Chương 86: Found You

In the early morning, the Lows were still steeped in darkness, the dawn fighting to pierce the perpetual smog. Chimneys rose through the clouds, dwarfed by the grey block-like factories belching soot and fumes even at the early hours. Further still rose the Spires, basking in the light of the morning suns. Tallest among them was Saint's Summit, jutting like a needle threatening to pierce the very sky. On one of its highest levels, a man leaned over a railing adorned with chiseled figures of the Saint.

His hair was pulled back, and his shoulders were broad under a lavish robe in blue and gold. His lips were pulled back into a smile that was slightly too wide, exposing two sharp canines in an unsettling grin. The sides of his face were marked by two trimmed sideburns. He had his thumbs and index fingers extended, forming a squared frame between his hands, which he gazed through with one eye.

"Hmm, so that's what's urging me down there," he said to himself.

"Those two seem quite promising indeed. The older one even looks familiar." From an open balcony door, a female voice called.

"Hun, what are you looking at? You're letting the cold in." A room was visible behind the glass doors, intricate furniture and globes fighting for space with half-empty bottles. On a bed made of oak with a mattress thicker than an arm, a woman lay in a scarcely revealing dress of silk.

"One of the pros of being a Blaze is the diminishing need for sleep. For us, the night has just begun."

"So do tell, what's important enough for you to wiggle your gaze from me," she continued. The man didn't look away from the distant city below but chuckled.

"Just some promising rats, crawling towards the summit. One is a little too cowardly, I believe I've met that one. The other hasn't accepted its nature. But no matter, it's something a little Blaze like yourself shouldn't linger on." A dove landed on the railing, cooing as it looked for leftovers. The man's grin grew wider, and for a split second his eyes lit with fire. The dove froze, and the bottles trembled within the room. The shadows swayed as if alive.

"By the Saint, honey," called the woman from inside.

"Are you trying to ruin the mood with all that intent?"

"Whoops, I got a little excited," the man answered and threw up his arms. The dove shuddered, its brittle bones cracking, and the feathers rippled and elongated. A hoarse call of pain and hunger escaped its beak while the creature morphed into something unnatural.

"Off you go," the man said with a carefree shrug of his shoulder, flicking a finger to send what remained of the bird down into the abyss below.

"You are so unserious," called the woman with a laugh.

"How do the unblessed even survive with you around?" The man swerved around and took a few dancing steps to the balcony door.

"That's the neat part, those that do are resilient and tough. Unfortunately, my dashing looks usually escape them." He threw his head backward and drew a hand through his hair in jest.

"Come show me that resilience you're so proud of." The man pursed his lips.

"Oh, Polina, what kind of man could refuse such an offer?"

"That's not my name, you idiot."

"Whatever." The kettle whistled in the kitchen. Wretch was already awake, lying in bed with bluish bags under his eyes, staring at the ceiling. Sitting up, he stumbled to the bathroom, splashing cold water across his cheeks. A squirm of his flesh ran from his neck up to his chin, and he suffocated a thought. He gave a glance at the disfigured reflection.

"We need to use these claws…"

"The nights are the worst, it's so silent, all I can do is wait and wait," he growled, tapping his claws against the running sink. He hissed between his teeth and stepped into the shower. Only when the cold water had made him shiver did the lingering feeling fade. He was taller now and just a little more muscular. It wasn't natural growth. When the urges grew ravenous, he had made a minimal change. Changing a single strand of muscle fiber. All of it in the shape of the Blaze, Vishnii.

It appeased, slowed, returned him some control, at least for the moment, and the thicker and stronger muscles were beginning to show, perhaps a valuable use of his flame. The problem was, he was running out of flame to give, for with each change, the whispers grew louder. The hisses and raving at the edge of his consciousness had grown from a distant murmur to that of conversations in the other room. In the morning light, he made a simple prayer. Let them come.

An hour later, the Richter Company left their home in the cold autumn morning, walking along the spiraling road that overlooked the city down below. Clouds hung low, and the humidity clung to their leather coats. They got to the elevator in silence, and when they arrived at the bottom, a carriage was already waiting for them, the driver drawing a thick coat around him. It had been two weeks since they began their routine of moving around the city. They had made a deal with a particular driver, much to his joy.

Despite zigzagging all over the city, nothing particularly out of the ordinary happened. Wretch had brought a book with him, The Complete Human Anatomy. During the last week, he had gotten more than halfway through.

"Let's go east today," Wretch said. They all got into the cabin as Edmund gave a nod with his hat towards the driver.

"Eastern outer wall, stop if you see a park or market," he said, and the man nodded. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work! They rolled away to the neigh of the two horses. Passing the inner gate, Wretch brought out a thermos, pouring coffee into four different mugs to pass around.

"This job is starting to get on my bloody nerves," Elenya said, taking a swig from the steaming cup.

"It's like we are doing nothing. It doesn't even seem like we are being followed," Wretch said, opening and closing his palm. Edmund yawned.

"They wouldn't go through all this for nothing. They want something to happen."

"But what?" Elenya said, disgruntled. The captain shrugged his shoulders.

"We just have to wait and find out. Remember the reward, however. Once this is done, I will book us for the next hunter feast. We can buy some new arsenal." Elenya's disgruntled expression evaporated, and she leaned back. She gave a deep sigh and, shockingly, revealed a tiny book from inside her vest. The other three looked at each other in disbelief as the giant woman flipped over the first page.

On the back of the book, silvery text read: The Great History of Nov Yanosk's Blessed Astrid had an expression like she had seen a ghost, and Edmund covered a smile with a gloved hand. The rest of the Richters exchanged glances. Elenya was unaware, her eyes glued to the page with a knitted brow in concentration. The carriage rattled over the cobblestone in the early morning. The time spent in the cabin day in and day out had made the space cramped, almost choking. Suddenly, Wretch froze.

Something flashed in his mind for a split second, the hair on the remaining patches of human skin standing straight. His flame trembled in fear, and even the horrors around it quivered. He felt it only for the briefest moment. A presence so hungry it felt as if being pulled into a maelstrom. And then it was gone. There had been a name, but it had escaped his unprepared grasp. He turned to gaze at the wooden panel. He had felt something grasp towards his neck.

A horror his mind couldn't handle, and instead it had smothered the feeling altogether. Am I going mad? He took a deep breath and sighed. He had to be careful, he felt. He was teetering on the edge of something, something he didn't want to fall over. After about an hour, it came to a stop, and they got out with their umbrellas as a trickle of freezing rain came from above. The previous clear sky was replaced by an expanse of grey. They were outside a park. It must have been one of the few outside the inner gate.

Long metal spikes, welded into a fence, guarded the space.

"We will be back in half an hour, get some shelter," Edmund said to the man sitting on top of the carriage before they walked into the park through a metal gate. Groups of trees grew in swaths of wet grass. The leaves were stark orange and yellow in anticipation of the coming winter. Wretch stood quiet, his claws tapping together, the rain dripping down his coat. The captain took a few steps to shield him from the rain.

"This is nice," Astrid said.

"Let's go for a walk, shall we?" The four of them walked along a winding path lined with cobblestone. Now and then, they came across a gas lamp, of which only about half seemed to be functional. The park did not contain anything more spectacular than small groups of trees and grass, but it was a good change of scenery. An old pavilion with worn benches, littered with delinquent carvings, stood on a small hill. They walked into it and sat down.

"What do you think, Astrid?" Wretch asked, licking his lips and refusing to sit. She took her gaze off the small park and the city beyond it to look back at him.

"What do you mean?" Wretch removed his hat and shook his head.

"You are definitely the smartest one here. What do you think we're here for?" Astrid looked back over the park.

"Well…"

"It has to be something only you can do, that's the first clue."

"The second is the order to move around town." She gave a struggling expression.

"I don't know enough, but if I were to guess, I would say that we are here to attract something. Or…" She stopped herself and rubbed her chin with a black-gloved hand.

"Or?" Elenya asked, cracking her knuckles.

"Or someone. And we simply are bait," Astrid finished. Elenya and Wretch both raised their eyebrows, but Edmund only gave another yawn.

"It's about time to head back. Don't want to be stranded here if the wagon ditches us," he said. Wretch gave a grim smile.

"If we are bait, I would like that big fish to show up sooner rather than later." They returned the way they had come, getting into the cart.

"Let's try west," Wretch said to the driver, and soon the wagon began to bump along the stone-inlaid road. Wretch kept still, keeping his hearing sensitive to anything that could happen on the outside. The bells of the spires and churches chimed, indicating the time to be eleven in the morning. Thirty minutes later, the carriage rolled to a stop again, and Wretch peeked out. A busy market filled with huddled pedestrians and stalls fought for space in a cramped square.

"Might as well take a look," Edmund said, and they got out. The smell was that of rotten trash mixed with half-spoiled fish. Despite that, the market was full of life. A hundred human souls bartering for food and clothes with what little coin they had to offer. Wretch glanced over at a stand filled with patched linen in washed colors of green and black. Astrid shuffled up to his side, inspecting the fabric.

She no doubt stood out in her dress, but any pickpocket would be out of their mind to try their luck with him and the others so plainly in sight.

"Are you making any headway to Fireling?" Wretch asked, trying to fill the silence.

"The sapling from the mist is growing strong, but that itself wasn't enough. I'm close, just another nudge, another revelation, but…" She was quiet for a moment.

"Wretchy," she said, casting him a worried glance.

"How are you?" A fly buzzed past his face, and he waved it away. A moment later, it got caught in a silken web at the corner of the stall, almost invisible in the gloomy light. Not one, but three spiders crawled forward to fight over the struggling insect.

"You know I don't lie to you, Astrid," he began.

"Tell me, it will soothe some of the pain. And maybe I'll learn something" Wretch pressed his hat down and sighed, letting his eyes trail over the shuffling mix of civilians.

"I'm struggling to hold it in..."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You were right, Astrid. You and the captain. Ever since that cage, I've been moving forward so fast, Now I'm not sure there is a way for me to stop." Astrid placed her hands around his arm.

"Go on."

"I've pushed my Flame too far, my mind too, suppressed the whispers as best I could, but I feel… t hat I'm about to change into something terri—" He froze in the middle of his sentence, his inhuman eyes growing wide. Astrid waited for an answer, for him to continue, but he never did. Finally, she looked up. At the sight of him, she stumbled backwards in shock. His face was twisted into a bestial visage of hunger. His two eyes staring at two men on the other side of the market.

A killing intent washed over the space, people stumbling as a name no doubt appeared in their minds. The two men carried faces he had vowed never to forget. He had seen them only once, but etched their features into his core. For a moment, the memory flashed of their sullen eyes through the bars of an elevator, rattling downwards as creatures twisted from his own flesh roared behind him. The only two masks that remained, the jailors who had seen him collect one gruesome injury after the other.

Even after this time, he had not forgotten, not in the slightest. The thing inside, the growing seed of madness, fear and anger, sang a rattling hymn of vengeance. This time, he sang with it. Their eyes found him, and slowly they grew pale. People yelped, others stumbled, the whole market turned to him. Wretch, Collector of Wounds, had finally found what he was looking for.