Chapter 12- White Fire, Black Lightning

The Sun set over lake Sey’chey, the working folk of Sohouta returned home to their beds, while the woods outside curled and twisted into their second life. Far from the beacon of Midnight Bloom, the depths of Kellylin’s woods became rife with the skitter of bugs and the prowl of Gloom Owls. All attempts from the forest to foster a whimsical image began to give way to a sight of unfeeling dark, to any creature caught within, it became a labyrinth of nature’s cruelty. Such cruelty poured into magical wells across the forest. They were places of rot, known as Flesh Wounds to the locals. The Glenchel Flesh wound was the closest to Lake Sey’chey, and it was host to a monster tonight. The beast that was the stuff of nightmare to the folk of Sohouta and beyond, the scourge of their home and the perversion of their spirit, the Cu’maru still stalked the treeline, and clans like the infamous Jaarekins raided and pillaged in his name. The people of Sohouta had only their numbers to thank for their safety tonight. 

Yhora wandered the streets in the cool dusk. She was alone, she had pushed Gane away at the library and hadn’t seen a friendly face since. It was a bad habit of hers. It had happened the last night she was with her family. Her mother Ilura and her father Ektar had come to wish her good luck before she left to train as a ranger for the clan. It was her path since birth, and it had arrived like all of them had expected it to, but she had pushed them away out of petty angst. It was her path, but not a path she had chosen, and she resented it, she had taken it out on them that last night. But it wasn’t their fault, they hadn’t chosen her path either, and they just wanted to see her successful. She had only let herself act like that towards them because she thought it wouldn’t be the last time she saw them. But both of them, her sisters too, were gone before she would return. 

When she got the news she pushed her friends in the Nohanja Rangers away too, she had broken Liswaya’s trust by running off without him, and had branded herself as a deserter. She did it again too after Oswain and Lycce had taken her in. She had been given a third chance by her close family to avoid this mistake, but she failed again. That was the night that she had met Gane, which was probably the best thing that ever came out of such decisions. It was disheartening that the best decision she had made in the past 2 years had only worked out by sheer coincidence, and now she had pushed Gane away. 

She stopped at the dividing line that led into the Nohanja District. Beyond that line was the Clan that she had abandoned, and that had not looked back when she did. She was still wanted inside it’s jurisdiction, even more so now after they had been humiliated in court. All she wanted was to step over that line and to be let back in with open arms, to make things go back to how they were. She wanted to rip out the tiny piece of herself that had caused all of these problems and go on from there, but she couldn't. Then she felt it again, a little white blip of thought in the side of her mind, who’s fault was it really? It was the Cu’maru, it was the Torpec Clan. She clenched her fist, she knew better then to act on such a base instinct. She needed to find the cause inside of her, and that’s why she needed to be alone. She sat down by the side of the street and stared out over the docks and into the woods beyond. 

Then suddenly there was a massive explosion from near the docks. Flames billowed up into the air. She heard shouts and fighting coming from several blocks down. She grabbed her tsuk and leapt up onto the shimmering blue roofs of the city, darting over to see a large warehouse on fire. She wanted to charge in to help, but held back as she heard furious yelling and crashing from inside. She waited another second and felt a slight rain trickle down on her, then a light downpour, clouds gathered in the sky and the fire in the warehouse was put out. She watched as one solitary person left out the front door, she made eye contact with whoever it was for a single moment, but then they turned away and disappeared down the street. 

Yhora waited a few minutes longer until she knew the coast was clear, she leapt silently down to the street and pushed open the door, which was hanging off of half of its latches. She was struck immediately by the horrific image inside the warehouse, nearly thirty men, wearing ripped up hoods and cowls, covered in bloody cuts, hanging from globs of indigo slime, hanging onto the walls and ceilings, all unconscious, most breathing. She reached out to one, but pulled her hand back, she didn’t want to touch whatever sludge they were trapped in. 

A rustle was heard from behind her back, Yhora spun around, alert with the tsuk in hand. She saw nothing. She looked up to see an upper balcony, with a massive hole blown through it. She reeled back and leapt up, grabbing the ledge and pulling herself onto the second floor. She heard another noise, a creak of metal. She pulled out a flash bomb, and held it close to her chest. She looked back and forth through shadowy broken beams of wood, fallen bits of the ceiling and drapes caught on bits of rubble. She stopped at a silhouette in the moonlight coming through the window. The figure lunged at her, pushing her to the ground, it was quick and sharp and covered in metal armor. She kicked back with Roni strength, clashing into his chest plate and throwing him back. She clicked the flash bomb and threw it at his feet, the figure panicked and kicked the flash bomb through the railing and down to the second floor. The light flashed out of the bomb when it exploded, filling the whole room with perfect visibility for a split second. She saw a masked man in armor and a cape, with two swords in hand. The man paced back and forth for another second, then lunged at her again. Yhora ducked down as he sailed over her. She ripped a stun bomb off her bandolier. Rolled it towards him. The man landed with a crash and was then blasted onto his back by the stun bomb, he smashed into the wall and dropped limp.

About an hour and a half passed. Yhora propped him up and removed his mask and weapons. He didn’t look so intimidating without it. He had salmon blond hair and a thin face. He didn’t look like he’d eaten or slept well in a while. She had lit several candles around them for light, and watched out the cracked window as the rain came down, it was ramping up, no thunder yet though.

The man struggled awake and strained his eyes open, Yhora leapt up and held out her tsuk in front of the man.

“You’re disarmed. Don’t do anything stupid again. Who did this?”

The man looked at her with confusion, he looked like he tried to think but then clutched his forehead in strain. She felt bad watching him struggle, she pulled a ration bar from the pouch on her ranger uniform and handed it to him. He grabbed it and took a discerning bite, before eating the rest of it ravenously. 

“Do you got another?” he asked weakly.

She did, she grabbed her last one and gave it to him. The man ate this one ravenously as well.

“Thank you.” He tried to get up, she shoved the tsuk in front of his face and pushed him back down. He didn’t need the encouragement, he slumped back down against the wooden beam.

“I’ll ask again. Who did this?”

The man looked up at her, and looked like he was about to lie, but then the maliciousness left his face and he answered.

“It wasn’t me. It was a Shadow Soul, I watched from the rooftop while it did this.”

“What’s a Shadow Soul?”

“It’s a beast of dark magic, a being of Blight. It got away, but I’m not concerned with it, these people deserved it. They’re worshippers of Blight. Tone Cultists and Jaarekins.”

Yhora winced at the name, the man noticed it.

“So you know them?”

“I do. They took some people that are very dear to me, them and their leader Th’raush.”

“I know your pain. I’ve lost people to the Blight and its worshippers too, and the Jaarekins have a hit out on me. I came here to investigate their alliance with the Tone Cult. It seems like this whole city is hoarding weapons and making back alley deals.”

Yhora stared out the window, there was a maelstrom over the city, she could make out the shapes of many Clan courts built tall above the rest of the city. The Courts were not asleep. She turned back to the man.

“An enemy of the Jaarekins is a friend of mine.” She helped him sit up. “I’m Yhora Va’Nohanja by the way.”

The man was slapped with a shocked expression. Then it faded away into a calmness. “I am Sajazar Hilkin.”

Yhora’s eyes widened at the name, she recognized him now, the man that broke into the Wreck of the Albatross, the one who tried to hurt Gane. She raised her tsuk up again.

“You were there at the Albatross trying to kill Gane! You worked with the Jaarekins! You worked with the Cu’maru!”

Sajazar threw his hands up and explained himself calmly.

“I was never a friend of the Jaarekins, and certainly not of that Blighted monster the Cu’maru. And I never tried to kill Gane, we were partners, chosen to save the world together. I just wanted to convince him to let the Blight fade away.”

Yhora kept the tsuk in his face, she continued staring dagger eyed at him.

“Listen,” he said “They put their hit out on me because I turned away from them the second I had found Gane. And I can show you where they are now, where the Cu’maru is.”

Yhora felt the white hot sensation well up inside her again. The Cu’maru was near? Thoughts raced through her head, irrational angry thoughts.

“I know your pain,” he said. “I know what it's like to want revenge. I can help you get it.”

For the first time, she felt the white fire inside her fed, this thought of revenge eased it. If she was going to be left behind by fate, she could at least strike back with all her fury. Yhora stared out into the storm outside, she looked beyond the city’s light and into the woods. She wanted to set things right. She then threw his swords and mask down at his feet. A slight smile came over Sajazar’s face, he picked up the swords and sheathed them on his waist, putting the mask over his face. Yhora walked from the window back to the railing.

“Let’s get revenge then.”

They struck out into the streets, rain came down in sheets above them, with the moon only slightly visible through the cloud cover above, if not for the bloom of the roofs, the streets would be nearly pitch black. She followed as Sajazar led through the maze of indistinguishable buildings. She held her tsuk tightly in her hand, and loaded a bomb into it as they sprinted down the wet streets. She could feel the white hot rage was feasting from within her, she had fueled it, but the cure for it was surely in sight, she would be rid of it, once he was gone.

They reached the canal that surrounded the city. In her sheer state of tunnel vision, Yhora almost jumped in to swim across, but Saj stopped her. He pointed to a small rowing boat tied up at the dock. 

“We’re not stealing a boat!”

“You’re welcome to drown if you want.” He said through the mask.

Sajazar jumped down into the tiny vessel and cut the ropes with his sword, he held the side of the dock for the extra moment it took Yhora to climb aboard. Saj pushed off and they rowed through the inky black canal, the lack of words might have been awkward if not for the screaming rain belting them from above.

They ran aground at the other side and climbed up onto the muddy banks, leaving the boat to be swept away by the flow of the canal. As they climbed up from the mud they found themselves on a small gravel road that connected the outer farms to the city. Sajazar led her West, along the outside of the canal and towards the Agano River. As they walked, Yhora heard a strange commotion moving in on them. She tapped Saj on the shoulder and they both jumped to the side of the road and hit behind a stable as two men carrying lanterns passed them by. They were Niern men, and they were armed. 

“Do you know who those people are?” She whispered.

“We Niern don’t all know each other.”

“That’s not what I mean! You said you’ve been watching all these armed groups enter the city. Do you recognize their uniforms?”

“They’re not Tone Cultists and they’re not Jaarekins.”

“I wanna get a better look at them.” Yhora crept after the armed men. Saj tried to whisper-yell after her, to no avail. 

Yhora followed the two men a small ways back towards a small camp behind a farmhouse. There were lanterns and tents all around with a lit up barn that seemed to be chock full of people. Most of them had weapons, all of them were Neirn. Yhora watched them from the roof of a farmhouse. She heard Saj climb up next to her. 

“Ok you found them, now let's get out of here before they spot us.”

“What are they doing here…” Yhora muttered. “Look, they have no banners and carry no flags.”

“Maybe they’re refugees. Hiding away before the Summer Draft.”

“Refugees don’t travel in regiments, especially not if they’re daft dodgers.”

“It’s just like I said. Everyone in Sohouta is building armies. The Blight is causing this city to collapse in on itself.”

“I don’t think it’s the Blight…” 

They stayed and watched for a few more minutes, until the white hot fire inside Yhora surged again. It reminded her of why she was here, and what she must

do. She jumped off the roof and Saj followed. They continued for the edge of the forest.

Eventually they stepped off the gravel and into the brush, the woods were alive at night. It was enough to terrify the average person, but Yhora was a trained Ranger, and Sajazar showed nothing through his mask. 

“They’re held up in the Glenchel Flesh Wound. They’re camping there tonight, and would have met up with the rest in the next few days if not for the Shadow Soul.” Sajazar stated.

Yhora lit her bomb that she held in her tsuk, it began to glow a bright yellow light, it was all the light they had as they moved deeper into the trees. They moved over thick violet roots, and into the grasp of the indigo vines. At this point Yhora was leading the way. She knew the Glechel Flesh Wound, it had been a frequent training spot with the Rangers. One of the most treacherous and isolated parts of the woods, perfect for learning the more advanced survival skills. She had been there with Liswaya and the others the day that the news arrived. She had likely been out there when it happened. And now the Cu’maru was staking that very spot, it couldn’t have been by chance, this was destiny spitting in her face. This was her punishment for failing her one duty in life. Her Heiskarn had come back to flaunt itself, laughing from the treetops with the sound of the shrieking crickets. The rustle of leaves, the snapping of branches, the flitting of creatures in the night blared in her ears from all around her. The rain continued to beat down on her, even though the thick canopy. These annoyances fueled the white hot flame inside her abdomen, turning it into a blazing wildfire. She felt it exhaling out her nose as she breathed. She sped up, her walk turned to a sprint as she trampled and swatted any branches that stood in her way. Sajazar followed in her warpath, increasing his pace to keep up. 

Bursting forth from the thicket into a small creek bed. Standing directly in her path was a radiant white Doe, it looked up from the grass, and stared blankly at her from across the creek. Yhora stopped in her tracks. She pushed the wet hair up and out of her face, running her hand over her head, over the short stumps of antlers. She was utterly enraged at the audacity of this Doe. She felt the white fire roar inside her.

“YOU GET OUT OF HERE!!”

Yhora lobbed the ball of light with her tsuk, sending it square towards the Doe. The ball exploded with a flash, blinding her for a split second. When she opened her eyes again there was no light. No sign of a radiant Doe, only shimming bits of the broken ball reflecting scraps of moonlight from through the canopy.

Sajazar appeared out of the thicket behind her. He said nothing, looking at her with an expressionless mask. They stood in darkness for a few moments, rain still pouring over them, when Saj spoke up over the crickets.

“I know your pain.”

“No you don’t.”

“I know what it’s like to lose a family to Magic.” Saj pulled the mask off his face, she could see the glint of his eyes in the moonlight. “My family moved away from our hometown of Blistle. They moved us up into the hills, away from everyone else. They had been converted by the Tone Cult, and wanted to isolate me and my sister, to convert us too. Eventually they fell deeper into the Magical arts, they became Sanguinites, they put liquid magic into their blood, into my blood too. My sister had the good sense to flee, she offered to take me with her, but I was only a child. I stayed with my parents out of loyalty, hoping they would make things the way they were again. But they never did, they dug deeper into magic over the years and forced me to as well. It ended with them trying to provoke the magic in my blood, to find out what it had done to me, that’s when I first used the Blight in my veins. I didn’t mean to, but the Blight destroyed them. It turned them to ash. That is why I have to stop the Magic from resurging in the world. I have to cleanse myself of the Blight, and keep the world from ever being hurt by it again.”

Yhora stared at him silently. Could her failures have come from Magic as well, the Cu’maru wouldn’t exist without it, the Flesh Wound wouldn’t either. These thoughts only tempered the flames inside her. 

She and Sajazar continued through the woods, the sounds of crickets and rain began to dull as they dug deeper into the heart of the forest. Yhora thought nothing of it, she assumed the white fire was pushing away all distractions. But she was wrong, the rains really had begun to peter out, and as they got closer to the Flesh Wound, there were less and less crickets to be heard. They followed the decrepit veins of the sick forest. Winding along the routes of rot and closing in on a concentration of Kellylin’s cancer. The scenery tried to warn them, but was ignored out of rage, or not noticed thanks to the dark. 

She stepped over the creek and through the last bit of living woods until she was standing in an ash covered graveyard of trees. They were close now, she could smell it. The moon shone brightly with no canopy to block it. The rain had stopped completely and the clouds had left the sky. This Flesh Wound wasn’t very large, only a half hour's walk end to end, she could see flickers of the Jaarekins’ campfire from through the empty branches ahead. 

“What’s our plan?” Yhora asked.

“Stalk and strike. You cannot plan far in advance. Magic is a wild and unpredictable force.” 

“Yes, but…”

“Just think of what it took from you. Think of the anguish it has caused you. That is all you will need to set things right.”

Yhora closed her eyes, pictured the moment she got the news, she pictured the last time she saw them before she left, she pictured the ruins of her home. She took a step forward, and a wave of oil splashed down into the fire. She took another step, again it roared. Yhora pulled a bomb off her bandolier, not bothering to check what kind, and loaded it into her tsuk. She charged forward wordlessly, Sajazar quickly followed behind. Her furious footfalls were muffled by the soft ash covering the forest floor. There was no noise but her breath and the ever growing sound of flickering fire, the noises of Jaarekin men laughing around their camp. 

Yhora stopped short just outside of their camp. She stalked around the edge of it, weaving behind the mangled corpses of trees. There was a fetid joy emanating out from their camp, they were murderers sitting in a graveyard and yet they laughed as they tore into their food. Yhora watched as Sajazar flanked around the other side of the circular camp, she could see him watching from the treeline as well, with his swords drawn. She waited for several excruciating minutes, watching for the Cu’maru’s face. She did not see it, he must have been in their tent. He was still taunting her, she couldn’t wait any longer.

In an instant Yhora fell upon them. She launched the bomb with her tsuk. It exploded in a flash of light and ringing noise. Kicking embers out from the campfire. Disorienting all the Jaarekin men eating around it. Two Jaarekins poured out from the tent, their eyes were ravenous and they carried swords. They both swung down at her. Yhora leapt backwards, then pivoted back at them. She drove the blunt end of her tsuk directly into the nose of the left Jaarekin. He flew back limply and crashed into the stones around the campfire. Yhora ducked under another slash. Sajazar charged from behind and stabbed his blade through the chest of the other Jaarekin. 

More marauders came from around the camp, they shouted out battle cries, some incomprehensible. They began to surround them with sheer numbers. Yhora didn’t care. The blazing inferno inside her wanted blood. She charged into three men, knocking some down with her sheer rage. Sustaining a heavy thrashing from their clubs and spears, but the fire would not be felled. 

Sajazar clashed with more men still. The daggers and swords scraped into his armor. He slashed and cut at the Jaarekins with his own fury. He too could feel something boiling in him. He could feel it building up in his veins. 

She was thrown into a rotting log, it split upon impact, the sharp pain shooting up her back. Yhora removed the bandolier and pulled two bombs. Three Jaarekins ran at her with intent to kill, she threw the bombs square in their path. The detonation threw them across the camp, then crumpled into the ashes as they landed. Sajazar threw back his opponents as well, they fell to their knees as blood gushed out from their cuts.

The sounds of desperate battle turned to silence as the main tent was pushed open. The gnarled horns of Th’raush Va’Jaarekin winded out from inside. He looked over at his fallen clan brothers. Didn’t wince nor mourn, he simply turned to Yhora and Sajazar.

“Why have you come here?” He snarled.

“You burned down Aledhe Village. It was my job to stop you, and now I’ve come to make good on my Heiskarn.”

A wicked smile crept across his face. He began to walk forward, Yhora didn’t step back. “You'll have to remind me. I don't remember any faces from that day.”

Yhora closed her eyes, she held back tears. “I have one more thing to ask. Did the Torpecs pay you to do it?”

The smile intensified on his face. “It well could have been. They’ve all paid me in the past, but then again I’ve done work for pleasure before too. Most recently the Itsusu Clan has begun doing business with us.”

Yhora’s eyes burst open and she leapt at the Cu’maru. She plunged the sharp end of her tsuk down at him. He dodged out of the way. He was towering but lithe. Th’raush’s horns curled and grew sharper, his fingers grew into long blades, his eyes sunk in and shined black. He slashed his claw across Yhora’s back. Cutting through her coat and breaking the skin. She jumped back at him again, swinging wildly, Th’raush deflecting with his long hands. Sajazar dove in from behind and cut into his back. Th’raush arched his long spine and held out both hands, swatting with his claws at both of them at once. Yhora plunged her tsuk into his hand, stabbing in. He wrapped his long fingers around her wrists and threw her towards the treeline. He then lowered his head and charged at Saj with his antlers. 

The Cu’maru’s antlers caught Saj and carried him all the way into the trunk of a dead oak. They pierced in as Saj was slammed against the tree, he was pinned and held high above the ground. Saj struggled and pulled as the Cu’maru tormented him, pushing in bit by bit.

“You’re a wealp and a traitor Sajazar. You’re a weak little boy, afraid of the dark.”

While the Cu’maru was distracted, Yhora pulled another bomb off of her Bandolier without looking at it. She charged the Cu’maru and swund at its legs. He pulled away from the tree, and with the flick of his head tossed Sajazar into a heap on the ground. He shrieked and leapt at her. His claws cut deeply into her arms and legs. Yhora retaliated with a blunt swing from her tsuk into the beast’s face. The Cu’maru seemed unaffected, and wrapped his long claws around her neck, lifting her off of her feet and putting his face close enough to breath on hers. 

“And you. You were born for nothing. Your greatest gift was the chance to be absent when I enacted my will on your village, and you couldn’t even appreciate that. You should have lived your worthless little life thankful for your circumstances. But now you have acted against the way of things, so I’ll be sure to revisit the Albatross after I’m done with you.”

Yhora felt the rage billowing out of her eyes and into the sunken hollow holes of the Cu’maru. She felt the bomb in her hand, pressed up against her side as the beast squeezed her. Its nails began to cut into her skin. Then the beast’s body began to seize and it dropped her from its claws. A sustained bolt of black lightning fired out from Saj’s hands, electrifying the Cu’maru. He let out a billowing howl into the night sky as he writhed. The bolt faded as Sajazar’s arms grew weak, and the beast stumbled across the camp to regain its composure. It knocked over its tent and knelt down into it to get balance. Yhora loaded the bomb into her tsuk. She reeled it back. She threw. The whole forest lit up as the fire bomb ignited on top of Th’raush. He screamed and writhed as the inferno consumed him and billowed up into the sky. His skin hardened and cracked as he pulled into a fetal position and burned. The waves of flame shot up and were carried by the wind, then settled on the dry dead corpses of the trees in the Flesh Wound. The blaze spread across the forest.

Yhora’s white fire burned hotter than it ever had, for a split moment before it shrunk away and hid inside her again. But the fire in the trees did not, it only grew. It reached across into the healthy trees and began to consume them too. 

It wasn’t working, this had not set anything right. She thought as she watched the hellfire in front of her. This was it. She was cursed to live a life of errors, to live as fate’s plaything after missing her only chance. The meek white fire inside of her told her to kneel down in the ash as the real fire grew. 

But Yhora rejected it. She would change nothing by becoming fuel for the flame, it was her choices that had got her into this and it would be her choice to get out of it. Saj needed her help. Yhora ran to find him bleeding by the edge of the camp. He had been pierced through his armor in several spots, none vital, but he struggled to get up. Yhora hoisted his arm over her shoulder, then carried him as fast as she could away from the blaze, he limped to help her pace. 

She carried him out of the woods, the sun was nearly rising over Lake Sey’chey again when she got back to town. She took him to an apothecary and left him in the hands of a healer. He was not conscious to thank her for it, but that was for the best, she didn’t want to speak of what had happened that night to anyone. There were no eyes on the Cu’maru as it was crushed by falling lumber, the living Jaarekins fled into the woods, and the Flesh Wound grew that night.