FireSweet

Inferno

            I closed my eyes, trying to summon my magic to my fingers.  Initially I couldn’t find anything, no heat, no playful sparks racing through my soul.  I had to work, to scour my system from end to end, dragging each flicker of magic toward my palms.  It was a pitiful amount, not enough to fight with had I needed to.  Yet as I pulled together what little I had left, I silently begged the Griffon to let it be enough, remembering at the last moment to hold one spark back, a single drop of magic to keep me alive.

            I placed my palms together, sending little streams of fire from one hand to the other at the contact.  I threw my arms apart, yanking my hands apart and turning my palms toward my back, forcing the fire around me to clear in a 20 foot radius.  I spun frantically, searching, searching….

            Her arm was lying within my cleared circle.  I shook with relief and effort, my legs shaking as I ran to Briamy’s side and pulled her into my arms.  I staggered from the added weight; breathing though clenched teeth as my muscles screamed in protest.  Dizzy from the simple effort, I forced my feet to move us out of the inferno, to get Briamy to safety. 

            It felt like hours, but it couldn’t have been, or Briamy would have been dead.  We tripped though a stream at some point; it sent us both tumbling into the water.   When I finally managed to climb to my feet I turned and saw a wall of fire behind me, held at bay by the stream.  Picking up Briamy a second time took an Olympic effort.  The world began to tilt and whirl.  I knew, even then I knew there was no way I was walking straight.  I was acutely aware of the single drop of magic, flickering in my heart.  I held it there, stopping it from doing anything to heat me from the fall in the stream, stopping it from doing anything.  I got colder as we walked, staggering into trees more times than I could count in my addled state.  Briamy remained unconscious, her dead weight making me wish I had worked on my strength at one point during my time with Mají’s crew.

            I pleaded with the Griffon at some point, and he must have heard me, because I heard my voice through the forest.  I thought I was dreaming, hallucinating maybe, for it was Flint’s face that swam hazily in my vision.  He was speaking to me, his face panicked as he looked between Briamy and I.

            “Sorry,” I breathed.

            I dropped Briamy in his arms, and succumbed to the darkness.  I passed out.

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            I opened my eyes to darkness, I could see nothing. Almost immediately I began to shiver from the cold, wearily bringing my arms up to hug myself.  I heard muffled voices nearby, male and female.  I strained to make out their conversation, but could hear nothing before I gave up and slipped back into darkness.

            When I next entered consciousness I felt a little more awake, a little more alive.  The sun shone on my face and a breeze ruffled my hair from where I lie.  I did not recognize where I was, a quick survey only showing me a brilliant blue sky scattered with a few fluffy clouds.  There was no roof, and no walls, like we were on a roof of some sort.  I started to sit up, but was slammed with dizziness, nausea, and a headache all at the same time.  Needless to say I put my head back down immediately. 

            Slowly I remembered what had happened, Mají, running, the inferno, and Briamy.  Guilty for not looking for my friend sooner, I lifted my head a second time and looked around, rewarded by the sight of her sleeping form on a pallet around 10 feet from my own. 

            Her skin was raw and pink, still bubbled in a few places.  Her hair was short and ragged, chopped off around her ears.  I could hear her breath if I held my own, rattling in her chest on both the inhale and the exhale.  Most importantly, she was o.k.  Her face wasn’t warped and twisted, no section of her looking like a melted terror from a horror movie.  It was obvious that she would live.