The flames had burnt away all sensation, burning hot enough to vaporize the flesh before Zaramir had even felt warmth.

  Had he been faster, had the Elemental not been so volatile, perhaps he could have made it out unscathed. Though, he’d known as soon as he’d seen that room for the first time, he wouldn’t be so lucky.

  He supposed at the very least he was thankful his arm was the worst of it. Burning alive was one of the least pleasant ways he’d died. Though perhaps an unstable Elemental‘s flame might be hot enough to destroy him thoroughly enough to finish him for good.

  Regardless of if that was true or not, he couldn’t allow it.

  The worst came after the Elemental was captured. That’s when the pain truly began. The ritual had consumed much of his energy. His body’s attempt to heal while ablaze only expedited his exhaustion, leaving little left for the Runebind to use when he was finished.

  As the muscle re-grew over charred bones, there were moments when there was no skin to protect it from the elements, hot air and dust grating raw flesh.

  He bit his tongue, pressing his head into the charred stone floor, to keep silent. The others couldn’t be awoken. He wouldn’t be able to fight them. They would both die, painfully, likely for good.

  His body burned hot, hotter than the elemental’s flame in a brilliant but momentary flash, acid squirming like leeches under his skin.

  That Faedamned poison.

  He took a measured breath. Spark this weak, it wasn’t easy to work with the poison, emotions taking fleeting hold of their oppressor, trying to stage a rebellion against this painful necessity.

  He regained control quickly before his body could remove the toxin, though his hold on it was thin. Having burnt his Spark down to nothing, it was already feeding on his body, but at least he had it managed for the time being.

  The worst of the pain having settled, he sat up.

  Corabelle was hovering anxiously near the edge of the room. Her skin shimmered in the shaft of light from the roof, the heat having reached even her.

  She seemed to relax ever so slightly when he showed her the amulet, a silent message that they were leaving, safe. But that relaxation didn’t last long as she ushered him back, quickly. Her eyes flitted fearfully to the others, dormant, elementals.

  The amount of magic that had come off the ritual, had likely begun the process of reawakening them. As he made his way back out of the room, he glanced at the dormant elementals. So long as they stayed silent, they would stay asleep.

  “I’m glad you weren’t too hasty with that spell. Thank you for your assistance.” He offered her words that he hoped would be comforting only once they were well out of danger.

  “But I didn’t do anything.” She didn’t meet his gaze, instead he followed her line of sight to his freshly healed arm, the last of his Runebinds finally darkening back to their original ink.

  Had the nearly destabilized Elemental been able to break free, her spell would have done nothing, not so much as startle it. If it destabilized entirely, the explosion would happen so rapidly, they wouldn’t even know they had died. The whole House wouldn’t be a moment behind.

  He knew she’d studied enough magic to know as much, yet she didn’t ask to go home. She didn't want to run. She wanted this House to have a fighting chance, even if there wasn’t one. If she wasn’t here, he might have just left this House to burn if things went wrong. His Runebind could teleport himself far enough away he alone would be safe. Though, without her, he might not have even bothered escaping.

  “Yes, you did.” He didn’t meet her eye as he stowed the amulet safely in his pack.

  He felt the House Master’s presence before he saw him. His Spark was dull compared to most Masters but he was loud, louder than he should have been, shrouding his real form in infusion potions.

  Vengürd stood in front of them in Alchemists’ battle gear, numerous potions around his waist. He stood with the arrogant confidence of a hunter proud to take down a fawn.

  Though he didn’t seem to be expecting them, there was a flicker of hesitation before settling back into his godlike confidence, “Apologies for startling you. I’m assuming you succeeded then?”

  “We did,” Corabelle gave him a sweet smile, though Zaramir could tell she too was clearly dubious of his sudden appearance. “Thank you again for letting me get the practice.”

  “They didn’t give you too much trouble?”

  Vengürd made a casual move for one of the potions on his belt. Even from here Zaramir could tell from the distinctive dark core that it was vapor incendiary, though what variety he couldn’t tell. He wasn’t here in some pathetic attempt at playing hero. He was going to make sure that they didn’t make it away with his secret.

  He was more of a moron than even Zaramir had thought. He didn’t know how dangerous his mistake really was when he let them up here in the first place. That arrogance was going to destory this House.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “They? Oh, you mean the rats? No, they ran right off.” Corabelle feigned innocence.

  Zaramir hoped Vengürd’s obvious attraction to Corbelle would be enough to blind him to her poor lies. In the best case, make him think they really did have no idea that the disaster inside was far larger than that of a student.

  “Hmm, I’m glad to hear that. I was afraid they might frighten you.” Vengürd’s eyes ran up and down Corabelle. Despite not having the energy to read his mind, the Master’s vile thoughts were painted across his every present smirk, writhing in those predatory eyes.

  But suddenly that look changed, as his eyes drifted briefly to Zaramir. Startled, a brief moment of fear was quickly eclipsed by fury. Even without reading his mind, Zaramir knew that he realized the truth.

  Zaramir wasn’t quick enough to react as Vengürd suddenly grabbed hold of Corabelle, yanking her against him with one arm. He pulled her just out of reach, crushing her against him as she struggled.

  Those enhancements, they weren’t just superficial as Zaramir had thought, he was strong, stronger than a new Faedemon. If this became a real fight, Zaramir wouldn’t win.

  He only had one option, “Let go of her. What in the hells are you doing?” His voice carried as much emotion as that poison would allow to slip through.

  “I had my suspicions,” Vengürd hissed. “But I was hoping I was wrong. How long have you been it’s captive?” He briefly glanced at Corabelle.

  He doesn’t know Corabelle isn't human.

  Vengürd wasn’t sensing his power, he was a complete hack. He only knew what he saw. Zaramir’s Runebinds. Which meant, Corabelle still stood a chance.

  “What are you talking about?” Corabelle demanded, as she fought against this grip. “He’s my friend. We’re from the same House. He’s just tutoring me. I'm not a captive. Get off me!” She was still trying to dissuade him, to let them both go, but Zaramir knew that wasn’t going to work. He wasn't getting away, but if she shut up, she might.

  “Enchantment. That’s your specialty then, monster.” Vengürd sneered. “I had figured you were holding her by force, perhaps some sort of Binding. This is just cruel, even for your kind.”

  Zaramir hardly heard his insults as the dark wisp of a shadow teleportation flashed behind Vengürd. A figure emerged from the large man’s shadow, climbing from the earth like the undead, before fully forming into a much worse threat.

  “Come now, dear friend. I thought we were above such insults.” Ailan smiled.

  Corabelle‘s knee buckled under her, the master catching her under her chest. Zaramir knew she recognized his voice. A vacancy filled her eyes as she retreated into herself, until she looked nearly dead, supported only by Vengürd.

  Ailan glanced at Zaramir then Corabelle, a painfully familiar look forming behind his eye, the same one he’d had in the Ruins of the manor.

  Panic tore through Zaramir, his control slipped. The poison thrashed, squirming his way through him as this body fought the force that had silently invaded, oppressing it. The parasite that had been eating his flesh and Spark.

  He doubled over as the battle made his way to his chest. The angry venom eating away at the beating muscle. His heart shuttered as the caustic mixture began to slowly dissolve the organ. The last reserves of his energy fought aggressively to compensate for the damage and heal, though it was painfully slow

  His mind wanted to shut his body down, let his Spark recover, allow his body to more efficiently fight off the infection, but he couldn’t let that happen.

  Drawing the last of his resolve, he forced the last of his Spark’s energy into quelling the poison. He just needed to stay conscious long enough to get them home. He wouldn’t allow himself to fall against Ailan, not again.

  Forcing himself upright, he found that Corabelle was no longer pinned to the House master. She had since been dropped, or maybe thrown. She was frozen, her eyes locked on Ailan.

  He’d been half hoping that she might fight, at least enough to let them escape, but he couldn’t fault her for this.

  Their only chance might be a distraction, “What did he offer you?” He questioned, barely concealing his strained voice.

  “I gave him ingredients and solved some other teensy problems this school was facing. What else would an alchemy House master ask for?” A grin spread across Ailan's face, as he answered in the Master’s stead. He looked like he’d almost forgotten Zaramir was even here.

  “Ingredients from the Faerealm. I’m guessing that is how this House gained its power.” Zaramir realized. That explained the Master’s impossible enhancement. “And what did he give you?”

  Ailan turned his full attention to Zaramir, giddy to tell his story, “Did they tell you that Botanical Studies was where they sent the most troublesome students? The ones that couldn’t even complete the most basic potions? No one even cared that they were gone. Now, well, the building is very dangerous. If students don't listen and wander in, it's their own fault if they don’t make it out.”

  Ailan traded student lives for simple ingredients and Vengürd was at the very least complacent. Zaramir knew he was stupid, but he didn’t think he was that evil, “You send struggling students to be his meal. You do understand that, right?” He turned his attention to Vengürd. Perhaps if he pushed him, he might implore whatever that incendiary was. Then they might have a chance.

  Pushing him seemed to be the right move, his fuse already short, he snapped, “You have no right to judge me! Alchemy was a joke, a hobby before I took over. My uncle’s school was little more than a camp for parents to send their untalented children who flunked out of every other discipline. Weeding out the weak to make way for the Alchemists who could actually make something of themselves, that--”

  Ailan silenced him quickly, “You don’t owe them an explanation. He’s just trying to get a reaction out of you. Best not to indulge bullies.”

  “Just kill them already. I have plans.” Vengürd’s temper quelled before Zaramir could make use of it, destroying any hope he might be of use.

  “You don’t have to be here.” Ailan replied, his false humor vanishing.

  “I think I’d like to watch.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  The sound of a strong spell being cast echoed across the fields. So loud that, if they had the ability, the students below would be able to hear it. A Shadowblade formed in his hand. While effective, it wasn’t efficient. This was for show, to scare them; to scare Corabelle.

  “Look at that, you did get to experience this one after all.” Ailan turned to Corabelle, raising the dark blade high.

  In that second, Zaramir saw something change in Corabelle. She didn’t flinch, she tensed. Then he heard it, the sound of new magic entering the din.