By sheer luck, Chloe made it back to base camp, panting, sweating, and ragged.
After the last Black Flame raid, they'd lost most of their gear. 'Base camp' now was little more than a barricade of wood planks in a heavily wooded stretch of forest. As she squeezed through into the hidden, dimly lit earth cavern beneath, she saw what was left of the crew. The past two weeks had been especially awful. They'd been whittled down to just thirty or so.
They hardly looked up as she came through. Then she noticed how dark their faces were—and how few of them there were.
"What happened?"
"Black Flame ambush," gritted Thomas, a Berserker—he'd been a football player at her college, once. Most of her crew had been students—it was how they knew each other. His burly arms were crossed. "They sent in a damned strike force. We took them down, but…"
He shook his head.
"Who?" whispered Chloe.
"Tommy, Eliza, Sammy, Raymond…" Thomas sighed. "It's just us left."
And Chloe's heart sank. But there was no time to dwell on it--a scout burst through the crack of an entrance, panting hard.
"Incoming!"
"Who is it?!"
"Don't know," he gasped, "he's got some kind of blocker on, but he's huge!"
***
He was huge. He was this hulk of a man, starkly handsome, with flat gray eyes. Just looking at him gave Chloe this nervous tingling feeling. It was more than the size of him—it was how he held himself. He had this air of quiet confidence.
"I can see you," he said. Chloe froze. "Come on out."
They did, slowly, creeping out of the bushes. They had him surrounded. Her mouth felt dry.
"Stay where you are!" said Thomas, but she could hear the quiver in his voice. He held out his axe as a warning. "No weapons.
He looked faintly amused. "No weapons," he agreed. "I'm not here for a fight."
"You with the Black Flame?" said Thomas.
The man blinked. "Right. The cult. No."
"Then... who are you?" whispered Chloe.
"I'm not from here. I come from up in Washington. The Luminous Faction. I run a Safe Zone up there," said the man. He held up his hands. "Do any of you know where the 'Gorge of the Elemental Winds' is? I'm a little lost."
They all gaped at him.
"Dude," said Thomas, sounding faint, "you've got to get out of here. It's not safe—go back! Go tell that Savage Sage, Neil Elliott's trying to summon a demon!"
"Neil Elliott?" The man sounded baffled.
"The billionaire. The douche with all those buildings with his name on them? All over Portland?" said Thomas. "You know—he runs that conglomerate. Elliott Corp?"
"…I've heard of them. They run that department store chain."
"They ran a shit-ton of other stuff too. They had their fingers in everything. After the Change started it became a Faction, that's the Cult of the Black Flame. He and his big-wig private equity buddies, they found some kind of alien treasure trove—they call it an 'Inheritance', or something? It's a bunch of these crazy Skills and Treasures from some—some alien Faction!"
"They gave a bunch of dangerous Skills to thugs and convicts," said Chloe, fists clenched. "Skills they use to terrorize the rest of us."
"I see."
"They've taken pretty much all of Oregon State by now," said Thomas. He shook his shaggy head. "You wouldn't believe some of the shit he's done. And his son Kyle's even worse. We made it out, barely. But we've still got family in there—look, that's not the point. The point is, it's not enough. He wants more. Now he's trying to summon this demon, and get its powers. If he gets this, we're all fucked! We're running out of time!"
Thomas finished breathlessly, desperate. The man looked skeptical. "…A demon?"
"A fire demon. It was the last thing Colin—that's our man on the inside—the last thing he sent to us," said Thomas gravely. "He caught a glimpse of the Skill Tome Elliott planned on using. Colin gave his life to tell us."
"…"
"Just please," begged Chloe, "At least pass it on. Tell them to come and investigate, before it's too late! There's not much time left—he went into seclusion like two weeks ago. He said he wouldn't come out 'till he bound the demon. It could be any day now!"
***
That was… a lot to take in, at once. A pretty wild story.
How much of it was true? They seemed pretty unhinged. That story seemed pretty unhinged.
And these were a bunch of Level 30s. Their idea of catastrophic was probably some Level 50 Monster.
And besides—he didn't know these people. At all. Whatever this was, he tried to tell himself this was really not his fight.
"Look," he said gently. "I'll let the Luminous Faction leaders know. I'm sure they'll send someone to check this out."
And he would send a tip to Reina. Just in case. "But I can't get distracted by this right now. About those directions—"
Just then, a boy burst through the trees. "Incoming!" he screamed. "Black Flame! They're—"
Zane heard a low hum drifting through the forest, coming from all around them, a tightening circle… Seconds later, he got a view of black cloaks edged red, drifting through the trees—in front of him, beside him. He craned his head and saw them behind him too. The stragglers gasped and bunched in all around him, turning to face the new threat.
𝕁𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕠𝕟 ℍ𝕒𝕪𝕖𝕤 (ℂ𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖)
𝔼𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝟛𝟠
ℂ𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤: 𝔽𝕚𝕣𝕖 𝕄𝕒𝕘𝕖
𝔽𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟: ℂ𝕦𝕝𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝔽𝕝𝕒𝕞𝕖
𝔹𝕒𝕟𝕖 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕣 (ℂ𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖)
𝔼𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝟜𝟙
ℂ𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤: 𝔽𝕚𝕣𝕖 𝕄𝕒𝕘𝕖
𝔽𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟: ℂ𝕦𝕝𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝔽𝕝𝕒𝕞𝕖
𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕨𝕟 (ℂ𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖)
𝔼𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝟜𝟛
ℂ𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤: 𝔽𝕚𝕣𝕖 𝕄𝕒𝕘𝕖
𝔽𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟: ℂ𝕦𝕝𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝔽𝕝𝕒𝕞𝕖
ℝ𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕕 𝕄𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕣 (ℂ𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖)
𝔼𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝟛𝟚
ℂ𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤: 𝔽𝕚𝕣𝕖 𝕄𝕒𝕘𝕖
𝔽𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟: ℂ𝕦𝕝𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝔽𝕝𝕒𝕞𝕖
On and on it went…
All Fire Mages? He'd never seen anything like it. And they were all humming the same low note. They all held out staffs like long obsidian rods, and black flames burned at their tips.
They weren't like Zane's fire at all. They weren't substantial; these were translucent, wispy, and strangest of all, they seemed to give off no heat.
It fascinated him—he didn't know fire could do that. Some Law was at work here, a Law that had to be of the Elemental Law of Fire…
The cultist at the very front—Wilson Brown—pulled off his hood. He was a thin man with a thinner face. He smiled.
"End of the line, you little rats," he said in a sing-songy voice.
Then he noticed Zane and frowned. "Who the fuck are you?"
"I'm just passing by. I need directions to the 'Gorge of Elemental Winds," said Zane, helplessly.
He had a bad feeling he was about to get sidetracked—and he hadn't even hit his first dungeon yet.
"The Gorge of Elemental Winds?" Wilson repeated. He looked at his buddies. His buddies looked back at him.
Together, they started to laugh, these shrill, high laughs, like hyenas.
"You want our Gorge, do you? Just who the fuck do you think you are?"
They started closing in on him. Wilson sneered. "Cat got your tongue? Get a load of this guy! Comes up all blanks! What do you have to hide, huh, skulking around Black Flame territory? Could you be… a Luminous Faction spy?"
"Spy?" cackled another cultist. "Just look at the size of that oaf! He's subtle as an ox! Who'd choose him as a spy?"
Oh bother. Zane scratched his head awkwardly. It seemed they were determined to make a scene.
"Who knows?" rumbled a third. "I wouldn't put it past 'em. They're fucking morons! Just look at that Savage Sage!"
Eh. He supposed he could be, at times—
"The man thinks with his cock! You see who he chose to lead his Faction? What a joke!"
They all started to laugh even harder.
"…"
"That bimbo Latina with the big ol' titties? Can't even blame him. If I got to tap that every night… ooh, look at the big man! Look how heavy he's breathing! That bimbo's your boss, isn't she? We struck a nerve, big man?"
"…"
As a matter of fact, they did.
Out of nowhere one of the stragglers gave a shout and ran for it. It was the burly one, cloaked in brown essence, this bowling ball barreling toward the lines. He must've thought it was his chance while the cultists were busy laughing at Zane.
He barely made it five steps before a blast of black fire caught him in the face. It burned straight through his essence. He went down screaming. Burning—another straggler, a blonde girl, gasped, "No!"
The boy rolled and thrashed, and finally managed to put the fire out. He didn't look singed at all. But he still stayed there on one knee, head hung, breathing shallowly. Like whatever had burned went beyond the physical.
***
Chloe knelt by Thomas's side, tears in her eyes. "No, no, no—you're okay. Get up, T. You can do this!"
Her voice shook even as she said it.
"Alright, alright," sighed Wilson. "If you insist. Fun's over! Let's clean up the trash, shall we? Start with the big one and work our way down. Gather your essence, fellas, this one might take a while."
They chuckled.
They started to hum, and their bodies burned black. Their humming rose to a fever pitch; black flame gathered on the tips of their staffs.
The big man just stood there, face dark, quivering slightly. The flames rose, bonfires streaming off the tips of each staff. Then the flames jumped to one another, sharing heat, linking up until they made one great black circle.
"Run!" Chloe cried. But there was nowhere to go, and the man was frozen, still trembling—from fear or shock, she didn't know.
Then the flames struck all at once in a torrent, this brilliant beam of black fire roaring through the air. It blasted the man head-on. She put her hands to her mouth. She almost couldn't bear to look.
He was just some confused neighbor who'd gotten lost at the wrong place at the wrong time. And he paid for it with his life—
Then the flames faded, and she choked off.
The man looked almost exactly as he had before. Only now he'd looked up, and his face was cold with anger. Pure anger, an anger so intense it made Chloe's heart skip a beat.
He didn't look harmed in the slightest.
The cultists blinked at him, faces slack. They looked exactly like Chloe felt. She couldn't understand what she was seeing.
"What the fuck? ….why aren't you burning?" said Wilson.
The man stayed silent.
"Who are you?" whispered another. At the same time—
"You're him!" she cried. "You're the Savage Sage!"
"…"
The moment she said it, it was like they all realized it at once. Who else could he be?
Only then did the cultists seem to realize just what they'd gotten themselves into.
Slowly, they started to back away. Wilson swallowed. He'd suddenly gone very pale. He tried on a feeble grin. "Look, man—uh. Honest mistake! We'll just, uh, be on our way—"
"Don't go," said the Sage. His voice was tight with anger. "You showed me your fire."
He raised a brow.
"Isn't it fair I show you mine?"