It wasn't the first time Hawkins had awoken to the smell of smoke.
It was the smell of his mother's cooking burnt by her Trait again while his father laughed and hugged him. His jacket held the scent of coal and soot, his smell of smoke now comforting the bad odour of dinner.
He longed to be a child again. Completely oblivious to his mother's grief and drunken beatings. But no matter how much he wished for it, he knew that wherever smoke settled, ash soon followed.
The burning trail of cinders always led to the rotting plants and dead ground. It was the taste of hunger, the nagging pain of forgotten birthdays and burnt books that didn't belong to him. It stained everything he owned including his fallen Agar. After all, ashes only led to suffering.
Hawkins couldn't get the sound of screaming out of his head. The living city of Axis had been turned into a warzone. The old buildings had been decimated and the outer walls had crumbled under the weight of Gizmo's Craft made bombs. The debris had exploded into the sky, raining down on them like shards of glass as the eruptions became louder and the impact sending them colliding into crumbling walls and into the dense fog of unconsciousness.
But now he had been jolted awake by the pain in his arm, the very same arm the Overtaken had broken so many days ago. Yet the screaming remained. The screaming that made his ears ring wasn't from Rin or Mantis or Odi. It was the heart of Axis itself. He could feel it whimpering in agony like a dog that had been shot, its streets covered in deep blisters and gouges of overturned buildings. It was like a would gaping open, a rift barely staying stable.
"Oh good. You're not dead."
A familiar voice replied into the gloom, Hawkins recognising Hack's gruff tone anywhere. But the jolt of relief soon turned sour as the smoke parted along with the steadily rising flames.
The male Firestep wolf snorted, immediately noticing how Hawkins' face had fallen. Hazard clambered past the debris with ease, the explosions in the background causing his pelt to flare ominously.
"You're better off here than where he is right now, Mediator." He said, as if already reading his mind.
His gruff voice made Hawkins heart plummet, immediately worried by Hazard's smug expression. Before he even knew it he was yelling at the Firestep wolf with all his might.
"Where is he? What've you done with him?"
The Firestep wolf growled low, silencing him with his dragon like glare.
"Enough. You of all people should know that speculation gets you nowhere. Besides, if it weren't for my sister and I patrolling the back entrance we never would've found you."
Hawkins avoided his gaze, wincing as he moved a little too sudden for his injuries, rubbing the back of his head. Strangely, it was warmer than he expected and it made him realise how much the surly Firestep wolf had helped him. He had used his flames to heal.
"You saved me. Why?" Hawkins asked, awkwardly lowering his voice as he realised he jumped to conclusions.
"It's what Rin asked of me. Nothing more, Mediator."
But before Hawkins could thank him, a loud series of gunshots made him duck, flinching at the sound of a loud commotion. The flash of fire warped into his father's face, gaunt and unfocused and then again as the bullet tore through the creature's skull.
A third flash was the familiar scaly sight of a much younger Hack standing over him protectively. Hawkins blinked, the memories slowly fading and bringing him back to his senses, not realising he had crumpled over in fear.
His hands were shaking, his breathing barely able to remain steady but the calming flames in front of him helped regulate his Trait. He almost wanted to reach out and touch it but he restrained himself, the realisation that Hazard was acting just as the Sand Wraith had done so many years ago.
"What do we do about the Enforcers? Or Gizmo? He's still out there, we can't-"
"Yes we can. For now, you need to stop and breathe." Hazard said, his voice changing to a much kinder tone.
Hawkins barely heard the wolf lie down beside him, the sudden flash fire that billowed gently downwards as if aware of his struggles. He tried to ignore the hulking wolf's size, going through the exercises Hack taught him to settle his Trait and himself in the process. But he didn't expect the Firestep wolf to include himself in the situation.
"You're just like Rin, y'know? Like a little cub, curious and wobbly but full of ideas. They may be the wrong one's at first but you'll get there eventually. You just need to take a breath and let the flame come to you."
Hazard's advice was a little strange but Hawkins could at least understand that his words had heart to them. The sound of his breath pounded in his ears, attempting to force himself to breathe deeply and steady himself.
Little by little, his breathing and his Trait began to replenish and confine itself back into its slightly erratic and unpredictable nature. The heat of his breath came out in steady puffs of air as Hazard's unsullied flame continued to provide light and warmth to his weary state.
"I should've known he'd be here with that runt Gidget. I can smell his kind a mile away if it wasn't for the smoke. But I know Gizmo would've found a way even without your Trait blocking his scent. It's been useful, I admit."
Hawkins couldn't help but feel glad that Odi hadn't been here to hear that. After all, her Agar was a Tinker Mole and calling him 'his kind' wouldn't exactly go down well with her.
But despite Hazard's encouragement he couldn't help but feel bad that he couldn't do anything more to help. The reminder of how he had tried so hard to use his Fire Trait to tirelessly ignite candles with his mother snapping at him. But the memory of his mother being there didn't seem right.
Shaking his head, Hawkins tried to sit up and focus on what he did know. Moving his feet slowly he tried to pick himself up off the ground but struggled to find his balance.
Quick as a flash, Hazard caught Hawkins as he fell, providing him something to hold on to. His flaming fur was calm and thankfully the fire didn't hurt him. He didn't know whether it was his half Fire Trait ability or that Hazard had lessened his flames to allow him to grab on.
"Do you know where he went?" Hawkins asked, attempting to stand up while using the Firestep wolf as support.
Hazard grunted, attempting to hold up the extra weight as much as he could before sniffing the air. Hawkins was grateful his Trait wasn't very active so Gizmo's scent had a better chance to travel.
"No. But the Bewitcher is here, albeit further away than I expected."
Hawkins had to process it twice before he actually registered what Hazard had said. It was like reading a book and jumping straight to the main antagonist instead of spending time to get to know the characters.
It left him stunned for a few seconds, genuinely scared that the wolf could pinpoint her location. But the sudden sense of determination forced him to stop leaning against the oversized wolf, hobbling and swaying with every wheezy breath. He needed to stand on his own.
"Then we need to go to where Cricket is. She probably knows about-"
Hazard growled angrily, narrowing his eyes as he turned to face the Mediator. His pelt was flaring angrily but his eyes were cold, almost making Hawkins stumble backwards in the sudden change of attitude.
"You will do nothing. You have done enough meddling in our business. Take that grimoire of yours and leave."
Hawkins' mouth dropped open, visibly hurt by the quick change of attitude but then the cogs in his brain began to turn. Mantis' face popped into his mind, her earlier outburst hiding a lot of insecurities.
What Hazard was doing right now was exactly the same. He was hiding his fear with brash comments and a tough facade but truthfully, Hazard wanted him to leave and try to save himself.
"Not happening."
Hawkins turned on his heel in an attempt to go towards the direction Hazard had gestured with his tail. The black grimoire burned within his pocket as if guiding him towards the source while letting him know it was still glued to the hidden pocket near his chest.
It was both a foreboding reminder and a small comfort that at least the black grimoire was on his side. Hazard tried to follow him towards the emanating heat signature, his wavering voice still demanding to be heard.
"Did you hear me? You need to leave, now!"
Hawkins ignored him, shrugging off his jacket and tied the two sleeves together and created a makeshift sling before wrapping it around his arm. It wasn't perfect but it would do. The worrying thing was, he had to take out the black grimoire and put it in his much looser trouser pocket.
"No, I don't. I promised Hack I'd do what I could. I promised Odi we'd get her healed and I promised Rin that she'd make a great Mediator someday. A Mediator doesn't lie. We protect the truth."
Just as he finished his tirade the Mediator staggered a little, his pace dropping but Hazard ran ahead and rerighted him immediately. Gruffly, the Firestep wolf swore intelligibly and helped support him regardless of earlier grievances.
"You're insane. Your whole family is completely insane."
"Well, so is yours." Hawkins snapped, the sudden rise of anger towards his 'family' surprising even himself with his loyalty.
Hazard couldn't help but chuckle, not even denying Hawkins had seen through his fear. Hawkins smiled awkwardly, grateful he had emptied all his pockets otherwise the wolf would've been sprayed with all manner of decayed and burnt bits and bobs.
The rest of his stuff had been unceremoniously dumped, fallen out or disintegrated in the blast. At least he could attempt to file for compensation but the likelihood of him being refunded due to a mad Tinker Mole attack was...debatable.
"I guess the alliance still stands even after it's been blown to hell and back." Hazard said jokingly, sideling beside the hobbling Mediator.
It felt like a strange place for a casual walk, traipsing through a warzone avoiding death traps and debris. It was just like any other day off.
He noted how the Firestep had deliberately moved in front, navigating obstacles and notifying him with a single flick of his tail. Hawkins' mouth tweaked upwards, he couldn't help but compare the surly wolf to a guide dog making him chuckle.
"Of course it is. Who else could survive such a thing?" Hawkins replied, his injuries becoming less and less nagging but still made him wince.
"Who else indeed, mon ami."
As if the universe had overheard his initial annoyance over the situation, they decided to add another continuous problem to the mix.
Gizmo looked a lot worse for wear than before, his fur now scruffy and his suit badly torn with his cane nowhere to be seen. It looked as if he was desperate to double over in exhaustion but was fighting back out of pride. He stood triumphantly on top of his mound of rubble like a child on a bouncy castle.
But Hazard had turned immediately hostile, growling with his hackles raised along with the flames on his back. Hawkins was much more subdued, he could tell that Gizmo was frantically looking for something and had gotten completely frazzled doing it.
It was kind of like a goat wanting to hop about on its own creation, his eyes darting around the debris ridden area as if not wanting to ruin his already bedraggled state. Whatever he was looking for he obviously didn't want to fight them for it.
"What do you want, Gizmo?" Hawkins asked in a bored tone, exhausted and utterly fed up of interruptions.
He vaguely knew of Gizmo’s ability or Craft thanks to his days in the library and extra research done as a Mediator. But anyone who wasn’t a Traited would have abilities far beyond their understanding.
Ever since the Divide had caused a rift between the different countries and their cultures the amount of information known about them had dwindled into the bare minimum of what each race was capable of.
After all, it was everyone for themselves in this world and as short as ten years had seemed to them to those who seeked answers it was a lifetime.
A Forger Craft like Gizmo was slightly similar to a Fire Traited without a grimoire, but instead of the Trait being fuelled by anger or emotion it was strengthened through their senses. Forgers couldn’t directly wield fire like Traited but they could see different heat signatures in people, the earth and in various ores, metals and other conductors.
Even the minerals in the air or dust created by sandstorms could be seen and forged into something new. It acted as an amplifier and could be stored within the Tinker Mole’s claws or any object they chose.
In this case, Gizmo had chosen his cane and had used the cool night air and the heat within the metal object to override the rest of his already stored Craft. It was a smart but simple solution considering how Gizmo had entered through Hawkins' Smoke Trait and kept the focus on himself.
His claws were unsheathed at the time, only when he grabbed his cane and had a full view of the glowing earth pockets he had created. More than likely he had done the same thing to traverse the leftover rubble by adding heat and using the miniscule explosions to rocket himself where he needed to go.
Hawkins had heard rumours and stories from Hack that Tinker Mole’s with varying levels of Craft could see just as well as he could in his old age. But after all, it was just a theory and Hawkins had no doubt he was good at producing many, many theories. The only thing he couldn’t figure out was why Gizmo had returned here.
"No threats? No questions? Not even a query as to why I'm here? Well, normally I have plenty of audiences who are-"
"As you can see, I have other things to attend to." Hawkins drawled, gesturing to his own injuries and the devastation around him. "So unless you have an anecdote or a short quip about how to beat a deranged child who uses people like toys then I don't have time."
Gizmo blinked twice, as if surprised by his reaction and the fact the angry Firestep wolf had not decided to charge straight for him. His gaze passed between the Mediator and the Lariat bound wolf and gave a knowing smile.
"But you do, Monsieur Médiateur. My...misguided partenaire she was after more than I could provide, you see."
Gizmo was only a few metres away now, his movements surprisingly sluggish as his bloodshot eyes attempted to focus on his task ahead. His tattered and frayed suit was covered in a thin layer of dust and grime and sat awkwardly on his shoulders. It was as if he was trying to hide something, the collar of his shirt raised a lot higher than normal.
"A Tinker Mole must keep all his...appendages attached, or at least aim to." Gizmo smiled winningly, but Hawkins could see how tired he truly was.
"She wanted you dead, ya damn crackpot."
Hawkins snorted at the Firestep wolf's bluntness, stunning Gizmo into silence like he had been petrified. His face was a mix of shock and disgust as if Hazard had spat in his face. Adjusting his tie, Gizmo attempted to divert their attention away from his embarrassment but Hawkins could tell how much pain he was in.
"Indeed. A soul is not a worthy price as you well know, young Vargar. But if you provide me with a different opportunity I have the knowledge you and your companion seek."
Hazard laughed coldly, as if fully expecting Gizmo's comment before he'd even said it. It was like he could predict what the sly Tinker Mole was about to hint at next but Hawkins was still mystified by the fact that Hazard was a Vargar.
It wasn't much of a title to an oblivious Traited who was only concerned with their own country but to a nerd like Hawkins it was like finding gold in a sack of dragon dung.
The surly, rude, snarky Firestep wolf and his reckless sister were the two leaders of their kind and the heirs to the entire Ironwood forest. But for some reason, they didn't do what their kind had agreed in a treaty with the Spiritwalkers and for some reason had gotten stuck here instead.
They were miles from their home in Nocturus and acted more like the Wildlings he had heard of than the proud leaders who had once protected their home during Fyrebloom and Fallblayze. No wonder the elusive kitsune had hid themselves away if their reckless counterparts were all the way out here.
The Spiritwalkers had once agreed to a pact between their races after the endless battles against each other and the Traited had dwindled their numbers into extinction. Now, they shared the responsibility and during Blistrfall and Bitrfyre the kitsunes did their duty to their home and the Firestep wolves had done their duty until the anti demon barriers were constructed.
So why? Why was Hazard and Blaize here? Why did they force a Lariat with Rin and Cull and how did Gizmo of all people know that?
The Tinker Mole smiled wickedly, as if able to read his mind and ambled down towards him as if sensing his confusion and the advantage he had over him. Whatever Gizmo wanted it was like trying to bargain with the devil but far more dangerous.
He knew how to use his Snakecharmer ability and Craft effortlessly along with his habit of collecting secrets, it was a deadly combination. It was like he enjoyed dividing and manipulating people to his will. No wonder the Mediators wanted him off the streets of the Undercity. Someone like that would only bring chaos wherever they stepped. The shifting rubble avalanche Gizmo had slid down cascaded gently behind him as if completely planned out by him and his Craft.
Hawkins couldn’t help but be distracted by the falling rocks tumbling into the upended shards around Odi’s home. He was fed up with Gizmo's showboating and Hazard’s bickering that his mind just wandered along with the eerie quiet. There were no sounds of fighting or explosions or even the sound of survivors trying to keep awake and coherent.
Not even the fading smell of smoke could comfort him as his ears were irritated by a high pitched buzzing a few metres away from where Gizmo was standing. A flash of movement caught his eye and immediately his brain zoomed in on the miniscule figure of a distressed Thyraxian flitting about an unconscious half elf.
"Mantis."
Hawkins felt his body move before he even registered it, barrelling past the stout Tinker Mole who was completely oblivious to the crisis.
"Non, non. This has nothing to do with her at all, Jerimiah." Gizmo reiterated, annoyed he was interrupted so easily.
Hazard however, immediately rushed into action and scampered towards the now frantic Thyraxian, calling back to the Tinker Mole with a wolfish grin.
"He means he found her, you indrada."
Hawkins staggered towards them both, hyper focused on getting to the young Windspell mage despite his own injuries. He couldn't even bring himself to laugh at Hazard's idiot quip or Gizmo's spryly running in those shoes and the thought of getting angry over someone using his first name seemed petty considering the emergency.
"I can't...I can't stop the bleeding. How do I stop it? I-"
Hawkins knelt beside Thea, her partner's blood dripping from a large gash in her head. Wincing, he wasted no time in unravelling his coat that was securing his injured arm in place. Shaking it free of any glass or dust, he pressed his jacket onto the wound.
"It's alright. It's just a small cut, not too deep." He lied, trying to deviate from the fact his jacket was now completely soaked with blood.
Mantis' blue Windspell aura was flickering dangerously, its power causing her veins to ebb with unused power. Her grimoire was wilted and its pages were being ripped apart seam by seam. They burned into the abyss of nothingness, signifying her memory dwindling on the end of a knife's edge before everything ended.
"But...her ribs. I think they're broken." Thea whispered, her antennas trembling as the Firestep wolf took her to one side.
Mantis' silver hair was matted with blood but Hawkins was more concerned by her barely audible breathing. The only reason he knew she was still alive was her grimoire. Hazard hung close by and comforted the young insect sprite by booping her on the nose.
Gizmo loitered around the group like he was waiting around for a lift, kicking at a few sparse stones that surrounded them. Hawkins glared at him angrily only to come up with a last ditch idea with regards to his rare Craft.
"Gizmo?" Hawkins asked him, helplessly putting pressure on the gushing wound.
The Tinker Mole immediately through his claws up in distress and shook his claws in a hesitant no.
"Non. My Craft is the opposite of what you need. It is for destruction, not restoration."
"Hazard?" Hawkins' voice faltered, the wolf backing away from his tail flat at the sight of his companions hands covered in blood.
"I'm sorry. Blaize healed you before she headed off to find everyone else. If she was here...she could-"
"Not even a Vargar, the two leaders of the Firestep wolven could heal an elf. Even a measly halfling could not withstand it." Gizmo drawled, rolling his eyes at the shock on the Mediator's face.
The Thyraxian hissed furiously, her mandibles flying alongside her sharp legs as she flew straight for the ignorant Crafter.
"Don't you dare use your silver coated words to disrespect my Agar, Tinker Mole scum!"
Gizmo couldn't help but scoff, dodging her feeble attempt to attack his eyes.
"She doesn't seem like she'll be your Lariat for much longer, Apollothea."
Gizmo's tone wasn't spiteful or cruel but logical, as if intrigued by the events either way. His gaze was poignant as if he had the ability to predict the future and had already accepted it. But there was no doubt on who he had decided to share that outcome with.
"There is one possibility. But you already know that don't you, Hawkins?"
The Mediators' head hung low, his eyes stung in frustration as he stared at his bloodstained hands. He blinked, his hands glowing like fire as his smoke brought him into the past. Once again, into a memory.
The fire bloomed from the young woman's fingertips, dancing over the dreary hospital bed as they tried to heal what had been hurt. All familiar faces to him but he was just a face in the empty room of blazingly white stone.
He had only seen the Opalace in pictures but the beauty of the smooth arkalite was nothing compared to the intricate display going on around them. The Fire Trait flew like fireworks, interlocking circles of light like halos of hope and endless fury.
The exertion on the Nocturian woman's face was enough to fuel a thousand lifetimes, her vision blurring at the sight of the overly pristine room. Her apprentice knelt beside her, solemn and contrite with her emotions concealed behind more than a mask as she clutched the young girls hand tightly.
Hawkins could've sworn the sickly girl was a mirror image of Mantis with far more grievous injuries. She was the same age, tall and willowy but the burns covering her arms and torso were a macabre reminder that not even a Traited could survive such an ordeal. She had been struck by lightning.
Her face was a charred, molten mix of burnt skin and peeling wounds, her breath barely visible from her badly exposed throat. Within the twisted metal of her emerald chestplate he could vaguely see the outline of a brazen thunderbird being marred by its own creation. She was from Tarragon.
The helix of flame stretched and transformed into a visage of a mighty phoenix, its wings burning with the promise of rebirth against the destructive nature of its mythical counterpart. The mood was stilted, the young girl attempting to communicate with the healer but she was too far into the healing process.
Steadily the wounds on her neck and hands began to reverse into smooth skin and bone as if she had never been hurt in the first place. Hawkins' eyes widened, his voice unable to confirm the three individuals he knew were in the room. But to them he was just a memory, a ghost reliving the past without context or consequence.
The phoenix glared at him from its unblinking eye as if seeing straight through him before dissipating back into its masters Trait, the flames spinning faster as the healing became more rapid. The injured Tarragon was now upright, talking away like nothing was wrong but failed to realise the stress that was causing the healer’s concentration.
Despite her apprentices' insistence, the Tarragon soldier refused to sit still, demanding the healer stop and that her injuries weren’t as grevious as she had claimed. A single command was all it took to make the healer’s Trait unravel.
The Tarragon’s eyes flashed green with power for the last time as she let out an unbridled scream, the intricate circles causing her body to wither away and send her body far back into her younger self, her soul barely enough to sustain the power she had once commanded so expertly.
The apprentice tried to wake her master, her hair flying out of her intricate braid as she tried to pull her out of the trance she was in. She had Drifted too far and her Trait had paid the price. Much like Gizmo had claimed about his own Craft, she had only destroyed what she had sought to restore.
The storm that had caused all this pain rumbled in the distance, a triumphant ostinato against a sobbing Traited who had just lost years off their life and in turn their sense of control. The apprentice clung to her own, much younger Traited with all her might as the Fire Traited healer with the Trait that could reverse everything and sat dumbfounded until another entered the room with a very familiar object. Oblivion.
The grimoire that blended into the walls around them ebbed and flowed like the luminous light surrounding the young Tarragon, her eyes glazing over as she spoke the final incantation to lead her into her permanent future.
Time never passed when Hawkins saw the fragments of memories stored within pages of lost history. He knew why Memoriam had shown what it had to, why it had refused to allow him to speak. The past the trio had experienced was erased by the white grimoire as if it couldn't exist in its perfect world.
"I am not using Memoriam." Hawkins said at last, his voice weak with the realisation of what he had just seen.
Gizmo’s false shock was a hollow annoyance in his heart, still pounding with the revelation of what a Fire Traited could accomplish instead of what he had assumed for so long.
"Excuse moi? Who says I was ever going to suggest such a thing?" He reprimanded, causing the Mediators head to ache with questions.
Hazard stalked around the back of the group, a silent threat to the Tinker Mole while providing the Mediator with the comfort of his glowing flame. He could feel the remnants of his Smoke Trait surrounding the edges of his grey grimoire, longing to be reunited with his Trollian Agar.
The Firestep wolves stance reminded Hawkins of Odi's calm demeanour but the dire situation Mantis was in brought Hawkins back to his senses. His knuckles sparked anxiously after what he saw could go wrong. But Mants' life was at stake.
"It's OK. Let the flame come to you." Hazard reminded him, his eyes glowing like amber.
Hawkins took a deep breath, stretching slowly before focusing on one thing at a time. The study session Odi had given about the Seven Principles drifted into his mind. He thought about how much they had all been through since the incident in Grimmordeals.
How she had trusted them with keeping her relationship private without lashing out. How she had confessed to her own past minutes before a battle yet moments later used her Trait in tandem with someone who used to be her enemy.
He smiled, his hands glowing from an amber aura to a cool grey tinge of stone, the blood congealing into a cohesive layer of scabs. Despite the elven's hostile nature, Hawkins knew how versatile her abilities were, be it Traited or Windspell.
He understood her reasoning for being so stubborn, having to fight not to be judged for her half elf status or her tentative relationship with Rin. Manis had a mental strength far beyond his own and could pick out any flaws or weakness in any conversation thanks to her blunt but realistic view on life. None of that had saved her from getting hurt.
He could've helped more to lessen the load if he had more control over his Dual Trait. Maybe Mantis could've had more Trait left had he done more with his Trait and Thea could've helped heal her.
Hawkins could feel his Trait dwindle, his anxiety struggling to keep up with the numerous injuries Mantis had received. The grey hue his Trait provided warped into a spluttering mess and Mantis' aura began to fade. It wasn't until he saw the faint outline of her soul did he realise his mistake.
"No!" Thea screamed, veering towards her Lariat with all her might but a pair of tale tale claws intervened.
Gizmo said nothing, holding the young Thyraxian back as she wrestled against him, demanding she be released. The Firestep wolf was close behind, flicking his tail dangerously at the disgusted Crafter.
Hazard's playful but direct threat was clear: 'if you don't comfort her, I'll kill you.' It was more than enough to make Gizmo immediately revert away from the hostage situation, allowing her to sob against his already matted fur.
Hawkins let out a staggered breath, focusing on her grimoire still intact but it's pages lessening by the minute. Basing his thought process on Hazard's way of dealing with his abilities wasn't going to work.
He was distracted, too focused on the memory healer's failure that he had already accepted his own. Hawkins glanced over Mantis' situation, ignoring the biggest issue of the Forecasters soul to find where to start again.
Her sky blue grimoire was dull and lifeless but continued to sift through page after page burning only a select few and leaving some intact. Only a few patches of her deathly pale skin were turning to ash but nothing grievous.
No missing limbs or organs, only a few discoloured fingers and the tips of her ears. There was no logical reason as to why her soul was being detached from her body but that didn't matter. Mantis couldn't die. Not yet.
His mind focused, his Trait gathered among his hands as it turned from smoke to glowing light once again. The Nocturians face flashed within his peripheral, her exertion turning to concentration much like his own as his Trait spiralled around Mantis.
The intricate helix he had seen became a much simpler spiral around her chest, his grey Trait changing from amber to a brilliant scarlet. Hawkins couldn't help but smile at the sight of his makeshift Fire Trait matching hers but still being different all on his own.
"Work on your own Traits terms." He muttered, spreading his Trait to cover the rest of Mantis' body.
The dried blood that had healed a little too quickly, gradually came together to knit back into her grimoire to repair the burnt pages. Her breath became a little less ragged, but her broken ribs were constricting her Trait from flowing naturally into her lungs.
If Mantis hadn't been an elf then there was no way restoring a grimoire would've helped her survive much longer. But he knew from Memoriam's guidance that waking up a Traited before she was fully healed was a bad idea. He would work to reignite her intricate Casting last and allow the grimoire to remain dormant. After all, grimoires was what he knew best.
Hawkins didn't know whether it was the stifling heat, the numbing sensation in his hands or the memory of Mantis' conjuring a steady breeze to help them when it was warm but the ember of flame became even brighter.
His Fire Trait whirred and began to ebb and flow along Mantis' unconscious form, healing her injured head and began repairing her ribs as if they had never been hurt in the first place. It covered every surface area it could like a sudden flash fire igniting into a dull thrum of healing warmth.
The flames burned bright and strong, it's comforting glow luring him into a trance-like state long after Mantis was completely healed. If it wasn't for the sharp tugging of Hazard pulling at his shirt and setting it on fire he probably would've done the same thing as that healer did. But without that memory, he'd had no idea how to heal.
"You did good, Hawkins. Now rest or I'll bite you again." Hazard said, growling just in case he didn't oblige.
Hawkins gave him a tired smile, his knees aching as he sat back and drew his knees up towards himself. His back ached but the sight of Mantis healthy grimoire and the steady rise and fall of her chest was more than worth it.
"Hawky!"
Before he could even recognise the shape of a sharp object zooming over towards him Thea had already attached himself to the closest part she could reach. His head. Thankfully, the overdramatic Thyraxian had sheathed her pincers for a kinder 'attack hug.'
"Hey, hey it's OK. She's OK now. You don't need to worry anymore." Hawkins comforted her, wincing as she pried herself away from his face.
"But...but she isn't awake. I should've healed her but I panicked and I'm sorry."
He smiled sympathetically, letting her rest on his shoulder, her insect wings drooping without her partner beside her.
"Well, I guess my advice can wait. Au revoir." Gizmo said hurriedly with a wave of his claw.
Hawkins had barely realised how the Tinker Mole had drifted to the edge of the group and intended to scarper. But Gizmo had failed to realise a beady eyed wolf grabbing him by the scruff of his overly immaculate shirt collar.
The Crafter let out an unflattering squeal, trapped by the Firestep wolf and his burning jaws. Hawkins couldn't help but laugh as Gizmo was unceremoniously dumped next to a broken slab of rock cornering him in with Hazard and Mantis herself.
"If you have something to say, whelp then you will wait until our leader says so."
Hazard's gaze fell upon him, stunning Hawkins into silence for several seconds once his brain caught up with his train of thought and realised he wasn't talking about Mantis. Thea chirped happily in celebration, deciding to do a full lap around them all before returning to coddle her. Hawkins sighed, he was simply too tired to argue.
"You followed us because you had something to say. I don't know when Mantis will wake up but I'm too tired to deal with any of your lies, Tinker Mole. If she doesn't wake up by the time Hazard gets hungry enough to want to eat you, then we'll let you spin your stories."
Thea giggled for the first time that day, easing a little of the tension in the Mediator's shoulders before Hazard let out a derisive snort of his own. Giving Hawkins a wolfish grin, the Firestep wolf flumped down right ontop of the already squished Tinker Mole, ignoring Gizmo's garbled protests all the while.
"Very well, Mediator. I will be sure to keep you to your word."
Hazard grunted, already curling up with his ears upright and eyes clear and alert. It seemed he was on watch duty for a while. Hawkins yawned, satisfied he could keep his guard down and eyed his discarded jacket still covered in elven blood.
He hated to leave it behind but Hazard's flame was more than enough to keep them warm. Thea was busy murmuring to Mantis to help her feel better and Hawkins resigned himself to resting his head on his arms. He hoped his whirring thoughts would settle but he doubted it.
Hawkins couldn't help but compare Mantis' injuries to the crushed armour on the Tarragons chest, how it restricted her breathing to one side but still provided her with enough air to stay conscious. Only Air Traited were able to achieve such a thing and the green eyes of the Tarragon were hauntingly familiar.
The way she brazenly stopped the healer from doing her job, the glint in her eyes as she used her power on them and the look of horror on her face as she was attacked by a grimoire she had never seen before.
There was only one person he knew with the same personality, Trait and lineage to combat such a powerful Fire Trait. The shock almost made him lose control of his meager lunch, the Tarragon soldier becoming clearer in his mind as he pictured her a little younger and realised what the white grimoire had done to her eyesight.
Somehow, some way Memoriam had shown him a memory of Cricket.