Avenging Maria

Chapter Four-Be My Guest

 Mazon didn't even remember falling asleep. He knew he had stopped kissing Ezekial at some point, and they had ended up laying next to one another on the bed, half heartedly joking about hating each other and talking about little nothings. Mazon had drifted into sleep not long after, but he thought he had a vague recollection of Ezekial shuffling around and putting a blanket over him, though he wasn't sure.

When Mazon opened his eyes again, it was far too dark to be morning yet. The fire had burned down into embers, and the room was much chillier than when he had slipped into sleep--but it was not the cold that woke him. The breeze coming directly into his face, however, was.

As he tried to pinpoint the source, it grew stronger. By the time he had figured out it was coming from Ezekial, he was being shoved off the bed by it. He was slammed first onto the floor, but as it continued to pick up he was slammed against the wall. He began to shout for Ezekial, desperate to wake him, but the wind whistled louder than his screams.

The breeze pushing relentlessly against him forced Mazon's eyes shut, and suddenly an unexpected pain stabbed into his side. He cried out, ripping his eyes open to see a burning hot coal lodging its way through his shirt and into his skin. The wind had carried embers from the fireplace and tossed them around the room,and it only made them stronger. It grew hotter every second, eventually burning a hole into his flesh. Just when Mazon's screams began to die out into acceptance, one stuck into his chest, sending a fresh wave of pain through him. They kept coming, one by one, latching onto different places of his body until he was yelping uncontrollably.

One landed on Mazon's cheek, and Mazon screamed louder than before, unable to stop. He could feel it making its way through the limited skin layers of his face, the unforgiving wind shoving it further and further into him. After a minute of Mazon's ear splitting screams filling the space, Ezekial started screaming as well, jerking up in bed. The moment he was awake, his screams stopped and the wind ceased. Mazon fell onto the floor, panting, and went to pull the embers out of his skin that hadn't already fallen off. He grimaced as he pulled out the first one, which had burned at least an inch into his side. He looked around at the scattered embers as they faded and died out. He waited a moment, and then sighed in relief when the structure didn't burst into flames. He glanced up at Ezekial.

He was curled into a ball in bed, facing the wall rather than Mazon. Maze stood and approached carefully, gently sitting down on the edge of the bed. He heard soft sniffles coming from Ezekial's general area.

"Zekial?" Maze asked gently. He went to place his hand on the boy's shoulder but stopped. "Can I touch you?"

"No," Ezekial choked out faintly. "It will make it worse... Just give me a minute."

"Alright," Mazon whispered, sitting back up and closing his eyes. His skin ached where the coals had been--he could still feel the heat, feel the blood pumping through his veins, some spilling out of his body.

"I'm okay now," Ezekial said shakily, sitting up in the bed. Mazon's eyes snapped open as he took in the boy before him. Ezekial looked at him as well, and his eyes widened when he saw the damage done. "Maze, I-"

"Don't worry about it," Mazon told him, shrugging. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing, Maze, look at you-"

"It's fine," Maze said, cutting him off. "I'm fine, Zekial, I'm more worried about you right now."

There was silence for a moment, and then, softly, still staring down at his lap, "Why didn't you run? I'm a freak."

"You're a wind descendant," Mazon said, half shrugging. "Your ancestor is Ventus Brodeur."

Ezekial's eyes widened as he turned to Maze. "You know?"