Flammability: Chapter Four

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Clare ran frantically through the battle, trying desperately to find whatever looked like a building that would hold the knowledge she sought. Weapons swung wildly left and right, monks putting her men down with ease, leading to many men singling one out and defeating him through sheer numbers. The stench of blood hung in the air like the oily scent of a fish market, the ground slick and red, fallen men and women everywhere.

Clare checked every building she could find, though she was never the first to get there. Inside every room, the battle raged, people died, and more than once, she was forced to run out as the monks spotted her and refocused their attention. Pure, unbridled luck had redirected their attention off of her every time as she went from room to room, building to building.

As she ran across a courtyard, she saw one of the monks using magic to slay her men with ease, though he had made the ground unstable, and the ground beneath one of the younger monks behind him gave and he fell from the ledge into the unknown of the forest below. She ran from the fight, terrified of such a powerful force so uncaring of its own members in battle.

"Where could it be..."

Clare started to lose any hope of finding what she came for. The battle was going entirely differently than she had anticipated. She was losing too many men, there were more monks than she thought possible, and they were all far superior to her ragtag group of pretend soldiers. It would be best if she took cover somewhere and waited it out.

"There," she said to herself, looking toward a larger building. It had to house something significant, maybe an indoor garden or library. It would be a good place to hide until everything was over, and she could take a robe from one of the dead and sneak out after, maybe even find a healing scroll or book to save her son.

As she approached, she felt a presence come up behind her, and before she could react, a frigid metal instrument poked into her back. In spite of the cold steel, she felt a burning hot sensation in her front, and when she looked down, a metal spike was stuck through her abdomen.

"No," she rasped.

The spike came back out, and Clare fell forward. She looked back, but whoever had stuck her was already running off, joining the battle to eliminate more of her force. Clare put her hands over her wound, trying to apply pressure, as she pushed forward and up to a wall she could lean against to put pressure on the other side.

"No," she said again. "No, please, this can't be... This can't happen... I was so close..."

She could feel herself losing energy as the blood pumped out of her body with every beat of her heart, her hands coated in a deep shade of crimson. They started to shake as they weakened, her adrenaline response kicking in and slightly numbing the paid of her through-and-through wound.

"My son..."

"He'll be fine."

Clare pulled her head up at the sudden sound of a friendly voice. Before her stood the stranger, wearing his headwear and a strangely normal outfit for the situation, looking down at her with that same creepy smile that never faltered. There was more to it this time, though; a freakish sense of satisfaction oozed through his teeth.

"You!" Clare said. "Please, I'm so close, I-"

"Oh, you did your job." The man snapped his fingers. "Your son is healthy, as per our agreement. You read the map and got me here; I have made good on my end of the bargain."

"What?" Clare said. She felt a coldness taking her. "But I thought-"

"I never said I couldn't heal your boy on my own," the man said, bending his knees into a deep squat to speak with Clare on even ground. "It is true, they had the healing spell you needed here. But I never needed anything of the sort."

"Fine then!" Clare said, overjoyed that her son would be okay when she returned. "Please, heal me, so I can go home and see-"

"Well, I don't know about that," the stranger interrupted. Clare froze and blinked at him. "I granted your wish, so that I could collect on a debt from a very, very long time ago. Truth be told, you and your boy don't much interest me. Before I leave, I will make sure the monastery has paid its due to the very tin. Though your men are all gone now, the order won't be able to evade me."

"What?" Clare replied in astonishment.

"Well, I saw you, like I said I would. Probably won't be seeing you again after this time, though. So long!"

"Wait!" Clare called tearfully as the stranger turned around. "I'll do anything! Just let me see my boy again!"

"I don't think I want-" The stranger abruptly stopped speaking- "Actually... you know what, I think I just might help you."

"R-really?" Clare choked out. Her ability to speak rapidly diminished as she looked up at the stranger, a gleam of hope in her eyes.

"I think so," the stranger said. "But it will cost you. This time, you are the one asking me for help, after all."

"F-fine," Clare replied. "I'll pay..."

"There's no going baaaack~" the stranger teased. Clare rasped through clenched teeth at him. "Very well. Give me the map."

Clare took her hand off her wound and shakily handed the map over. Before her eyes, he floated it into the air, tore it into pieces, and scattered them all to the wind, each piece following a different air current and flying off into the wide world.

"You'll lose consciousness soon, but I'll help you; you'll wake up in your son's hospital bed, and he'll be beside you. But you won't be able to return up here, and someday, I will be back to get my due from you."

"Fine," Clare barely managed to breathe out the words.

"I do thank you for all your help," the stranger said. Clare's vision tunneled, and all she could see was the stranger squatting down before her. "And here's hoping for a wonderful adventure together."

Clare couldn't respond. The last thing she remembered was the small amount of vision she did have remaining fading into black as the world turned sideways, and everything went silent.

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