Dread rushed through Vantra, as dark as the Void; when had she become so impulsive? What was wrong with her? Rezenarza was an ex-deity who already targeted her. Why do anything to provoke his wrath?
Her grasp on the back of the ex-Darkness’s shirt tightened as they appeared above the flaming forest, hot air and sparks swirling around them. Roaring flames spread in all directions, the two creatures fighting in the middle of them. Kjaelle remained swallowed by Veer’s Comkada, the vine creature an ashen, but still functional, husk.
Rezenarza twisted, fingers grasping for her. He said something she did not catch, but she understood the seething rage that accompanied the words. She may hate the deception of the mini-Joyful, but she refused to let Rezenarza harm Kjaelle to exact revenge on Veer. The elfine did not deserve that.
He whirled, trying to grab her, and she arched away. She needed to get above the flames, but then what? How could she bring Kjaelle back? Fire-created wind whipped past, soaring high. If she sucked herself close to her core, she should not lose too many wisps to the gusts. She set her feet against his leg, sprang backwards, and triggered Ether Touch.
She spiraled up and away from him, into thicker clouds that inhibited her perception. She became Physical again to fall below the glowing puffs, then Ethereal, using the switch to jump towards the Comkada, dipping and rising in rhythm. Her efforts got her a little closer, but not much.
The husk looked up. A shudder raced through her. Out of time!
She mimicked sucking in air and forcing it past her throat, as the pirates had taught her while they sailed to Greenglimmer. Nolaris had explained the Finder way of loud calls, but for commands that reached every part of the Loose Ducky, she needed a pirate’s bellow. She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Irpre fin treuve. KJAAAAEEEEELLE!”
The Comkada flinched as her name thundered above the roar of flames. Ashen vines shot towards their off-balance foe; the explosion on impact blew the ash from the husk, and it disintegrated. Vantra caught sight of a limp figure falling through the swirls of purple and black Darkness.
She eeped as her cloak jerked back. Fear pounded through her.
“You’ll learn your place!” Rezenarza roared. He whirled with her and chucked her away, propelled by strength and Darkness magic. Screaming in shocked fear, she spun over the flames, through thick clouds lit with an inner orange, fighting to stop her momentum. Unnatural wind tore at her essence, and she snagged her wisps and held them close. Her perception rocked back and forth, the blaze of fire a kaleidoscope with the smoke and the darkness of a cloud-covered Evenacht night.
Her mind skittered around, focused on one thing; turning Physical. She changed and her forward flight slowed, then she dropped. Clutching the shard to her breast, she closed her eyes to blot out the nauseating whirl as she tumbled down. While not a physical reaction, her being remembered what motion sickness was like, and she fought to keep it from overwhelming her.
Overwhelming heat seared her. She smacked into something that rocked her essence, and twigs dug into her. Her eyes popped open as she fell, head-first, through blazing tree branches, breaking half of them with a burst of sparks. Burning leaves and bits swirled around her, the only thing she could see. Her shoulder hit a thicker branch that cracked, snagged her skirt, and broke; she kicked and punched to free herself as she careened with it into the fire-consumed understory below.
The branch stopped. She slammed into it and slid over the side, landing in a flaming pile of debris. She popped into Ether form to float above it, shrieked as the wind dug into her and tore energy away, and reformed Physical.
Chunks of trees rained down on her; she ducked and ran, hand over her head, as if it could protect her. Gold formed around her; the roar, the heat, the wind, faded. White energy swirled through the shard, and a cocoon of silence descended. She could sense nothing as she fled.
A spattering of water dribbled down the shield. Water? She forced her head up, looked around; rain. Rain?
She spun, having no idea how far she flew or which direction the temple was. A tree falling to her left forced her to the right, and she bolted that way, terror filling her. She was lost. The ex-deity bestowed his blessing, but if she had no destination, successfully walking the turns and twists of the labyrinth meant nothing.
If there were any remaining trees to get lost in.
Whimpering, she skirted larger flaming piles of wood and brushed through undergrowth, wincing as the shield flickered. What if it failed? She would need to form her own; while fire did not affect ghosts, the winds it created did, and now that it rained, if she switched to Ether Touch, the drops could wash her away.
She stuttered to a stop; an embankment fell away, and she thought she caught the ripple of water at the bottom. Sliding down the loose dirt, she stumbled to a halt at the edge of a pool similar to the one that served as Navosh’s jail, but not as broad. She stared at the waves and shuddered. What if the same vines that confined Navosh swam beneath the surface? What if the corrupted roots snagged her and dragged her under?
A tree crashing behind her sent her into the water, tingling with terror. She could see nothing below the orange reflecting off the surface, so prodded in front of her with the tip of her boot; nothing met her questing. She waded through waist-high waves to the series of step-like waterfalls, where she surged to the side, scrambled on top of rocks that peeked above the pool’s waves, and shoved herself under the pouring water.
Debris carried by the falls bumped against her head, neck and shoulders, but not as much as what tumbled over the center. Larger chunks of wood littered the pool, most blackened, some still burning, sitting where they fell because the current was not strong enough to dislodge them. Their flames spitted and flickered as the shower steadily increased. She pressed the shard against her chest, huddled back, and watched as a downpour pummeled the area, and the Sun-fire, whether attached to debris or a still-standing tree, spitted, diminished, died.
She prickled; a mental darkness, rough with resentment and fury, coated the water like a delicate mist. Rezenarza!
No. The sensation came from another entity, one as frantic as a living being who woke up in a coffin and desperately tried to escape. She searched for the presence she sensed, but perceived nothing near her. The last of the fire extinguished, leaving the pool lit only by the shield’s golden glow. The faint trickle of water caressed her ears, accompanied by splashes of waves striking larger obstacles, and while she heard nothing else, she felt as if something stalked towards her. She pressed against the rock at her back, curled into a small ball, and slapped her free hand over her mouth to keep from whimpering.
The shield’s illumination dimmed and disappeared. She froze as the overwhelming sense of danger pounded her. Still as death, she waited as unnatural cold drifted from the waterfall and across the pool.
The rain intensified, and the cold broke apart, faded. The dread clutching her relaxed, and she sagged. Gone now, but would it return? The golden glow spread across the shield; apparently the shard did not think so. She peered down at it; it protected her, but she could not prompt herself to leave the shelter. It was not as if the shore held convenient cover.
Because of her.
Tears poured down her cheeks, as fast as the raindrops that turned the pool into a mass of agitated splashes.
