Chapter 53: 63. Something Good

Rorri

 

The foliage muffled Rorri’s cries, his fall broken by a shrubbery. He had landed on his side, and the CRACK came with a lightning strike of blue-white pain, searing every nerve in his chest. He rolled over onto his back, howling, gasping, bones scraping against bones. He struggled to sit upright, gripping his shoulder tightly to minimize its movement, his arm limp and useless at his side. It felt like his torso had been crushed by falling boulders – but his legs seemed to have been spared.

From behind the grand entrance, the loud, frantic thumping yanked his mind from his body’s suffering. Rorri leapt to his feet and lurched for the doors, growling like a wounded animal. He slammed his unharmed shoulder into the thick, sturdy bar, pushing with all his weight, gritting his teeth through the pain, but it did not budge.

“Help!” he yelped. “Anyone – please, help!”

But his cries were met with silence, drowned by the screams coming from just inside.

Rorri leaned against the door helplessly, panting and sweating. Of course it would come to this. He had no business pretending to be a hero. He wasn’t thinking right – just like Bilge had said. He was a stupid, selfish, strung-out addict, and he probably only jumped to save himself—

 

Do you wish to change reality, or only change the way it seems?

 

Shacia’s voice piped up in his mind, freezing the thoughts around it.

“Oh my god…” His eyes widened. “Magic… I can do magic!”

He gave a shrill titter, then stumbled back and to the side, honing in on the metal beam’s end. Everything he had – the adrenaline, the pain, the fear, the Snow – everything, he harnessed within the pits of his eyes, exactly as his tutor had taught him. Pressure built up within his skull as the space around his brain flooded with magic, ready to explode – he shrieked, struggling to contain the immense pain in his head, but he had to concentrate. He couldn’t close his eyes or flutter his gaze, knowing the consequences of missing could be catastrophic. His Will far surpassed his magical prowess – or, as Shacia would say, it was a bit advanced for him…

The doors breathed with the panicked patrons’ pounding, each of them pleading, praying, each with so much to lose. As Rorri braced his body for the magic’s release, he remembered the reason he had jumped…

 

O P E N T H E D O O R

 

…and his pupils opened up to unleash all that he had amassed.

 

Adar

 

Inside, Adar and the children hid in the large washroom at the furthest end of the east wing. The kids sat in a wide circle, with one child walking its perimeter, tapping each of her peers on the head. It was a good distraction – only some of the older ones retained their somber expressions. The rest seemed happy to ignore the horrors encroaching upon them. Adar had blocked the door with a heavy potted plant, but apart from that, he was the only thing that stood between the enemy outside and the room full of innocent life.

“Goose!”

The chosen child bolted upright to pursue the one who chose him, but she managed to slide into his seat before he could catch her. Adar nodded approvingly, arms folded across his chest, wearing the curiously intense expression of a spectator at a boxing match.

Suddenly, the door burst open, stopped short by the potted plant. Without hesitation, Adar whipped his hand through the crack and grabbed the intruder’s wrist, then twisted, slamming their shoulder into the door.

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“Ow! Let go of me!”

Seeing the pale skin of a white elf noble, Adar released his grip, then folded his hands in a slight bow.

“I apologize, ser,” he said, keeping his gaze low. “I meant only to protect the little ones.”

“Then open the goddamned door!”

“Of course.”

He hauled the plant away, and the door opened wide, revealing a white elf noblewoman and the quivering shells of a few adult humans. A handful of children sprinted to their parents, pushing past the elves, and the reunited families hurried for the unbarred emergency exit at the end of the hall.

“Has the Guard arrived?” Adar asked. The noblewoman hesitated.

“I haven’t seen them,” she said, glancing towards the exit. “But we need to go, now.”

Adar nodded curtly, then turned to address the children. “Time to go, kids! Your parents are probably waiting!”

The two escorted the group outside, where the thick stench of smoke filled the chilly, open air. The west-blowing wind seemed to have spared the east side of the building from the fire’s spread, but it had already engulfed the garden and banquet hall, and the theater wouldn’t be far behind. A scatter of disheveled patrons huddled up a ways away, some sobbing, some stoic, and some glazed over, as if their spirits were torn from their bodies. Three Guardsmen lightly jogged up to Adar and the rest, chain jingling with every step.

“It’s alright!” the front-most guard called. “We’re here! Please, everyone assemble in an orderly fashion!”

“What about the Duén?” the noblewoman called back as the children gathered behind her. The guard glanced towards the grand entrance.

“Our men are driving them off,” he said. “They are no longer a threat. Everyone, please…”

As the Guard shouted evacuation orders, the woman turned to Adar, eyes shining and red, and whispered urgently.

“Have you seen Rorri?”

Adar squinted, assessing her face carefully… She had yellow hair, pale green eyes, and one of her eyelids drooped quite a bit. Her make-up was a melted, runny mess, and her intense expression matched the gravity of their circumstance. After a moment, his eyes lit up with recognition.

“Oh! You must be the tutor!” he said with a genuine smile. “You’re not nearly as weird looking as I’d imagined.”

Shacia’s jaw dropped.

“I haven’t seen him since he ran off when this all started,” Adar continued before she could respond. “He’s probably looking for you, honestly. He hasn’t stopped brooding over your forbidden love since—”

“That’s enough,” she interrupted, temples pulsing.

“Oh, god – I hope he’s not hurt…” Adar looked off, his gaze darkening at the thought. When he turned back, Shacia was already hurrying away, bunching up the front of her dress with one hand, shoes dangling in the other.

“Wait! Isn’t one of these yours?” he called, gesturing broadly at the group of children, but Shacia kept going. She disappeared around the corner, the only one heading towards the grand entrance, from where dozens of others fled.

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