Several dozen miles away from Aura City, Vira flew between tall trees and over thick bushes, deeper and deeper into Gloomglade Forest. She paused as she reached a clearing and perched to rest at the edge of a small pond. The sky was turning dark, and her red glowing light reflected upon the still pond's surface.
The tiny fairy channeled her magic into the water, and slowly, her reflection fluctuated and changed.
"Sister Vira!" Aqwyn cried with relief. "Thank the stars you are safe."
"I've been trying to reach you, but the city—"
"It is veiled by a vicious spell, which seems to be fueled by radiating energies from a powerful magical eruption."
"The incident at the beach…"
"Yes, sister. As soon as I spotted the disturbance, the veil was drawn, and contacting you became very difficult."
"But I did receive your message, at least some of it, and I spoke to Dr. Clarkson."
"The doctor? But what about Spencer?"
"Spencer?"
Aqwyn frowned. "I told you to speak with him first and go to the doctor only if you couldn't find him."
"I'm sorry, Headmistress, that didn't come through. I only heard you speak the doctor's name. Who is this Spencer?"
"Spencer Kane is a prolific author of horror stories and an amateur paranormal investigator—though on Earth, there really is no other kind… Either way, he tends to incorporate many urban legends and strange conspiracies into his writings. If anyone in the city can give you information on what might be going on, it's him."
"According to what the doctor told me, the… spellcaster responsible for this, whoever they might be, has been on Earth for over four years. You should have warned me—"
"I didn't know, Sister. There were many claims of supernatural occurrences and supposed miracles on Earth, but none that I could find possessed any merit, and there were simply too many to investigate them all."
"That's why you sent me to Mr. Kane and Dr. Clarkson."
"Yes, I hoped they could provide some insight, at least until we figured out how to pierce the veil."
"And did you?"
Aqwyn shook her head. "I'm afraid not. The queen and many of the other fairies are too busy with their own duties to be of help at this time, though I've requisitioned their aid, and they'll come as soon as they're able."
"Can you really not pierce through the veil yourself?" Vira frowned.
"I'm sorry, Sister, this enemy is too well prepared, and I suspect they have even learned to absorb power from the souls of their victims," the headmistress' shoulders slumped. "Did you learn anything useful from the doctor? Maybe if I knew more about this enemy…"
Vira nodded. "This sorcerer uses a binding spell to make humans his familiars, then uses his magic through them to cause disasters."
"And those who die as a result… their misery and pain are used to fuel his power," Aqwyn paused to think for a moment. "Do you know how he contacts these humans? How he forms bonds with them?"
"No, sorry… but there is one thing that bothers me…"
"Speak, Sister."
"Why now? The sorcerer—if it is a sorcerer—has been around the city for four years. Why throw the veil only now?"
"Could he have spotted you? Did you cast any high-order spells that could have alerted his wards?"
"No, not that I can think of… only Personification, Beautification, and…" Her eyes went wide. "Nekoko."
"The illusionist woman?"
"I cast a high-order spell to change fate and get her to the city."
"But this was… it must have been months ago."
"I know."
"And you think the sorcerer has been scheming this plot ever since?"
"It's possible."
"But, Sister…" Aqwyn's face darkened. "If that's true—" the headmistress blinked, her eyes going wide in alarm. "Behind you!"
The scrying spell broke, and on the water's surface, Vira could see the reflection of the large shadow behind her.
As she turned, a flat metal plate smashed against her, knocking her to the ground.
The figure lifted the skillet high, gathering strength to pound it against the fairy once more.
Her light burned bright, and as the pan hit, she exploded with magical force, transforming into her human-form, and pushing back her attacker.
He fell on his back, dropping the skillet beside him, and the hood he wore slid off his head, revealing a skinny face and a receding hairline. He scampered up with a snarl and reached for his improvised weapon. On his hand, Vira saw the mark.
She panicked, her head pounding from the blow she had suffered, and she launched herself into flight, darting across the pond and into the darkness of the forest.
"Shit!" the skinny man yelled, and jumped into the water to chase after her, struggling to match her pace.
What am I doing? She gritted her teeth as she reached safely to the other side. I am a Sister of Chivalry, and he is the minion of my enemy. I shouldn't flee—I should capture him and get some answers! She looked around her, at the trees, the vines, branches, and bushes—and with her arms spread wide, she began channeling her energy into them.
The skinny familiar came out of the water, stumbling, shivering, and wet, but was determined to complete his mission. He stealthily snuck into the woods, following the red glow of the fairy, and smirked as he saw her back turned toward him. He closed in on her, then lifted the skillet up, ready to strike her over the head.
A branch caught his arm, and vines fell to wrap around his chest, neck, and torso, pulling him off the ground and causing him to drop his weapon.
He tried to wrestle his way out of the restraints, but a nearby tree smacked its branch into his face, stunning him, and bushes moved their thorn-ridden vines to entangle around his feet, then pulled, holding him spread wide like a star.
Vira turned to face him, her red light casting her face in sharp shadows, her irises glowing with anger.
"Whom do you serve, mortal?" she roared, her voice echoing monstrously through the forest.
He yelped and squirmed, panic in his eyes, struggling with his botanic bonds. But the vines only coiled tighter around him, and as he realized there was no escape, his panic turned to madness, and his face split into a wide grin.
"What are you gonna do, good fairy? Torture me? Kill me?" He snickered. "I ain't telling you shit!"
Vira frowned. "Then, you leave me no choice but to pull the answer out of you…" She channeled her magic and lifted her hand, aiming her power at his head.
He jerked back as he felt her mind press against him, stabbing into his consciousness like a hundred needles searching for a weak point.
"Whom do you serve?"
"You can't do this," he hissed, his face contorting in pain. "Good fairies are not supposed to torture people!"
"It only hurts because you resist. I will get the information out of you the moment your resolve breaks; it is just a matter of time… and pain. So, do yourself a favor—" she pressed harder, and he gritted his teeth. "And answer the question."
"Fine," he croaked. "I'll talk! Just stop—please, stop!"
"Whom," she maintained the pressure, for despite his words, he continued to resist. "Do. You. Serve?"
Something cracked within him, and a flow of energy sprung forth, pushing back the psychic needles. His face changed from pain to that of sweet release and ecstasy. "The woman…" he said wistfully. "Of my dreams."
Power surged from his mark, pushing Vira back, and flames erupted from his hand, climbing up his arm and spreading through his body, then through the vines to the branches, the trees, and bushes. Trails of steam rose from his soaked clothes and from the verdant trees as they dried, shriveled, and burned in an instant.
The man moaned as he died, but not of pain. Vira scampered away, coughing at the smoke, and the fire continued to spread, impossibly fast. Taking flight, the fairy burst through the treetops, gaining some distance before looking down. The flames were dancing with haste and intent, and it took Vira a moment to get past her shock and consider what she was seeing.
This movement isn't natural. She flew further, getting ahead of the fire. But where is it—her face darkened. Oh, no!
The slithering fire snaked toward a camping area, aiming to cut off the campers' exit.
Vira tightened her hands into fists. Last time you caught me off guard, and I could do nothing, she dived down toward the camp. I won't let it happen again!
***
The camps were in chaos as people scrambled to get their children and belongings out of the woods. The flames were closing in quickly, and the smoke began misting the camping area.
Mason held his two boys, one under each arm, as they coughed and cried, and ran with all his strength. "Take them," he handed them over to his wife. "Take them and go."
She grabbed them. "Where are you going?"
"There are others who need help," he yelled back.
"Mason!"
"Just go, I'll catch up later," he made his way back into the camp, following the screams and cries for help, directing whoever crossed his path toward the exit. All the while, the fire writhed between the trees, approaching ever closer.
"Help!" A young boy's cry made Mason turn his head, and he followed the voice. "Help!" He looked up. "Please… please, help me!" The boy was sitting on a tree branch, his back flat against the trunk, tears trailing down his cheeks.
"Damn it," Mason cursed under his breath. "You have to come down from there!"
"I can't," the boy moaned. "It's too high."
"How did you even—" he stopped himself; there was no time. "You're gonna have to try."
"But I'll fall."
"Then, I'll catch you," his face darkened as one of the branches opposite the child caught fire. "But you have to come down, now!"
The boy turned and began to slowly climb down, his arms hugging the tree, his legs dangling in search of a foothold. With his face contorting with effort and his grip strained, the boy barely held on as the flames spread, their warmth caressing, then biting.
The sting of the burn was unbearable, and he let go, screaming on the way down.
Mason lunged forward, catching the boy and falling to the ground with him.
"Are you okay?" the man asked, but the boy in his hands only cried in response. "You're okay, you're alright," he said reassuringly and got up. "Can you walk? Can you run?"
The boy nodded.
"Good," he let him down. "Hold my hand and stay close. We are gonna have to—" A loud crack cut off his words, and the tree creaked, falling toward them.
In a panic, Mason shoved the boy out of the way; then his world faded to black.
***
It was hours later and miles away that Mason opened his eyes. His wife sat in a chair near him, along with their two sons, all of them sound asleep. "Sophie…" he muttered, his throat hoarse and dry. "Sophie…" He reached for her, and the woman rose from her sleep.
She gasped. "You're awake."
"Sh…" he hushed. "Don't wake the little ones," he smiled at the boys.
She leaned forward and kissed the back of his bandaged hand. "I'm so glad you're alive." A tear went down her cheek, and he wiped it away with his thumb.
"Yeah," he looked at his feet. "Me too." He lay on a hospital bed, his left leg wrapped in a cast.
"The doctors said the burns aren't so bad and that you'll make a full recovery."
"How are you and the kids?"
"Fine, fine, we are all fine," she sighed, and tears filled her eyes. "When you didn't come back, I thought I lost you, and the boys kept asking me…" Her lips quivered. "They were asking, 'Where is Daddy? Where is he?' and I didn't know what to say; I just cried, and then…" she took a deep breath. "That agent said she found you down the road."
"Agent?"
"Yes, don't you remember?"
Mason tried, but it was all a blur. The tree had fallen, he lost consciousness for a while, and then… His leg was trapped, flesh burning. He screamed and by instinct, tried to push it off, burning his hands too. He pulled his hands away, panic setting in—desperation, fear. Then a strange feeling of strength had come over him, along with a sense of resolve, and he pushed the flaming tree once more, hands be damned. He had a family to get to—he wasn't going to die here. He had pushed the tree off of him, only… only his hands weren't hands; they were paws—the powerful paws of a mighty bear. He had heard the crack of another tree as it, too, fell beside him, and he began running on all fours through the forest, on and on, until he reached the road, and then…
"I don't know…" he said. "My memory is hazy…" He chuckled softly. "I think I was hallucinating."
"Well, then it doesn't matter. I'm just glad you are here," she leaned further and pressed her lips to his.
He smiled at her.
"Do you need anything? You must be starving," she said.
"Parched," he cleared his throat.
"I'll get you something to drink," she got up, and went out of the room.
As she made her way through the hallway, she spotted a woman in a black suit standing with her back against the wall, staring at nothing in particular.
"Agent," Sophie smiled.
Vira snapped from her daydreaming. "Ms. Harper, is your husband alright?"
"He is conscious," she chuckled. "And thirsty."
"That's a good sign, I suppose."
Sophie put her hand forward. "Thank you, Agent."
Vira hesitated, then shook her hand.
"Thank you for bringing him back to me," Sophie said, then continued down the hallway.
Vira watched her go.
"Agent Starfield."
The fairy turned to find the doctor standing behind her, a concerned look on her face.
"If you are here…" Gabriel began. "Does it mean the fire was…"
The fairy lowered her head, and the doctor closed the distance between them.
"Two incidents, only about a week apart from each other," she whispered. "That's unheard of, Agent. We have to do something."
"Look at me," the fairy met the doctor's eyes. "How do I seem to you?"
She looked but wasn't sure what the agent was implying. Her brows were furrowed, there were bags under her eyes, soot on her cheeks, and her lips were pursed in a tight line.
"You look… scared? Angry? Tired?"
"All of the above," she said. "I have more power and resources than you do—vastly more, believe me—and I can barely do anything… I was attacked today, and if you continue asking questions, then you will be attacked too. I can't protect you, Gabriel. I'm sorry, but I can't. I'm stretched thin enough as it is."
"There must be something I can do."
"There is, and you are doing it. Taking care of the survivors, helping them move on."
"I'd much rather prevent them from being hurt in the first place…" she sighed. "Is there really nothing I can do?"
Vira thought for a long moment, rubbing her face. "Maybe, there is one thing… Does the name 'Spencer Kane' mean anything to you?"