The Night Rider

Chapter 63 - Pull

Fire.

All he could see was fire.

Endless fire that stretched towards an unknowable horizon that dipped and coiled against a broken sky. The artificial dome of the Divide that rarely came into view was blocked by sheer, endless rock that never crumbled despite the chuck of earth that had been cleared from seemingly nothing. Despite all of that, Hawkins had always felt...connected. Until now.

"Rin! Rin!"

Mantis' coughing fit broke him out of his haze, the dust built up from the grit and gravel of collapsed buildings had clearly decayed from more than age. The once familiar streets of Axis churned into a grey mass of haze not even Hawkins could see through. Strange, clinging vines of gossamer green wisps clung to his dishevelled shirt like creepy spider webs that emerged from the ground only to be burnt up by the excess blast.

The knot in Hawkins stomach wouldn't go away.

It was the same gut feeling that had plunged him into Memoriam's grasp and tinged every step forwards since then. It was the fear of being lost to time that Gizmo had insisted was anything but good news. It was the gut punch of betrayal over and over that would not leave his mind no matter how many times it happened. He always forgave and part of him hated it. Odi had lied yet here she was falling into step with him, calling out just as desperately as the others.

"Rin! Where are you?"

Mantis had already charged ahead, the streak of silver, patchy hair was cut raggedly from her earlier head injury, his flames unable to restore the fibres from such a wound. The only thing Hawkins could follow in the dense fog of smoke was the dull aquamarine glow of August's wings blurring alongside her. Despite all the pain, all the aching tiredness that refused to leave him Hawkins forced himself not to leave the Air Traited behind.

Much like a ship cutting through the ice, the awkward shapes of dense rubble veered into them, threatening to break their footing but Hawkins could sense the others through the lessening smoke. He started subconsciously counting every new building and analysing every brick and window pane, absentmindedly picking out a stone in his mind as a point of navigation. He couldn't help but recognise this place despite the rubble beneath their feet.

A familiar wave of unease made him feel too warm despite only wearing a long sleeved shirt for the cold night air. He instinctively patted himself down for any sign of the black grimoire like trying to extinguish a fire but the threadbare book had doubled in number as a familiar notebook fell open. It was Rin's.

The hollow ache of her absence surged him forwards, breaking Hawkins from the familiar pull of knowing more about Memoriam's addictive embrace and tucked the notebook close to his chest. The sound of rushing flame and cracking Trait grew louder but the only thing Hawkins could focus on was the sound of a child sobbing.

"Rin!"

He called out once more, startled by the familiar shape of a galloping Odi, curving her wings into herself as she gave Hack and the Tinker Mole's a much needed lift. His stomach untwisted a little at the sound of a familiar voice being so upset, blinking in the low light despite the familiar rise of the Hanging Sun. Another day stuck here. He didn't know how long they'd last.

"You OK, boyo?"

Hawkins nodded, shivering at how easy it was for him to slip into the half aware state for Memoriam to exploit but a familial shove from Cull barely a few staggering steps behind them. The gruff Fire Traited inclined his head towards an eternally puzzled elven, desperately scanning around the sepia tinged stronghold around them.

"Ashes....blood and ashes." Hawkins swore before he could stop himself, his eyes casting over the broken pillars that made up the large pile of discarded pages.