Heroes to Hunted

My affinity burst forth from my body in a small explosion, knocking Vincent backward and giving my form a sweltering red aura.  Now that my body was a gateway to the pyres of Hell, a grand conflagration poured forth. It incinerated every bit of fog in its wake.

The destruction created a rain of black flakes. Each fell and swirled around the roaring blaze before settling onto the scorched hardwood floor.

I managed to preserve the clothing covering my lower half, but the portion attached to my upper body was reduced to ashes. In this situation, I couldn't care.

Even my phobia, though it coursed through my veins with a nauseating pressure, became negligible. My fears, my cynicism, my pessimism, all of the unnecessary; it burned away to nothingness.

The only thing left, the only thing that mattered, was my will to live, my unbreakable desire to complete my mission.

I cast my gaze on Joseph's unmoving body and made a promise. 'Dead or alive, I'm bringing you home.'

"What's this?" Vincent paced forward with calm interest; his sheath-wielding hand brought to his chin in contemplation. "If I'm not mistaken, you only arrived a few weeks ago. Three, I believe? So, when did you get an opportunity to learn pyromancy?"

Answering him was difficult. A dozen sensations had filled my flesh and mind, threatening my sanity with total sensory overload.

I managed a quick, snappy response through clenched teeth. "I didn't..." I stopped and hunched over, wrapping my arms around my throbbing stomach as if to hold myself together.

A welling of overwhelming energy grew within my body. The power detonated, transforming me into a living bomb. The release of energy was grand; it took the form of a dozen flaming strands akin to miniature solar flares.

"Woah, I suppose I should keep my distance!" Vincent laughed and took a few paces back. "It's odd, normally a fire mage of such capacity can control themselves. Did you skip training your aether control?"

Through clenched teeth, I strained a chuckle. "Training? I had none of that. It's my talent, I guess." The irony of a soldier with pyrophobia gaining a unique affinity to flame forced yet another laugh from my burning lungs.

"Is... Is that true? A talent? For fire?" Vincent stood motionless and expression agape at my assertion. For the first time since our meeting, his demeanor of condescending superiority had vanished. Instead, there was only shock.

"I-I can't believe it..." Vincent stumbled backward, coming to terms with the information. "You're saying you have an affinity for fire?"

"That's right," I affirmed and raised a hand toward him, swirling yellow flames enveloping it like a second skin. "But you'll find out all about it soon." I whipped my arm toward him. The motion stripped a wide scythe of fire from my skin, hurling it toward Vincent.

Vincent twisted his waist and leaned diagonally, causing my flame to pass just overhead. I expected him to dodge, but my gesture was more meant as a method of intimidation than an actual attack, anyway.

I'm not sure if it was the blaze enveloping me, but my blood boiled as a seething desire to rush Vincent, to end the pointless banter and, hopefully, his life, tugged at my mind. However, it took all I had to temper the flame.

I had to stifle its growth and keep my growing inferno from consuming the room. Beyond toppling the entire house over my head, I also wanted to avoid charring Joseph's corpse, who was a mere few feet away. There was a civilian in the mix, too, in regards to the woman in the cell.

If I were to act impulsively and attack, there was no telling the consequences.

Vincent continued, but his reaction wasn't what I expected. Rather than a face contorted by despair or fear, his was one of boisterous amusement. "That's... That's amazing!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with wonder and excitement. "Oh, how intriguing fate's machinations are!"

"Wha-What are you talking about?!" I growled, clenching my muscles tight to keep my affinity's turbulence from spiraling out of control.

"I'm talking about this! About you!" Vincent outstretched his arms, gesturing to me. "In a grand replay of tragedy and comedy, history is repeating itself!"

"Yet again, Ms. Vlad has chosen a pawn too unruly to control. One with the same desperate determination to survive. One with the same fire affinity, no less! Her ambitions of peace will end the exact same way...in cinders!"

"It's just too funny!" Vincent dropped his sheath and brought the newly free hand to his forehead, angling it toward the ceiling with a fit of unreserved laughter. "I... I can't wait to see how this all plays out!"

The floor and ceiling suddenly caught fire from the heat in the midst of Vincent's cackling. The flame's hunger spewed out gusts of blackened smoke, replacing the fog with a throat-burning carbon monoxide.

'Shit, I can't control it forever!' my eyes faltered, and my head throbbed sharply. The blood loss and wounding alone were enough to cripple me. Add in the chaotic, flaming helix that I struggled so hard to hold back; it was a miracle I hadn't faded from consciousness.

'I need to end it now!' is what I thought as my eyes locked onto Vincent. He had the same outcome in mind, albeit with a different means of arriving at it.

"Well, that's enough for now, don't you agree?" Vincent nonchalantly asserted while hoisting his hollowed cane and returning his rapier to its sheath.

"W..." I stopped, lost in confusion at his words. "What? What do you mean?"

"Why exactly, as it sounds," Vincent smiled. "I've developed quite an interest in you, so ending your life no longer seems prudent. Besides," he shifted his gaze to the huddled woman in the only locked cell's corner, "she's of no significance. We have plenty more." Vincent shrugged before turning toward the stairs.

"So you're running? After all the threats to end my life, you just...flee?" I inquired with a strained voice. It crackled from the smoke inhalation and exhaustion.

Without moving his body, Vincent swiveled his face toward me. He replied, "I suppose I am. You see, I've become invested in your story, Sir Sato. How you develop from here will be quite the intrigue."

"Will you rock the world at its foundations? Change it for the better? For the worse? Or will you die in pitiful obscurity?" his eyes flashed with a bright flicker of excitement. "Oh, how I long to find out!"

Another fit of satisfied and giddy laughter emanated from him before he turned away. However, for a brief moment, his voice returned to its ominous calmness. "Don't disappoint me, Sir Sato... It isn't often I allow an opponent to live."

"Allow me to live?" I scoffed. "I think you're giving yourself too much credit. I think this is the point where the tables turned," I finished by gesturing with my flames.

"Is that so? I'd encourage you to keep a more vigilant eye on your wounds, then, Sir Sato." Though I couldn't see his face, Vincent's tone gave away the smirk he must've held.

'Wounds?' I averted my gaze downward to see a flood of black mist pouring from my body's injuries. Though the fire had burned it away the moment of its exit, there was no mistaking it.

During the fight, Vincent's blood mist had crept into my flesh, filling my insides to the brim. 'What the hell did he have planned?!' I thought, alarmed.

"Care to tell me what you were planning, Graves the Coward?" I mocked as he motioned up the staircase.

He stopped, nearly out of view, and chuckled. "Graves the Coward...huh?" he paused, his voice becoming forlorn. "Quite a nostalgic way you've addressed me, if I must say... It's been many years since anyone used that title. Four hundred or so, if I had to guess."

'Four...hundred years?' I froze. 'But, the way Barik spoke... He made it seem like he was in the same war as Graves. Does that mean Barik's...'

Once again, the question popped into my mind. "Who the hell are you, Barik?" I mumbled to myself with growing suspicion.

"I bid you farewell, Sir." Vincent interrupted. Within a moment, he was gone. He dashed up the stairs and promptly retreated.

Now, my only company was reduced to the dead, the huddling woman in the cell, my massive slew of questions, and my flames. I fell to my burning hands and knees, unable to process everything. 'Vincent? Plans? Mist? Barik? What the HELL is going on?!'

The crackle of embers snapped behind me and my paranoia activated.

I shot skeptical glares in every direction, fully expecting a new surprise to dash out and confront me. However, there was nothing.

The only potential issue left, the three wounded guards, was negligible. All three were slumped over, unconscious or dead.

Yet, my victory provided no comfort. That's because, without the threat of death to distract me, all my woes and personal complexities came flooding back, including my pyrophobia.

I stared at my immolated arms with eyes widened in horror. Then, averting my gaze upward, I saw the ceiling had been consumed by a luminous blaze. Charred debris, smoke, and cinders dropped down, pelting my body.

Feeling the heat wrapping my skin, my breathing became uneven and uncontrolled.

'Get it off...' I shook my arms fervently.

'Get it off!' I panicked, thrashing my arms and even rolling into pools of blood, hoping the liquid would douse the flames.

When my efforts failed, full-blown terror took control. "GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!"

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