WitchHunter ✔️

Pyrophobia

A double upload tonight since the first was a tad shorter than I'd like. 

Ace

The flames lick their way up the sides of homes, shops, and churches, engulfing the town around me. The heat has dispelled any moisture in the air, leaving my skin to prickle against the roaring inferno. Screams rattle against my eardrums, and I clamp my eyes shut, trying to will myself out of this situation. This can't be happening.

Crow whinnies under me, the flames creeping closer. "Ace?" Candor's voice is quiet, and my eyes pop open. The sun is getting low. All is quiet in the port town, no fire in sight. "You okay?" He asks, keeping his voice low, out of earshot of Hale.

I dig my palm across my eye. "Yeah, sorry. Sleep deprived."

"Did you not sleep well after last night?"

"Did you?" I look up at him. "I mean, this lochri has both a fire and a water curse. Shouldn't we all be a little concerned?"

The tall man smiles down at me from his horse, his teeth white, facial hair sprouting along his jaw. "The three of us have seen more battle than you have, Sweeting. Twists like this rarely affect us anymore. The fact that they do affect you doesn't discredit you as a soldier, but you should work to move past that. Surprises come, and rest is crucial when the stakes get high."

Part of me feels like I should be offended, but I know he's probably right. I haven't seen as much as they have. I deal with normal people. The lochri in Hale's room the night of the party was the first I'd ever fought. Hunting them is their job. As long as they aren't worried, I should calm my head.

Hale sits high on his horse, his back perfectly straight as the sun begins to dip below the horizon. It's clear that he's agitated, and the twins know it, hence Cador's quiet voice. Today was the first day of the festival. It's well known that Hale Arsen has mixed feelings about the Cleansing Festival. It's a celebration of the Hunters, of which he is the best, and he has always loved the praise, but his parents were killed in the Cleansing, so the day holds a lot of anger and sadness for him as well, though he stopped throwing the tantrums when he turned 15. I vividly remember the last one. Cleansing day when he was 14. He nearly burned down the stables with all of the horses inside. I still have burns on my skin from trying to save Crow. I was only 8. It's a miracle that the stable boy and I were able to get the fire out in time. Hale was standing dumbstruck outside, shoulders slouched, staring at the smoky structure when the stable boy and I stumbled out, choking on smoke after successfully quelling the flames and releasing the horses to the pasture. Zeif, the stableskeep whose fingers I had taken, was quick to clutch his young ward to himself, and turn his anger on Hale, and, in turn, Velius. I had been upset. Both the stable boy and Hale had someone there for them. I had no one. No one checked on me to make sure I was okay.

That day taught me an important lesson that I carry with me still today. I can only depend on myself. I guess I have Hale Arsen to thank for that.

Something taps my ankle and I glance down. A small boy, maybe 9, with unruly brown hair and green eyes looks up at me from the cobbles. "Excuse me, Miss. My mother told me to give this to you." He holds up a folded slip of paper, and I reach down to retrieve it. No sooner had the note left his grasp than he was sprinting away, disappearing around a corner into an alley. Hale and Cozen are speaking to a merchant and don't notice, but Candor looks to me quizzically. "What was that about?"

"Not sure." I say, unfolding the paper. Ink is sprawled across the page, smudged just slightly. To the West of town, there lies an old parish. The church in front is in ruins, but the home behind is well kept. You will find who you are looking for there. I'm sorry I couldn't get this to you sooner. The townspeople are protecting the lochri. You are being lied to.