dangling over empty space. Pug stroked Tourmaline’s hair reassuringly as he laid on his back. He watched as the stars above were lost in the smoke, and as the cries of the wounded faded into silence.
