Flare

f i f t e e n

"Pyromancers are so hot," Sycamore purred. His hands rested on the small of Flare's back, and she silently urged him to let them travel further, for him to go all the way. She wasn't a stereotype, not a feisty or fiery tropical pyromancer with heat for him to lust over. But she didn't care, she just wanted him to be with her for a day or two and then for her to leave. She rarely experienced physical magnetism as strong as this, usually there had to be an emotional connection as well, but this time it didn't matter. The night was silent, no rain or wind to disrupt the still air and stars above. The quiet glow of the moon illuminated the tree branches with a soft white light that cast a shadow on Sycamore's bed. Flare slowly led him over to it, keeping her mouth on his.
"You're so assertive," he whispered, his eyes clouded with lust as Flare climbed on top of him. She leaned down and kissed his neck, a small moan escaping his lips.
A cloud passed over the moon, and Flare pulled Sycamore's shirt from his toned torso, letting the darkness shroud them.

•••

Flare was awoken by sunlight pouring into the guest room, which she had crept into after her escapade with Sycamore the night before. The open window inhaled the morning air, and Abby perched on the ledge, letting the breeze ruffle her crimson fur.
"Good morning, Abby," she said with a smile, hopping out of bed and running her hands through her hair. Abby glanced over, disinterested, then retrained her gaze on what Flare assumed was a bird outside. The pyromancer left her room and trotted downstairs.
"Good morning," Chrysanthemum said with a warm smile, putting a plate of fruit and biscuits at an empty place at the table. Two of the other chairs were occupied by Sage and Sycamore, the latter shooting her a smirk when she sat down. "Are you sure this'll be your last day here? You are welcome longer, you know."
"Yeah, I should be going. But thank you so much for your hospitality, it has been wonderful here," Flare remarked.
"You're welcome, honey," Chrysanthemum said. She gave Flare's shoulder a pat before sitting down. The breakfast was fairly quiet, with little conversation, but the meal was nice, and the morning was beautiful.
After eating, Flare took a small bag of assorted foods that Chrysanthemum made for her and made her way upstairs to begin packing her backpack in preparation to leave. Chrysanthemum, noticing how dirty Flare's boots had been upon arrival, had also offered her a new pair, which she accepted gratefully. They had been on her feet since then to break them in.
"Hey," Flare heard the smooth voice of Sycamore from the door. She turned around, leaning against the bed, and he pinned her there as his mouth met hers. It felt good, and she craved more.
"Not now," she breathed, but didn't stop him.
"We really should probably stop," he sighed after another few minutes of kissing. Flare pulled away and nodded her head. "You packing?"
"Yeah," she answered, running her hands through her hair.
"If you don't mind my asking, what are you doing all the way out here? I mean, you're a pyromancer. All the towns are pretty far away."
"Just kind of wandering, I guess," Flare said. Divulging the real reason wasn't really worth it sometimes. "Dead parents, no other family, nothing holding me there. I had a world to see."
"Have you seen it yet?" Sycamore asked, perching on the edge of the bed and gazing into Flare's green eyes.
"Yeah, maybe a little too much of it," Flare smiled. "I've met so many new people and seen so many new things, and it's been great, but also pretty stressful at times, I guess."
"I kinda wish I could do that," Sycamore sighed.
"What's stopping you?" Flare asked, but she regretted it the instant the words left her lips. What if Sycamore tried to come with her? What if he ran away, leaving Chrysanthemum crushed?
"My family, I guess. And the Qiasans would never let me leave," he replied in a hushed voice, a shiver running down his spine.
"Don't be so afraid of them," Flare said softly, relief flooding her body. "I won the trial. The phytomancers won the trial. Hopefully that'll lead to some steps forward."
"Hopefully," Sycamore said. "Luckily our town is one that has the money and time to do rituals. We don't have to sacrifice people."
"I couldn't even imagine having to do that," Flare pondered.
"Isn't it awful? They're thinking of making the qiasans change it soon. It's an outdated law."
"That'd be good."
"Yeah," Sycamore responded absentmindedly. "Well, I should probably go, I guess."
"Alright, see you."
"See ya."
Flare watched him go, and when the door creaked shut, she sighed and averted her gaze back to the bag. Abby hopped over and pushed her head up against Flare's hand, hoping for attention.
"This life gets tiring, Abby," Flare whispered, running her hand across the cat's smooth fur.
"I'm tired. I'm lonely. I miss Ash," her voice trembled as she spoke, and she scooped Abby into her arms. "I miss him so much," she wept quietly. Abby nuzzled Flare's chin with her whiskery nose, forcing a smile onto the girl's tear streaked face. "It was all my fault that he died. I owe it to him to keep going," she breathed, quieting her thoughts of doubt. That's all she really had to do, was keep going. She drew inspiration to do this from many places. People. Straight teeth. Crooked teeth. Gray eyes, brown eyes, blue eyes, long eyelashes and short ones, thick eyebrows and thin ones, short hair and long hair, blond hair and red hair, small hands and big feet, creamy brown skin and pale freckled cheeks. The voices she had heard that were so high they bring you into heaven, notes so low they strike a chord in your soul. She had witnessed the pure love of friends as they hug and laugh and play with each other's hair, the fortitude of the love of two people who have memorized the feel of their partner's hands in their own and who have memorized the taste of their partner's lips on their skin. The cosmos. The stars swirling above her head in a never ending pool of darkness and if she stared long enough, she'd be looking at something she wasn't even sure exists, the soft oranges of the sun setting over a horizon and bringing an end to something, the majesty of the navy blues and midnight purples that exist, suspended among space and time, somewhere in the universe. Nature. The cry of the wolf, the hunt of the lion, the croak of the toad while it rains and rains and rains, her crimson cat sitting on her lap and the loyal dogs waiting at the door for reasons unknown, the slow growth of the cherry blossom tree, the smell of petrichor and moist earth. This was what reminded her to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Time crawled on like an infant still learning to walk, but it crawled on nonetheless.
Flare swung her backpack over the shoulder and grabbed Abby, confidence seeping into her body. The world was waiting for her. Ash was waiting for her.
"Chrysanthemum?" Flare called, pattering down the steps.
"Are you leaving already?" Chrysanthemum asked. She turned away from the dishes to face Flare, shutting off her tap and drying her hands with a cloth.
"Yeah," Flare smiled. "Thank you."
"Miller! Sycamore! Sage! Flare's going!" Chrysanthemum called her family, shouting into the house. She turned her attention back to Flare once she heard three pattering footsteps on their way. "You're welcome, honey. If you ever find yourself near here again, don't hesitate to find us," the phytomancer wrapped her in an embrace, then held her at arm's length, staring at her in the eyes with a protective intensity.
"I will," she grinned, tucking her hair behind her ear.
"Bye, Flare," Sage said with a childish grin.
"You were a pleasure to have. You're always welcome among the phytomancers in this village," Miller assured.
"See ya," Sycamore said, a barely detectable knowing smile on his face.
With a deep breath, Flare spun on her heel and made her way out the door without looking back.

•••

Perhaps it was just Flare, but the trees didn't seem as alive as they had before the trial. The marshes felt still, but it wasn't eerie; it was rather calming, knowing something wasn't waiting and watching her. However, when she finally stepped out of the swamp, she was relieved to have her feet on solid land once again. The marshes made way into a forest, a bright and cheerful one, with sun streaming through the branches and dancing on the forest floor. Abby chased the dry leaves that skittered across the ground, and Flare watched, amused. Rabbits dashed across her path multiple times, bright white ones with fur like snow. Flare smiled every time she saw one. There was an old legend in her pyromancer town that when the moon set, she would take the form of a pure white hare. If you ever encountered a white rabbit, it was supposed to be good luck, because it meant the moon was blessing you.
Flare really hoped that tale was true, because she figured she could use some luck.
However, as the forest continued and the night crawled on, Flare noticed the forest began turning a bit darker. The trees transformed from an oaky wood to a charcoal color, and the leaves turned to a navy blue, a shade Flare had never seen before. Despite their blackened state, the trees seemed full and alive, not dead and withering. However, there was not any sign of life, except for some bugs she saw every few minutes. What she did see, however, was rocks. Pointy ones, round ones, boulders, pebbles. They littered the forest floor.
Soon enough, it became too dark to continue, so Flare sat down to eat and go to bed. She made a makeshift camp underneath a sheltering tree and pulled a mix of fruit and nuts from her bag. The air had become a bit cold, so she also lit a fire. It had been a while since she had, but her skills were still intact, and soon enough a tiny, warm fire was blazing.
Abby curled up next to the fire in a little bed of leaves, falling asleep quickly. After eating, Flare crawled up into a nest of branches and fell asleep, but not after some difficulty. She couldn't quiet her mind, as it was abuzz with thoughts of the necromancers. The knowledge that she must be getting close excited and terrified her all at once. Her map, with the big black X on it to mark their location, was clutched in her hand. It might've just been her, but Ash's spirit felt close, he seemed near. Finally, fatigue took over, and sleep consumed her.

•••

Flare was awoken from her deep slumber with the sky still dark and Abby still asleep next to her. Her muscles still stiff from the uncomfortable sleep, she hopped down from the tree and swung her backpack over her shoulder. She glanced around with only the moonlight to illuminate her search. Everything seemed to be ordinary, except for a glowing blue spot that hung suspended a few feet away.
She reached out to touch it, and it flitted away, teasing her. The speck had the mannerisms of a bug, but it clearly wasn't. It was a glowing blue blob the size of her pinky nail with no other discernible features. Something compelled Flare to chase after it, so she did, and it kept darting out of her reach just before she could grab it. Soon enough, she heard Abby mincing through the leaves behind her, a tiny mewl escaping the cat's mouth. But Flare paid no attention. She followed the blue light until she stumbled over a branch and tripped. When she rose, the speck was nowhere to be seen. What she could see, however, was the little circular field she stood in, maybe ten feet in diameter. At the opposite end was a cave, swallowing the moonlight so all she could see inside was blackness.
She didn't know if she dare creep in. What if it was the necromancers? What if it wasn't? Which would be better? With a deep breath, Flare touched the outside of the cave, running her hand across the cold, smooth stone. She peered inside, letting her eyes adjust to the blackness.
There were no people inside, but there were signs that someone lived there. A long table, about the size and width of a person, was carved out of stone in the middle of the room. Surrounding the table was a small moat, with little specks of glowing blue light in the water like the floating circle she had been following before reaching the cave. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, dripping the same luminescent blue water, and stalagmites grew from the floor, their ends sharp to a point. Towards the back of the cave, a narrow crevice was carved into the wall. Flare couldn't see where it led, and she wasn't necessarily ready to find out.
She curled up on the ground next to the cave, nestling into a little patch of long grass. Abby padded up beside her and burrowed in the crook of her arm. The glowing moon smiled down from above, perhaps one of the hares Flare had seen earlier that had made her way back into the sky to provide light for the forest for yet another night.