At the elder's outburst, murmurs rippled through the narrow street as villagers began to emerge from nearby homes and shops, drawn by the scene and the elder’s cries. A small crowd gathered, their faces pale and stricken with fear as they took in the blood-streaked ground and the hollow-eyed children. Some women gasped, clutching their hands to their mouths, while others whispered frantically, casting wary glances at Henry. Just then, as if they were oil lit by a match, the entire crowd of dead men burst into flames.
“Who did this?” one man shouted, his voice quivering with panic. “What’s happening?”
A child’s wail pierced the air, and a young mother scooped her son into her arms, backing away as she pointed at Henry, her eyes wide with accusation.
“It’s him—he brought the darkness here! Look at his wand!”
Henry felt the crowd’s eyes on him, their suspicion growing, and he tightened his grip on his wand, heart pounding.
“W-what? Don’t you dare turn this around on me. I know what you’re doing down below the city.” He met the elder’s glare, though the crowd’s hostile murmurs sent a chill down his spine.
Elara, entirely unfazed by the rising tension, floated up beside him, her blood-smeared face and hands drawing horrified stares from those in the crowd. She flashed a mischievous grin, folding her arms with an almost mocking confidence.
“Oh, the esteemed elder is blaming my Henry? Really?” She feigned shock, placing a hand dramatically on her forehead, but her eyes danced with amusement. “Didn't you promise him freedom if he saved that poor child?”
The elder’s face twisted with rage, his voice low and trembling.
“This… creature is a trick, a foul spirit conjured by that man’s wand!”
Elara's eyes widened in mock offense. She zipped closer to the elder, circling him like a curious hummingbird.
“A trick? Me? Oh, elder, you wound me!” She pouted, but a sly smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I would never lie to these lovely people.” She glanced at the crowd, giving a playful wink. “Okay, maybe just a little fib here and there.” She giggled, then suddenly wrinkled her nose. “But you, Elder... I can smell deceit on you like rotten fish!” With a flourish, she produced a rotten fish seemingly out of thin air and tossed it at the old man.
The crowd stirred, a few murmurs of suspicion passing among them. Henry seized the moment, straightening and looking around, meeting the villagers’ eyes.
“I risked my life for Luka. And the elder promised me freedom in return.” His voice grew stronger as he spoke, emboldened by the crowd’s shifting attitudes. “Are we going to let him break that promise?”
A woman rushed forward, pulling Luka close to her. Her eyes flickered between Henry and the elder, doubt creeping into her expression.
“Luka, did he… did he really save you?”
Luka nodded fervently, his eyes wide with fear and defiance.
“He did, Mama. Henry saved me. The elder kidnapped me and took me to a dark place underground. And Jerem...” Luka’s voice broke. “Jerem disappeared down there, too. He never came back.”
Elara hovered just above Henry’s shoulder, flashing a wicked smile at the elder.
“Tsk, tsk, elder. Didn't anyone ever tell you—secrets kept underground always have a way of coming to the surface?” She leaned in, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper that everyone could hear. “Just like worms after a good rain...” She wriggled her fingers, and tiny, glowing worms materialized in the air, writhing before vanishing in puffs of glitter.
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The elder’s face paled, and his voice wavered as he pointed an accusing finger at Henry.
“Enough of this nonsense! Guards, seize him!”
But the guards hesitated, their eyes shifting from the elder to Henry, and then to Elara, who was now lazily floating upside down, humming a tune.
“Oh, please,” Elara cooed, rolling her eyes as she flipped right-side up. She gave Henry a sideways look and a cheeky thumbs-up. “You're just making a scene now. And you, Henry—way to hold your ground! Not too shabby for a mortal.”
Henry felt his pulse racing as the elder charged, radiating a terrifying heat that made the air shimmer around him. Henry raised his wand, focusing on the Flighter as it materialized—a grotesque, misty creature with a gaping maw, exposed organs, and translucent wings mottled with dark spots.
Elara squealed in delight, darting over to the Flighter and throwing her arms around it.
“Oh, aren’t you just the cutest thing?” Her tiny arms passed through its misty form, but she looked undeterred, making kissing sounds as she hovered around it.
The elder’s voice boomed, shaking the ground beneath them.
“YOU SEE? HE CONTROLS THE MISTS!” Mist leaked from the elder’s mouth and eyes, streaming from his skin like steam from a boiling kettle.
The elder lunged at Henry, his fist arcing through the air in a powerful swing. Henry sidestepped, barely dodging the elder’s blow as it whistled past his ear. The force of it stirred the air, and Henry stumbled backward, heart pounding.
“Come on, Henry!” Elara called out, now perched atop a nearby lamppost swinging her legs. “Don't let the grumpy old man push you around!”
Henry gritted his teeth and flicked his wand, directing the Flighter to attack. The creature hissed, lunging toward the elder with outstretched claws. The elder spun, his arm swinging upward to deflect the creature, but his hand passed harmlessly through its misty form, leaving him off balance.
Taking advantage of the opening, Henry thrust his wand forward, directing the Flighter to dive at the elder again. It slashed at the elder’s chest, its claws passing through his skin, and for a moment, the mist in the elder’s body seemed to recoil, thinning before pulsing out again in a red-hot wave.
The elder snarled, his face contorted in rage. He slammed his fists into the ground, sending a shockwave that rippled through the dirt, forcing Henry to leap back to avoid losing his footing. The Flighter recoiled, circling back around Henry, readying itself for another strike.
Suddenly, the elder charged, his eyes locked on Henry, his hands glowing with fiery energy that radiated off him in waves. Henry braced himself, calling the Flighter to shield him. The misty creature swooped down, placing itself between Henry and the elder just as the elder swung his fist.
The elder’s hand passed through the Flighter but hit Henry square in the chest, sending him sprawling backward. Henry crashed to the ground, gasping as pain radiated through his ribs. He scrambled to his feet, clutching his wand tightly, as the elder advanced with an expression of ruthless determination.
“Now would be a great time for some help, Elara!” Henry shouted, wincing.
Elara blinked, then smirked.
“Oh, you need me now, do you?” She stretched languidly, floating over to him. “Alright, alright, let's have some fun.” She snapped her fingers, and tiny, sparkling orbs appeared, swirling around the elder's head.
The elder swatted at them irritably.
“What trickery is this?”
Elara giggled.
“Just a little light show to brighten your day!” The orbs exploded in flashes of light, momentarily blinding the elder.
Henry took the opportunity to summon the Flighter again, directing it to attack from behind. The creature lunged at the elder’s back, sinking into the mist surrounding him, which writhed and twisted under the assault.
The elder roared, turning just as Henry lifted his wand and aimed, focusing all his remaining energy into one last push. The Flighter pulsed, glowing as it absorbed the last of Henry’s mana, and then erupted in a flare of light, dispersing into a swirling cloud of mist that surrounded the elder.
The elder screamed, clawing at the mist now consuming him, his rage and fury mingling with fear as he thrashed against the enveloping cloud. In the chaos, Elara darted in, sticking out her tongue and tapping him on the nose before zipping back to Henry.
“Time to make our grand exit!” Elara chirped, grabbing Henry’s sleeve and tugging him toward the edge of the crowd, now murmuring in confusion and fear.
Henry staggered, but he couldn’t help glancing back as the elder’s silhouette writhed within the mist, his furious screams echoing across the village square. The crowd’s attention had shifted, their expressions darkening as they watched their leader struggle against the very power he’d tried to pin on Henry.
“Is there anything we can do to save him?” Henry asked, breathless.
“Save him?” Elara laughed, a tinkling sound that belied the gravity of the situation. “Oh, Henry, always the hero. But sometimes, the villain writes his own end.” She gave him a sideways glance, her eyes gleaming. “Besides, we have bigger problems. We aren't even going to be able to save the village.”