Murtoa of Lakia is but a human warrior who, by some crossing of fate, chance, and good fortune, became a near mythical slayer of the worst monsters of the world. Being a human, though, is but a natural thing. And, like any other human, Murtoa of Lakia fell ill to a disease referred to as the ‘demon ash plague’. Not all of the details are known about this fast-moving and dangerous disease, but his companions believe they’ve found a cure in a small oasis clearing in the great forest.
Murtoa is not skeptical of this, but he is wary of the fairy sage, just as his friends are. However, he has faced much more terrible dangers and lived to tell the tale. Still, he notices when Lykha suddenly stops what she’s doing. She seems to be having a conversation with someone, but no one is there. After a moment, she holds her hand out and drops the vial she was just filling. He never heard anything, so it’s no surprise that Gyrryth didn’t notice. And, Murtoa only suspects that they haven’t yet been engaged because he didn’t look directly at Lykha. She struggles enough with confidence as it is, so he didn’t want her to sense that she needed looked after, but in this case, it’s fortunate that he noticed. Without prompting, the young fairy heads towards the entrance to the foggy area, where illusions of one’s own thoughts is certainly not the only risk.
Mury stands up, saying to Gyrryth, “Gyrryth, do you think you could find Coco?”
Gyrryth nods, looking up in surprise, “I should have no trouble. I can merely follow the smell of alcohol if nothing else.”
The human warrior scoffs, but adds, “Do that, quickly. Lykha just flew back into the fog.”
“What? Do you think she’s looking for Coco?”
“I don’t know, but given the circumstances, we need to figure it out quickly. I’ll try to catch up to Lykha. Find Coco and Maerin and make sure they’re okay.”
“I shall.”
Murtoa jogs after the glow fading into the fog representing Lykha. It pains his leg greatly, and he nearly falls a couple times, but he is no stranger to pain. He’s heard tales of people who enjoy suffering pain, and often he has wondered if it would make his job any easier.
Regardless, he does his best to follow the path that Lykha flies. She seems to be searching the fog, though not very effectively. She gets caught in circles more than once, and seems to be disoriented.
Of course, Murtoa’s own visions and voices plague him as well, but they are almost silent to him. He has tried to let go of that fateful day, to no avail. His life seems to have become full of fateful days since then.
That will never stand in his way, though. Simple fear and a selfish desire to survive left him with no friends at the seeming far end of the world and with very little will to live. He will never succumb to either again. And so, his visions have no power over him, even if they haunt his mind endlessly.
Murtoa only barely glimpses Lykha being hit by a spark, and the young fairy falls into the arms of another. Murtoa drops to a kneel behind a small plant. Thankfully, the elder fairy didn’t notice him, and she carries Lykha in through a secret passage in the wall, slowly sinking out of sight. As soon as it vanishes, the warrior approaches. He is able to find the opening, but he can’t find a way to open it.
Magic? Most likely. Yanari is no fool, but I can’t help but wonder if this place was built by her.
He taps softly on the wall, listening.
No good. The tunnel sounds too narrow for me to fit, anyways.
He looks around.
She seemed to descend… Beneath us? Yes, even a hidden chamber would need ventilation. Up or on this level?
He looks in the direction of the lower entrance, where they came in originally. Though the fog is thick and stifling, he kept his bearings, even when Lykha was spinning in circles.
The bodies… Could they be…?
Murtoa has trusted his gut on countless occasions. It’s saved his life from starvation, found exits to labyrinthine caves, protected him from ambushes, and it caused him to look up when no one else did all those years ago. He’s learned to trust his gut mainly because it’s cautious, and through that caution, he has survived and helped many others.
Now, his gut is saying the bodies are in fact a clue.
He moves as quickly as his injury and lack of energy will allow, readying the kusarigama he obtained while fighting the paladins. Its purpose was never to be a grappling hook or rappelling gear, but that’s what it’s about to be used for.
Murtoa of Lakia wastes no time looping a quick-but-secure knot around a particularly robust-looking tree, gripping the other end so he can literally step out over the cliff to look at the cliff with more of an angle.
It isn’t much, but again, his instincts are telling him he’s right. There’s a small difference in the curvature of the cliff that he can see, and it is less than half way down the cliff face.
Of course, that means, if he misses his target, he’s joining the bodies below.
Murtoa takes calculated risks every time he faces a colossus. What he doesn’t usually tell anyone, especially his friends, is that even his calculations rarely look truly promising. It’s the least reckless he can be at a job that requires a high degree of recklessness.
And today, the monster he apparently will be fighting is much smaller than all of the others.
He waits just long enough for Coco and Gyrryth to see him, and he coughs before calling out, “I’m going down! Don’t ask! If I make it, I’ll try to find another path!”
Coco starts to call out to him, but he releases the kusarigama, sliding down the near-vertical cliff-face towards his one hope.
And, to his deepest gratitude, he was right. Murtoa bides his time as he slides closer, hooking his fingers and swinging his legs as the drop so that his momentum steers him that tiny bit inwards towards the cliff. He smashes through a window and finds himself in a lavish-looking domicile built into the cliff.
***
Coco screams at Mury as he disappears down the cliff face, “MURY!” She runs to the cliff, stopped by Gyrryth’s powerful grip. In spite of his rightful caution, though, the drakyk spellshot holds the teen so both can peer over the cliff to observe the fate of their daring friend. And, thankfully, Murtoa is able to snag something with his hand and swing inwards, disappearing into something in the cliff face rather than joining a handful of corpses on the ground far below.
Coco shouts, “Lemme go, Gyrryth! I’m goin’ too!”
Maerin is the one to retort, “You’re dumber than Murmur if you think YOU can do that.”
Gyrryth is more polite, but he agrees, “There’s no telling for certain where he ended up. Come, I shall attempt to scent-trace a different-...”
A shrill roar fills the air, piercing the sky with the call of what could only be compared to a banshee of myth. While the specific tonalities of the roar are discomfitingly familiar, its sheer volume and depth is much grander, indicating a creature of much greater size.
And, bursting from the top of the small mountain they’re on is a colossal monster born of nightmares.
Proving that colossi are not only living things, but also not the most terrifying thing in existence, this creature combines the intimidating size and power of an avian colossus with the nightmarish threat of doom surrounding the demon ash plague.
Possessing many of the traits of a nightenmael, the colossus appears to be a gigantic bird. However, it has many dissimilarities from a nightenmael other than about a fifth of the size. The avian seems to be smoking, and not in the way the wolf, ostrich, and stag were shedding spores or ‘ash’ of the plague. This smoke has a burning ember beneath it, which occasionally flares in puffs that seem to harm itself, like it just crawled out of fire and is trying to gather its bearings. Like those other creatures, though, this one seems monstrous, if not outright demonic, and it stalks up the mountain with murderous intent. Its feathers and skin are sloughing off or shedding in wisps of ash, and even some of the wisps flare with flames.
The monster exhales deeply, causing fire to swirl from its beak, and it pants as it stumbles.
Coco asks slowly, “What… is tha’?”
Maerin shakes her head, saying with fear creeping into her voice, “I-I hope a fog illusion.”
Gyrryth draws his void pistols, saying coldly, “I fear not. And, if the legends are to be believed, I think… it’s the mighty phoenix.”
“THAT thing is a phoenix?” asks Maerin skeptically as the monster roars again, causing embers and ash to spread.
Gyrryth nods, “It seems to bear resemblance to the legends.”
“Wha’s a phoenix!?” shouts Coco. She readies her slinger, almost taking a step backwards but halting when she feels nothing beneath her heel.
Gyrryth replies as it cocks its head, “According to legend, a bird born of fire and reborn from ashes. It’s supposed to be a symbol of immortality.”
“Looks like a symbol of death to me,” retorts Maerin as she unscrews the cap to her flask.
Coco asks, “C-Can we kill it?”
The phoenix cocks its head slightly differently, pivoting to look directly at them. Gyrryth replies coldly, “I suggest we determine that with action.” He hisses the evil-sounding spell of his void pistols, firing the terrifying bolts of pitch black darkness as the phoenix inhales once more.
Though both pistols hit, the phoenix is only stumbled briefly by their terrifying power.
Gyrryth urges as Maerin chugs what remains of her flask, “Now is not the time to drink, Mature one!”
“FAIRY PISS!” shouts the inebriated fairy. “THAT’S THE SECRET INGREDIENT, ‘KAY!? AN’, I DAMN NEAR WASTED A BUNCH, SO SHUT UP AN’ KEEP US ALIVE SO’S I CAN MAKE SOME MORE O’ THIS CRAP!” Gyrryth and Coco share a glance of horror, but the infected phoenix snarling at them snaps them quickly out of it. Gyrryth shoves Coco down the path they ascended by, shouting, “Go! Run!” He swaps to his fire pistols, attempting to ignite the ash. He knows they won’t be very effective, but he’s trying to preserve his newest pistols, by all appearances.
Coco suddenly whirls into a kneel, almost causing Gyrryth to trip, but she aims her slinger up the slope, waiting only a moment as the phoenix lumbers into view. She fires, instantly returning to a full run as the canister hits the phoenix. Gyrryth glances over his shoulder as he joins her, having been only a second from scolding her. The phoenix shrieks in pain as it stumbles to the side…
…Straight for the cliff.
Gyrryth praises, “Well done, Coco!”
“Aye! Bu’ I doubt tha’ll do’im! Ye go’ a plan w’ Mury chasin’ Tricksie!?”
“Not yet, but perhaps one will reveal itself.”
Maerin pokes her head out as she wrestles with the startled blaze panda in Coco’s bag, “Wha’ if we bury it?”
The two look at their drunken companion as they run, their faces full of skepticism.
She retorts, “Whaaaat!? I’m surious! *Hic!* Ye’ think a birdie can fly wi’ a pile’o’dirt on him!?”
Coco shouts, “WHERE will we get DIRT!?”
Maerin scratches her chin, thinking. She perks up. “Oh! What about rocks!”
Coco growls in disgust, but Gyrryth looks up, following Maerin’s finger pointing up. He replies, “Mmmm… That could work.”
“Ye be a crazy lot’o fools!”
“No, Maerin’s right. If we can lure the beast into one of these tunnels, perhaps we can collapse them on it and bury it within. Certainly the best plan we have at present, no?”
Coco’s hostility dissolves, “Oh… Aye, tha’ could work.”
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“HA! I’m better at this than M-M-*hic!*Murtoka of Lai-i-a, hisself!”
The teenage techromancer sighs. “He’s no’ here righ’ now. How’s tha’ make sense?”
Maerin stares at Coco with a surprised look, glancing around. “W-... Where’s Murmur?”
Gyrryth and Coco both do their best to stay focused. Maerin is helping, even if she’s losing sense with every passing minute the alcohol seeps into her blood.
Coco retorts, “Nevermind. Jus’ gimme anotha’o’them fairy specials.”
Maerin grins, not fitting the situation, but understanding her role immediately. “Aye! Comin’ right up!” She hands one of the jars to Coco, who loads it into her slinger. The mature fairy then says, “I go’s one more o’ those, I’m workin’ on brewin’ anotha!” She begins laughing, even as tears start to find her eyes with the reality sinking in.
Coco nods, “Aye! Do what’cha gotta!”
The three find the phoenix recovering where it landed on the ground. Its wing is broken and twisted at what would be a painful angle, while it shakes its head to recover.
Gyrryth offers as they size up their terrifying opponent, “If anyone has a better idea, now is the time.”
“I ain’t got no betta, but I do wanna ask… Ye sure my gol’water will’ne work, Maerin?”
“I’m not even sure why mine works!”
The three brace themselves as the phoenix rises to its feet, roaring once more and shedding embers and ash across the ground in a wide arc.
Gyrryth says to Coco, “Coco, get to the trunk winder and prepare to fire on the caverns. I will buy you time.”
The teen nods. “B-Be careful, Gyrryth.”
“You as well.” The drakyk spellshot flexes as he inspects the sword he still has. Zaermaa isn’t particularly special as swords go, but it is still a sword. It’s not something Gyrryth is very skilled with using, but thankfully, a monster with minimal cognitive function beyond ‘attack’ and ‘pursue’ will not be as likely to parry or dodge him.
And, Gyrryth only needs to buy some time and lure the monster into as much of a cavern as he can.
***
A fairy’s wish is the most powerful magic in the world, so it’s been said. But, it also comes with more than its fair share of burdens.
Watching one of the heaviest of such burdens take effect upon the granting of a wish is terrifying for a fairy, as it shows just how truly draining the act is, and seems that the only thing left to the fairy after is her newly damaged soul.
Yanari, a fairy sage who has lived many years, has spent a lifetime manipulating and forcing wishes out of fairies for her own gain. Though one would never guess by her appearance.
Lykha, the young fairy who fell into company with the famed colossus slayer, Murtoa of Lakia, just watched as Yanari manipulated the wish out of a teenage fairy to restore the sage’s youth to that of a teen, and then followed that ghoulish wish with an even worse one; the most powerful magic in the world spent on creature comforts of Yanari’s living space.
And, Lykha was forced to watch helplessly from the confines of a specially designed container meant to block her magic; a preview to what the wicked fairy sage has planned for her.
However, the very person Lykha was hoping to save appeared suddenly through a window on the cliffside hideaway’s outer face.
Now, the young fairy can continue to only watch as Murtoa clings to footing while the fairy sage laughs, firing off offensive spells with wanton abandon. She taunts, “Dear, dear, Murtoa of Lakia! Why would you ever attack little ol’ me!? I’m not seventy meters tall and destroying the world!”
Murtoa throws daggers as he stumbles, doing everything he can to use Yanari’s own decorations and equipment as protection from her spells. She doesn’t seem to care, destroying devices and statues without any regard, using fire, lightning, explosions, ice, and other spells. It becomes fairly clear that Yanari could very easily take him out, but she’s toying with him. She taunts further, “I’m but a humble little fairy! You’re supposed to protect people like me from the real monsters.”
Murtoa doesn’t usually give into banter. He’ll say something cold when he defeats her, because even though he doesn’t usually show it, Lykha knows that he’s as angry as he could possibly get right now, but tempered enough to keep his head in the fight. He lights and casts a smoke bomb, which buys him a broad cloud of cover.
However, Yanari merely hums in amusement. “I know more stories than most, Sir Knight. I know you are a master of deceit and distraction. I also know I’m safest out of your range.”
Lykha screams, continuing to pound on her jar. Her own blood stains the glass ahead of her. Her hands are burning, but she is desperate to do something to help. But, as before, Mury doesn’t even seem to know she’s there.
Suddenly her jar shakes when she kicks it, and she listens.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t her. The whole room seems to be quivering and tremoring, and several items fall and smash somewhere in the room as Yanari listens. She remarks, “Mmm… Right on cue. It sounds like my pet ran into your friends.”
Lykha ponders the fates of Gyrryth, Coco, and Maerin. According to legends, Murtoa of Lakia has slain dozens of colossi, which are the only creatures large enough to cause such a tremor. Gyrryth, Coco, Maerin, and Lykha have helped him kill nine or so, and virtually none of them without the legendary knight, with the exception of Gyrryth defeating a paestokker singlehandedly.
That said, the other three together are extremely intelligent, and they’ve all learned from every mission they’ve aided the hero on. They won’t go down without a fight. And, as long as they survive, Murtoa and Lykha can aid them after Yanari is dealt with.
BUT, Lykha is presently stuck in a container that makes her virtually useless. She presses her bleeding hands against the glass as she huffs in frustration. She’s holding back tears of anger and helpless desperation. Every time there’s a problem, she ends up being useless. She’s dead weight to her friends.
Yanari taunts Murtoa, “You know, it’s going to be a bit unfair taking Lykha’s wish if I kill you. Just lie down like a good human and take your medicine.” She throws a particularly powerful lightning bolt into the smoke, and a male voice cries out.
Lykha’s heart, pained and agonizing already, skips a beat. She searches desperately for any thought. Gruicelle granted her a more powerful healing spell, but she has to be in contact. She clenches her useless fists against the glass, staring helplessly at the crimson stains caused by her own red blood.
Even if I wanted to cast a spell, it wouldn’t work. She must’ve cast silence on me…
Once upon a time, simply seeing a drop of red on her palm from a pinprick was enough to make her sick. Now…
RED! But, will it work? What about the silence spell… No. I can hear myself. So why couldn’t the others hear me then?
She looks around.
Silence around the capsule? An area silence maybe? She must be able to use illusions, too. That would explain why no one else could see me. And… probably how she lured me to right where she wanted me. This is what I’ve got.
Lykha’s entire brain restarts as she realizes she’s been a complete fool. She completely forgot, and she was given it so recently.
The young fairy desperately digs in her small gear bag, retrieving a small vial, in which is a carefully transferred red powder. She also retrieves her notebook, quickly pulling the lid off of the vial. She takes a breath. “Please, grant me just a little more good luck…” She scatters the powder as broadly as she can, praying it’s enough. When the bailiff used the powder, he was coating the outside. Lykha is effectively lightly dusting the inside, and most of the powder is concentrating at the bottom. She has two more vials, so she can add the rest if the first try doesn’t work. She braces against the walls with her feet and back so she doesn’t fall, and she reads from her notebook. Hopefully, her interpretation of Mury’s phonetic syllables -which he undoubtedly asked to be turned into phonetic syllables- are the same as what he intended. Or, rather, are what they’re supposed to be.
She finishes the chant, and nothing happens. She takes a breath as the smoke clears, and Yanari taunts, “Oh, still able to crawl, Murtoa of Lakia? Perhaps you aren’t human after all…”
Lykha repeats the spell, changing one of the pronunciations for two separate ‘words’ to the fae pronunciations. She didn’t think of it, but she realizes the language was similar, but definitely not the old fae language.
Her heart starts to race when the powder begins to glow, and she finishes the spell with urgency.
She flubs one of the words though -she realizes it the instant it happens-, and she wipes her face. “Please, please, calm down Lykha.”
She chants the spell as quickly and carefully as she can, annunciating deliberately. The powder begins to glow again, and Yanari halts her airborne stalk in a wide arc around Murtoa to listen. She pivots in the air towards Lykha, frowning in disgust.
The glass shatters out the bottom of the capsule, sprinkling to the ground in a sparkling dance of light. Yanari remarks, “In all my years… Thank you. I’ll be more mindful of that next time.”
Lykha darts out of the jar, drawing the knife from her back. However she ended up in the jar, Yanari didn’t bother to take any of Lykha’s equipment. In any other circumstance, it wouldn’t have mattered, and it likely would have served either as a gesture of goodwill to make the manipulation easier, or as a method of inducing despair so that Lykha would be more likely to give up.
Whatever the reasoning, Lykha is the only one who can move quickly enough to actually avoid Yanari’s ranged magic, and her own magic will give her an edge even Mury doesn’t have. However, in a battle of magic alone, Yanari easily has the upper hand. And, in spite of now looking like she could be Lykha’s younger sister, she has many more years of experience dealing with fairies, assuming those two weren’t her first victims.
Lykha knows they’re hiding nearby. Seaevvi was too weak to run, and Yanari’s display of power startled them even further.
Lykha zips through the air, gripping the modified throwing knife like a sword as she avoids concussive blasts meant to knock her from the air without killing her. After all, she still has a wish that Yanari intends to extract, and a purple smoke that seems capable of bending a fairy to her will, if not outright hypnotising them. And, Lykha suspects it’s the latter.
The young fairy darts around a statue, shielding her head with the knife when it explodes. Thankfully, everything is essentially fairy-sized, making it much smaller and therefore, much lighter rubble to be pelted with.
Yanari calls out, “Give up, Lykha. If you grant my wish now, I’ll still cure your friend. I’ll even heal him for you. What do you say?”
“You’re a monster! How could you steal wishes from other fairies!?”
“HOW is quite easy. I’m sure you witnessed. And, ‘steal’ is such a cruel word. After all, a fairy must CHOOSE to grant the wish, right?”
“NO! I saw you hypnotise Seaevvi!”
“Don’t pretend like you care Lykha!” Yanari explodes the remainder of the statue, forcing Lykha to retreat the opposite way behind a bush as she tries to work her way towards the senior fairy. Yanari continues, “You know as well as anyone that fairies are pretentious, merciless, and privileged elitists, scowling down at the world from on high and casting their own from the heavens for merely exercising the greatest power in existence.”
“Not all fairies are like that!”
“No? But most are. Tell me, CHILD; have you ever wondered why Grandmother fairies never seem to vanish? They always seem to be the head of the village for everyone else’s lives. Can you blame me for doing the same?”
“Y-You’re lying!”
Yanari, using her illusion magic to sound like she was speaking from her original location, attempts to surprise Lykha by appearing around the plant. However, she finds a small electronic device that suddenly flashes, and she shrieks as she covers her eyes and retreats backwards. Lykha cries out as she races towards Yanari, attempting to slash the senior fairy.
However, Yanari shouts, “Tempest ward!” A sudden swirl of POWERFUL wind tumbles Lykha away from the aged fairy. She manages to catch herself in midair, but the sage follows up her spell with, “Gather at my hand and consume all light, bring darkness forth and make day become night!” A pitch black orb appears over Yanari’s hand, and she casts it out into the room. Every second it exists, the light fades from the world, including the glow from the fairies. Only the brightest point of light; an electronic device flashing, continues to be visible as the rest of the world fades into imperceptible darkness.
A spark causes the flasher to cease, and Lykha hovers silently away from her spot, moving slowly to prevent hurting herself if she runs into something. Yanari knows roughly where she was at, but she stays quiet to prevent being targeted while the room is dark.
Yanari calls out from the darkness, “Do you feel like you’re a good person, Lykha? Befriending these pathetic humans and the reptile? The ‘Zarea’ or whatever she calls herself? You bless them all with your presence and your cuteness, and they smile at you with gratitude.”
Lykha grits her teeth, trying her best to resist, but she can’t. Her emotions take over, and she cries out, “NO! That’s not true!” She narrowly avoids a fireball that is visible, and she darts under where it came from. She listens carefully. Yanari is using illusion magic to speak, so she won’t be where her voice is coming from. But, she might cast a spell that could give her away.
A metallic and soft ‘ting’ comes from across the room, and Lykha flinches. She holds her breath, lest she gasp at what she believes is Mury.
If it was, it doesn’t work, as Yanari says coldly, “I know that was you, Murtoa of Lakia. She’s somewhere nearer to me. I can smell her blood.”
Lykha tries to inhale softly through her nose, careful to remain silent. She can definitely smell her own blood as well, along with a few other things. She got some of the magic powder on her, which smells bitter and spicy. It could be why Yanari didn’t call it out, though. Perhaps she doesn’t know what it is.
Lykha quietly withdraws two of Maerin’s concoctions from her pouch. She’s not sure which ones they’ll be, but she knows they all stink. Though, she’s hoping for the teargas one. The young fairy rears her arm back to throw upwards as hard as she can, but pauses. She decides to throw it at the floor, hoping it could be mistaken as her dropping it and draw Yanari’s attention briefly.
The vial she released smashes, and a sudden glow of light illuminates, incinerating a swath of the floor in that direction. Lykha races towards the source, swinging her blade as quickly as she can. She huffs, and then gasps. She missed Yanari, but she followed it up with giving herself away. She quickly throws the other vial, still in her hand towards the next spark of light to appear, and electricity meets vial mid-way for a small bursting sound as Lykha darts away.
She notices the light of the world is starting to return, and she needs to find a hiding place.
Yanari starts coughing, and she angrily spits out, “You and your *cough!* filthy human tricks! Did your hero teach you, or the little arrogant idiot?” She continues coughing hoarsely, and Lykha silently thanks Maerin for being exactly who and what she is. Teargas is simple for the mature fairy to make, and she makes a lot of the liquid. It has to be vaporized somehow to be most effective, but can be an irritant alone.
Lykha grips her knife with a surge of pride and confidence.
That’s right. I’m not fighting like a fairy. I’m fighting like a group of monster-hunting adventurers. I need to be quick on my feet and resourceful. Also, Coco is definitely NOT an idiot.
The young fairy peeks around her cover behind Yanari’s bed, and she sees a disturbing sight. Though tears and mucus do little to aid the intimidation factor of a person’s face, it certainly doesn’t make it more pleasant. The teargas is doing its job, and Yanari spits inelegantly as she coughs, trying to clear the mucus from her mouth and throat, while she wipes her face with her arm.
The fairy sage, however, apparently had a lot more patience than it seemed. She growls out angrily, “I’ve had enough of this. I should make wish you to kill Murtoa, just to watch you cry, you pathetic little waif.” She flexes, and orbs of light appear around her. “You thought that was magic, I’ll show you magic!” Lykha cries out, “Mury!” She narrowly ducks behind her knife’s blade as Yanari’s magical power unleashes. Devastating beams of light tear through the room with foreboding hums, and shrieks and hisses wail from the walls and floor where the beams laser clean through the materials, leaving behind molten trails that smolder and smoke. Seaevvi’s younger sister cries out from across the room, while Seaevvi tries to calm her.
And, one of the beams hits the knife Lykha is holding. Within seconds, it becomes scorching hot, and it burns her hands, causing her to cry out. She drops the knife, but thankfully manages to catch it with the makeshift sling. She whimpers as she flies to new cover, nursing her hands. She chants, “Pixies come forth and make it right. Heal this wound with all your might!” She uses her healing spell on her own hands, lest she be unable to use them for the rest of the fight -which grows much shorter if she can’t fight-.
The best option the young, inexperienced fairy has is to end the fight before Yanari does.
***