Just as I begin to feel stupid, the burly man, one of the few Sigiled, nods, stepping forward as he draws a machete. The volunteer seems abnormally capable compared to the rest of the people in this train car with me.
"You got it, sir. Linas Harrow, ex-member of the Bright Ravens."
I raise an eyebrow, only barely recognizing the name of a famous group of Hunters. Linas meets my eye as I follow up on the odd phrasing.
"Ex?"
Linas nods sadly, his eyes flickering outside.
"We were based in Blackstone..."
I rear my head back in understanding, an unsaid meaning passing between us.
"Very well. Let's get started."
Armed with my blade, I begin the arduous task of cutting into the steel that comprises this train car's structure. Linas joins me, but he is far weaker, and his Claymore, a 4th Flamme machete, pales in comparison to the Crimfere blade made by Earl. Tightening my jaw, I put my back and Ether into it, Honing the steel. It's a laborious effort, each cut requiring my full concentration. But I don't have any focus to spare, leaving me with several cuts and lacerations while I work as my gaze never strays far from the outside windows, vigilant for any signs of further threats.
However, as I continue to work, slicing open a man-sized portion of the wall, a realization dawns upon me. There might be a better option that could save us even more time and effort.
I stand up and move toward the connecting door to the next train car, cautiously pushing it open while the others work. I peer inside, assessing the situation in the adjacent cabin. If there aren't too many passengers in that car, we could potentially have them cram into our cabin, cutting off the last train car to reduce weight.
But the instant my hand touches the door, I remember something.
Aniwye.
Fuck. I'm so dumb!
I thrust open the door, discovering dozens more Sigiled, several of which are tackling a Crimlime to the ground, stabbing and shooting the shit out of it. I nod and wave to the people behind me.
"Come through here!"
Footsteps behind me tell me that they are listening, but the group in front of me isn't so happy to see that things are about to be even more crowded. One woman steps forth, her hand still coated with the sand of the Crimlime.
"We can't fit anymore and still fight. Keep back there!"
I shake my head, refusing her words.
"No can do. We enter here and cut off the last car; less will make it. Perhaps none. I need to get to the front, anyway."
The woman chortles, her shotgun on her back shaking with her movement. Then, her eyes focus upon mine. I simply grin back at her green fetters.
"And whose son are you? Lennon fucking Hull or something? Kid. Let the professionals handle this."
I squint at her. Can they really not tell that I have Ether or something? Or... oh hoho... Blodwyn... you're throwing them off, aren't you? Is that your Power?
"How much Ether can you hide?"
Blodwyn answers my question as I answer the woman's rudeness by walking at her.
"Gasp."
"Not afraid of you. And I ain't anyone's son on this train. I earned my place. Now step aside and listen to me, or... join the Crimlimes outside."
I can't help but grin even as she points her shotgun at me. Her voice shifts into desperation, tinged with the hints of fear I've grown to recognize. It's the trembling that's so obvious. She stares into my eyes as the shotgun barrel is placed against my chest. At this point, I have very little to fear from a mundane weapon such as this.
"You know what these things are!?"
Standing before her, I don't nod or shake my head; I simply grab the barrel of her shotgun with Blodwyn, tightening my grip so that the metal creaks.
"I don't have time for this. They were formed by the Prime's ascent to Godhood. We should know the result in... a few minutes. Now, Move."
I speak the last word with a leveraged Daydream, forcing her to bend to my will. I don't even feel the Ether in the air shift as it is hidden from Blodwyn's expertise. Without it, she would certainly be suspicious of something, but with it, the woman furrows her brows and stands aside. She probably would have listened anyway, but it never hurts to try new things.
"Good. Cut off the last train car when everyone is inside. I'll return after I'm done at the front to help fight these things."
Without waiting to see what the woman says, I proceed. Shouts harass me as I step forward, but they are so numerous I ignore them, making my way to the next door. I push past almost fifty people before I reach the door, entering the next cabin.
Inside is a similar situation, without anyone recognizable, and I rush past them, ignoring anyone who tries to stoop me like a buffalo in a porcelain store. I enter another train car, breathing a sigh of relief as I finally find some familiar faces.
Earl is crouched over a wounded Lennon Hull, pressed into the corner by all the bodies as a vigilant Abraham guards him. Bonfire is lounging beside them, smoking a cigar, seemingly without a care in the world. He is the first one to notice me, funnily enough, and smiles, pointing at me.
"See! I told you he'd be fine!"
Bastard... I Arbalest beside Abraham, surging forward in a hurry as I ask my request.
"Can you Daymare Aniwye? Please!? She needs help right now!"
Abraham shakes his head in bewilderment, stepping back as even Earl stops his work on Lennon. The genius raises an eyebrow before returning to his position of putting Lennon's inside back... well, inside.
"Aniwye? You mean your mom that's a demon?"
I open my mouth to refute him but quickly cease that thought and simply agree.
"Y—yeah! Can you Daymare her? She has a super powerful mind! I'm sure you'll find her quickly! But you have to do it now! She's in danger! The Prime is fighting literal Gods right now, and she might get caught in the crossfire."
Abraham nods, still confused but willing, while Bonfire beside him, who is drinking a glass of water, sputters as it slashes all over him. Both of us ignore him as he dries himself with his flame.
"Gods? What? Which ones? What the fuck? How do you know this? I thought you were sleeping."
I shake my head, trying to hurry this up. Earl twists around, gazing right at me with a knowing look. He knows I failed to save Edward. Wait... now he's blaming himself. I know that countenance. I've held it many times myself. Shaking my head, I concentrate on Abraham for the time being. There is only so much we can do.
"Hurakan and some other one! Please just hurry!"
The alabaster man shrugs and steps backward against the wall of the train, slinking back until he sits with his elbows on his knees. Unlike usual, he needs to sit for this. Going beyond two Daymares in a single day isn't easy for him. I can only assume this is far beyond his first due to his bloodshot eyes. Abraham shudders abruptly, then, his eyes roll back. As he does so, a concern brews within my mind.
Where the fuck is she gonna appear?
Aniwye is easily taller than the train, and her sheer weight will slow it down—possibly enough to get us caught in the sands. The tumbling and rumbling of the train is bad enough as it is down. If we fall into that crimson, we are not coming out. This steel coffin will crash, burn, and kill us all. Perhaps a few of us will make it out, but I doubt Earl will be included in those few.
Looking up, I find my only answer. Aniwye can hover by attaching her form to the ground with her Ether bolstered by her mind. I just need to give her room to do it.
"I'm removing the ceiling."
I say my statement and move, pulling Bonfire with me as Earl raises a pair of bloodied gloved hands.
"What? Relax. We are outspeeding the sands for now."
I nod to him, pointing above.
"Yeah. For now. What about when Vincent becomes an actual God? When his Wasteland gets even worse? Who knows how far this sandstorm will go? Plus, Aniwye might just crush us all inside this place. She's too big and needs room. And... there are things in the sand. Fucked up things I call Crimlimes."
Earl sighs, taking off his glasses for a moment as he rubs the bridge of his nose.
"Fine. You're right. I'm not thinking straight. Things are only going to get worse. Removing all excess weight and preventing any new weight is what will keep us alive. The Conductor is missing, so Elizabeth is the one running the train. But it's at its top speed. If they throw any more fuel into it, the steam engine will probably break from all the damage."
I thank him for his confidence and move on, climbing up a side of one of the walls, using the windows. Then, I start to cut into the ceiling as Bonfire hums a tune beside me, doing the same. While we work, Earl calls out to the people on the train.
"We are removing the roof to expel excess weight and move faster. No one will be thrown off or hurt in this process. Stay calm. If you have a Sigil, be prepared to help or fight should the time come."
As Earl speaks to the people, I look to Bonfire, the man now partially made of flame. His fingers sing of heat while he uses them to slice off sections of the steel.
"Why are you so cheery right now? So many people are dead?"
Bonfire shrugs, his index finger melting the steel as opposed to my cuts. The man seems completely uncaring of all this death and destruction.
"Everyone dies. It just ain't my time yet. Why fret over people you don't even know?"
I pause, staring at his flaming figure for a moment. Most of those in this cabin are Sigiled, and many are powerful, so they don't react negatively to Bonfire. Some probably even know the fiery bastard. Even still, he's quite radiant in such a dark corridor. Squinting, I give him a good look, but even his burning features are the man I know.
He cares about so little, but he's willing to burn himself to a crisp to protect the things he does concern himself with. Emmet Knox doesn't give a singular shit about whether or not humanity is alright. He couldn't care less if a million people died as long as they had nothing to do with him. I wish I could be like him. Truly.
But...
My eyes shift to one of the few Unsigiled in this train car. A child—at most eight or nine. Their big eyes shift left and right, bordering on shedding salty water from the sides.
I can't not care. There are many people I can push aside. The Outlaws, some Hunters, and most of the other races unless I know them. But children? They don't deserve any of this. They've never done anything wrong.
It just feels wrong. So so so very wrong. Maybe Johnny's grown on me. I don't think I was always like this. Or perhaps I was, and he brought it out of me.
"You're right, Bonfire. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't care."
The kindest psychopath I've ever met laughs, spitting out a phrase I never thought he was capable of. His hands don't stop even as he schools me, melting and cutting away large sections of the train. The windy velvet of the night sky is quickly revealed to us, and I feel the train grow a slight bit faster from the loss of weight.
"Life is long, a series of highs and lows. All seconds are the same. Not a single one is different from another. Death is simply the last second of life. Don't go burning your candle for those who wouldn't do the same, Wyatt. Soon... soon, there won't be any more to burn. And when you're out of fire... You'll be wishing you had more to burn."
Bonfire gives me pause. I furrow my brow, inquiring into the man's recent actions that speak of the opposite.
"What about in Blackstone? Why did you fight? You've gone out of your to help people before? You're talking like you don't want to save anyone."
I help him, ripping off the rest of the roof as the giant steel frame tumbles backward, crashing noisily into the sands behind us that are surging to catch the rest of the metal. Bonfire pivots, planting his ass on the side of the cabin, his flames dying down partially, even to reveal his fleshy countenance.
"Because you went. Don't you remember what I said? You're a part of the group now. I protect my own. Without me holding off a half dozen 6th Sigileds, that fight against the Angels would have been much more problematic."
Really? He fought that many? Why isn't he exhausted like the rest of us? I have Blodwyn to help me recuperate, but everyone else is basically dead on the ground from Ether saturation and exertion. Lennon is having surgery right this instant, Virgil could hardly take a single step the last I saw him, and the others are equally as bad off. And even with Blodwyn, I still feel like I've been kicked a dozen times and run a hundred miles.
But... Bonfire?
He's moving like he's brand new. Not a sign of exhaustion is on his flesh. Cuts, scrapes, and bruises are like tassels all over his face, not an inch uncovered. His arms and legs are the same, only suffused with his typical burns. I peer closer at the man, not believing his condition.
Insight blooms as my sight of Ether deepens, but I don't allow it to enter his body. I gaze only at his flesh, seeking his innards. He's almost burned himself to a crisp before.
And when I search deeper, I find crackling and wavy patterns of Ether within his flesh. They are unordered, chaotic, and almost... broken? The Ether swerves dangerously, crashing into his flesh and veins instead of moving smoothly through them.
Bonfire...
The repercussions of his Pyre are not inwardly noticeable. He's hurting himself inwardly, burning his insides instead of his exterior. Bonfire... I forget about his black fire. Combustion. He doesn't use it as much anymore, thanks to our insistence, but he must have pulled it out. It's the only skill of Ether I've ever heard of that doesn't build up saturation. Instead... it ruins his flesh, bone, and blood in exchange for those black flames.
I didn't even pay attention to him during the battle. No one really did. He was simply there, fighting to fight and protecting everyone without a word of thanks. He says he did it for me, but...
The way his eyes glance at the people in the cabin makes me think he isn't telling the whole truth. It's not indifference or suspicion; it's care.
I smile a tad, knowing that he's not as crazed as someone like Lenon.
He's a candle burning himself at both ends to warm those around him for just a little longer. I shift over to him, climbing carefully on the side of the train now that this car's roof is missing, and I pat him on the shoulder, ignoring the heat with my prosthetic.
"Thank you."
Emmet Knox twists his head curiously, gazing right at my face without pause. Then, he tilts his head, flicking a thumb backward at the ruinous sands on their way to devour us.
"For what? We're still probably going to die. Those things don't look too happy."
I chuckle, waving my hands as I feel a ripple of Ether fill the air—Abraham's skill.
"Can you hide that?"
Blodwyn answers me immediately, the word fully formed and comprehensible. I grin even wider at the realization that he's a complete mind now.
"Yes."
"For fighting. You're good at it. Damn good. Just take your own advice, okay? Don't burn that candle too much."
Bonfire laughs back at me, patting his chest.
"Who do you think I am, Wyatt? I'm Bonfire! I can't not burn! Haha! But seriously... don't worry about me. I've always known I won't live long. Ma and father both had heart defects. I'm sure I'm the same. Only a matter of time before mine wears out. Sigiled or not... we only got so much to burn."
I glance down at my chest, thinking of Death's Lantern that still protects my heart, the Heirloom hidden within my pack. But before I say anything else, a figure appears in the sky above us, only a few feet from crashing down and slamming into the train. At the same time, Abraham stumbles before falling unconscious in Earl's arms below.
Aniwye.
Blodwyn hid the colossal surge of Ether so that nothing would know of our location that didn't already, but she's so damn big that it might not matter.
I shout into the air, hoping that Mie is nearby as Aniwye falls to the ground, blue blood leaking from her every poor as sand falls out of gaping wounds.
"Mie! Grab her! NOW!"
A wave of Ether passes through the train, and I feel it caress me before focusing above. It gathers instantly, amounting to force the instant before Aniwye crashes into the train. Screams from below are rampant, but Earl is already on the task of calming the people.
Gritting my teeth, I help hold Aniwye from my precarious position on the train's wall with my hands raised far above my head. She's not heavy as the weight is shared, but my positioning is awful, making it far more complicated than it should be.
The door to my car is kicked open, with Kate's body helmed by Mie storming inside with Primrose behind her. I suppose Primrose is one of the few strong people not beside themselves with exhaustion right now, so I nod at their entrance.
"She needs help! Is there anything you can do?"
Mie inside Kate's body tilts her head, staring upward through their blindfold as she places her hands on her hip.
"I can try. Best I can do is hold her until we reach Gravecross. Should only be another few hours at this pace."
I nod aggressively, begging her to help.
"Please, then! I'll help deal with the Crimlimes if you can hold her."
Mie returns my plea with a simple nod, but Primrose finally pipes up. She glances around, not finding whatever she's looking for.
"Crimlime? What the fuck is that?"
I point at the sands and the damned creatures slinking in and out of the ruinous storm.
"The monstrosities coming from the sands? Made of red sand? Can turn incorporeal of sand? Strong? Fast?"
Primrose sighs and wipes her face with her hand before blemishing her scarf with her palm.
"Fucking damn fuck. I was hoping you'd give me a different description. Of course, there are other monsters in the sands."
Just as I begin to feel stupid, the burly man, one of the few Sigiled, nods, stepping forward as he draws a machete. The volunteer seems abnormally capable compared to the rest of the people in this train car with me.
"You got it, sir. Linas Harrow, ex-member of the Bright Ravens."
I raise an eyebrow, only barely recognizing the name of a famous group of Hunters. Linas meets my eye as I follow up on the odd phrasing.
"Ex?"
Linas nods sadly, his eyes flickering outside.
"We were based in Blackstone..."
I rear my head back in understanding, an unsaid meaning passing between us.
"Very well. Let's get started."
Armed with my blade, I begin the arduous task of cutting into the steel that comprises this train car's structure. Linas joins me, but he is far weaker, and his Claymore, a 4th Flamme machete, pales in comparison to the Crimfere blade made by Earl. Tightening my jaw, I put my back and Ether into it, Honing the steel. It's a laborious effort, each cut requiring my full concentration. But I don't have any focus to spare, leaving me with several cuts and lacerations while I work as my gaze never strays far from the outside windows, vigilant for any signs of further threats.
However, as I continue to work, slicing open a man-sized portion of the wall, a realization dawns upon me. There might be a better option that could save us even more time and effort.
I stand up and move toward the connecting door to the next train car, cautiously pushing it open while the others work. I peer inside, assessing the situation in the adjacent cabin. If there aren't too many passengers in that car, we could potentially have them cram into our cabin, cutting off the last train car to reduce weight.
But the instant my hand touches the door, I remember something.
Aniwye.
Fuck. I'm so dumb!
I thrust open the door, discovering dozens more Sigiled, several of which are tackling a Crimlime to the ground, stabbing and shooting the shit out of it. I nod and wave to the people behind me.
"Come through here!"
Footsteps behind me tell me that they are listening, but the group in front of me isn't so happy to see that things are about to be even more crowded. One woman steps forth, her hand still coated with the sand of the Crimlime.
"We can't fit anymore and still fight. Keep back there!"
I shake my head, refusing her words.
"No can do. We enter here and cut off the last car; less will make it. Perhaps none. I need to get to the front, anyway."
The woman chortles, her shotgun on her back shaking with her movement. Then, her eyes focus upon mine. I simply grin back at her green fetters.
"And whose son are you? Lennon fucking Hull or something? Kid. Let the professionals handle this."
I squint at her. Can they really not tell that I have Ether or something? Or... oh hoho... Blodwyn... you're throwing them off, aren't you? Is that your Power?
"How much Ether can you hide?"
Blodwyn answers my question as I answer the woman's rudeness by walking at her.
"Gasp."
"Not afraid of you. And I ain't anyone's son on this train. I earned my place. Now step aside and listen to me, or... join the Crimlimes outside."
I can't help but grin even as she points her shotgun at me. Her voice shifts into desperation, tinged with the hints of fear I've grown to recognize. It's the trembling that's so obvious. She stares into my eyes as the shotgun barrel is placed against my chest. At this point, I have very little to fear from a mundane weapon such as this.
"You know what these things are!?"
Standing before her, I don't nod or shake my head; I simply grab the barrel of her shotgun with Blodwyn, tightening my grip so that the metal creaks.
"I don't have time for this. They were formed by the Prime's ascent to Godhood. We should know the result in... a few minutes. Now, Move."
I speak the last word with a leveraged Daydream, forcing her to bend to my will. I don't even feel the Ether in the air shift as it is hidden from Blodwyn's expertise. Without it, she would certainly be suspicious of something, but with it, the woman furrows her brows and stands aside. She probably would have listened anyway, but it never hurts to try new things.
"Good. Cut off the last train car when everyone is inside. I'll return after I'm done at the front to help fight these things."
Without waiting to see what the woman says, I proceed. Shouts harass me as I step forward, but they are so numerous I ignore them, making my way to the next door. I push past almost fifty people before I reach the door, entering the next cabin.
Inside is a similar situation, without anyone recognizable, and I rush past them, ignoring anyone who tries to stoop me like a buffalo in a porcelain store. I enter another train car, breathing a sigh of relief as I finally find some familiar faces.
Earl is crouched over a wounded Lennon Hull, pressed into the corner by all the bodies as a vigilant Abraham guards him. Bonfire is lounging beside them, smoking a cigar, seemingly without a care in the world. He is the first one to notice me, funnily enough, and smiles, pointing at me.
"See! I told you he'd be fine!"
Bastard... I Arbalest beside Abraham, surging forward in a hurry as I ask my request.
"Can you Daymare Aniwye? Please!? She needs help right now!"
Abraham shakes his head in bewilderment, stepping back as even Earl stops his work on Lennon. The genius raises an eyebrow before returning to his position of putting Lennon's inside back... well, inside.
"Aniwye? You mean your mom that's a demon?"
I open my mouth to refute him but quickly cease that thought and simply agree.
"Y—yeah! Can you Daymare her? She has a super powerful mind! I'm sure you'll find her quickly! But you have to do it now! She's in danger! The Prime is fighting literal Gods right now, and she might get caught in the crossfire."
Abraham nods, still confused but willing, while Bonfire beside him, who is drinking a glass of water, sputters as it slashes all over him. Both of us ignore him as he dries himself with his flame.
"Gods? What? Which ones? What the fuck? How do you know this? I thought you were sleeping."
I shake my head, trying to hurry this up. Earl twists around, gazing right at me with a knowing look. He knows I failed to save Edward. Wait... now he's blaming himself. I know that countenance. I've held it many times myself. Shaking my head, I concentrate on Abraham for the time being. There is only so much we can do.
"Hurakan and some other one! Please just hurry!"
The alabaster man shrugs and steps backward against the wall of the train, slinking back until he sits with his elbows on his knees. Unlike usual, he needs to sit for this. Going beyond two Daymares in a single day isn't easy for him. I can only assume this is far beyond his first due to his bloodshot eyes. Abraham shudders abruptly, then, his eyes roll back. As he does so, a concern brews within my mind.
Where the fuck is she gonna appear?
Aniwye is easily taller than the train, and her sheer weight will slow it down—possibly enough to get us caught in the sands. The tumbling and rumbling of the train is bad enough as it is down. If we fall into that crimson, we are not coming out. This steel coffin will crash, burn, and kill us all. Perhaps a few of us will make it out, but I doubt Earl will be included in those few.
Looking up, I find my only answer. Aniwye can hover by attaching her form to the ground with her Ether bolstered by her mind. I just need to give her room to do it.
"I'm removing the ceiling."
I say my statement and move, pulling Bonfire with me as Earl raises a pair of bloodied gloved hands.
"What? Relax. We are outspeeding the sands for now."
I nod to him, pointing above.
"Yeah. For now. What about when Vincent becomes an actual God? When his Wasteland gets even worse? Who knows how far this sandstorm will go? Plus, Aniwye might just crush us all inside this place. She's too big and needs room. And... there are things in the sand. Fucked up things I call Crimlimes."
Earl sighs, taking off his glasses for a moment as he rubs the bridge of his nose.
"Fine. You're right. I'm not thinking straight. Things are only going to get worse. Removing all excess weight and preventing any new weight is what will keep us alive. The Conductor is missing, so Elizabeth is the one running the train. But it's at its top speed. If they throw any more fuel into it, the steam engine will probably break from all the damage."
I thank him for his confidence and move on, climbing up a side of one of the walls, using the windows. Then, I start to cut into the ceiling as Bonfire hums a tune beside me, doing the same. While we work, Earl calls out to the people on the train.
"We are removing the roof to expel excess weight and move faster. No one will be thrown off or hurt in this process. Stay calm. If you have a Sigil, be prepared to help or fight should the time come."
As Earl speaks to the people, I look to Bonfire, the man now partially made of flame. His fingers sing of heat while he uses them to slice off sections of the steel.
"Why are you so cheery right now? So many people are dead?"
Bonfire shrugs, his index finger melting the steel as opposed to my cuts. The man seems completely uncaring of all this death and destruction.
"Everyone dies. It just ain't my time yet. Why fret over people you don't even know?"
I pause, staring at his flaming figure for a moment. Most of those in this cabin are Sigiled, and many are powerful, so they don't react negatively to Bonfire. Some probably even know the fiery bastard. Even still, he's quite radiant in such a dark corridor. Squinting, I give him a good look, but even his burning features are the man I know.
He cares about so little, but he's willing to burn himself to a crisp to protect the things he does concern himself with. Emmet Knox doesn't give a singular shit about whether or not humanity is alright. He couldn't care less if a million people died as long as they had nothing to do with him. I wish I could be like him. Truly.
But...
My eyes shift to one of the few Unsigiled in this train car. A child—at most eight or nine. Their big eyes shift left and right, bordering on shedding salty water from the sides.
I can't not care. There are many people I can push aside. The Outlaws, some Hunters, and most of the other races unless I know them. But children? They don't deserve any of this. They've never done anything wrong.
It just feels wrong. So so so very wrong. Maybe Johnny's grown on me. I don't think I was always like this. Or perhaps I was, and he brought it out of me.
"You're right, Bonfire. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't care."
The kindest psychopath I've ever met laughs, spitting out a phrase I never thought he was capable of. His hands don't stop even as he schools me, melting and cutting away large sections of the train. The windy velvet of the night sky is quickly revealed to us, and I feel the train grow a slight bit faster from the loss of weight.
"Life is long, a series of highs and lows. All seconds are the same. Not a single one is different from another. Death is simply the last second of life. Don't go burning your candle for those who wouldn't do the same, Wyatt. Soon... soon, there won't be any more to burn. And when you're out of fire... You'll be wishing you had more to burn."
Bonfire gives me pause. I furrow my brow, inquiring into the man's recent actions that speak of the opposite.
"What about in Blackstone? Why did you fight? You've gone out of your to help people before? You're talking like you don't want to save anyone."
I help him, ripping off the rest of the roof as the giant steel frame tumbles backward, crashing noisily into the sands behind us that are surging to catch the rest of the metal. Bonfire pivots, planting his ass on the side of the cabin, his flames dying down partially, even to reveal his fleshy countenance.
"Because you went. Don't you remember what I said? You're a part of the group now. I protect my own. Without me holding off a half dozen 6th Sigileds, that fight against the Angels would have been much more problematic."
Really? He fought that many? Why isn't he exhausted like the rest of us? I have Blodwyn to help me recuperate, but everyone else is basically dead on the ground from Ether saturation and exertion. Lennon is having surgery right this instant, Virgil could hardly take a single step the last I saw him, and the others are equally as bad off. And even with Blodwyn, I still feel like I've been kicked a dozen times and run a hundred miles.
But... Bonfire?
He's moving like he's brand new. Not a sign of exhaustion is on his flesh. Cuts, scrapes, and bruises are like tassels all over his face, not an inch uncovered. His arms and legs are the same, only suffused with his typical burns. I peer closer at the man, not believing his condition.
Insight blooms as my sight of Ether deepens, but I don't allow it to enter his body. I gaze only at his flesh, seeking his innards. He's almost burned himself to a crisp before.
And when I search deeper, I find crackling and wavy patterns of Ether within his flesh. They are unordered, chaotic, and almost... broken? The Ether swerves dangerously, crashing into his flesh and veins instead of moving smoothly through them.
Bonfire...
The repercussions of his Pyre are not inwardly noticeable. He's hurting himself inwardly, burning his insides instead of his exterior. Bonfire... I forget about his black fire. Combustion. He doesn't use it as much anymore, thanks to our insistence, but he must have pulled it out. It's the only skill of Ether I've ever heard of that doesn't build up saturation. Instead... it ruins his flesh, bone, and blood in exchange for those black flames.
I didn't even pay attention to him during the battle. No one really did. He was simply there, fighting to fight and protecting everyone without a word of thanks. He says he did it for me, but...
The way his eyes glance at the people in the cabin makes me think he isn't telling the whole truth. It's not indifference or suspicion; it's care.
I smile a tad, knowing that he's not as crazed as someone like Lenon.
He's a candle burning himself at both ends to warm those around him for just a little longer. I shift over to him, climbing carefully on the side of the train now that this car's roof is missing, and I pat him on the shoulder, ignoring the heat with my prosthetic.
"Thank you."
Emmet Knox twists his head curiously, gazing right at my face without pause. Then, he tilts his head, flicking a thumb backward at the ruinous sands on their way to devour us.
"For what? We're still probably going to die. Those things don't look too happy."
I chuckle, waving my hands as I feel a ripple of Ether fill the air—Abraham's skill.
"Can you hide that?"
Blodwyn answers me immediately, the word fully formed and comprehensible. I grin even wider at the realization that he's a complete mind now.
"Yes."
"For fighting. You're good at it. Damn good. Just take your own advice, okay? Don't burn that candle too much."
Bonfire laughs back at me, patting his chest.
"Who do you think I am, Wyatt? I'm Bonfire! I can't not burn! Haha! But seriously... don't worry about me. I've always known I won't live long. Ma and father both had heart defects. I'm sure I'm the same. Only a matter of time before mine wears out. Sigiled or not... we only got so much to burn."
I glance down at my chest, thinking of Death's Lantern that still protects my heart, the Heirloom hidden within my pack. But before I say anything else, a figure appears in the sky above us, only a few feet from crashing down and slamming into the train. At the same time, Abraham stumbles before falling unconscious in Earl's arms below.
Aniwye.
Blodwyn hid the colossal surge of Ether so that nothing would know of our location that didn't already, but she's so damn big that it might not matter.
I shout into the air, hoping that Mie is nearby as Aniwye falls to the ground, blue blood leaking from her every poor as sand falls out of gaping wounds.
"Mie! Grab her! NOW!"
A wave of Ether passes through the train, and I feel it caress me before focusing above. It gathers instantly, amounting to force the instant before Aniwye crashes into the train. Screams from below are rampant, but Earl is already on the task of calming the people.
Gritting my teeth, I help hold Aniwye from my precarious position on the train's wall with my hands raised far above my head. She's not heavy as the weight is shared, but my positioning is awful, making it far more complicated than it should be.
The door to my car is kicked open, with Kate's body helmed by Mie storming inside with Primrose behind her. I suppose Primrose is one of the few strong people not beside themselves with exhaustion right now, so I nod at their entrance.
"She needs help! Is there anything you can do?"
Mie inside Kate's body tilts her head, staring upward through their blindfold as she places her hands on her hip.
"I can try. Best I can do is hold her until we reach Gravecross. Should only be another few hours at this pace."
I nod aggressively, begging her to help.
"Please, then! I'll help deal with the Crimlimes if you can hold her."
Mie returns my plea with a simple nod, but Primrose finally pipes up. She glances around, not finding whatever she's looking for.
"Crimlime? What the fuck is that?"
I point at the sands and the damned creatures slinking in and out of the ruinous storm.
"The monstrosities coming from the sands? Made of red sand? Can turn incorporeal of sand? Strong? Fast?"
Primrose sighs and wipes her face with her hand before blemishing her scarf with her palm.
"Fucking damn fuck. I was hoping you'd give me a different description. Of course, there are other monsters in the sands."
