Revival: Of Cethore ✔

Chapter Two

Chapter Two: A Show Of Character

Samari came to Fryco to start a life; to get a job, meet some people, find out what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. What she did not come for was to have a bowl hurled at her face. Unfortunately, that's exactly what happened a few steps out of the shop.

Ducking to avoid getting pottery in her mouth, she began briskly making her way to the safety of a barrell. As far as she could see, there was only chaos. People throwing punches, bloodied shirts, a knife here, a person out cold there. It certainly seemed more ferocious than a simple mob fight, although she had never seen a mob fight.

Where are the armsmen meant to protect this area!? Did these ruffians take them all out? Are they occupied someplace else? Just how far does this go!?

Gathering up her courage, she counted to three before darting from behind her barrell. In a moment, she spotted an alleyway that was seemingly abandoned and headed there. She stumbled deep into it before trying to stop herself.

It was a pretty long alleyway that could have been a short street, but the tall buildings beside it made it rather dark, so much so that she heard the fight going on before she saw it. Her first thought was to turn and run, but something—or rather, someone—stopped her.

"Help me."

The voice was so soft and weak, she almost did not hear it. Suddenly, she realized what was happening: it was not a fight but people beating up some poor individual.

A spark lit in her that she had never felt before. A fierce determination filled her mind as she charged in, armed and ready.

She reached into the small pouch on her belt and pulled out her most valuable possession: ticon dust, a powerful concentration of a ticon element in a powder form.

The dust that she used was fire, extracted from the lava of Sleum. Just a sprinkle would set fire to most wood. All she grabbed was a few specks—any more would burn them to a crisp.

She came in through the shadows quietly, yet swiftly. A jolt from the man they were beating up drew their attention away long enough for her to do a quick count of them. Five. One was holding the injured man in front of him while the others lay hits on him with different objects. It was hard to see his face because of the blood pouring from his hair as he hung limply. 

When they saw her coming, she threw the dust around the group. The dust erupted in small puffs of flames.

Cries of surprise and pain rose up as the attackers threw their arms up to block their faces from the fire and smoke. Some of their clothes caught on fire, causing them to try to put out the flames in a frantic dance.

During the confusion, the person holding the man dropped him. As he fell to the ground, Samari rushed forward to catch him before he hit the stone.

This would have been a perfect battle scene with a great display of agility and speed had Samari actually had agility and speed. She did not have either, which was why instead of catching the man, she tripped over him and fell.

Still moving, she scrambled to help him up and get him out of there. He supported his weight as they walked, but his steps were uneven.

They did not get very far before the attackers sprung back from the chaos they were in. A twinge of panic shot down her spine as Samari let go of the man and turned to defend them. 

She knew she did not have a chance to defeat them, but if she could just stall them long enough for him to escape, it would be a victory. She put her hands up into fists to show her intent.