The Land Set Aflame

Chapter 76: The Firefight

The satyr's eyes burned like two embers, and the aura of heat radiating from his body distorted the air around him. One side of his lips turned up in a wicked grin as locked eyes with Svenden.

On the ground, Leofric gasped and tried to drag himself back away from Melser. His face, arms and chest were red and blistered, and much of his clothing was blackened and burned away. His unsteady fingers reached towards his satchel of spell ingredients, but they weren't coordinated enough to grab anything.

"Melser, what are you doing?" Svenden asked across the top of an arrow nocked in Silversprig's Arc.

"They blamed me for what he did!" Melser said, jabbing an accusatory finger in Leofric's direction, "I was the danger to the village, because they thought I made Kithana! He brought her into Kernohest, not me!"

"You told us that you made her!" Svenden protested, "You chose to take credit for it! You can't blame us for believing you!"

"I thought I was helping a friend!" Melser shot back at him, little droplets of fiery spittle flew from his mouth in his anger, "But they wouldn't believe that their beloved wizard was part of this! Why blame a human wizard when there's a convenient fairy they could blame instead? And so, I was left to take the fall! And they burned my tavern for it!"

He pointed angrily towards the blasted shell of Melser's Kitchen.

Svenden sighed grimly and lowered his bow. "They did this?" he asked.

"Some of them," Melser acknowledged, "And so I dealt with them."

"You killed them?" he asked.

Melser's chest heaved a few times as he stared intensely at Svenden. "It's clear that my life in Kernohest is over," he said, "No one will give a fairy the benefit of the doubt."

"So, you're leaving?" Svenden asked.

"Not until I tie up the last loose end," Melser said, pointing down at Leofric, "If he hadn't chosen to harbor that fire elemental... If he hadn't left me to take the blame for it while he went to rescue his beloved... If he hadn't gotten the entire village to support and believe in him, in spite of his subterfuge... in spite of his... obvious incompetence, they.... They accepted me here! And they would have gone on accepting me and my magic if... if it weren't for him!"

"You can't blame Leofric for this!" Svenden protested. His fingers felt clammy on his bowstring, and he somehow knew that he wasn't the kind of man who talk Melser down from this precipice.

He felt that ember in his heart twinge ever so slightly. If only Callyndia were here, she would be able to get through to Melser.

Leofric coughed.

"I'm sure we can work this out!" Svenden continued, glancing down at Leofric, "Maybe their trust for him can work in your favor. If he speaks on your behalf—"

"No!" Melser said emphatically, waves of flame bursting from him to accentuate his words, "Do you think they'll ever trust me again? It's too late for that!"

The satyr roared, and an aura of flames exploded around him. Leofric hastily began muttering the words to his protection spell, but once again was unable to complete it before the flames overwhelmed him.

"Leofric!" Svenden shouted, "I'm sorry for this, Melser!"

His bow was up again, and three arrows flew through the air. The first impacted low on Melser's chest, but Melser barely flenched. The satyr waved his hand, and the second and third arrow caught fire and burned to ash before striking him.

Svenden hustled off to one side as he drew his next set of arrows, but Melser was faster. With a fluid motion of his other arm, he hurled a small globule of flame in Svenden's direction, forcing Svenden to duck behind the mostly-intact fireplace for cover. The fireball burst nearby, and Svenden felt the wave of heat rush around him. The cuff of his pants leg burned to cinders, but he patted it out before it could catch flame.

Moments later, another fire streaked across the scene and slammed Right into Melser. It was a Kithana, her fists and feet slashing through the air like blades made of flame, and the skirt of her long fiery gown twirling around her.

Svenden took a moment to breathe and to glance toward Leofric. The scholar was still, but his eyebrows were still moving. Still alive.

Kithana and Melser were locked in a blurry, hazy melee of streaking flames. Both of them moved in ways that Svenden's eyes couldn't fully comprehend, as if the operative parts of their bodies had vanished into waving flames, while their intense faces stared at one another with hauntingly inhuman fervor.

After a few moments, Svenden felt that his eyes had adjusted enough to the scene to pick out his target. He swiftly launched three more arrows towards Melser. But this time, with no visible effort on Melser's part, all three arrows burned away to nothing before making contact.

Svenden swore in frustration. Where had Melser gained this powerful pyrurgical magic?

Kithana's arm slashed towards Melser's neck, but one of Melser's hands flashed up, appearing almost out of nowhere to block and grasp her incoming arm. Her face registered humanlike surprise for a brief moment. Then, she attempted to melt herself into an amorphous flame and slip away from Melser's grasp.

To her surprise, his grip remained fast, even as her form became fully intangible. She stabbed with another arm, but as its lance-like point plunged into Melser's stomach, the satyr didn't even seem to register it.

He grinned and chuckled at her. "You can't hurt me," he said, "I'm made of the same flame that you are. I suppose you'll just have to watch then, won't you?"

He walked right through her body, stepping towards Leofric's prone form on the ground, dragging Kithana by one hand in spite of her efforts to resist. Leofric's eyes fluttered open, two grayish orbs in the midst of a red-and-black, blistered blob on the ground. Melser's hand erupted into flames again.

"No, Leofric!" Svenden shouted. He took another set of shots, and another, each time approaching closer to Melser, but each time watching as his arrows disintegrated against Melser's protective barrier.

Kithana tried to tug at Melser's arm, to free herself. She tried slashing at his head and body. Nothing fazed him.

Leofric choked. "Wh... whiteflame," he whispered.

Melser's burning hand raised, fingers hooked like claws ready to tear Leofric's heart from his chest. Sheer panic painted Kithana's face with humanity as she helplessly watched the horror in front of her.

"NO!" she screamed, her voice throwing a blast of air around her.

Her body flared into a massive wave of heat, and her aura turned from orange to white in an instant. Melser's hand, gripping tightly to her arm, flared up with white heat, and he winced in pain, releasing his grip.

Melser turned to look at Kithana in surprise and confusion, just in time for her to plunge a searing arm-blade of white radiance into his chest. He gasped in shock, and his body convulsed. The flames wreathing his hand dissipated, and the aura of heat around him wavered, faltered and disappeared, leaving behind only the satyr.

He fell to his knees as little trails of white radiance traced through his body like cracks. He trembled and choked as the radiance intensified, spilling out of the cracks and out of his eyes. He threw his head back, shouting in pain and anguish as radiance spilled from his mouth.

And then, his body evaporated into a burst of spirit, and he faded into the Spirit World.