Chapter Two: A Show Of Character

Samari came to Fryco to start a life; to get a job, meet some people, find out what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. What she did not come for was to have a bowl hurled at her face. Unfortunately, that's exactly what happened a few steps out of the shop.

Ducking to avoid getting pottery in her mouth, she began briskly making her way to the safety of a barrell. As far as she could see, there was only chaos. People throwing punches, bloodied shirts, a knife here, a person out cold there. It certainly seemed more ferocious than a simple mob fight, although she had never seen a mob fight.

Where are the armsmen meant to protect this area!? Did these ruffians take them all out? Are they occupied someplace else? Just how far does this go!?

Gathering up her courage, she counted to three before darting from behind her barrell. In a moment, she spotted an alleyway that was seemingly abandoned and headed there. She stumbled deep into it before trying to stop herself.

It was a pretty long alleyway that could have been a short street, but the tall buildings beside it made it rather dark, so much so that she heard the fight going on before she saw it. Her first thought was to turn and run, but something—or rather, someone—stopped her.

"Help me."

The voice was so soft and weak, she almost did not hear it. Suddenly, she realized what was happening: it was not a fight but people beating up some poor individual.

A spark lit in her that she had never felt before. A fierce determination filled her mind as she charged in, armed and ready.

She reached into the small pouch on her belt and pulled out her most valuable possession: ticon dust, a powerful concentration of a ticon element in a powder form.

The dust that she used was fire, extracted from the lava of Sleum. Just a sprinkle would set fire to most wood. All she grabbed was a few specks—any more would burn them to a crisp.

She came in through the shadows quietly, yet swiftly. A jolt from the man they were beating up drew their attention away long enough for her to do a quick count of them. Five. One was holding the injured man in front of him while the others lay hits on him with different objects. It was hard to see his face because of the blood pouring from his hair as he hung limply. 

When they saw her coming, she threw the dust around the group. The dust erupted in small puffs of flames.

Cries of surprise and pain rose up as the attackers threw their arms up to block their faces from the fire and smoke. Some of their clothes caught on fire, causing them to try to put out the flames in a frantic dance.

During the confusion, the person holding the man dropped him. As he fell to the ground, Samari rushed forward to catch him before he hit the stone.

This would have been a perfect battle scene with a great display of agility and speed had Samari actually had agility and speed. She did not have either, which was why instead of catching the man, she tripped over him and fell.

Still moving, she scrambled to help him up and get him out of there. He supported his weight as they walked, but his steps were uneven.

They did not get very far before the attackers sprung back from the chaos they were in. A twinge of panic shot down her spine as Samari let go of the man and turned to defend them. 

She knew she did not have a chance to defeat them, but if she could just stall them long enough for him to escape, it would be a victory. She put her hands up into fists to show her intent.

The biggest of them all came forward with a nasty grin of vengeance on his face. He threw a clumsy right hook, which she ducked under with ease. Grunting, he attacked again, and she dodged.

Getting serious now, he came at her with a series of hits, but years of evading drunk men and thieves left her able to see and dodge movements as fast as any trained man could.

Of course, he did not realize this and called on his companions to join him. One reached out to grab her while another tried to wrap his arms around her. She simply ducked away.

This dance went on for quite a while before they decided to all lunge at her at once. Sliding under them, she moved out of the way before they knocked their heads together, tangling themselves in a messy pile.

She looked back to see that the man had escaped during their fight. Sighing in relief, she ran out of the alleyway and into a large plaza.

The direct sunlight was blinding to her eyes that had adjusted to the dimly-lit alley. Once her vision cleared, she squinted to see that the chaos was even denser here than in the streets.

A Lunarian man stood towering on a stone platform in the center of the clearing. The vicious look in his eyes as he watched the battle told her all she needed to know: he was the leader. No one else seemed to notice the malicious intent rolling off of him in waves. It was strange how strong it was from all the way over here. 

What if it's not just intent? What if it's ticon? 

Samari's blood started to boil as she watched him. She had heard of the things that ticon could do, how it can manipulate and change any part of the world. How could someone be using ticon–the gift given to the dixons by the great spirits–for such evil? Someone had to stop him.

She gazed around, eyes scanning for someone who could help–an armsman, a mage, perhaps even a group of strong men–but she saw none. They were caught under his spell, raging like the beasts he wanted them to be. 

Something stirred in her, a mix of anger and motivation that she had never felt before. It was as if some greater being was spurring her on, pushing her towards him.

"Spirits, help me...defeat mine enemy that I see standing...among the thing you wish t–to destroy," she recited.

She took out her dagger, small and blunt. It was hardly a weapon, just something she could use in an emergency. Now seemed emergency enough for her.

Her pouch of fire dust opened as she slipped her weapon into it. The blade burned bright with flames, flickering onto her arms as they entrapped everything they touched. She bit her tongue to keep from screaming at the heat of it as she charged forward in fierce determination.

The battle all around made it hard for her to get through, but she ducked and squeezed, occasionally jumping off of someone or pushing another out of the way. The fire blade helped clear the way as people automatically backed away from the flames. She didn't stop until she reached the platform, leaping up onto it to face the man.

She screamed in rage and thrust her weapon forward to keep him at bay.

He looked at her, annoyed by her interruption of his glorious moment.  He attempted to invoke his power on her, but it simply passed around her. Sneering, he seemed disturbed that she was immune to the ticon.

"What's this? A little girl has come to stop me. Do you really want to take me on? This has nothing to do with you," he snarled.

She swiped at him, questioning herself as she responded, "Release these people...from yo–your power!"

Again she attacked, this time throwing a kick in hopes of catching him off guard. He caught her leg in midair, pulling her toward him. "Oh, I have better plans for you. If I can't get you to fight, I'll just kill you myself." He leaned in close to her and blew out the flames on the dagger. All that was left was a burned, warped piece of metal.

She thrust it at him in a final attempt to free herself, but he tossed it aside like a leaf. In a swift movement, he dropped her leg and grabbed her by the neck, holding her off the ground as he squeezed the life out of her.

"I will make your death so painful, you will feel agony in ways you can't imagine. Then, you'll watch this city burn before I slice your pretty little neck and drain you of every last drop of blood." A malicious grin swept across his face as he cackled in the middle of the chaos and war.

Samari gasped for air, arms limp at her side as she accepted her fate. She looked straight into his bloodthirsty eyes and whispered, "Xaih beikx sano."

The words of the great king Thoran when he ended the first war: hope never dies.