The Everburn Mage

14. Revenge for Gyrak

Twenty-five minutes.

Ebony had counted twenty-five minutes, give or take, since she'd left her squad to inform James along with the others of the criminal they'd managed to capture. By mere luck or coincidence, they'd secured a lead to uncover the truth about the dreaded and unresolved "Missing Mages" Case. And yet, the small victory, much like the kidnapped soldiers, had vanished without a trace. 

When they returned, Ebony extinguished an astonished gasp. On the side of the street they found Striker. He was laying on his back with his legs spread apart and one of his arms covering his forehead. Fortunately, he was still breathing. His chest staggardly inflated in between the fractured puffs of air expelled out his gaping mouth.

Sabine darted past Ebony to check on her fallen comrade. "There, there," she whispered in a comforting tone. Crouched on a knee, she helped the soldier sit up, placing a hand behind his back to support him all the while gluing her concerned glance at he who'd yet to even open his eyes.

 Hazel, on the other hand, got to work inspecting their surroundings. She first analyzed the rope that Ebony recognized to be the same that had previously restrained the Gyrakian when she'd recovered from her stupor. Hazel spent probably half a minute quietly staring at it in her hands before casually discarding it, dropping the rope back onto the ground as her inspection brought her elsewhere.

Meanwhile, their team leader hadn't spoken a word. Tapping his foot, he scanned the area. His distinguished frown only continued to grow. "What happened?" he finally asked, penetrating the sky with a look of disappointment. "I thought you said you'd apprehended one of the suspects?"

Ebony gulped. "We had."

"Really? Then how do you explain this?"

"Apologies, sir. I haven't a clue. Perhaps they were ambushed after I left. Or our captive had a trick up his sleeve," the mage stammered, fishing her brain for the most likely possibilities.

"Save your breath, Ashborn. For now, let's concentrate on finding our escapee. If what you say is true then he couldn't have gotten too far."

"And another thing," Hazel added, a few meters ahead of them. "Any idea where Everburn went?"

Overwhelmed with questions and concerns, Ebony had neglected to acknowledge the absence of her teammate. Rune had always been someone who could handle himself. In terms of sheer magical strength, she could comfortably claim he surpassed her by a decent margin. 

He should've had no issue handling the situation even if Striker hadn't accompanied him. Then why had he disappeared as well? Was he currently pursuing the criminal? Did he find another lead? Perhaps. Although it didn't explain how he could so easily abandon Striker in the state he was in.

James cursed. "Great, now we've another problem to deal with."

"I'd say." 

Ebony, as well as James, turned to Striker who was slowly but surely coming to. He coughed into his fist, trails of silver bile seeping out the sides of his lips. Upon approaching him, Ebony's eyes widened. At the center of his navy uniform was an enormous burn mark. The dark, cloudy shape spawned from his chest and expanded a good way past his waist. The scar had permanently engraved itself into the suit's fabric. Smaller, circular-shaped burns decorated his sleeves. The charred uniform omitted a foul odor similar to the smell of burning cotton. 

Striker spat a ball of red onto the ground and side glanced at Sabine. "Man, this is embarrassing. And here I was thinking this night couldn't possibly get worse. Now I've to look forward to your gloating later on." His tiny chuckle was interrupted by an abrupt cough, forcing him to grab his stomach. "God this hurts," he grumbled.