Azrael raced towards the village, dreading the worst as he neared the village. The air was visibly tinged white-gray, while flakes of ash gently raining down in a mockery of snow. It was hard to breath, the smell of smoke overpowering all else, filling his lungs and leaving him short of breath. From ahead shouts and screams could be heard, carrying across the lake, only to be lost amongst the many trees of the forest. Azrael redoubled his pace, weary though he was. Behind him James stalwartly followed.

There was a red glow above the tree line and red gold sparks raced towards the heavens like angry bees. Struggling to breath Azrael gave a final push, breaking into the land that had been cleared for fields around the village.

It was chaos, but at least it wasn’t hell. Not quite, anyways.

Some trees were ablaze, their leaves dried by the long summer, burning with hungry flames. Sparks floated down into underbrush, igniting similarly dry bushes and a carpet of early autumn leaves. The village was mostly intact, though the air was stiflingly hot and hard to breath.

Some Bulla were loose in the village, trampling fields, fences and anyone who stood in the way of their panic. Out in the fields villagers were digging firebreaks with hoes and spades and picks, ruining almost harvestable crops in the hope of saving their village. Behind them, in the distance, great billows of white-gray smoke rose up to smother the heavens, blocking out the sky and making the air hard to breath.

The plains were on fire. The entire tree line to the west was awash with a red glow, blazing sparks dancing in columns of hot air, which carried flame and smoke upwards.

James crashed through the tree line behind him, collapsing onto his knees. Azrael left him an strode towards the village. Any other situation and he might have allowed himself to feel some smugness as seeing James’ infallible stoicism to hardship falter.

In the village men women and children were all shouting to be heard above the terrible crackling of fire. Some had cloth bound over their mouths and noses, others carried buckets, pots or bowls of water – anything that could carry water, in the slim hope of dowsing stray flames. They splashed the forest, the fields, their houses and in some cases each other.

As much as Azrael wished to check on Elana, he realised that the priority at this moment was protecting the village and all its inhabitants. Crossing the fields, Azrael walked towards the largest of outbreaks, one which threatened to jump from the forest to one of the nearby houses, simply due to its sheer size. As he neared it, he reached into his meagre mana pool, drawing out and shaping his mana. He felt for the feel of water mana, letting his mana flow between his hands as he shaped it.

He frowned as he neared the blaze, sidestepping a villager that had just emptied a bucket of water onto the flames. Not only was it hot here, his clothes visibly heating up, but the bucket had barely made a dent in the total flames. Still, he had to try.

With a flick of his wrists he cast out his mana, like a fisherman casting a net.

“Dowse, drown, dampen, extinguish – [Water Net]”

Thick tendrils of [Water] flew out, seeking to cover and extinguish the blistering flames. Some mana flowed into his spell from the surroundings, but barely bolstered his already underpowered spell. Whether it was due to him lacking conviction when [Chanting], or the lack of ambient water mana in the currently fire mana saturated environment, he wasn’t sure.

As it was, the majority of the [Water] was evaporated by the heat of the flames, before it landed. There was a massive hiss and sizzle, with steam exploding upwards. The spell had been far from enough to put out the blaze, but it was enough to lower the amount from threatening to merely concerning.

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At another section of the field, James was also trying to help. Frost covered a part of the field, spreading out and climbing across burning leaves, bushes and trees. However, even as he watched Azrael saw the edges melt, turning into steam. The fire was slowed, but not overly impeded – merely delayed. James also seemed to realise the problem, changing tactic.

Moving his massive blade to one side, Azrael watched as James’ sword gained a light blue aura. With a mighty bellow James swung his sword, in a massive feat of impossible strength. A crescent of blue energy burst out, drawing an arc that flew through the forest. Wind roared in its after wake and trees cracked as they were suddenly bisected. Fire was whipped out of existence by the pure force of the wind and a moment later five trees toppled over.

There was a small cheer and the defenders rushed to put out flames in other areas. Only Azrael and James were left to watch as the sparks that had been thrown up with the sudden wind came falling back down, landing on the extinguished trees and coaxing new flames. It was an uphill battle, without end or victory in sight. Looking at the rest of the village Azrael considered calling everyone to abandon the village and head for the lake. His side of the lake was still free of flames. Some things would be lost, but the people would be safe.

But, even as he watched, he saw the villagers struggle to protect their village. They doused their houses, called to their fellow villagemen and rushed about the fields. Azrael had a brief moment of realisation as he watched. It was their village. Their fields. If they retreated he wouldn’t lose anything. They would lose everything.

A ‘boom’ exploded to his left and Azrael spun around startled, watching as chunks of sod, rock and dirt flew into the flames at the forest’s edge – smothering them. James’ blade was once more glowing light blue, a crater at his feet. With a second swing more earth went flying, extending the crater. No, Azrael realised as he watched James and the villagers in the fields working together. Not crater – firebreak. There was no way to stop flames from jumping, but they could stop the fire from spreading along the ground. By now all the houses were properly doused, their wood and thatch rooves soaked and steaming in the ever increasing heat.

Azrael wiped away sweat and turned to the ground in front of him. He was out of mana and there were no hoes. Still, he turned to the best tool he currently had – magic.

Extending out a tiny tendril of all the mana that he could muster, he sent it into the ground before him, letting [Mana Sight] fill his vision. He often had it toggled on, but held at extremely low strength. Now, he let it fill his vision properly.

Fire mana was dominant, the trees blazing with it, while tendrils of fire mana danced through the air, heating up the surrounds. Light mana clung closely to the fire mana, but gently suffused everything and eroding the darkness that nightfall was bringing with it. Azrael ignored it, just as he ignored the fleeting water mana in the forest’s trees. All he focused on was the earth mana in the ground.

He manoeuvred his tendril of mana through it, feeling it, sensing how it bound itself with the dirt, rocks and soil. Just like fire was more than fire mana and light was more than simply light mana, all the earth below him was more than simply earth mana. But despite all that they were linked – inexplicably bound together. He had seen it when Elena had used her [Shadow Cloak]. The shadow mana hadn’t created shadows, it had drawn them to her, cloaking her in them.

Azrael continued searching, feeling a growing pressure. He wiped sweat out of his eyes, moved his sweat soaked hair away from his face and briefly frowned hen he touched his face. It was almost too hot too touch. Around him others worked. Someone hurried past, dousing him in water and he watched steam come off his clothes. Elsewhere, James swung his blade again, extending the firebreak and smothering the flames with dirt. People shouted, cussed and dug – Together.

Something clicked. Azrael wouldn’t have been able to say what it was, but there was some fundamental change in how he viewed mana, even if it was at a subconscious level. A blue screen flicked into existence, dismissed before he even looked at it. No time. With a flex of his mana and an almost physical heave with his muscles he manipulated a chunk of earth far larger than his mana should have allowed him. With a grunt he ripped it free, forcing it towards the forest. His control was crude, but with great satisfaction he watched it rip itself out of the earth, building a wall against the flames and leaving behind a hollowed-out ditch for the firebreak. Sinking in another tendril of barely recovered mana Azrael repeated the process.

For the rest of the night Azrael and the others toiled amidst blazing flames and night-spun darkness.

When dawn came, Azrael found himself atop of a partially intact wall, his voice ringing across the mostly intact village with conviction.

“I will SLAY THE DRAGON!!!”