Heroes of Darkness

XXVI

BURNINGTREE

The angel of death was intent upon escape. The boy's lifeless body weighed next to nothing in his powerful arms, but heavy on his mind. The Hero of Fire, Burningtree, lept from rock to rock down Mt. Pyre.  The fire he had started was already raging among the stone corridors of Mt. Pyre, smoke billowing from its highest windows.

Solomon's going to kill me, he knew. The boy, Alexander Specter, was his only remaining family: the son of the sister who had died seventeen years go. I should have done it myself.

Burningtree figured that it would be good for the young man to kill his own father once he realized the truth. I let it go too far before I intervened, he thought to himself. When he finally did step in, it was too late. He had to make a split-second decision: save the boy's body or finish the job himself. It was the first time in a long time he had given up a kill.

He looked behind where he had come from, his bright red beak shining in the pale ribbons of fire that extended from his wrists. They wouldn't catch them, Burningtree made sure of that. No one was as fast or as skilled as the Draconid Assassin. His only concern was to bring Alex's dead body back to the hideout, the broken inn on the border of forest and desert, where he could have a proper burial.

He waited as his panting companion and his Ninetails caught up to them.

"Go on," Franco said. "Get back to the base."

"Not without you," Burningtree responded. He had already failed once today. Losing Franco, a spy and captain of Lord Specter's guard and knowledgeable informant of Mt. Pyre, would unleash Solomon's wrath. "They'll kill you if they catch you."

"I'll lose them another- UGH!" Out of Franco's neck sprouted an arrow.

I've done it again, he thought. My compassion has gotten another one. There was no use carrying Franco's and Alex's body, as well as Franco's Ninetails. He had to make another decision. The boy was the priority.

Burningtree lept away, leaving his friend and the moaning Ninetails to die by the lagoon. He caught a glimpse of himself in the lagoon's reflection as he hopped from rock to rock as the now smoking Mt. Pyre disappeared beneath the clouds. He was tall, and his legs flecked with black and red feathers. The feathers on his head raised behind his head. The flames from his wrists trailed him in spectacular ribbons as he sprung, almost flying along the water as the heat drew up wisps of mist.

The night was almost gone when he arrived back at the base, with the boy's body draped on his shoulder. Burningtree closed his eyes and placed his right hand over the jewel on his armored chest. The familiar sensation of the world speeding up caught him, and then he was two again: human and Pokémon.

Pyro the Blaziken still held the lifeless Alexander Specter in his arms. As the man's dark cloak slithered along the ground, the sentinel at the door of the broken inn awoke with a start.

"I... I wasn't sleeping, Sir Burningtree," the Draconid said. "I wasn't!"

"You expect me to believe some wild Pokémon wandered by and put a Hypnosis on you?" Burningtree growled. He didn't even turn his head to acknowledge the guard as he slipped into the cabin. It was better if no one noticed the bundle in Pyro's arms.

They found a room with a bed, and Pyro gently laid Alex down on top of it. Burningtree bowed his head. It wasn't out of respect for the boy, the loss of life, the loss of yet another of Solomon's family members... It was the realization that for the second time in a long time, Burningtree had failed. He was not used to failure. The assassin's method was quickness, and precision.