It took Tim and Hoban a while to find a rickshaw that afternoon. The music and the usual midday activities were stunted. Even the normal chatty rickshaw driver was unusually somber. After asking around the slums of the N3 section they finally found Aerith in a back alley. Behind a thin curtain, she was huddled under a little shelter built of scrap wood. A single dirty blanket separated her from the cold stone below.

Tim took her shoulder and shook her gently. “Aerith, are you ok?” She was pale and looking thinner than ever. The bruise on her cheek hadn’t healed and her clothes were unwashed and grimy. She slowly opened her eyes and smiled before drifting off again.

“Shit,” said Hoban.” I don’t think she’s eaten since last week.”

Tim picked her up gently. She felt light in his arms, almost ghostly thin. Her cheeks were sinking in and her lips dry. Tim stepped out of her hovel and looked up to Hoban.

“She needs a clinic or a temple.”

“I don’t think anyone would let her in,” replied the pragmatic elf, “she was in debt to Yakuzi. No one would take that risk. And likewise, we can’t take her to the guild. I, I don’t think she’s going to make it.”

Tim dug in his pocket and handed Hoban a few gold. “Then you go get some medicine. I’ll head for the restaurant. Maybe there is some broth she can drink.”

Aerith hung limply in Tim’s arms as he carried her through the empty streets. Despite his average strength, he carried her frail form effortlessly. Finally, she stirred to the smell of noodles and fried food. Tim placed her gently in a chair and laid her on the table. He ordered some thick broth with bone stock and several jugs of wine. With Form, he created a spoon and dipped it into the thick soup. He cupped her head and dribbled it into her mouth.

The chef did his best not to look and certainly didn’t ask questions. There were always strange going ons in the slums, and you didn’t live long if you didn’t keep business to yourself. Even under the threat of the Yakuzi, he served them, happy for the influx of cash. After all, she wasn’t the one paying; therefore they had no right to that money.

Soup ran down the corners of her mouth, she couldn’t swallow it. Tim was at a loss, ready to take her to the temple when Hoban returned. He pulled out a box of vials from his satchel and handed them. Hoban’s hand didn’t stay empty long as it wrapped around a wine bottle and lifted it to his lips. After a gulp that drained half the jug, he explained.

“Give her the red one first, that should provide immediate effects. The yellow is a nutritional supplement. She’ll need a lot of those too before she can get stable.”

Tim took the red potion and gave it the overcharge treatment. When the little bottle blazed a vibrant red he tried putting a spoonful in her mouth. It just leaked out. Tim’s eye twitched.

“Does it only work if swallowed?”

“Um no, it should work if poured onto a wound. But she’s not really wounded, so I wouldn’t waste it like that.”

“No, I’m going to get it inside her another way. Pull her skirt down a little.”

“Wait, you don’t mean… that? No, no nope!”

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

“You can’t not out here,” Hoban flailed, “where’s your shame, or her shame or … Shame!”

Hoban struggled to stop Tim as he pulled down the side of Aerith’s skirt. But the elf suddenly stopped when Tim pressed metal cylinder to the meat of her butt. A moment later Tim pulled out the syringe. Hoban’s eyes went wide. So did Aerith’s.

“What is that?”

“A syringe. I injected the medicine,” Tim answered as he hiked Aerith’s skirt back up.

The overcharged potion kicked in and Aerith sat up as straight as a pole. The burse on her cheek faded and the light returned to her eyes before she pinched them shut again and screamed. Exhausted Aerith slumped back down on the table and glared at Tim accusingly.

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“Can you sit up? I need you to drink this.”

Aerith sat unsteadily and Tim draped an arm around her to hold her stable. With his teeth, he ripped the cork from the vial and the bought it to her lips. Aerith turned a little red but didn’t refuse. Hesitantly her lips parted and the bitter nutritional medicine flowed into her mouth. Warmth returned to her skin and slowly she was able to keep herself upright.

“Thank you,” she mumbled as she rested her head on Tim’s shoulder. A few tears fell from her red eyes. For a moment she wished that she would never have to move. But her comforts ended all too soon as Tim tried to coax her to recover.

“Try and eat a little.”

“Hands wobbled as Aerith lifted the spoon to her mouth and drank. The broth had gone warm by the time she was able to keep it down reliably. Tim smiled as she steadily brought small spoonful to her mouth when suddenly her hand started shaking, her eyes went wide. Then she dropped her spoon.

Three thugs in dirty leather armor swaggered down the street. Without fear the walked up to the table the three was seated at. The biggest and dumbest of the lot must have been their leader. He grabbed Aerith’s bowl with rough and dirty hands.

“Thanks for lunch sister.”

“Hey Hoban, think we should report these guys for theft?”

“I think you’re right, we did pay for the meal.”

“Oh, come off it, you two. You bought and you gave it to her. Everything that she owns belongs to us. So we’re just collectin’ what is ours form this worthless whore.”

All three of the veterans of misery screamed as the dirty white bedrock stretched up and swallowed their legs. In a panic, they were dragged backward, slid to the middle of the vacant street. Not knowing much else besides violence they drew their swords as the struggled to free their legs.

The leader leveled an accusatory glare. “Don’t you know who we are? Let us go or we will kill you all! I’ll end the girl first while you watch. I’ll make her suffer really good too before I end your…” a stone mask cut off his voice.

Tim rose from his chair slowly, a fire raged in his eyes. “No, you don’t know who I am.”

The voice of Form spoke righteous justice to Tim’s mind. Punish them; he was compelled as his fury surged. Water was sucked from the air and condensed into a cloud above Tim casting him in shadow. He drew water from the criminal’s skin, it dried and cracked, blood oozed up and dried again. In an instant, they became a patchwork of broken flesh.

Flames leaped from the kitchen stove and wrapped Tim in a fearsome aura. A surreal chromatic firestorm burned without smoke or fuel. The fire of his anger roared without mouth and crept like claws out to choke to offenders.

Unable to move, the gangsters could only shake their blades at Tim as he approached. But the voice of Form consumed him and their swords melted. Metal fragments fell like rain under the dark cloud only to be caught up into the air. A maelstrom of sharped steel fragments joined the flames around Tim in a torrent of death.

The wind lifted Tim’s feet as he rose from the ground. With the voice of a hurricane, he spoke.” I am the enchanter and she is under my watch!”

“Mercy, have mercy!”

“Mercy? By what right are you owed mercy? Did you show her any?” Tim roared. Form pulled apart their legs till they thought their hips would snap. They groaned and gritted their teeth in agony. The smallest of the three screamed. But the fire subsided and the clouds dissipated. The metal fell to the ground with a clink. The voice of Form faded. “My mercy is that you will live. My mercy is that your families will live. It is my mercy that I don’t rain fire down on this city just to kill Yakuzi!”

“Oh thank you, thank you good master thank y…” The groveling bandits were interrupted with shock as their sword fragments turned to wires that climbed up their bodies. Bound and coiled they spat out upon the ground. With a shove, the criminals speedily rolled down the gentle slope of the alley. Somewhere in the distance, the three screamed as they bounced down steps.

Reason returned to Tim as he turned to Aerith. “Are you…” She interrupted him with a slap to the face that left him stunned.

“You fool of a monster!” Aerith screamed before running off.

“You really are an idiot,” affirmed Hoban from underneath the table.

Tim paused for a moment dumbfounded before chasing after her. Back at the little ramshackle lean-to he heard sobbing from behind the curtain. Hesitantly he pulled it aside and squeezed in next to Aerith.

Why, why did you do that, you stupid idiot!”

“I was just trying to protect you.”

“But now, now they will come after you too.” She curled her dainty hands into fists and smacked him over and over. Tim endured, and after a moment her energy waned. Not knowing what else to do he pulled her into his embrace. Still weak, Aerith melted against him.

“They will kill you. And it’s my fault. Tim, I wish we never met.” She tried to pull away, but he held her tight. And she cried again.

“Don’t worry Aerith. It will be ok. I’ll figure out something.” He stroked her dirty black hair and soon the sobbing stopped. Her exhaustion had caught up with her and now she was too tired to cry. Tim laid her down gently on the worn blanket.

On the wall the made up the side of her shelter he created a secret hiding place. Inside the hollow, he placed the remaining vials of nutrients. When he closed the door it was seamless and nearly invisible. He melded wood together to waterproof her roof and walls.

Tim got to one knee and was ready to leave.” I have to do some work tomorrow, but the next day I’ll be here at first light. Please survive. Hold on just a little bit longer. We will make it through this.”

As he turned to go he felt a pulling at his pant leg. Aerith had struggled to sit up and beckoned him closer. Tim leaned down and she took his face and kissed him softly on the cheek.

“Stay safe.”

With a tomato red face, Tim returned to find Hoban completely drunk.