Emil

Crash!

The craggy earth stabbed into his side as Emil slammed into the ground, rolling—his body entangled with the Exalted.

He tried to grapple the Exalted’s arms when a silver glint suddenly flashed from below him. He tossed his head back. The arm of the Exalted blew by above his eyes in a wide crescent, narrowly missing a direct strike. Sensing danger, Emil jumped back in retreat.

The Exalted slowly rose to his feet, his eyes glaring with murderous intent. Emil brushed the side of his chin. His fingertips were briefly bathed in warm blood before being washed away by the chilly rain.

Great, another scar on the jaws.

He was isolated with Aois Nua’s Exalted, a distance away from where the main battle was taking place. After eliminating the arbalists, Emil returned to help his Nostra companions. When he saw the Exalted in action, he immediately charged into its blind spot. With his body fortified by mana, he slammed him through the brittle walls on the side of the road. They landed in the ruins of a compound.

The area was nearly pitch-black. Only the lantern hooked onto his belt provided the dimmest of illuminations. In the background behind his foe, he could make out the faint outlines of an abandoned building. Light also bounced off the Exalted’s limbs, glimmering with a metallic luster.

From what I can tell, his Gift allows him to encase parts of his body in steel. But is it just the skin that’s fortified or does it also include the flesh and bone as well?

He considered his options. The Exalted’s Gift was formidable in close combat, but he should be fine as long as he avoided a direct hit.

If only his skin is metallized, I can grapple his arms and then try to break the bones and joints. But if it’s the entire limb—

He had no time to think. The Exalted suddenly lunged with a wide jab. Emil stepped beneath the arc of his swing. Sensing an opportunity, he charged in to grab the outstretched arm.

His instincts screamed. Emil immediately abandoned the attack and dove to the ground. Metal sliced the air above him. The Exalted had spun with the momentum of his jab to unleash a vicious kick.

Emil struggled onto his feet—encumbered by the muddy earth. The Exalted was on him immediately, flaying away with his metallized arms. Emil managed to brandish his machete at the last moment, deflecting the oncoming blows in desperation. Sparks flew, instantly snuffed out by the rain. The clash of cold steel resounded. He was being pushed back, his machete rapidly degrading under the relentless pressure.

I have to create an opening!

Clank!

The machete finally fractured. Emil leaned back to evade the next attack as he unhooked the lantern on his belt. The lantern fell, its glass enclosure shattering as it slammed against the ruined earth. Exposed to the elements, the candle wick was instantly snuffed out by the rain.

Darkness swallowed the vicinity.

Suddenly engulfed by night, the Exalted froze.

Emil seized the opening. Mana gathered in his hands. He targeted the Exalted’s head, intent at smashing his skull into smithereens.

An ominous clank echoed over the rain. Emil’s hand collided against something hard. He felt the screech of his bones rattling from the recoil. Throbbing. Under a distant flicker of light from where the rest of Nostra was fighting, he could see the Exalted’s head had morphed into steel.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Pain exploded from his upper body. The thing he knew, Emil found himself airborne. Agony blazed as his back torn through a wall.

“Ngh!” he groaned, landing hard against the ground. His lungs burned, mouth heaving blood as he gasped for air. His ears rang. His head was trembling, dazed—his vision blurring in and out of focus. His surroundings were unfamiliar, but he noticed the rain was absent. He must have been flung inside the abandoned building.

He pressed a shaky hand across his chest, trying to assess the damage. The Exalted struck him with a blast of mana. Emil instinctively reinforced his body with Mana Arts before the attack landed. The reaction saved his life. But even so, he was still left in a wretched state.

Well, this is fucking terrible.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Footsteps echoed nearby. Rain pattered above. The Aois Nua Exalted entered his blurry view. The side of his face was disfigured—blood dripping from the spot where Emil had struck him earlier.

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“I knew you would be alive,” the Exalted hissed. His words came out slurred due to the dislocation of his jaws. “To think Nostra had another Exalted besides Decim. I cannot let this be.”

Great, now I’m being hunted down.

Emil staggered onto his feet. He narrowed his eyes, trying to steady his flickering vision. The damage to his body was acceptable. Bad, but not debilitating. Not the worse he’s ever experienced.

In the background, the Dannan clocktower suddenly blared. The deep brass overtones signaled the advent of midnight. Their mission as a decoy for Decim’s delivery was complete. Baer and Caiside should be ordering their men to abandon the wagon and retreat.

Why do I get the feeling that they won’t come for me? Emil thought with a self-deprecating smile. Not that they’ll be of much use against an Exalted, but hey, it’s the sentiment that counts.

He wiped off the blood stained at the edge of his mouth. He heaved—the dry rasps agonizing as his lungs burned.

I guess I don’t need to hide this anymore.

Emil tossed aside his rain-soaked cloak. Mana from his Azurite pendant raged, transforming into a torturous heat that rippled through his body. He grimaced. The sensation made his skin crawl.

Memories of that incident flashed in his head. The sight of his friends being devoured by the unholy blaze. Those same insidious flames now gathered inside of him.

The image ate at his heart.

I hate using this. Steam rose from his skin—the rain rapidly evaporating by the rising temperatures. But I can’t win without it.

“Bruno, Dale, Esmeralda,” he recited the names of his dead friends.

Emil wailed. The visceral cry echoed across the abandoned building. Grief quickly twisted into fury. His body was suddenly set ablaze. Flames bloomed, engulfing his limbs and torso as if his flesh had become the tinder for the all-consuming blaze.

The Exalted charged in.

“Burn!” Emil screamed. His guttural rage filled the air, like a pained howl from a wounded beast. The flames burst from his body. Like humanoid appendages, they flew at the Exalted.

His opponent ducked and weaved, desperately trying to escape the flame’s grasp. A few tendrils of fire caught onto the edges of the Exalted’s clothes. Instantly, the flames erupted—blossoming into a hellish conflagration bent on consuming its target. The Exalted pressed forward, undaunted. He dug into the earth and lunged. His body shot forward like a missile. His arms were encased in steel, stretched outwards, aimed at Emil’s neck.

Emil stomped the ground. The space before him cackled with energy as the ambient temperature climbed rapidly. The air spontaneously ignited, right as the Exalted arrived.

Boom!

The entire building shook from the explosion. The concussive force torn apart the weakened ceiling. Rain poured in, extinguishing the scorched earth.

Emil stared at the remnants of his foe. The Exalted laid still on the ground. Steam rose from its burnt corpse, scorched beyond recognition.

…Dammit. Emil slumped onto the floor. The rain came down endlessly. The flames devouring his body slowly vanished.

***

A distant memory.

“Control it!”

Flames raged in his field of view. The temperature relentlessly swelled. As if a million ants had crawled onto his body, the flames burned—gnawing away at his skin and flesh with a voracious appetite.

“Control it, you fool!”

Emil screamed. Pain exploded from every pore of his body. Like a rampaging beast, the flames refused to be tamed, continuously burning with an undying vengeance, desperate to devour everything in its wake.

How?!

He wanted to protest, but he was occupied by the overwhelming desire to scream. He wanted to run, but he had nowhere to go. He wanted to kill the interlopers that defiled his body, bestowed upon him this curse, held his friends hostage, and turned him into the disgusting monster that killed everyone.

But he was too weak.

It would be a meaningless protest. Right now, he was nothing. He had no power. No allies. No plans. He would only be lashing out to rid himself of this nasty fury and discomfort. Like a child throwing a tantrum.

No, he needed to store these emotions. Use it as fuel. If he wanted revenge, then he should have sought to make it more systemic. More intentional. More complete.

But the witch robbed him even of the ability to think.

Emil could no longer feel the sensations of his body. Like a disembodied mind, he stood there, bathed in unholy flame that ate his body.

Then he saw white.

***

I don’t recognize this ceiling.

Emil opened his eyes to a small, dilapidated room. The low hanging ceiling above looked like patchwork, filled with an odd pattern of fresh and rotten planks. Rain continued to lightly patter against the rooftop. The dim candlelight nearby and the absence of metalwork clanking in the background suggested that it was still night.

I’m probably somewhere still in the slums.

He sifted through his memories, trying to reconcile with how he ended up here. He remembered limping out of the ruins of the abandoned building amidst the pouring rain. The battle between Nostra and Aois Nua had already ended—the roads filled with death from the aftermath of the encounter. Emil wasted no time and ran. Undoubtedly, Aois Nua would have been searching for their missing Exalted.

What happened after that was a blur.

Alarms rose in his head at the blanks in his memory. Emil tried sitting up—only to be met with an excruciating pain tearing apart his body.

He clicked his tongue and laid back down, wincing at the agony. His head suddenly pounded with a raging headache. He lightly tapped his chest—a dull sting radiated at the point of contact. Burns. The costs of using his Gift.

This never gets easier to manage, Emil lamented.

His ascension into an Exalted was an unusual one. Unlike most Exalted, who either possessed a Gift at birth or underwent a natural Awakening, he obtained his via a transplant. He was the product of an unholy experiment that brought him a second chance at life. And while it granted him a Gift, his body was a vessel ill-suited for his new powers.

The result was an Exalted who could not withstand the power of his own Gift. The flames he conjured consumed his flesh. No matter how much the witch trained him to control it, he could never fully eliminate the side-effects.

Footsteps suddenly echoed from outside the room.

Emil moved his right arm down the length of his body. A knife concealed along his thigh was still there. He hovered his hand over the handle and closed his eyes, pretending to be unconscious.

Van did tell me that there’s been a rise in demand for organs on the black market.

He smirked at the dark thought. If the person who brought him here had any ill intentions, he must aim to kill. His injuries and fatigue were too excessive for him to hold back.

Let’s hope they’re friendly.

The door creaked open.