A Run Through Ruin

    Flick raced down the corpse strewn street as quickly as she could manage, her hooves slamming into the cobbles as she dodged between bodies and debris. Mordren worked to keep up with the shapeshifter’s horse form, holding pace at her side.

    “You move fast for a lad your size,” Flick quipped, her mane streaming behind her. “I’d outpace you in an open field though, especially if I weren’t carrying this sad sack.”

    The burden in question clung to the horse’s back with what little strength he could muster. Sean’s arms and legs burned with the effort and all he could muster in response to the jibe was a yelp as his mount jumped a particularly large stone staircase jutting into the street.

    “No doubt… Miss… there would be… no contest…” Mordren choked out, his breath coming hard. Dodging around the masonry Flick had just jumped, the man’s shoulder barged through the remains of a fruit cart without slowing.

    Sean could see the workshop up ahead, the raw red glow streaming from its empty window frames visible at this distance even through the smog. They were almost to their destination with time to spare, thanks to Flick’s transformation and Mordren’s unnatural speed.

    The retainer’s quickness of stride had been a surprise to both of his fellows, an ability that the man had explained away as a perk of his former employment. Sean made a mental note to ask him about what other abilities Mordren might have been granted in his time as Aster’s guard captain but knew now wasn’t the time to pry.

    As the glow grew closer, Sean did his best to steel himself for the work ahead. The group would split up to search for the containment runes’ triggers. The command rune for the system was supposed to be in the shop foreman’s office, overlooking the crafting floor.

    That was where Flick and Sean would be headed, the woman insisting she stay with Sean to assist him with anything he couldn’t handle on his own. Sean’s condition was clearly worsening the longer they remained away from Aiane, even with his pact with Mordren mitigating the effect. He had to hope that his degradation wouldn’t end up causing a fatal delay.

    The second piece of the mechanism was the foreman’s amulet, which would be found on his person. Mordren had volunteered to split off, suggesting that he look on the crafting floor itself. He reasoned that it would be the most heavily damaged part of the shop, and thus best suited to his attention.

    In the end they’d all agreed with the plan - if the Foreman was in his office then the others would be able to trigger the containment without issue. If not, and his corpse was elsewhere, Mordren would have the best chance of shifting any rubble to find it and the easiest time making his way back up to the command rune.

    Around fifty yards out from the workshop, the fog pervading the lower levels dissipated abruptly. In its place, Sean felt the same prickling feeling from the first blast centered behind his pendant. Unlike the first time, it didn’t spread out from its place on his chest. Instead, the tingle sat there, bundled up, almost as if it was waiting for a reason to explode.

    As Flick jumped a final row of pushed up cobblestones, the street itself having buckled around the epicenter of the initial blast, Sean caught a glimpse of the ground beyond. There were no bodies this close to the workshop, just stains where people used to be.

    As they came down, Sean saw something else glittering in the ruby light. He tried to warn Flick of the danger, but there was no way for her to change course in midair. Instead of the safety of solid ground, the horse landed hard on a field of glinting, shattered glass.

    Flick’s weathered hooves were no match for the shards poking out of the shattered street. most were angled harmlessly amidst the stones, but all it took were a few pointing skyward to find purchase in the meat of her soles.

    With a scream, she went down, carrying Sean with her. He had a moment to wonder at how quick he was still moving before he too hit the broken surface. Sean rolled across the ground, grunting with every bounce, until he came to rest against the wall of the workshop.

    He opened his eyes and looked across the pavers at Flick. The horse, now a woman, was laying where she’d fallen. Sean watched in relief as she shifted, gingerly at first, and then with more confidence. She sat up and began to worry at the bottom of her feet as Mordren came up to check on him.

    “Are you alright, sire?” He asked, bending to look him over. The big elf brushed shards of broken glass out of his charge’s hair and clothes.

    Sean winced, doing his best to ignore a sharp, grinding pain in his ribs. Reaching beneath him, he pulled a piece of crystal as wide as his hand from where it was poking him through his cloak.

    Holding it up, he saw that the edges were slightly rounded rather than razor sharp as he’d expected. The stinging he felt at various points on his body made it clear that not all of the shards had been as well-sanded by the constant dust storms, but he thanked his luck nevertheless.

    “I’ll have to manage. If Flick had fallen on me I think it would have been much worse.” He looked over again at the woman, who appeared to be picking glass out of her bare feet.

    “Flick!” He shouted. “Can you walk?”

    “About as well as you, I’d reckon.” She yelled back.

    Mordren reached out to help Sean to his feet, eyeing the red patches that were slowly blossoming across his clothes. He glanced down at the timepiece in his other hand. “Sean, we don’t’ have much time. The run took around six minutes, so I would say we have fourteen more at the most before we should turn back.”

    “Even that might not be enough considering conditions have…” He shot a concerned look at Flick. “…changed. I’m going ahead to begin my search, follow as soon as you are able.”

    “Be careful, we’ll be right behind you.” Sean replied.

    Mordren pulled Sean’s spear from the loop it occupied on his pack and handed it over. Then, clasping his fist to his chest in a salute, Mordren hurried inside the workshop.

    Sean was grateful for the spear’s added support as he limped his way over to where Flick had summoned a strip of bright green cloth to bind her hands. Each attempt at a wrap brought a wince, and she looked like she was having trouble maintaining her grip.

    “Let me help.” He said, taking the makeshift bandage from her. The basic first aid lessons he learned during his brief stint in the Boy Scouts started coming back to him as he gently began to wind the bandage around her hand. Sean was careful to make it as tight as he could without completely cutting off the blood flow before tying it off at her wrist and moving on to her other hand.

    “We’ll need to wash these out when we’re back at the room.” He noted, looking at the dirty gashes across her palms.

    “Oh, aye, just a quick kip in and out of this shop of Aster’s first.” Flick hissed as Sean plucked out a piece of glass she’d missed. “No trouble at all, back before supper.”

    When he’d finished her second hand, Flick summoned two strips and handed one to Sean. They both began to work on her feet, both seeming to use the activity to avoid discussing the obvious elephant in the room.

    A short period of cursing and binding later, Flick was up. She and Sean leaned on each other and stumbled up to the workshop’s entrance. Sean’s pendant was buzzing, every few seconds adding more needles to the sensation at his breastbone.

    Together they stepped across the threshold and into the building’s yawning, crimson mouth.