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Part III.II.X: On His Own Terms

Urash leaned against the Manor, watching the firestorm expand across his walls. Its heat alone was enough to melt the flower murals, the greenery dripping into a jagged mosaic. He wondered whether Namshi, that great artist, would have approved of the new abstract design. It was certainly more interesting than all those daisies and roses. In another life, he would've lamented over the loss of his precious family heirloom. But at least this way he got to send it off on his own terms.

Urash was still catching his breath after crawling across the courtyard. He was fortunate the fountain shielded him from the initial blast, but crawling with one good arm and barely a leg was more than taxing. Fortunately, through the chaos, he was one of the lucky few who crossed the courtyard unscathed. After propping himself up against the wall, he watched as the walls burst into fiery explosions and the screamers kill every person within the Manor.

He had to give himself credit: he could not have planned it any better. If he still had his tobacco pipe, it would have been downright pleasant.

At least, it was for a moment. Then the others showed up.

Eevi came down from the steps, greeting Jere, Adok, and the healer. The sight perplexed Urash, as he thought the healer had died weeks ago. Maybe he was mistaken, but he cared little at this point.

As the four walked back to the Manor, Eevi caught Urash where he lay. He rolled his good eye as she approached.

“Let me be, woman,” Urash slurred.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“This was your doing, wasn’t it?” Eevi asked. The other three crowded around her, trying to get a good look. Urash wondered how disgusting he looked now, how broken his body had become.

Still, someone had to know. Urash wished he could have told Boah, but these four would have to do. “Kegs of brown ash,” he said. “Buried them in the walls decades ago.” He winced, trying to adjust his legs to prop himself up. “Lit the fuse yesterday… Didn’t think they’d take this long to light, but… I must admit… the timing is impeccable.”

The five all looked back to the courtyard. The firestorm swirled within now, and most of the screamers long ago burnt to crisps. Still, it would be only a matter of time before the fire died out and more screamers followed.

“You… should move on,” Urash continued, his wheezing worsening as he spoke. “It’ll all be rubble… before long.”

They stared at him for a moment before moving off. Before they could, Urash coughed one more time, pointing to Eevi. “Wait… I’ve been wondering all night… You came through the toilets… right?”

“Yeah,” Eevi said, clearly done with him.

“Hmm… Go back the way you came… through the shitter!” Urash laughed before it settled into a croak. “And if you make it to the cordon by any chance… check a chest on the top building… Little present from Kirashi.”

“Zaman,” said Adok, struggling to meet his eye. “You’ve helped us. We could help you, if…” his voice trailed off as he realized Jere and Eevi turned, cutting him off with glares before he could finish.

Urash giggled at the request. “Don’t fool yourselves… I never did it for any of you.” He leaned back against the wall, his body sliding towards the ground. He felt himself getting sleepier, the pain beginning to fade. It would be over soon, he knew it. “I’m a homebody… Always been exactly where I needed to be.”

Urash closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the four were gone. He was alone at last. He smiled as he watched the firestorm dance and swirl around him. It was a sublime sight.

Another explosion burst, this one leveling the Manor in its entirety. Zaman Urash was dead long before the flames reached his body.