Capítulo 207: Burning Fire
I watch with awe momentarily as Bonfire trudges toward us in the distance with trembling steps. Only Johnny and I can see him because of the expanse between us, my eyes Tempered and his eyes golden like a hawk from his second Metamorphosis. I share a glance with him before looking at Heath. Johnny approvingly nods with a knowing smile.
I turn back to the wanderer as the dissipating fog finally vanishes entirely, leaving Bonfire's back placed against a backdrop of war far away, Nahullo versus Motherbound and Plagued as the Nahullo's Warmaster ordered. I push Ether through my body as Breakneck, Strugglers Defiance, Release, Daydream, Ironheart, and Strugglers Gasp all at once as my body breaks its limits.
Gaseous Ether still flows through me because I have not yet ended the Madness upon my legs, the limbs still chilly and knees bereft of skin. Moreover, I am not fully recovered Ether-wise from the fight several hours ago because of how close I was to the brink, so this is a bit risky to do with all my skills at once if this turns out to be some illusion. But I ignore all that as I grab Heath by the back of his shirt and rush toward Bonfire.
When I push myself to the edge, all my skills focused on one thing, I am nearly unmatched in the area. Right now, I care only for speed, and the ground vanishes under my feet as a screaming doctor yells for help,
"What thhhhhheeeee fuuuuuucckkk! Jooohhhnnnyyy!"
I smile slightly as I look behind me and see even Virgil struggle to keep up with me, a gap gradually developing between the two of us. My strengths are highly reliant on how much Ether I have to spare without turning into a puddle, and right now, I'm using it all as I see Bonfire struggle to even walk.
As I get closer and closer, I notice how bloodied and battered he is. Both his eyes are so black and bulged I'm surprised he can even see, and that's not to mention the large hole missing from his shirt with blood leaking out. Did he get hit by an arrow from Mislo?! How is he still walking!?
The more expansive than a mile gap is bridged in merely thirty seconds or so as rock breaks underneath simply from the power in each of my steps. I move with thunderous momentum and come to a shambling stop just a few feet before Bonfire as I calmly let go of my Ether. Well, as calmly as I can.
A hurricane of Ether comes from my lungs into the air straight above as weakness fills me. Still, I disregard it and push the disoriented Heath toward Bonfire.
"Take care of them!"
Heath takes a second to shake away the movement, which I think approaches the speed of a steam train, and moves to Bonfire. And just as he raises an arm to the pyro, the guy collapses.
"Okay, Bonfire, I need you---. Oh fuck. Wyatt! Grab--"
I'm one step ahead and grab the two on Bonfire's shoulders, keeping them from slamming into the sharp rock below. The first thing I notice, however, is the limpness and deadweight of Skychaser and the deadly amount of blood covering his body. My heart sinks with worry as I grab Blake as well, but that swelling emotion is momentarily paused as I feel her feeble breathing.
Taking gentler care of the living one, I place Blake on the ground, cupping her head with my hand. I can feel something familiar from her skin, however. Something that I wish upon no one.
Her skin is hot and cold, sweaty yet dry, bloody but anemic. The telltale signs of acute Ether saturation. I put my hand to her forehead to confirm and gasp at the heat coming from her head to my fingers as well as the simultaneous cold infiltrating my palm. She's going through the same thing I did in the Andreis Forest.
Fuck.
I look up at Heath and try to get his attention, but he shakes his head and focuses on Bonfire.
"Blake's got a bad case of Ether saturation, Heath. Really bad! You gotta help her!"
"One at a time, Wyatt. Bonfire is... I don't know how he's alive. The crazy fucker replaced his blood, or lack thereof, with fire. His organs are scorched to all hell. Use your Daydream to help Blake as much as you can while I try to stabilize Bonfire. Oh, and how is Skychaser?"
As my focus wavers, I start doing as Heath says, but his question on Skychaser makes me pause.
"He's... dead, Heath. Completely gone."
Heath merely nods, sorrow evident in his eyes as he cuts apart Bonfire's clothes to reveal a body covered in horrific burns that leave not a single inch intact. A sharp inhale comes from Heath, a doctor who has seen some real shit, and I turn around, unwilling to see anymore.
Instead of watching the doctor care for the burn victim who did it to himself to sustain his own life, Immolate being a risky yet powerful skill Bonfire mentioned developing during his time in Starkbluffs, I focus on Blake. And similar to how I helped Virgil all those months ago in Harmony Town, I delve deep into my mind, bringing out the dreams from within as I try to impose them onto her.
My Daydream concentrates on a world where the heat and cold stabilize. A world where the Ether in her body is expelled, allowing her to breathe smoothly.
I feel fierce resistance, as I did last time, but I push through. My mind is far more powerful now than it was back then, Ironheart practically nullifying the resistance. And once I break through the opposition, I feel her breathing ease, from laborious short breaths to more relaxed long ones.
She's not much better, but it's something, at least. I continue on with my Daydream for a few minutes, slowly helping her, before a shout calls me from Heath's side.
"Come here, Wyatt! Now!"
I spin rapidly, shifting my frame to sit beside Heath in a single moment as I take in Bonfire.
My eyes widen as I see how fucked up the wielder of flame is. His skin is so scorched it reminds me of overcooked steak, and the only part of his body not burnt is his face, which is smashed to all hell. His nose is barely existent, and his eyes bulged in bruises.
In shock, I ask Heath what I can do to help. But, unfortunately, it just doesn't come out that smoothly.
"W--what can I help with? He looks like--"
"He looks like he's already dead, I know. But he's not. Bonfire might not act like it, but within him burns a flame of ambition equal to or greater than Johnny's. If I didn't know he was born a street rat, I'd wager he's related to the fourth Prime, the Firebrand Keeper. But even still, he won't get snuffed out this easily. Use your Daydream to try and stabilize his heartbeat. I'm doing everything possible to keep his brain alive as I generate blood with Infusion."
I concentrate my attention on Bonfire, my Daydream going full force to try and save the man from such a grisly fate. If only I hadn't used all the Draughts Of Invigoration. If only Sacate weren't--. Don't think about it. Just focus, Wyatt. Don't let another die.
While Heath and I work on keeping Bonfire alive, Virgil and several others arrive, including Skyswain. The now most influential Bado alive kneels before her mate's corpse as she balls, tears streaming from her sharp eyes. Her sobs turn to whispered cries as I try not to pay attention to her in respect, but it is difficult not to do so.
"Y--you promised!? Why!? Chaser! You... W--we..."
I remove my attention from her crying as I do everything to keep this man alive, but no matter what we do, he only seems to get worse. His heart continues to slow, the organs keep shutting down, and Heath is strained to his limit as he goes back and forth, working from the heart to the brain, to the blood vessels, to the lungs, and everything in-between. Without the flame to burn, igniting life for power, he is fading. Fast.
Curses drip from my teeth as I push my Ether further, forgotten wisdom rekindling in my mind at this juncture.
Just as I enhanced Adrenaline Surge, indeed, I can do the same for Daydream, right? Of course, Sigil skills are far more complicated than ordinary skills, but... they are just that, skills. Applications of Ether that anyone with the right talent, experience, or aptitude can use.
"Beneath everything, there yet lies more. Limits are false and potential unreal, for exertion and obsession are all that matters in search of the peak."
Remington's words from his journal return as they spark an idea. I grab the gaseous Ether running through my body from the figments of Madness that I still have, wishing that I had more to use of the transmogrified Ether. And with that gaseous Ether, I take a deep breath, preparing for the worse as I recklessly force the Ether into the standard stream of Daydream.
My vision goes white, and pain blasts through my pupils, the destination for the skill, as I tighten my hand so ruthlessly I can feel skin break and blood leak. But I don't relent; in fact, as my vision fades, I begin to truly see.
My Daydream gains its own world, one within my mind, as I imagine Bonfire's body stitching itself together, the wounds disappearing step by step.
Pain wracks through my eyes, liquid dripping down that I'm unsure is blood or tears, yet, I refuse to bow. Heath can regrow an eye if I lose one or both, but he can't bring back the dead. No one but Death can, and even then, they are never the same.
All or nothing. Sacate became the fallen leaves for us, and I won't let his kindle go unburned.
So, I push the entirety of the gaseous Ether as my sight remains white, more and more pain ripping through my body. But I refuse to bow. This is my world. Within the bounds of my Daydream, I control what happens, and I won't let another die.
A deep gasp fills my body as I feel myself brush up against that edge of saturation for the second time today. My head screams with trembling anguish from the dense Ether. I keep increasing my limit with how often I come close to it, but it will always be there.
With gritted teeth, I take that nigh-endless bundle of Ether from my lungs with Strugglers Gasp and force it toward my eyes. The pressure of the Ether and the condition of my internals make more and more Ether transform into a higher state. I push this more tremendous amount of gaseous Ether toward my pupils, keeping the bundle of Ether from Strugglers Gasp in my head.
A moment passes with tenseness in my body as everything goes still before I feel something loosen, my vision returning as I see Bonfire's wounds stop deteriorating. Unfortunately, he's not healing like I wanted, but it's better than nothing. I share a glance with Heath as I keep this fragile balance going.
I'm unsure if this is a new skill or simply an advanced version of Daydream. Still, based on how Steam Strand Ether affects skills, I'd wager it's the latter but with an emphasis on speed, efficiency, and power. Those are the main points of the manipulation type, after all.
Minutes pass as my mind slowly starts to lose steam, and the pressure in my lungs continues to build. Strugglers Gasp is roaring to be released, the intake of Ether approaching my limit, but simultaneously, the harsher the strain, the more gaseous Ether that is made.
Gritting my teeth, I continue to push more and more of this higher form Ether into my pupils, splinters of ivory infiltrating my shaky vision as I watch Bonfire recover with Heath's aid. But eventually, the pressure in my lungs reaches a pinnacle, and it feels like my ribs are about to explode outward.
But instead of just breathing out the Ether like usual or expelling it through my hand with Explosion, I clench my grip on the handle of my sword as my vision locks onto Bonfire. And with that minimal preparation, I take that nigh-endless Ether and shunt it directly toward my pupils for Daydream.
If I can use the Ether to enhance a strike, it can certainly be used for my skills, right?
This thought barely even formulates as everything goes alabaster, the pain of Ether spiking far beyond what I can endure, and I lose consciousness, the shade taking me under, pulling me into a thoughtless dream.
******************
Agony in my temples brings me to a sitting position the moment I come to. Then, holding my head, I look around and notice I'm in a stationary wagon. The walls are damaged and rudimentary in their construction, but the canvas of the wall goes all around and blocks the outside from my sight.
Standing with a grunt as queasiness overtakes me, I try to manage the pain, but it is almost debilitating. At least it's mental and not physical. Whatever I did to try and save Bonfire must have backfired. Thinking of the man, I look around the wagon floor and see the unconscious pyro, who is faintly breathing.
I guess it worked, whatever I did. Of course, that, or what I did, was useless, and he would have lived either way. He still looks burned as fuck, bandages wet with blood covering his whole body, but the flame within still yet burns.
Pride froths at the man's insistence on survival. I never knew he had it in him. But, of course, everyone Johnny recruited for his rebellion is stronger and more talented than most. Still, even among them, Bonfire seemed powerful but relaxed, barely putting as much effort as everyone else. He jokes all the time, rarely taking things seriously, but it appears I underestimated his force of will. I never really gave him the respect he deserves. None of his did. When it comes to raw power and capability in a fight, I'd wager Bonfire is the second strongest in our group now that Sacate has fallen.
Because even with Heath and my aid, Bonfire making it to us with those wounds speaks volumes. That is not a feat of strength; it is a feat of endurance and will. I should know best, for I've done similar things like that time in the Andreis Forest.
I respectfully nod to the man as his chest rhythmically flows up and down. Then, seeing that Bonfire is fine and hearing noises outside that resemble voices, I stumble toward the canvas and push it aside, every step filled with a pounding in my skull.
Shining sunlight invades my pupils, making me recoil instinctively in response to the last time radiance invaded them. I step back slightly, but someone calls for me behind the curtain of white that blinds me.
"Wyatt! You're awake!"
The voice is feminine and overjoyed to see me. Blake? I thought she was injured with Ether saturation. I guess she recovered. How long have I been out?! That usually takes weeks to months!
Raising my hand to block the sunshine, I see her sitting on a log, fiddling with a pistol in her hands. I shimmy my way off the wagon as she stands to face me properly. I grimace as the headache stings me, putting my mobility off-kelter, and because of how she seems to act the same, her steps shaky and disjointed.
She speaks first as I struggle to form words, the spike in my brain eating at me. It reminds me of when I had Ether saturation, now that I think about it.
"You doing okay, Wyatt? You were out longer than me. Heath said you'd be fine, but it's been two weeks since you were awake."
I rub my face as her words make me pause. Two weeks? What the fuck happened? It felt like two minutes! After a few moments of staring at her awkwardly, her feet shifting back and forth, I finally spit out something resembling sense.
"Uh... I'm okay. Head just hurts. What happened?"
She shakes her head as she sighs, pointing to a nearby tent that I didn't notice at all. My senses seem to be heavily tunneled with this headache. However, now that I look around, I see a relatively large camp around me. A dozen or so tents are set up, and there are half a dozen wagons with several horses.
"You should go talk to Heath or Johnny, but we made it out of Starkbluffs and are on the way to the Vault. Unfortunately, I got whacked with a severe case of acute Ether saturation. Now I'm recovering for another month or so, even after taking a Serum."
Blake then points at me, her finger tapping me on my chest.
"But you, sir, are way worse off than I am. Had you not been such a freak, you'd have melted into a puddle weeks ago."
I raise my eyebrow at her as I shake my head in confusion.
"W-what do you mean?
Blake wraps her fingers around my wrist as she pulls me toward the tent with a red cross stitched into it. Her wading steps are stumbling, but so are mine, so we look goofy as we walk past, both of us struggling to stay upright, though my struggle is worse than hers.
"Something is up with you Graves, that's for sure. You had enough Ether in your body to kill Johnny before his advancement, according to Heath, and instead of dispersing it, you just kept it inside of you, pushing it into your head. Virgil managed to scavenge a Concoction during the fight and used it on you, but it wasn't enough to help you completely. We all basically had to cross our fingers and hope you'd survive. And you did."
Blake finishes lecturing me as we reach the tent, and within, I hear Johnny. Oh no. Oh, he's gonna be so angry.
I try to step back, but she yanks on my arm, both of us too weak to really fight.
"Oh, no, you don't. Get in there."
She then pushes me through the flapping canvas that acts as a door as I come face to face with Heath and Skyswain sharing a log on the floor, Abraham curled up as usual in the corner with both arms, and Johnny staring right at me.
"Well, well, well, look who finally decided to wake up after attempting to commit suicide?"
Shit.
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