Snow Drift

 Fairburrow wasn’t exactly a hard man to find this time around.

The main chapel glittered in the sunlight. Intricately carved brown stone surrounded two wrought-iron doors at the entrance, with the faces of religious figures staring up toward the sky.

At least I assumed they were religious; I didn’t exactly pay much attention to those classes.

Fairburrow stood behind the wide-open doors, letting the multicolored light of the stained glass window shine on him. His face was impossible to read. None of that changed the disdain that came from looking at the man, dressed in his velvet and white robes.

Arthur stood between the pews, with lightning shimmering in his hands.

“I see the Headmistress couldn’t keep you for long, a pity.”

“She sure did try.” I walked through the open doors.

The main chapel was mesmerizing, with its stained glass windows that showed mosaic colors instead of figures. The actual chapel part felt bigger than every other building on campus to boot, with giant marble pillars, and intricate patterns carved into every single inch of the stone walls.

“We can end this, Fairburrow,” Val cut in. “Just leave and admit your crime, and we can all put this behind us.”

“Do you really think that’s gonna work?” I whispered.

“Not a chance.”

Unfortunately, Val was proven right with Fairburrow’s first words. “I could say the same to you, Ruby Everbit. Isaac chose to fight. Look at where that landed him.”

At least he admits it. That must mean we’re alone…

I looked toward Arthur. His expression was unreadable from behind, but his body language showed more than enough to go off of. “Did you ever bother to read Isaac’s research, Fairburrow?”

“Read the words of a sinner, a Prisma? As an inquisitor, such a thing goes against my duty to the gods.”

“A Prisma…” Arthur’s voice trailed off.

“Did they not tell you?” Fairburrow sighed. “I hate to tell you, Arthur, but your roommate was a heretic. I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I’ll let your father—”

“They told me.” Lightning crawled up Arthur’s arms. “I needed to hear those words from your lips.”

Bingo.

“I can’t pretend to have my father’s knowledge of the holy law, nor Isaac's quick wit, but what I do know is that Isaac was one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met. I’ve read Isaac's research. I can’t pretend to be able to verify half of it, but the Isaac I knew wasn’t evil, wasn’t a heretic, wasn’t a horrific sinner. Isaac was Isaac, and if you’re the person who murdered him, then I have no choice but to help take you down!”

Lightning flew inches away from Fairburrow’s face, shattering the stained glass. “Last chance to back down.”

“I see the apple fell very far from the tree, Arthur.” Fairburrow sighed. “Very well. The conversation with your father will be difficult, but doing the right thing is never easy.”

“Murder? Why does the ‘right thing’ always seem to come back to death?” I stepped forward. We had talked long enough. “Just be prepared to pay for your own sins.”

“I’ve been ready since the day I was born.”

I sent a typhoon in his direction. “Let’s go.”

Val and Mary split off in either direction between the pews. I let water drip from my fingertips as they both charged Fairburrow from either side, both aiming right for his throat.

Fairburrow grinned. His shadow disappeared into the floor as the two girls skirted by each other, hitting nothing but air.

“No you don’t!” With Gregory, with Isaac, with every single fight I’d fought since arriving in Vertana, I’d been forced to lock away half my colors. I glanced toward Arthur. It was a risk, but this was the man who had just chosen to back Isaac after learning for sure he was a Prisma.

I’d simply have to trust in Arthur.

“Arthur! Attack from the front! A lucky blast of yellow can blast Fairburrow out!”

“How do you know that?” he shouted.

“Experience. Don’t miss,” I said, right before diving into the shadows myself.

Gods, this lighting is going to make me puke. Between the flickering candlelight and the stray sunlight through the stained glass windows, the shadows felt soft and constantly kept phasing in and out of existence.

If Fairburrow noticed, it clearly didn’t affect him much.

I moved forward under the pews. Fairburrow shifted back. Once I was actually in the shadows, Fairburrow stuck out like a sore thumb, a pale imitation of a shadow.

Granted, that meant Fairburrow could do the same.

“Ruby? What the—”

I ignored Arthur as he blasted Fairburrow’s shadow with rounds of lightning, barely missing the mark each time. “You can’t hide forever!”

“Nor do I plan to!”

Fairburrow leaped out of the wall, twenty feet up, and snapped his fingers. The candles around us all burst like fireworks, flames consuming the wax as they grew stronger by the second.

“Watch it…” I know this attack. “He’s planning to throw the wax at you!”

That was the great thing about orange. Orange controlled fire, and if something happened to be attached to that fire, then there wasn’t much preventing it from flying along. Didn’t work for everything.

It sure worked for wax.

Fairburrow flicked his wrists, and the air turned orange. Molten wax flew off the walls in sheets, hung in the air for a second, then flew like needles.

Right toward Arthur.

“Duck!”

Mary’s vines wrapped around Arthur, shoving him to the ground as molten wax flew overhead. Nice save!

I leaped back out of the shadows under the third pew and shot out every bit of water I could. Water met wax two feet above his head as the chapel filled with steam.

Fairburrow laughed from somewhere in the clouds.

“Come out, coward!” I shouted.

“Blue?” He laughed. “Good, keep using blue.”

At least try to hide your contempt.

“I’ll use whatever color it takes to keep you down.”

“Will you now?”

That second, the chapel's doors all burst open, and Church guards marched straight in.

More inquisitors… I scowled. These weren’t the guards on campus, with the stupid, clumsy glorified spears and robes that had never seen real combat in their lives. These were the real deal.

The inquisitors stepped into the chapel one by one, all in rhythm.

But they didn’t bother to get any closer.

“Ruby,” Val had backed up against my shoulders. “That’s a ton of witnesses.”

“I saw that…”

So that’s your plan, Fairburrow. We’d been played from the start. Fairburrow didn’t have near the political power to simply call me a Prisma and get me arrested, and he knew very well that the school wouldn’t have the power to hold me.

Gregory was right about Fairburrow putting us in a corner after all.

“You have two choices, Ms. Everbit.” Fairburrow stepped down from the altar. “Come quietly and face your crimes, or show who you truly are.”

Mary quietly made a sound from the pews.

“At full power, the four of you probably win the fight.” Fairburrow went on, undisturbed by the guards. “I’d be a fool to say otherwise. You’re stronger than me, Ruby. You were much stronger than Isaac, and he has to have been the strongest infidel I’ve ever had the misfortune of facing.”

Gods, if only the guards could hear this. But between the collapsing chapel and burning flames, that was a pipe dream. “You talk about it like he attacked you.”

“Isaac made his choice when he became a Prisma, and that day he chose to attack the entire world.” Fairburrow shrugged. “But he wasn’t limited in what magic he could use, that was a foolish mistake of mine.”

So you gave us an audience. I didn’t particularly like our odds.

“What’s your choice, Ruby? Surrender, or show your true self to the world.”

Gods, I want to use a bit more black and smash his face into smithereens. But as I glanced toward Mary, I threw that idea away. This wasn’t Everbit, and Fairburrow wasn’t some white-wielding thief that used my show as an excuse to steal from kids.

“Why are you acting like that’s a hard choice?” I let vines curl around my fingertips. “My talks with Isaac were never very long. I didn’t have the chance to know him like I could’ve, but he was someone who cared, Fairburrow. Isaac was the person brave enough to try and change the system, he was the person willing to put his life on the line to do research that could’ve gotten him arrested. Isaac was the only prince brave enough to march into my room at midnight and proclaim his plan to save Prismas!”

I glanced toward everyone, getting nods from all three. “There’s a third option, Fairburrow. It doesn’t matter how many chains you bind me with, or how many minions you get to do the dirty work. We will fight you, Fairburrow, and we will win!”

“A pity.” Fairburrow let pale, nearly white flames consume his palms. “May the gods punish you for your sins.”

Fairburrow snapped his fingers, and the flames jetted toward us.

“Leave him to me!” I ran right into the flames, and dove in.

Water bubbles covered my body as his flames tried to push me back. Gods, these gotta be nearly as hot as my flames.

But they weren’t hot enough.

I sent a geyser out from my palms, smothering his flames into another sheet of steam as I stepped closer and closer.

“How are you—”

“You made a mistake, Fairburrow!” I grinned. “You fight Prismas. You fight scared, starving people forced to hide. Even the strong ones like Isaac had to fight alone.”

Fairburrow stumbled back.

“I don’t even need all eight of my colors to beat you, because I’m not alone.”

The two girls both leaped toward Fairburrow. Val’s dagger flew straight across his arms, while Mary’s vines wrapped around Fairburrow and tied him to the ground.

“Come and try it!” I flew up into the air with a bit of water. “Come on! You’re Fairburrow’s inquisitors, right? I’m right here for the taking!”

I circled around. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll make it easy.”

Smartly, not a single guard moved.

“I can’t believe I admired you.” Arthur walked up to the struggling man with a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Growing up, you always acted like a model of what the Church could be. How kind and humble it could be.”

“You traitor—”

“I didn’t kill Isaac, Fairburrow.”

I stepped back as Arthur spat in his face. This isn’t my fight to finish.

“You sinner! You protect the infidels, the gods won't be happy when—”

“I can’t say to know for sure what the gods will think.” Arthur pointed his finger at Fairburrow’s face, and let electricity spark around his palm. “But I know what I’ve read. We should be kind, we should help those in need, and not discriminate. The gods want us to all come together and build something better than what we could do by ourselves.”

Arthur leaned over Fairburrow. “You’re standing in the way.”

Fairburrow, for the first time since I’d met him, genuinely looked afraid.

I could see Arthur’s hand shake, right before he slammed a bolt of electricity into the floor, inches from Fairburrow’s face.

“Isaac wouldn’t have wanted you to die.” Arthur’s voice cracked. “Isaac would’ve wanted you in front of a jury, with his notes slowly released to the world page by page.”
Fairburrow didn’t answer.

I spun around, expecting the inquisitors to make a move, but not a single one dared to try.

“Come on, Fairburrow.” Arthur turned around. “It’s time for justice to strike.”

I looked up toward the sky. Sunlight shone through the broken stained glass, painting a kaleidoscope on the ground.

Not bad for a Prisma, right, Isaac?

I flipped around and followed the others. We had a lot of cleaning up to do.