Ashes of the Fallen

Chapter 6: With A Side Of Pyro

“Oh look! She does have a voice. Fancy that.” Nemera said wearily, her attempt at a joke doing nothing to change the situation.

The ominous drip of the pipes became a loud rattling cacophony that refused to stop, the gushing sound of water cascading down the intricate stonework but despite the dimming light Nemera couldn’t find the source. Her hat barely protected her from the sudden indoor rainstorm, Siara’s blinking gaze refused to leave her prisoner.

“Siara…”

Nemera internally cursed her shaking voice, barely audible against her fear with every step they took away from the cells. The Sunstress refused to move, her hands furiously sparking against the curtain of water that attempted to block the young girl from view. There was no time to worry about her. They needed to get out.

“I…I’m not good at swimming, Nemera. I’m…I’m scared of water.” Siara admitted, her voice barely louder than her own.

The room lurched ever closer the moment Siara’s brave face crumpled at the quickly flooding prison, the arkalite switches that had once guided her way being submerged in furious waterfalls. Dammit this kid was smarter than she gave her credit for.

Trying to stay near the middle of the room, Nemera felt a chill down her spine only for rain to become sleeting hail and then snow in an instant, the sound of the pipes clanging along and settling on rain once again. Counting the agonising seconds the room switched again to sweltering heat enough to send her to her knees, shivering from the gale force winds summoned from every corner of the room.

“Calm down. You know these tunnels better than anyone. This place changes the environment to suit whichever Forecaster is present in these cells. You said so yourself. The pipes pump hot air for Stormspell mages and cold for Sunspell. It might change for you if you can get to the panel…“ Nemera retorted more for herself than anyone else.

Nemera swore loudly, her sluggish brain trying to piece together the increments in delay but the constant temperature drops only made the allure of sleep ever stronger. Just…five minutes. Surely Basra’s boring engineering class wouldn’t mind if she slept for another few minutes...

A sharp jolt of pain made her yelp, her sleeve burning despite the rising floods reaching her knees and weighing her down. Looking up to find her saviour, the Sunspell elf was crouched in an eerily similar position, unable to summon enough light for herself let alone wake her up.

Nemera looked up.

There, hidden above the light of the Blackstar river the dimming blue light turned purple. The cracks that had begun to form within the strange stone had been flash heated, a familiar trail of stardust gently sealed the rusty pipes with a little more strength that was necessary.

Comet hadn’t left her.

Squeezing himself into another gap in the wall, the little Pyro Trollian dove into another exposed pipe and soared out the other end, welding it shut just out of pure curiosity rather than any form of strategy. He danced among the waves of rushing water like it was nothing, dodging and weaving joyously as if the Pressurehold was one big obstacle course he could play in until he was ready to move on to the next interesting thing. A big, shiny, button.

Nemera laughed.

She hadn’t laughed that loudly in years. It was bold, angry, frustrated, relieved and delighted all at once even as the Trollian barely noticed she was there. Nemera had never trusted in luck before. Always choosing meticulous planning over relying on the strengths of others. It was what blinded her to Basra’s ambitions being different from her own. It was what failed her when her own dragon betrayed her. It was what she failed to do to stop Midari from sacrificing herself. She would not do the same to Comet.

Nemera took a deep breath and let the cold seize her lungs.

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears but she ignored it, the familiar sepia vision pulling the Pulse closer to her but she forced the comforting view of her Spirit Bar back. Nemera grit her teeth. She needed to stay here. Her chest hurt with every breath she took, trying to resist the urge to reach for the ash with Siara’s cloak and rip the veil between the dead and the living clear. She could end this in an afternoon…no. This had to be done right. Neridia wouldn’t accept necromancy as proof.

What she needed was time to think.

“I can’t…the pipes should work for her….I don’t know what to do…”

Siara’s voice woke Nemera from her half dazed state, still knee deep in water but with no signs of it rising any time soon. Dizzyingly cold, she wrenched the sodden cloak from the Sunspell’s clammy hands and forced her to look in her direction. Five seconds. That’s all the Pulse could provide her.

“Siara. Stop. It’s OK, everything is OK. Comet can open the doors but only enough to get you through. I need you to tell people what’s going on. I think she’s a different kind of Forecaster…” Nemera rambled, her brain still whirring away at frightening speeds.

Nemera’s self control over her theorising burst forth with the over reliance on her Pulse, allowing her a few scarce seconds in exchange for a cost she’d no doubt feel in the morning. She hoped Siara ignored her slip ups about Comet and that the young child trapped in the Pressurehold would forgive her for the lie.

“A Wildspell mage…but that’s a myth. They’d never believe me.” Siara said, believing the lie with wide, innocent, desperate eyes that almost broke her heart.

She had to believe her. She had to get Siara out. She had to trust what Comet was doing, whatever he was doing was worth risking her life to do it. For some unbelievable reason he had not only come back for her but he was able to swim. She had to find out why.

“Then make them believe you. You’re the damn Sunstress for Hell’s sake. You can at least convince the Rainfall Brigade to turn them off. I’ll hold the water off until then.” Nemera insisted, pulling her to her feet despite the weight of her wet clothes weighing her down.

Nemera knew how quickly fear tended to take hold. The reminder of the looming, dark tunnels ahead filled her with more dread than any attempt to drown her ever could but Siara…she was feeling that level of fear right now. Someone needed to be the calm one. Someone needed to stay behind.

“I’m sorry-“

“Don’t. Just run.”

Siara’s hand trembled, still clutching the victim's cloak like a security blanket, still shivering against the wall nearest the largest bolthole secured tight. Nemera gently clutched her hands and guided her towards the sealed exit, the weather eerily quiet as if watching to see what she would do. With one eye on her Agar, the Sunstress dropped the cloak in a flag of surrender and hugged her goodbye.

Right now, Nemera couldn’t tell Comet to do anything.

But Comet never needed to be told. He did what he wanted.

Nemera whistled as loud as she could to get his attention, the brick dust falling rapidly at the sheer buzzing, excitement of the destructive might of her Agar. With the speed of a manic pinball, Comet head butted every brick and block he could find in an attempt to find a new toy just like she promised. A bit of luck would go a long way right now.

“Comet! Playtime!”

Her voice echoed despite the confines of the caves ahead, a trigger word for any excitable puppy-like spirit desperate to investigate and uncover literally anything within reach. Especially, a great, big, glowing piece of arkalite sticking out like that. After all, Trollians loved shiny things.

“Nemera…” Siara began, but her apologetic smile was all Nemera could see before the wall opened out before her.

Nemera gave her a reassuring nod and shoved her through the gap.