Temperature's Rising In The Elvan Quarter

New Omaha’s Elvan Quarter burned! The quarter was made of low-density ‘suburbs’ formed from numerous spaced-apart miniature tree mansions. Even in this newly planned city, the elvan still needed a treehouse and adjacent gardens.

This sparse density did not lend itself to the spread of wildfire. But at least three houses were ablaze by the time Skott reached the neighborhood.

“What happened?”

It was otherwise a calm and cloudless night. Certainly, no thunder that could have sparked the fire had been heard from the hotel. The breeze was uncannily calm and cool.

Elvan jumped from their treetop bedchambers rather than fall victim to the flames. The fires ran vertically up the trees with surprising speed.

“What’s happening?” Skott asked the nearest bystander.

Small sparks sent another distant manse ablaze.

Skott looked around for a fire hydrant. Alas, that was a bit too advanced for this realm. What Aeirun did have was a fire brigade. They came marching in with ladders in hand shortly after Skott arrived.

An Earth fire crew would place the ladders on the burning ‘high rises’ and begin spraying down the towering inferno. Not so, here. The ladders were placed beside the brickwork roads as the crews stepped, barefoot, into the elvan-stye gardens.

A monotone chant began from the fire crew, as did some fluid arm movements vaguely reminiscent of tai chi.

Skott stayed back. The fires overwhelmed the winding stairwells around each tree-mansion first, discouraging heroics.

Rather than pull water out of a plumbing system, fire crews on Aeirun summoned it right out of the ground! Water trickled up out of loose topsoil like some schooltime diagram of evaporation. Rather than dissipate up into the clouds, however, the water pooled into orbs ranging from basketball-sized to that of your average Camry.

These teams of skilled hydromancers then maneuvered each orb over the fire’s hottest spots with their minds. The largest bubbles were sent skyward, over the burning tree-towers, and drizzled down upon the blazes. Medium-sized baubles were sent to drown the flames entirely, sizzling with steam as the fires evaporated a layer of water before being snuffed out. It worked with amazing proficiency and speed beyond even the quickest firefighters on Earth!

Once the fires were extinguished, the ladders were deployed. A burned-over treehouse was structurally unsound, so the crew peered into the ornately carved windows from the outside to confirm each house was clear.

“Whatever could have happened here?” Skott asked, surveying the scene.

The fires were relegated to the Elvan Quarter of the capital. The other wards were made with more standard rowhouses. Many were brick, but there was enough wood construction to get a fire going. Normally, that would indicate a targeted attack. Was someone singling out the city’s elvan population? They’d found no arsonists here, but with magic in this realm, they could be started from a distance.

While Skott trusted Lamora with his life, and Lucy seemed kind-hearted, he’d been burned by falling for the natural enchantment of this land the first time he arrived here. Visions of Vivian danced through his head, eliciting a spine-chilling shudder. He wanted to rule out every option.

Fire brigades had been deployed in short order. So there wasn’t some directive nor program against the Elvan Quarter from on high. It could still be some vigilante revenge spree against those Redeemers.

“One more!”

A cry went out. Another flame had caught a house previously thought safe. The tree went up. But with the fire brigades already present, a dousing was imminent.

“My baby!” some cry went out over the assembled crowd.

Ah, always something. Skott looked to the fire crews, and to the panicked civilians, then up into the treetop manse. A cry came from far above.

It would still take time to siphon water out of the ground. Meanwhile, there was a trapped child up above!

Well, time to do the hero thing.

Skott tucked in his shirt. He ran up the stairs before the flames could overtake them.

--

The interior of this treehouse ‘manse’ was in reality the common quarters of your standard mid-level government worker. This was a bureaucrat's dwelling. Skott wasn’t sure what he expected, given that this was, in fact, a new capital city constructed for administrative purposes.

Smoke filled the room fast as the fire raced vertically up the tree trunk. Skott lay low, searching through the smoke and smog.

Elvan sleeping quarters were located in auxiliary flanking trees on the larger manses. This house was much smaller, just one tree. A middle class tree-mansion, if you would. There were stairs leading further up. Likely to sleeping quarters.

Skott ran up these stairs, holding his breath to protect from the smoke. Cries grew louder. He was close. A closed door wouldn’t budge, so he rammed it down. Smoke had not yet gotten into here. It was a haven of fresh air.

A crib awaited. Skott checked it and found not an elvan—well, not just an elvan—a half-orc sat in the crib, screaming uncontrollably. Unlike the half-human Lucy, this baby had elvan parentage. It was obvious in the ears; while Lucy's were pointed, this kid's were basically stake knives poking out from the newborn's skull. 

“I know exactly what’s happening here,” Skott said to himself.

There was a crash from the main room. The fire had cut off their exit.

“If anyone’s in there!” a voice sounded from outside, over the roar of the fire. “There’s not enough water left in the soil to put out the flames!”

“Ah, well, always a catch,” Skott muttered.

He took the baby in his arms. Kid was light. Couldn’t be more than a few months old.

Smoke sat heavy in his lungs, forcing a cough. He had to get out of here, fast. The stairs weren’t an option. But there was a conspicuously placed window right in the nursery, here…

“Going to feel this one,” he told himself, then dived backwards out the window. Tree-manse windows had no glass, so it was just bursting through some thin, wood-woven framing. He had the kid safely in his arms and was fully prepared to take the brunt of the fall if need be.

How tall were elvan tree-manses anyway? He didn’t want to think about it. Before he hit the ground, though, his fall was broken by a bubble of partially-summoned groundwater. Everything smelled earthy within, but it succeeded in slowing him down enough so that he exited the other side and landed on the ground with minimal injury.

“Guh.” Skott managed, his clothes soaked. “Would’ve walked this off back in the day.”

Rescue personnel were all around him. They took the child off his hand and returned the brat to its parents: an orc and a highly-frightened elvan woman.

“It was the Redeemers,” Skott said. “Setting fires by magic. Targeting perceived turncoats. Maybe make it look like anti-elvan violence from the other species, use that to further rile everyone up. Too many fires for it to be a coincidence, and other perpetrators just don’t have a motive. Got to tell someone…”

“The Prime Ministress is en route to survey the damage personally!” said a firefighter.

“We happen to, ah, know each other,” Skott quipped.

Lamora was certainly trustworthy. And if elvan separatists were to blame for this enter-elvan violence, well, she had no reason to cover this up.

These kinds of guerrilla movements often spend more time enforcing order amdist their own ranks rather than their sworn enemy.

I really should have brought a history book along this time, Skott thought, as medical personnel attended to the crick in his back.