From the Ashes: Broil (ch. 12) (Patreon)

The Fade was a dangerous place. It was as alien to the denizens of Thedas as Thedas was to the inhabitants of the Fade. Spirits and Demons alike. Unlike the people of the world, demons longed to enter the mortal realm because, despite the presence of magic in the world, the Fade was more connected to Thedas than Thedas was to the Fade. For most people, outside of mages, the Fade was simply a place that you entered when you fell asleep and had a dream before waking up.

For the Fade, the waking world was a place of endless fascination. It was a twisted mirror of the world -- a mirror that didn't understand what it was reflecting, but it tried to. It wanted to. It just didn't understand how Thedas functioned because reality was up to interpretation in the Fade. Here, emotions and thoughts were the rules of the world instead of things like gravity or matter.

It was for that reason I stood in a twisted alienage. Around me were twisted buildings that almost seemed familiar -- some buildings floated in the air, drifting above the possibly huge walls of the alienage, while other buildings sprouted other homes as if they were growths. The roads lead into the air, ripped up from the ground to create paths over the alienage and to the floating buildings, or they spun in spirals or they led nowhere at all. The wisps, the lowest denizens of the Fade, floated along the roads, basking in the emotions that bled into the Fade.

A mother and a child holding hands as they walked down the street, the child waving around a carved toy he had been allowed to buy with obvious excitement. Lovers leaning against the Vhenadahl tree next to each other, their hands intertwined. Or a couple shouting at each other behind a closed door but before a window, their words silent but their actions copied by wisps that didn't understand their meaning. A father on his knees, weeping as he knelt before a pyre.

Strong emotions left an impact in the Fade. The wisps were most free, basking in them and copying what they saw without understanding the context behind anything. They weren't the only onlookers. In theory, according to my memories, spirits should be attracted to the emotions that were like them. Spirits of Joy could be found where great moments of joy could be found. Spirits of Wisdom or Compassion could be found where wisdom or compassion were plentiful. But… I had yet to see a spirit.

Instead, every hour I spent in the Fade when I became so exhausted I couldn't push back sleep any longer… I found only demons.

"It's not too late," I heard an achingly familiar voice whisper in my ear. "We can still have the life that was meant to be ours. Here, in the Fade… what was meant to be can still be," Kallian spoke in my ear, wrapping her arms around me as she pressed her body against my back.

I didn't respond verbally as Kallian whispered in my ear, continuing on. "You can work down at the docks. Adam is so accommodating to a budding family. I'll become a seamstress -- a good, safe, occupation. We can start a little family… your hair and my eyes… your sisters will love playing as aunts. Your Grandfather will dote on our children and it'll drive your father right mad."

Kallian whispered the desires that harbored in my heart. To go back to a simpler time. A time when I had chaffed against the idea of just being another elf, but now I longed for it. A modest job. A modest family. No grander responsibilities beyond them.

"It's a nice dream," I admitted before I turned my gaze upward to the Vhenadahl tree. At the bodies hanging from it. "But that's all it is. A dream."

Kallian's shape began to shift, revealing the true face of the Desire demon as she rounded me, cupping my face between her hands and gazing lovingly in my eyes. She was beautiful and otherworldly with deep violet skin, midnight black hair, and she wore little. "You mortals are so attached to the ideas of reality and dreams. You would feel everything. To you, it would be real. What does it matter if it's not real to everyone else?"

"Because it would be a lie," I took her hands and removed them from my face. "No matter how tender or exquisite, a lie will remain a lie."

Desire removed her hands from my face, heaving a dramatic sigh that reminded me so deeply of Kallian. "And the truth is so much more preferable?" She asked me as the Fade began to twist. Demons of Despair made themselves known, crawling from the shadows as the scene changed. The alienage was burning. The guard were pouring in, hacking and slashing at every elf that they could get their hands on. I heard echoes for help. Ringing in the air, desperate pleas in voices that I recognized, screaming for my name.

Demons of Despair, as far as I could tell, didn't seem interested in possessing me. They, instead, chose to inflict as much harm as possible to make it easier for demons such as Desire to possess me. To break my will until I would just give in.

"The truth doesn't change just because you don't like it," I answered, watching as my family was stripped, butchered, then hung from the Vhenadahl tree. "it happened. I can desire that it didn't all I want, but it happened. For better or for worse."

"That," Despite whispered into my ear, adopting the appearance of my Mother. She rested a hand on my cheek, stroking it like she used to do when I was younger, "Is my point. The truth is a matter of perspective and belief. What happened in Thedas does not need to be the absolute truth. Let me in, Azoth. Just a small peek into your mind. With a small peek, I can create a new truth for you. A truth where your family is alive. You are married to the girl you love. A truth where you  and they are happy for all time."

Desire Demons, I found, were the hardest to fight off because they weren't malicious or cruel. Pride or Rage demons carried themselves with an air of expectation. Rage demons just wanted the world to burn, Pride demons played upon a person's pride and ego, but Desire demons sounded like they wanted to help. The desires that everyone had, no matter how ridiculous or futile, were offered by them. All you had to do was give in and you would have everything you would ever want.

"All the same, I prefer my truth," I told her, a cross expression on my Mother's face that she wore every time I was in trouble. "It gives me the strength to do what I have to do. With this truth, I will never falter. No matter how cruel or vicious I will need to be, I will not falter."

My Mother's visage faded away, becoming Nikka's as she wore her pout to make me give in. "It's so sad, Azoth. It's so very sad. The Fade can be whatever you wish it to be… but you chose for it to be this," Nikkia said, holding my hand as the real Nikkia was hoisted from the tree. "I just want you to be happy. You had such a lovely laugh."

I caught the eye of the man who Kallian attacked. His face was blank, completely featureless without even having a nose. The one thing I saw clearly was the cut on his cheek. I had been searching for the guardsman. All of the ones that had been there during the purge. I found a number of them, but Maric seemed to no longer be amongst their number. Frustrating. Incredibly so. Especially since there was a damn near whole generation of men named Maric after the late King Maric for liberating Ferelden.

"I'll laugh again one day," I told Nikkia.

"Perhaps tomorrow then," Nikkia said, looking up at me and giving me the sweetest smile before her appearance began to blur as I woke up.

…

I opened my eyes to absolute darkness, so dark that it was near impossible to tell if I had actually opened my eyes or not. My fingers twitched before motes of light illuminated the room that I was in, revealing it to be the hidey-hole in the sewers that I had made with Kallian. In the past four months, it had changed a great deal. There were more shelves, for one. Upon them were journals filled with information gathered by the rats of Denerim. There were also books of various types ranging from fiction, to historical accounts, to the nature of money lending.

Sitting up on the cot that I had brought down into the hidey-hole to sleep on, I rubbed my eyes, still feeling exhausted despite getting a few hours of sleep. I never managed to get more than three or four. A far cry from getting eight or ten like I used to.

The Keening Blade and Fang rested near the cot. On a table was a journal and a tome -- the one written in Qunlat. Above both books was a book on the language to help me translate it, but so far, I wasn't having a lot of luck. The tome of the Arcane Trickster was next to a journal that I had already copied the contents into. Next to it was a journal that I copied the contents of the Druid tome into. And, despite memorizing it, I did find more holes in my memory than I would like to admit.

"It should be around three in the morning," I muttered, looking at the sand glass I set up to help me measure time. When the pile of sand reached a certain point in a marked glass, I had a rough idea of how many hours had passed. Dragging a hand down my face, I cast Rejuvenation to wake me up and to clear the fog from my mind. Standing up, I drew upon my magic to begin practicing with it.

Merrill had shown me that I had a lot of natural talent with magic, but talent was worthless unless it was realized. My Stone Fist was serviceable, but it wasn't good, and the same could be said for the rest of my spells. My illusions, such as Minor Illusion, could be improved. The longer I looked at a Minor Illusion, the clearer it was that detail was lacking. A texture being smoothed out, a lack of a proper shadow, or something as glaring as details being outright wrong like a button not having a mark on it.

And, even while I sought to improve old spells, I desired to learn new ones. The spells from the Druid tome were proving to be an issue. I remembered the broad strokes of the book, but after months, the fine details were eluding me. That had been made very glaring when I began to copy the entire time into a series of journals and it revealed the gaps in my memory.

The Arcane Trickster was having similar issues, but because of something else entirely. I needed to practice on other people to improve my illusions. To learn the intricacies of spells like Phantasmal Force, which created illusions in people's minds so powerful that their minds treated them as real. While Fear conjured up illusions of the target's greatest fear, terrifying them. With spells like those, I was having a lot of difficulties learning without a target, willing or otherwise, and using random people in the street was far too great a risk.

Spells such as Blur or Mirror Image, I could practice, but in doing so would reveal that I was a mage. So, incredible spells, but not exactly useful for me. To that end, spells such as Silence or Greater Invisibility were right up my alley and they were spells that I could use. With them, I practiced what I could for as long as I could. Greater Invisibility was a marked improvement to invisibility -- the latter could be undone with a good hit or intensive action while the former was far more solid.

Once I was satisfied with several hours of practice with a wide variety of spells, I cast Mold Earth upon the wall and stepped into the sewers once again. I quickly made my way out of the familiar path after resealing the room, heading into the docks to find them in full swing despite the early hour.

The changes in territory were marked quite clearly, I thought as I strode past a building that used to belong to the Hounds and instead had a Ragger standing in front of it. The same for one of the dock piers that welcomed ships into Denerim, the dock was full -- both with merchants that wanted to take advantage of the Landsmeet because all the nobility would be in one place, and with nobles that were arriving.

"I didn't think they'd win that fight," I admitted to myself as I passed through the docks to enter the slums. In the three weeks that passed since the start of the short but brutal gang war, it had been made clear that the Raggers had gotten the better of it. The two gangs traded some territory, but the Raggers got the best of the deal. They controlled more of the slums, they moved into controlling parts of the docks, and they were stronger than ever. The Hounds, on the other hand, lost men, territory, and a lot of respect.

There were rumblings that the Hounds were planning a big take back, but I imagine the Raggers would be prepared for it when the Landsmeet ended and the guard went back to not caring what thugs were going so long as businesses were good. That, I decided, was no problem of mine. Let the two rip each other apart for all I cared.

I had my hands full with getting my newly acquired territory to rights. As I entered the slums, I was greeted with uneasy gazes from the humans that lived within my territory. They felt the change more so than the rest of the city. My Rabbits walked the streets openly with a confident swagger that wasn’t often seen. We took over the protection money rackets and charged humans twice what we charged an elf for living in that same building. Buildings that had either been owned by Ardan or Tanya, which was why we expanded how we did.

Humans were moving out of the streets and elves were moving out of the buildings in the alienage that we didn’t yet control. I don’t think there was any street in the city beyond our territory that had more elves walking about. I was greeted as I made my way through our territory, glad to see that the Rabbits were patrolling in force. The territory was too new for things to settle yet and this wasn’t one gang moving in and things staying the same just with a different gang calling the shots. There were mumbles of an elven gang that was getting uppity.

It would come to a head, eventually, but for now, things were good. The Rabbits could no longer boast that we had a hundred and thirty members, but I trusted the eighty that we had far more than the hundred fairweather members that had populated the gang before. Of that hundred, more than half decided to leave the gang. We got more recruits to stem the loss, but we gained fifty members that were willing and able to kill.

That was the cause of the looks that were being tossed at the Rabbits. The bodies that we made didn’t turn up in a ditch or back alley. They disappeared entirely and people noticed that we walked the roads that those thugs used to.

I made my way to the alienage, making my way through the busy streets. Denerim was always full to bursting, but during a Landsmeet, the city felt like it was going to explode from how many people were in it. It was a very harsh contrast in comparison to the winter months. The alienage gate was open, the lockdown lifted, and if anyone had been surprised about the number of elves that were still alive, then they chose not to comment on it. As far as Arl Urien was concerned, as far as I could tell, even starving the alienage wasn’t enough to keep the price of bread down.

“Azoth!” I heard Soris call out, standing before a building. An orphanage. His face was alight with a fierce pride, “You’re just in time! We looked everywhere for you! It’s done!” Soris called out to me as I entered the alienage. There was a small crowd gathered in front of the building that the final touches were indeed being applied. As I approached, he pressed a hammer into my hand, “You should have the honors.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, looking at the crowd that had gathered. It was mostly a bunch of children of various ages that were just barely kept in place by a number of elven women and men, the ones who ran the orphanage.

Soris didn’t need to think about it, “Of course! It wouldn’t be possible without you!” He decided, leading me to the building where the last board needed nailing. I stepped up a ladder, grabbing hold of the last board, and lined up the nail-

“Hey, Azoth-” I heard Shianni greet me just as I swung.

“Son of a nug-humping motherfucking piece of fucking shit,” I hissed underneath my breath, clutching my thumb that I just slammed with a hammer to see that it was just bright red, but I could feel the bruise forming. My hammer clattered against the stone road underneath me and despite nearly taking my thumb off, I kept the piece of lumber in place.

“You should have paid more attention to where you were swinging that thing,” Shianni informed me, her tone very helpful as she looked up at me. “It was crooked anyway. Raise it up a little more…” she said, completely ignoring my pain but I did as bid while one of my Rabbits walked over and handed me the hammer and the nail that I dropped. “Little more… a little more… perfect!” Shianni informed me and taking the nail out from between my lips, I started to hammer the corner of the board in place.

Taking good care not to smash my thumb again, I finished up quickly and stepped back to see my handiwork. There was some clapping from those that stopped to watch the last board get nailed into place. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar face as children brushed past me, slamming into the front door hard enough they nearly knocked it off its hinges. Sounds of excitement and delight reached my ears, managing to get a faint content smile out of me.

"It's a fine thing you've done, Azoth," Valendrian told me, the haren of the alienage. The closest thing the alienage had to a leader. Valendrian was an older man – elves aged gracefully for the most part, but Valendrian was clearly getting on in years. Wrinkles gathered at the corners of his eyes and mouth, worry lines marking his forehead, and I don't remember ever seeing the haren without a mane of gray. If it wasn't for how tired he looked, I would have thought he rediscovered elven immortality.

There was pride in his voice as he looked at the orphanage. The first building I was able to rebuild from the ground up. All new wood. All soft beds. And large enough to house a hundred orphans comfortably.

While there was pride in his voice, there was also pain. He never voiced it, but I knew his opinion well. Valendrian, for all of his life, fought to improve things in the alienage and find stable work for the elves that lived there. He took each elf that turned to crime to make ends meet as a personal failure. I think he felt worse about me in particular.

"It's a start," I told him, excitement leaking into my voice. "More buildings are coming. I'm going to look into getting the streets done too like they do in the noble quarter." Half the city has dirt roads, but I was going to make damn sure that the alienage never had to worry about mud again. It'd be a nice slap in the face to the rest of the city too.

Valendrian looked vaguely ill, "That would be… expensive, Azoth.  Could you really afford that?"

Right now? No, not a chance. Not between my other expenses.

Money was flowing into the Rabbits, but it was flowing out about as fast. The kickups helped, the protection money and income from the buildings we owned also helped, but it was hard to keep pace with how fast we were spending money. The fund I set up to ease the sufferings of the Alienage struggled to remain above water and even the eighteen sovereigns I had put into the fund depleted rather quickly. The Alienage was just a huge drain on resources in that perspective.

Even building a single building had cost me a rather pretty penny.

Rebuilding the alienage how I wanted to was going to cost me north of fifty sovereigns and even if I pinched every copper I could, it would still be years before I amassed such a fortune. As things were.

"I have something in the works," I told him, and it was the truth. The opportunity came with a number of… risks, but if it all worked out well then gold would start flowing through my fingers like water. With the money I got initially, I should be able to afford to rebuild the alienage exactly how I wanted to. Valendrian looked like he didn't want to know and was just going to take my word for it.

"It's a dangerous road that you're on, Azoth," he told me, and I already heard something break inside of the orphanage followed by a loud 'Sorry.' "I can't say that I agree with it, but I know there's goodness in your heart. Maker preserve you, Azoth. And may he watch over you as you have watched over us," Valendrian said, reaching out to place a hand on my shoulder. I could tell that he had more that he wanted to say -- to convince me to abandon the path that I was on, but he knew it was pointless. Dangerous or not, I was going to walk this path to the very bitter end.

I watched him enter the building that I looked on with some pride while Shianni and Soris stood next to me. I could hear the ruckus coming from inside as the elves that lost their families to this city to the point they had no kin left to call their own had a run of the place. When I looked out at the alienage, I could almost see how it would change. Cobblestone roads, tall, strong, proud buildings. Color. Lots of color. Soon, those walls meant to keep the elves in would be seen as walls to separate us from the common folk.

This was going to become the nicest part of the city. I-

Just as my hopes and dreams began to take shape, I heard a sharp whistle that made me still. My gaze snapped to the alienage gate and my stomach was tied into knots when I saw the force approaching it. Twenty humans clad in fine armor, far nicer than what you would find the average mangy guard wearing. They wore red steel plate with one even wearing Silverite by the look of it. The armor seemed to be made for them rather than sets that they had to fit into for hours at a time. Each and every single one of them armed to the teeth.

However, it wasn’t the twenty armed men that gave me pause. It was the men that were leading them.

Vaughan Kendell was impossible to mistake. Every elf in the alienage had learned what he looked like. He was handsome, irritatingly enough. Light brown hair, sea-green eyes, a strong jawline that had a neatly trimmed beard clinging to its sides. He had broad shoulders, and thick arms and his fine clothing complimented his form. If you knew nothing of him, you could be forgiven for thinking he was a halfway decent person.

He strode towards the alienage with a larger group than he could be usually be found with. Braden and Jonaley -- the sons of the Banns of Eastwood and Willowswail respectively. I imagine that their father wanted them to cosey up to the future Arl, so they fostered their children with Arl Urien. The additional two nobles, who were clearly nobles, were Darrien and Thomas Howe.

I knew as much because the rats had caught them grouping up together. Darrien was the son of Bann Loren of Pilgrim’s Path, who swore to Arl Urien. Thomas Howe, however, was the youngest son of Rendon Howe, the Arl of Amaranthine to the north of Denerim. I heard that the eldest son, Nathaniel, was sent to squire in the Free Marches in exile, so Thomas was the likely heir to the Arldom. He was young, thirteen or fourteen, and seemed completely out of place amongst the group of adult humans.

“Everyone, get inside. Rabbits, don’t do a fucking thing. No matter what they do,” I hissed as people began to clear out as quickly as they could.

Shianni bristled at that but I stemmed her protests by grabbing her wrist and squeezing. She met my eyes and the fire in them went out like it had been doused with water. “We,” I spoke, “aren’t ready for this fight.” The words tasted bitter as I said them, but they were the undeniable truth. We weren’t a match for the Blighters, a street gang. We were nothing before the nobility.

I watched the humans as they entered the alienage, Thomas looking around with a crinkled nose while Darrien seemed concerned and ill at ease. Vaughan, however, strode into the alienage as if he owned it. And, gallingly, he did.

“Well, well, well! Would you look at that!” Vaughan called out, a cruel smile tugging at his lips as he looked to the orphanage. “The rumors are true! The alienage does indeed have a new building in it. I never would have thought I would see the day,” he remarked, coming to a stop and planting his hands on his hips as he admired the building.

I could feel eyes going to me. The elves around me, even my Rabbits, looked to the floor, none daring to meet his gaze. Those that didn’t look to me, as did the bodyguards of the noblemen. Thomas hadn’t stopped crinkling his nose -- he had inherited his father's looks, it seemed. Mousey brown hair, a narrow jawline that had a few wisps of hair, and a face that could best be described as ratish.

“My lord,” I said, bowing differentially, keeping my feelings out of my voice. “We… didn’t expect to be honored with a visit from yourself, or these fine noblemen. Forgive us for not greeting you… appropriately,” I requested, thinking how I would like to greet him with a knife to the throat.

“Oh, I wanted it to be a surprise,” Vaughan informed with a laugh, his attention falling to me. That was good. Better me than Shianni or Soris. “One of the servants mentioned how the alienage was building a new orphanage and it sounded so damn delightful that I had to see it for myself.” He said, his words kind, but his tone was mocking.

“It looks like a sturdy building,” Darrien remarked, his tone mild, sounding quite unsure. “Good wood. It would be a fine place for the unfortunate to grow up in,” he said and, I honestly thought he meant it. It was a little surprising.

“It does, doesn’t it? Too good to be wasted on this lot,” Braden added, making Darrien’s lips thin but he said nothing in response.

Vaughan only had eyes for me, “I imagine you must be rather confused, knife ear. As to why to sons of Arls,” he stressed so we understood how important he was, “and the sons of some of the most notable Banns in Ferleden would waste our time with you. And this building.”

The thought did cross my mind. “My lord?” I asked, swallowing what I wanted to say.

“It’s a teaching opportunity! Thomas here,” he clapped the younger boy on the back and just about toppled him. “Is in need of a little guidance and you have given us a perfect opportunity for him to learn what happens to knife ears that don’t know their place.” My blood ran cold at that. Thomas seemed put out, though it stemmed from the idea that this was his for his benefit or he needed teaching.

At that, a handful of the bodyguards stepped forward, reaching into a pack of… of torches before striking a bit of flint to ignite them.

“My lord,” I started, not faking the panic that leaked into my voice, “we got permission form Madam Tanya to build the orphanage. My lord, there are children in there!” I said, going to interfere with the burning but I caught a backhanded by a red steel gauntlet for my efforts. Blood flooded my mouth, my lip splitting as my head snapped to the side.

I think, if it had just been me that said it, for all my power and influence in the alienage, I would have been gutted then and there. But I wasn’t alone, “Vaughan, this is extreme! Burn the building of you must, but let everyone else out!” Darrien protested, going to step forward but he was blocked by Braden and Jonaley. Thomas seemed uncertain, but he said nothing. His eyes darted to Vaughan, then to Darrien…

“Bar the door,” Thomas decided, his voice soft and pathetic as he gave the order. I could see it. I didn’t need to be able to read his thoughts to know that he was giving the order to fit in with Vaughan. The older human let out a bark of laughter as he draped an arm around his shoulders.

“That's the spirit! If enough of you rabbits had died during the winter like you were supposed to, then this wouldn’t be happening!” He shouted out as the bodyguards doused the front of the building with spirits after blocking the door.

I could kill them. The thought was ice cold in my mind as I looked at Vaughan in absolute horror, completely underestimating his depravity. It would cost me my life, but I could kill them. Stone Fist to crush the ones in armor. Create Bonfire to set them on fire. There were no templars here, but I could do it.

Only if I did, it would mean a purge on the alienage. The death of two Arl heirs? Three bannorn sons? The purge would be so great that I don’t think that there would be an elf left in the alienage. All of the nobility would make sure of it. But, doing nothing meant that half a hundred orphans would burn to death to satisfy his cruel whims.

The guards threw the torches and the flames swept over the front of the building that I had just built. A home for elves that had no one left in this world. I heard the confused shouting coming from inside, then the panic as it began to set in. The fire was spreading fast. Too fast. Everyone was watching the flames grow, every elf in the alienage dead silent as they watched with wide eyes. They did nothing. I…

I strode forward, brushing past the guard that wore the Silverite armor. The flames licked at my boot and I heard Vaughan laughing over the crackling of the flames as I unbarred the door, my hands burning from the flames while my eyes stung from the smoke. I shoved the door open to find that the fire spread fast. Incredibly so. The entire building was acting like a tinderbox because the flames already clung to the walls and spread across the wood floor.

Smoke filled the hallway that I pressed through, using my magic to control the flames that licked at my boots. Tears dripped from my eyes from the thick black smoke that drifted upwards, the fire crackling and popping in my ears. The shouting was getting clearer. My eyes went to the stairs to find that they were covered in flames and the source of the shouting was from the top of them.

“Help! Help us! The building is on fire! Help!” I heard echoed from various voices, all of them young. My lips pressed into a thin line as I began to march up the stairs, using control flames to make my way up to them and when I rounded the staircase, I came face to face with a wided-eyed young boy.

“I’m here,” I told him, snatching the boy up in my arms. He couldn’t be older than five. I knew the layout of the building. Large dormitory rooms. Large for elves, at least. A room for boys, a room for girls, and downstairs was where they would eat. Nothing incredible, but it was simple enough. Emerging from one of the rooms was Valendrian, an even younger girl in his arms that was sobbing in fear.

“Azoth, what-” Valendrian began, but I shook my head.

“The whole building is going up. We need to get everyone out,” I told him, striding forward. There should be a window in each room. Going to it… I saw men bearing naked steel at the bottom of the window. They looked up at me with grim faces, not happy about what they were doing, but willing to do it anyway.

“How?” Valendrian breathed, and I wished I had an answer. I looked back, looking over fifty children of various ages -- some were even around my age. What could we do? I had magic, but I’m not sure I had a magic spell that would get us out of this. The fire wasn’t the real danger. It was the men that wouldn’t let us leave. If we left the building then we would be slaughtered.

I sucked in a slow breath and my mind raced. I knew the layout of the building. More importantly, I knew the layout of the alienage. I knew that there was a small, narrow, back alley and a building… “Knock out that wall,” I said, pointing to it as I passed off the small child to a teenager around my age. Smoke was beginning to emerge from the floorboards.

“With what?” I heard one ask, but I ignored him.

“Grab every sheet and blanket and tie them together,” I instructed as I began to hammer a foot against the planks of the wall. My foot bounced off the wall and I wished I had greater strength, but I didn’t. What I did have was magic, though. Making a snap decision, I used Control Flame on the fire, using it to spread up the wall that I was kicking. The wood began to blacken from the intense heat, reduced to charcoal, and my leg went through it with another well placed kick even if it did mean burns on my legs.

I kicked the other boards, making a hole, and I saw what I expected to. A window to the building across from us. To my infinite relief, I saw Shianni standing in the window, her eyes wide while Valendrian handed me the makeshift rope. Magic danced upon my fingers as I cast Rope Trick upon it, throwing it forward and making it shift enough that even with the poor through, it landed directly into Shianni’s hands.

“Go! Go!” I shouted, urging the children to cross the short alley. They were all afraid, but how short the gap was helped. We tied one side off on the bed, and some of the orphans leaped across the gap to get out of the burning building. The room began to fill with smoke before I heard sounds of panic coming from the other side. “Valendrian, get over there!” I shouted at him, holding the rope steady with burned hands.

To his credit, he didn’t think about it. He trusted me to take care of myself. He quickly crossed the short alley. I was about to do the same myself when I heard it. Through the crackling, through all of the smoke, I heard it. The sound of crying.

“Fuck. Fuck!” I shouted, letting go of the rope before leaving the room. In a very short few minutes, the hallway was completely unrecognizable. The hall was filled with fire, the walls covered with it, and the smoke pooled at the ceiling with nowhere else to go.

“I’m scared! I’m scared! Mummy! Mummy! I’m scared! I need you! Mummy!” I heard a young girl wail as I crossed the hallway, finding the floorboards treacherous. I shoulder-checked the door, reducing it to charred splinters before I entered the girls dorm.

“I’m here! Where are you?!” I shouted, squinting into the smoke in search of the girl. She wasn’t out in the open and it was hard to see. Fire emerged from the floor, smoke drifting up to the ceiling. The girl cried out again, screaming for her mother, and I found her through the noise. She was curled up into a ball in the corner, tears streaming down her face as she wailed for help. She actually flinched away from me when she first saw me -- light blonde hair, deep blue eyes. She couldn’t be any older than three or four at the oldest.

“I have you. I have you,” I told her, grabbing her and despite her fear, she latched onto me, wrapping her hands around my neck in a death grip. I sprinted for the door to find that the boy’s dorm had already been consumed with fire, partly due to me. My gaze went to the stairs, seeing that they were covered in flames and smoke. “I need you to take a deep breath for me,” I told her.

“But it hurts!” The girl complained, coughing for good measure.

“I know, but I need you to breathe and hold it for as long as you can, okay? Can you do that for me?” I asked her, striding towards the staircase and nearly fell through where the floor was burnt through.

“Are you bringing me to Mummy?” She asked me if she was here, then I’m guessing her mother was gone.

“I am,” I lied to her for her own good. “So, take a deep breath…” I heard her take a gulp of air before I made my way down the staircase. With my hands, I lowered the fire, letting me take three steps at a time, only for the last few stairs to give out from underneath me. I landed hard on the ground, the girl on top of me, and she screamed bloody murder. “You’re okay,” I told her, forcing my way to my feet and heading to the front door despite the danger.

A second later, I emerged from it through a cloud of smoke and flames licking at my body. I stumbled forward, collapsing to my knees in the dirt in front of the building and I held onto the girl as much as she held onto me. I took in deep and greedy breaths, my eyes wild as they darted around, searching for danger. Instead, I saw a scene that I didn’t expect to.

Vaughan was on the ground, knocked unconscious, and the bodyguards were about to rip into each other because Darrein was standing over him. Thomas looked to me, his eyes wide and despite everything, he was the one that looked afraid. It was then that I saw the looks on every elf in the alienage. All of them had murder in their eyes.

“We’re leaving!” Darrien shouted in Vaughan’s cronies' faces.

“You assaulted the heir to Denerim!” One of the bodyguards shouted. The one with Silverite armor. In response, Darrien punched him in the head, uncaring of the helmet, and struck him with such force that his helmet fell off. And, despite everything, I almost smiled when I saw who was underneath that helmet.

I found the reason why I couldn’t find Maric in the city guard. He had been moved to Vaughan’s personal guard. I didn’t recognize the man, but I knew the scar. It had healed well. A harsh slash on his cheek, a line through a scraggy beard. It made him look distinguished. Handsome, even.

I found him. I finally found him.

“You fools are going to burn down the bleeding city! You think he’s going to be Arl when the King hears of this?” Darrien shouted in Maric’s face, the man going an angry red as it took every ounce of his self-control to not strike back at the noble. “Grab him. We are leaving. Get the blasted fire brigade in here! Now!” Darrien began to bark orders with well-practiced ease.

“I just want to get out of here,” Thomas voiced his opinion and, of all things, that's what broke the stalemate. He turned and began walking away, taking his guards with him. That put the ones looking for a fight at a disadvantage, tipping things in Darrien’s favor. Darrien and his guard watched them go with an expression of disgust on his face while he shook his head.

The human noble looked to me for a moment, his mouth opening to say something, but whatever it was, he swallowed it down. Instead, he shook his head and said nothing before he began to walk away, following the guard that collected Vaughan.

I watched them go, the crowning achievement of everything I accomplished burning behind me. The girl clung to me, crying softly and it was only when the humans were gone that anyone dared to move. Soris dropped down to a knee next to me, examining my burns, but I paid them no mind.

“Soris,” I spoke, my voice low and sharp.

Soris met my gaze and he seemed taken back by what he saw there. “Yeah, Azoth?” He asked me, his voice holding an edge of fear.

“Have the families of those guardsmen killed,” I told him, my voice harsh and unyielding. If Soris was taken back by the order, then he didn’t show it.

“And the guardsmen themselves?” He asked me, not at all surprised.

“I’m going to deal with them personally,” I growled, looking after the men that entered our home and put it to the torch for no greater reason than they could. A vicious and cruel act that gained them nothing but personal validation and satisfaction. And as vicious and cruel as the act was, I would be worse.

Vaughan and his ilk would pay for this… and I knew just how.

After all, hadn’t I just lamented that I would need people to practice my magic on?