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Weight of Worlds
Chapter 113 - Bad to Worse

Chapter 113 - Bad to Worse

Ranvir jerked back letting the knife flash past him. For a moment, the people in the clearing quietened around them, as they all saw Ratface slashing with the knife. Red boiled up within Ranvir, lashing back and forth in froth.

Before he realized what he’d done Ranvir tackled the man, throwing them both to the ground. He quickly grabbed Ratface’s hand and slammed it into the cobbles, making him drop the knife. The man hissed in pain as he struggled against Ranvir, but he was smaller and clearly out of shape.

Ranvir’d dropped his hammer as he’d taken the instigator to the ground, so he hammered a fist into his side. He knew the punch landed for the wheezing hiss of pain it drew out. Before he could pull back for another punch Ratface managed to get a leg between them and threw Ranvir off.

Rolling away, Ranvir tried catching his breath from the knee he’d taken in the stomach, but soon heard Ratface scrabbling towards him.

It’s taken too long, something told Ranvir. Jerking, he rolled to the side as he heard Ratface’s scrabbling stop. His knife hammered into the cobble, bending the iron and painfully wrenching the smaller man’s hand.

Lunging forwards in a half crouch, Ranvir caught him by the jacket and hammered a fist into his face feeling the snap of his nose.

Red intensified within him, crying out for more, lashing about wildly. Ranvir was only barely aware of his tether twisting, like it was caught in a storm, as he slammed another fist home. Ratface gurgled as blood spilled from his ruined nose and ran down the side of his face.

Rearing back for another strike, a foot smashed into Ranvir’s face forcefully removing him from Ratface. The ground swam underneath Ranvir and he tasted copper. The entire world tilted as he tried sitting up, causing him to lean against it and nearly falling over.

It was getting dreadfully cold. He felt a shiver run through him as he tried dabbing at the blood on his nose, but it was sticky and thicker than it should be. Pulling his hand away, he saw it freeze between his fingers before cracking and falling away.

Blurry faces appeared before him. He tried fending them off but they just grabbed his arms and lifted him up. Blinking a few times, he recognized one of them as Grevor, before turning to Kalf on his right.

“Quickly, more people are showing up,” someone Ranvir couldn’t see hissed.

“We’re trying but he’s not exactly easy to maneuver,” Grevor replied.

Ranvir blinked again realizing the cobbles were moving under his feet. “My hammer.”

“I got your hammer, let’s just get back,” the unseen voice said again.

Ranvir tried looking around, but the world tilted as he did, bringing them to a sudden halt. Slowly, they steadied and Ranvir managed to get his feet under him. Sansir. Ranvir finally realized who the hidden voice belonged to, the realization working itself through the fog that had settled over his mind.

A wave of orange and red rushed through Ranvir’s mind, like a great wind, clearing away the haze. Ranvir gasped, stumbling for a second before catching himself.

“Woah!” Kalf exclaimed, as he turned supporting himself.

He reached out for his hammer, looking towards Sansir who was hustling right behind them. He paused for a second allowing Ranvir to look behind him. All the bars and drinking houses had their doors open, most of them filled with the silhouettes of people against the unsteady firelight within.

“Ranvir, are you okay?” Sansir asked stepping closer.

“My hammer.” He replied, taking it out of Sansir’s limp hand. He briefly exchanged a glance with Sansir, noting the green of his eyes almost seeming to glow even as red light was cast upon his face.

“Your eyes, Ranvir...” Sansir sounded worried, even though he wasn’t looking at the enemies. Red and orange took shape within Ranvir, roaring loudly. Something that didn’t quite fit the shape of a grown man, broader, more muscled, on all fours with the rear legs of a cat and a thin twitchy tail. His hand tightened on the grip of his hammer as he sent his tether-sense out towards the challengers.

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“We don’t have time for this!” Grevor hissed, yanking Ranvir backwards pulling him off balance.

Growling, Ranvir turned towards him, before noticing the rest of their allies gathering in the waiting area. His eyes lingered on a boy standing quietly next to the administration assistants, clutching the smaller one’s pant leg.

Breath escaped Ranvir in a rush, and he shook his head. “S-sorry.” He mumbled gesturing for them to go.

“Fuck it.” Grev cursed. “It can wait!” Then he jogged back to the tent. Dovar had joined Herlu on watch as they observed the rising cries of the people in the drinking houses and taverns that lined the square.

“This is bad,” Esmund said the moment they entered the tent. His hands shook as he gripped the spear in his hands. Ranvir walked over to him while tracking Iri’s path through the sound of his footsteps.

Ranvir was about to grab Es, when he realized he was still holding something in his left hand. Opening it, he found a small tin pin of an eye with lines depicting heat emanating from the edges of it.

Symbol of Kurri. He thought, slipping it into his pocket, as he returned his hammer to its loop. Accepting Iri’s rushing hug to his leg, by patting the boy’s head with his right hand, he grabbed Es with his left hand, holding onto the back of his neck.

“Brother,” Ranvir whispered pulling him closer. He felt oddly detached from what was happening around him, but could see Esmund’s need for reassurance. “It’s going to be okay.” His voice oddly calm, with a simmering intensity that startled Ranvir. Red and orange still ringed the creature in Ranvir’s mind eye.

Esmund swallowed, looking at him wide-eyed. “You’re a deterrent, not our first weapon.” He shook Es’ head. “Understand?”

Es nodded stiffly, getting a nod in return. In the background, Ranvir heard Sansir, Grev, and Kalf reporting to Yngvar, as he knelt to talk with Iri.

“Hey.” Ranvir smoothed hair out of the child’s face as he smiled. “How did you get back here?”

Iri sniffled, his face had runnels from tears and the collar of his worn shirt was wet with them. “Your face.” He sniffed loudly. “Are you okay?”

With his mentioning of it, Ranvir suddenly registered the throbbing pain around his mouth. It felt like his lips might explode from the pressure any moment, though there was a soothing chill to it as well. Probably why he wasn’t spitting blood everywhere, if Sansir froze it solid.

“I’ll be fine.” Ranvir said, clapping the little guy on his shoulder. “What about you? I thought you’d gone home.”

Iri sniffed again. “I didn’t want to. I’d rather stay with you guys.” He moved in to hug Ranvir, and he let the little boy. Offering him any solace in a situation like this was a kindness. Though, the cries and outrage coming from the drinking houses were getting louder and more serious.

“Ranvir.” Yngvar called. “I need to talk with you.”

Looking over Iri’s shoulder, Ranvir nodded at his leader. Suddenly, Yngvar looked very young and the lacking way in which he filled out his uniform felt very noticeable.

“Do you want to stay here with Esmund, or go back to Skur?”

“I want to stay with you!”

“But I need to talk with Yngvar, so you’re going to have to choose.”

Iri sniffed, looking from Esmund to Skur, the administrator, then to an impatiently fiddling Yngvar. Then he ran over to Skur. Ranvir wasn’t surprised, with an understanding smile and calming attitude, her entire being practically yelled comfort. Even when her eyes were wide as saucers and flitting from person to person nervously. Her eyes lingered on Ranvir for a moment.

Probably the blood on my face. He contemplated walking over to Yngvar. “Sir?”

“I’ve gotten the rough cut of events from the others, so I won’t ask you to tell me right away.” Yngvar’s eyes seemed to search Ranvir’s for a very long moment before. “I need to seal the wound on your lip. It’s drying and starting to bleed again and you might have a concussion as well.”

Ranvir nodded as light shimmered from Yngvar’s fingers. He brought them over Ranvir’s lips, causing a tingling sensation. Then he put his hands on Ranvir’s temples. For a moment, Ranvir felt only a trickle of power, forming some weird sort of resonance between his fingers. Then, with strain clearly showing around his eyes, Yngvar unleashed a wave of power that made Ranvir feel like his head was filled with bees.

Stumbling away, Ranvir coughed a few times and scratched his nose trying to still the itching. Straightening, he suddenly felt a lot clearer. The creature’s haze was lifted as Yngvar’s expression blew through him, the creature alongside. Suddenly, trembling violet fear, raw red anger, a deep protective green and a thousand shades in between rose within Ranivr. A single tear ran down his eye before he turned his attention to Yngvar. His hands shook with the sudden overload of emotions.

The healer felt different than usual and it took Ranvir a moment to figure out why. He didn’t feel any weaker, but he felt like Ranvir did on his first run of the trimester. It wasn’t surprising really, he’d been expressing all day, working power in some of the most complicated ways you could and now he’d just healed a head injury.

Through his many times visiting the medical facility of the academy, Ranvir’d learned that head injuries of any kind tended to be a lot more complicated to heal, which could be remedied with either skill or power.

Before Ranvir could voice his worry that their strongest member was already tired, Herlu ducked through the curtains of the operation room. Gasping for air, eyes wide, he went directly to Yngvar.

Before he could say anything, Ranvir felt it. The ground underneath his feet was rumbling. A noise in the distance. People yelling.