RE: Monarch

Chapter 237: Fracture XLII

Wind crashed past my ears as I made the leap from one rooftop to the next. The inscriptions in my legs burned, and my muscles ached. I'd softened some, since my return. In the sanctum I'd managed similar acrobatics nearly every day, using trees and caverns in Mountainside to obscure my presence from either the unwitting infernal children pursuing their rites of adulthood, or the corrupted creatures I hunted.

Close enough to Topside now that I could see the smoke, I slowed my pace, making each leap more cautiously, hiding behind whatever cover I could find. Almost absentmindedly, more out of habit than anything else, I touched the amulet at my neck.

"Vogrin? Anything to add?"

The expected, irritable response never came. I groaned in annoyance. Vogrin couldn't materialize indefinitely. My summon functioned the same as any demonic summon, siphoning off a small percentage of mana until he'd gathered enough to materialize. And considering how long the negotiations with Ozra went, I could only assume he was spent.

Could have given me a heads up before we were about to make our way into the sewers.

In fact, he really should have. I frowned.

There was a whinge of wood, and I looked up to see the lithe form of a leather-armored elf, pointing a fully drawn bow in my general direction.

"The instructions I gave were for you, as well as your division," I clarified, glancing down at the waiting arrow.

Aetherya lowered the weapon. Slightly. "Couldn't be sure it was you. From a distance it could have been any human child, cowering on the rooftops."

"That changes little."

I fought a surge of annoyance, eventually settling on ignoring her, measuring the distance to the next rooftop, and backing up until I was confident in the run-up.

Aetherya spoke quickly. "Sevran believes you're hunting the void mage. He is under the impression that I could be of help, as my division is disciplined enough to fulfill their role without my oversight."

"And you agree?"

"I am impassive, in the matter."

I rolled my eyes. Tempting as it was to tell her to strike rocks, reluctant help was better than no help. And putting emotion aside, I could really use someone with her skill-set.

"Alright." I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "I have a plan to deal with the fire, but there's a problem. Soon as I do, he'll know I'm there. Extinguishing the flames means giving him a window to escape. I’m guessing he's up high somewhere, elevated."

"And you've established this how?" Aetherya questioned.

"If you're a mage capable of using void from range, you're either embedded in the frontline as a spell breaker, or at an elevated distance shaping the battle from afar. I doubt our quarry is the sort to break concealment," I said, not bothering to hide my disgust.

Aetherya nodded, seeming to find the explanation satisfactory. "Then lead. I'll position myself to observe everything you cannot."

—

I panted, cycling clean air into my lungs with wind magic. It barely helped. The smoke from the growing fire—a grainery to the side of a mercantile square—hung hazy in the square. There was a flash of movement that half startled me before I realized it was Aetherya, scaling a multi-story common house near the fire, clinging to a brick chimney, bow drawn, perfectly still.

Everything Sevran described held true. A long line of dirty, sweat-sodden faces formed, weathering the storm of spirits armed with pails and wine-skins, moving in tandem. The prior orderliness of the Crimson Brand had evaporated. For the most part they held their position to the side, watching the fire warily.

With growing frustration, I squinted through the sting of smoke, scanning every open window, looking for movement, the flash of a robe, searching for the damning violet glow that would finally, finally confirm my suspicions.

But it never came. Most open windows either belonged to families who were frantically packing with intention to flee, or showed little movement at all. I was desperate enough to settle for a sole, seemingly unbothered figure, focused in the chaos, but even in that I was left wanting.

I glanced up towards Aetherya, who shook her head.

Damn.

Below, one of the Crimson Brand tentatively approached the blazing building. He straightened his back, perfecting his posture before extending an arm towards the fire. A column of water exploded from his palm, highly pressurized, bigger around than a man's head.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

I tensed at the display. Elemental water was not the joke many made it out to be. Weaved correctly, a tightly focused spray could strip flesh from bone. The sheer volume and force the mage below was putting out would break the wall before it extinguished anything.

But that didn't mesh with the violent sizzle that reached my ears, moments later.

Begrudgingly, I had to give credit to the mage. Using void at a distance was already unheard of. This was something else. A typical void mage could counter practically any magic. From what Bell and others had said, the scale of the magic didn't really matter once close enough to touch. I'd seen it countless times in sparring. The fire was there, then it was gone. But sabotaging the magic somehow, giving the appearance that it failed?

Whoever they were, they were strong. Terrifyingly strong. To the point I was doubting Ozra's and Vogrin's collective guess that the void mage was mortal.

I made a circular gesture, then pulled it down in a fist.

They're here. Somewhere in the perimeter.

Aetherya acknowledged the command. I tensed. There was a part of me that was frightened. But somewhere else, somewhere darker, sprung a desire for a worthy foe, if only to escape the guilt. The guilt I felt, every time I thought about how happy I'd been to be home. How guileless and carefree.

Where are you?

The faces of Topside still ferrying the pails flowed below me, and I focused on them, looking for anyone well-kept or out of place. There was nothing yet. But he'd be experienced, well-versed in blending in. Just a little longer—

A thud startled me from the malaise, followed by the skittering of wood on stone. With a returning sense of irritation, I retrieved the arrow my Elven banner lieutenant saw fit to shoot at me, and unwound the message.

THE FIRE IS GETTING WORSE.

I looked up startled, only to realize she was right. The flames were climbing higher up the building now, and buildings in Topside were tightly packed. Any longer and we'd risk them spreading.

"Keep watch."

With that, I stepped to the edge of the building, balancing carefully on the roof of the vagrant's den. Exposing myself this way wasn't ideal, but I needed to see the magic, make sure it wasn't altered in some way.

I breathed in, summoning the Dantalion. Countless motes of violet light slid down my palms, to my legs, down the building's front, spreading out, traveling over wheelbarrows and beneath overturned carts. They were small enough that I could no longer see them, only feel them, traversing hills and valleys in the gravel, approaching the building in tandem. I positioned them around the points where the fire burned brightest.

And then, I stopped suppressing, allowing the motes to burn brightly, hemorrhaging mana to contain them. There was no interference. Nothing from the void mage. The tiny vibrant fires lost their color, burning white, hotter than any flame had a right to be, consuming the air itself.

Slowly, then quickly, the inferno died.

A ragged cheer broke out on the street, but I barely noticed. Across the clearing, Aetherya was shaking her head.

No movement.

Dammit. I snarled, ditching any remaining instinct to stay hidden and dropped down the front of the building, barely remembering to place an aegis and break my fall. There was a reason this was happening. The void mage played a part, of that much, I was certain.

Unfortunately, the rules of Topside—scatter as soon as the crisis is averted—gave them perfect cover.

I darted from person to person, taking in their faces, peeking under hoods, looking for anyone out of the ordinary, checking if Aetherya had found someone and growing more desperate when I realized she hadn't.

In the span of minutes, there were more ghosts than people. Floating specters and ambling silhouettes.

Aetherya descended from her perch in an acrobatic series of hops, beginning on a distant awning all the way to where she landed beside me, solidly. "Well. That was a disappointment."

"They were here." I snapped, shuddering in discomfort as one of the silhouettes walked through me, leaving behind a cold, cloying sensation.

"Yet there was nothing to report." Aetherya breathed a long sigh. "It is no accident the void mage has remained hidden for so long. But we must think strategically. Subjecting a granary to arson is senseless. We must accept the possibility the fire was lit as a distraction."

"I'm telling you, they were here." I seethed, still scanning the square, finding little beyond frightened expressions. "It's the only explanation for what happened to the water. They were just here."

Aetherya shrugged, unbothered. "Experience suggests we will not pick up this trail for sometime. Carry on the search if you wish. But I must tend my greater duties."

Ever so briefly, I entertained the idea of ordering her to stay, before eventually dismissing it. There was less tension between us these days, but it was far from gone. And I was meant to be above using my power for pettiness.

I waved her away, watching with clenched fists as the Elven lieutenant sprang up the nearby wall.

Cephur chose her for a reason.

We'd never seen the void mage leave. And yes, Aetherya could be right, the bastard could have slipped away through a blind-spot, maybe even with the aid of a glamour. But there was an obvious, second possibility. In lieu of support, I scoured the square, searching any possible hiding spot. They could be hiding in plain sight, beneath the curtains of a shuttered stall, peeking through the gaps of planks in a doorway.

As I attempted to look everywhere at once, hope dwindled. The square was entirely abandoned, save the owner of the granary, surveying the damage.

Still, I pressed on. Searching for something. Anything.

The ghosts grew more numerous. In human form they were harmless, but every time they passed through me, it was like the very warmth was being siphoned from my chest.

With every possibility expended, I sidestepped a lone specter, intending to question the granary's owner.

And stopped short when a frigid hand clamped down on my wrist.

"Please... Help me..." A familiar voice whispered.