Chapter 11: DEATH 11: FLAME SPIRIT’S FURY

Tonight would be the night.

The Council wouldn’t lift a finger to help if the Thieves Guild tried preying on those new to the upper floors. Delilah’s golden badge proved that much. No. Now the thieves’ easy meal was gone. This needed to end, and soon.

Nonasia was on board with the time frame, happy for a free lunch. Pitch, of course, was ecstatic at any mention of action that promised violence and torment towards those that killed her. She refused to stay still when we discussed it, constantly acting out her part of our scheme.

With the plan determined, it was time to go home. Nonasia’s casual speed caused the boat to rock gently, lulling both myself and Pitch into an exhausted sleep.

The acrid smell in the air interrupted our attempt to nap, however.

Smoke filled my nose, causing me to wake up coughing. Pitch grumbled from her spot on my chest, rolling over to go back to sleep. Trust the demonic sprite not to care about fire.

Instincts made me look up, checking the skies for flaming arrows or fire attacks. Though why someone would throw fire against a Siren was a mystery. Though, Adventurers often attempted the stupidest of strategies. The sky was clear, and my heart rate lessened. A fire on the docks then. A warehouse accident, perhaps? Rare, but they happened.

It would be unfortunate considering the plan. The last thing we needed was an overworked spark watcher wandering around.

As we drew closer, though smoke billowed into the sky, nobody appeared panicked. None of the ships were fleeing, and no shouts or alarms were audible. What was going on?

As Nonasia waved us goodbye, Pitch moved her napping spot to my shoulder. Her small wings wrapped around her like a blanket, their rough texture rubbing against my neck. My legs burned during the climb up the natural staircase, but as we grew closer to the city, the pain vanished.

Bile rose in my throat as what burned rose into view.

My apartment complex. Smoke rose from it, bringing to mind Torugs’ threats during my beating. He claimed he would burn my bed. Stop me from respawning. But they’d received what they’d asked for. Sure, they’d be sending subtle messages for days, but why escalate now?

These thoughts plagued me during the slow trudge through The Capital. Details caught my attention as the apartment drew nearer. Smoke billowed from the building, a line extending from what appeared to be my floor. Though there was no sign of flames within the dark cloud.

Voices were audible from a street over, angry and demanding, not panicked or frightened. Not the typical reaction from people attending an active fire. My pace quickened. We needed to know what was happening.

The additional speed elicited another groan from Pitch, who retaliated by stabbing me in the neck. Not deep. She didn’t want me dead, only to get her point across. There wasn’t time to apologize for the rough ride. We needed to get to my room and check the damage.

The plan couldn’t succeed without the documents in the chest.

A gawking mob blocked the street, slowing our trip to a crawl. Ahead, Ferris, our landlord, was screaming himself hoarse over the whispered rumor-mongering of the crowd. Another man was yelling too, but the ex-sea captain refused to be outdone. Voice growing to match, and often exceed, his opponents.

Inside the mess of people, a nearby hand flagged me down, drawing my attention to the motherly smile of Mrs. Hudsil. She always smiled at me, ever since my impromptu check-in after the dragon attack. Her nearby husband, Kylu, nodded at me. Typical. He never paid much attention to anything that wasn’t a fight, or his wife’s cooking.

Before we’d close enough for a handshake, Mrs. Hudsil started in on me. Questions about my health, how Pitch was handling the loss of her home, and general apologies flew toward me one after the other. She nodded at each of my answers whenever she took a breath long enough for me to give them.

She seemed happy we were safe, slipping a miniature cookie to Pitch. The demonic sprite tore into it, as we listened to the old woman’s story. It was long-winded, with multiple tangents, but she eventually let some concrete details slip.

The sounds of someone kicking my door in woke her up. Footsteps stamped about, followed by the breaking of glass and the hissing of a chemical reaction. That was when the smoke started. By the time Ferris arrived to check, smoke filled the now abandoned room.

Both the City Guard and the Firefighters Guild arrived on the scene simultaneously. The screaming matches started not long after. Neither group answered his complaints, though the Firefighters Guild determined the building remained structurally sound.

To nobody’s shock, the Alchemist Guild never made an appearance. None would want to out themselves as the chemical’s obvious supplier.

When she finished her story, she rewarded us with a hug and another smile. Bodies blocked our way forward. Nobody wanting to move and potentially miss the show. Not that Pitch gave them a choice.

A series of groans and rubbed necks signaled our position in the group as we fought our way forward towards the apartment.

One curse, louder than the rest, paused the argument. Ferris looked over, eyes meeting mine, before stomping over to me. The man he was arguing with, whose red jacket bore the emblem of the Firefighter’s Guild, fled. Smart man.

Pitch readied her weapon as Ferris loomed over us, flexing his biceps. A part of me couldn’t help but admire the move. His sailor’s physique remained, though he was getting on in years. If more surveyors worked to look like him, the Thieves Guild wouldn’t have touched us.

His blue eyes flashed as he stared down at me. My knees shook, and it took all my effort not to stare down at the ground. The man’s ability to intimidate was legendary.

“I want you out, Leiko,” He said.

Every motion he was making displayed his anger, his frustration. His voice, though, was devoid of any hints of it. A chill ran down my spine as he stayed quiet, waiting for my response.

“As you wish,” My tone stayed cordial, as if this was nothing but a discussion with a client. “I need to get some items upstairs.”

“You have an hour. Anything left behind is mine,” He cemented his words with a nod.

That was fine. With the money coming in from the bigger jobs, affording somewhere new wouldn’t be hard. If staying in the city remained an option when this was done.

The stairs creaked with each step, and the stench got worse the further up we climbed.

Not that the smell mattered to me. This tiny amount of smoke would be nothing, not compared to what was coming. A dragon. The Thieves’ Guild. Me. The Capital would be awash with ash when this finished.

Time to get our crew’s last member.

***

Visibility inside the room wasn’t great.

Black spit hit the floor with each ragged cough as my watering eyes took in the scene. My desk and bed were gone, nothing but ash piles that sent up a continuous stream of thick, dark smoke. The hidden compartment beneath the floorboards lay smashed open, everything valuable, looted.

Globs of a foul-smelling mixture splattered the wooden walls. The alchemical component smoldered but didn’t burn, more evidence they didn’t want to destroy the building itself.

Pitch led me over to the window, the effects of whatever compound they used not affecting her. A deep breath of air allowed the coughing to subside, and the smoke cleared faster as it found a second escape route.

We started work as clean air returned to the room. My notes lay untouched, the thieves more interested in my gold. A mistake, though a forgivable one.

We rifled through the papers, happy to toss any that wasn’t the one we needed back into the chest. Ferris could have them if he wanted. They wouldn’t do him, or us, much good.

Pitch let out a shriek of joy as she shoved the paper under my nose. It took a minute for her to stop shaking it and let me read it. When the words came into view, however? It was hard not to laugh.

Summoning - Fire Elemental

There it was. The crux of our plan.

Fire Elementals were beings who ate natural flames, absorbing them into their bodies to grow bigger and tougher until they reached maturity. Difficult to kill, they could conjure magical sparks, and the notes claimed they could get hot enough to burn through metal.

A fact we’d get to test on the Thieves’ Guild first-hand.

The rest of the demonic book, alongside the Fire Elemental instructions, ended up in my bag. A tear welled up in my eye at the thought of leaving.

Another thing they’d stolen from me.

Before leaving, Pitch snagged some of the ash pile that represented my bed. Nice of them to provide one material for me. Magically infused anything was expensive.

Ferris was screaming at someone new by the time we returned. Whatever novelty his volume held, was long gone, alongside the crowd. Not that no one was around.

The urchins all stared at me. The intensity in their expression could be mistaken for one of hunger. A quick look at their gaunt frames made me wonder if it was. Whatever the Thieve’s Guild was feeding them, it wasn’t enough. One urchin, a girl, darted off when she saw us appear. Off to inform Torug about our movements.

Not that his presence would matter. If they killed me, all that would happen is a quick visit to Nonasia. It would be a delay, though not one that would severely impact the plan. My shadows continued to stalk me through the shopping district, watching me during each of my purchases. Some incense. Two boxes of matches. A stick of chalk.

Guilt welled up at the idea of their presence at the warehouse tonight. While it was true that they tried to kill me, damaged my sign, and tattled on me to the Thieves’ Guild. None of them deserved to die.

A sigh escaped my lips. It seemed another step to the plan was in order.

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The next stop was at a familiar bakery. Coins changed hands, and Pitch left with a small cupcake, while the baker filled my arms with a bag containing several loaves of bread. Fresh loaves too, a fact that was met with growling stomachs and jealous looks.

Not things that helped their stealth skills as they followed me into a nearby alley.

Pitch picked at her muffin, while my focus was on retracing my steps from my flight towards Ruffus’s shack. Not an easy feat, but eventually the house where Ruffus rescued me came into view. None of the children follow us inside at first. That was fine. Time, for once, wasn’t an issue.

The smell of the bread was intoxicating, holding a touch of sweetness that the stale ends that made my usual breakfasts couldn’t compare to. Hungry faces pressed against the wall. One face, a younger boy whose nose was near smashed into the glass, bore an expression of such longing you would have thought he’d never have seen food before.

An excellent target.

With a small rustle, the bread slid from the bag, causing a stir amongst the watchers outside. Every motion while unpacking the bread was deliberate, a tease of the senses.

A mound of fresh food appeared on the table.

The boy at the window broke first, dashing inside as though he expected to steal the bread from under my nose. He reached out to grab at the pile, but Pitch slapped his hand away, her muffin wrapper now discarded to the floor.

“If you want some, sit down over there,” My voice was gentle, though it rose to address the others. “And you lot as well if you want to join him.”

Whispers filled the air at that suggestion. As the older children debated, while the younger ones stared at the meal on the table. The debate soon enough turned to insults.

On one hand, they were my watchers, sent to monitor one of The Guild’s enemies.

On the other, free food.

For starving children, the choice wasn’t difficult.

Each child got half a loaf, and to their credit, listened to my explanation. What was required of them was simple. They needed to hide with the Dogman cultists and stay put until the morning.

The cultists were stupid, yes, but they wouldn’t hurt stray children. Plus, if the Succubus was to be believed, plenty of exits existed if they needed to flee. Also, the Dogmen should keep them occupied and somewhat fed.

After receiving nods of agreement, they passed the rest of the bread out, and my watchers let me leave. Not that some of them even noticed.

Now we needed to lie low until evening.

***

Peaceful was the best way to describe the docks at night, and tonight especially. A light breeze blew, filling the cool air with the smell of the sea. A half-moon shone in the sky, giving the perfect amount of light to illuminate our way, with enough shadows to hide in.

It was too bad that it wouldn’t last.

A motion in the water drew my attention, and a smile formed on my face as Nonasia breached the surface with a thumbs up. All we needed now was our last member.

Without a splash, Nonasia dived under the water as we headed on our way. Pitch stayed close as we snuck between the buildings, grateful for the completed repairs. We didn’t need the risk of bumping into late-night construction workers.

The warehouse guards remained the same, the male elf and the demon-blooded woman. Both looked bored, and neither noticed as we ducked behind the corner of a nearby building. This was annoying. We didn’t need to get inside, but the destruction caused would be greater.

Pitch poked her head out before turning to me. Her wings blurred into motion, as she put two fingers above her head before she stabbed viciously at the air.

Her meaning was clear, a simple request to repeat her shenanigans with the rabbitkin. She danced, her smile wider than should be possible when she got the go-ahead.

My hiding place provided a splendid view to watch what happened next. Pitch flew up high, her slight frame darting over rooftops and landing without a sound on the small pole that hung over the door. At one point, dockworkers would have hooked a lantern or some other light, but now the small oil lamp rested at the guard’s feet. Better to not draw attention to themselves.

Neither lookout noticed as Pitch dove from the pol. That changed when she jabbed into the shoulder of the guard. Before the Elven man could scream, Pitch stabbed the other, fleeing the cursing pair.

Subtle? No. But it left the door unguarded. My sprint wasn’t silent, my boots slapping at the stone ground, but no one arrived to investigate the shouts so far. Why should they? No one would be dumb enough to attack their headquarters, after all.

The door opened without a creak, and my dark vision spell illuminated the rows of wooden shelves and boxes. Perfect. The noise of the chase faded away as my hurried pace took me further into the warehouse.

As the trap door came into view, my pace slowed. My heartbeat increased at each creak of the old building. Were those footsteps? A deep sigh of relief escaped me when no one came. That didn’t stop my hands from trembling during the setup for the ritual.

It was a small, easy-to-draw circle, thanks to the elemental’s juvenile state. That wouldn’t be a long-lasting issue. Plenty for it to eat inside the warehouse.

Scents of the forest filled the air, as the incense sticks burned beside the ash and the boxes of matches. All that remained now was the chant.

The magic that inhabited the words caused the air to gain an orange tint, as the passion in my voice grew louder. All the anger, pain, and memories inside me grew red-hot, burning my lungs, my throat, my eyes, and my brain. The heat formed a shape inside the summoning circle as the components vanished into smoke.

A palm-sized figure now floated inside the circle, the girl made from flickering flames. She was thin, wearing a coarse shirt and long pants that somehow didn’t burn off her body. Her eyes, nothing more than orange orbs, somehow shone with delight as she smiled with unbridled joy.

An excited child, who wanted nothing but to feast.

“Eat.”

She grew brighter at the instruction, taking a tentative step outside the circle.

“Go on, eat what you like. When you grow, you can find live food through the door there,” My voice was soft, encouraging.

Not that she needed it.

Her footsteps left small burn marks on the wooden floor as she hurried toward a shelf. Flames took over the small box she touched in seconds as she raised it to her mouth and chomped down. She chewed the wood before slurping up the created flames and starting again.

Heat washed over the room, forcing me back as she grew. The bigger she got, the more she wanted to eat. Within minutes, the air burned my skin as she gnawed on the side of the shelves.

A bang sounded, and the trapdoor swung open. Various faces poked out as they saw the rapidly growing Fire Elemental, before locking eyes on me and readying weapons. Wrong decision, they should have tried to kill the Elemental before it reached maturity.

As my pursuers chased me throughout the shelves of the warehouse, the Fire Elemental continued to grow. The fire spread with ease now, allowing the starving Elemental to focus on eating rather than finding her next meal.

She shot upwards, reaching a height of 6 and a half feet, before stopping. They grew up so fast. Now she’d reached maturity, her goals shifted. No longer content to eat, she wanted to fight. The anger from the spell infected her, forcing her to take out her rage on any who came close before it consumed her.

My pursuers, some of which now sported flaming clothes, didn’t stick around to become targets.

They bolted for the door, yelling about getting into the water before they burned to death.

This show wouldn’t be worth missing.

Cool air hit my face as we all made it outside. The building itself was on fire now, flames leaping towards the stars. Distant sirens and screams filled the air, but they wouldn’t be able to stop this. Not unless they could get the Adventurers to help, of course.

The first of the Thieve’s Guild members to hit the water released screams of delight that swiftly transformed into terrified wails. Nonasia going to work.

Screams about the Sirens’ presence fought the instructions to get into the water. The noise made it difficult for anyone to grasp what was happening. Too busy dealing with the flames and the monster, everyone ignored me, except for Pitch, who came back to land on my shoulder.

Together we watched as the Thieves Guild members were either burned, drowned or consumed. Some lucky ones even managed to flee. There was no sign of Winfield Grimm or Torug, but that wasn’t surprising. We didn’t expect anyone to escape the tunnels.

Without bothering to wait, we hurried away, happy to know the work was done. The soul-bounded members might put this together. It's possible to avenge The Guild. But that didn’t matter.
The plan wasn’t to stick around.

We waited for Nonasia to eat her fill before we returned to her island, the burning and screaming behind us. A solid night’s work, if we said so ourselves.

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