f o r t y - t w o

                                    

                                          
"Well, well," the childish giggle of Lord Sookie greeted Remi's ears as soon as she walked into his hospital room. "Remi Goldridge." 
                          
"Lord Sookie," Remi replied tensely, standing by the door. 
                          
"Pretty as a flower, as easy ta read as a book," he called in a sing-song voice. 
                          
"Easy to read?" Remi crossed her arms in annoyance, irritated. 
                          
Sookie adjusted his position on his bed,  sitting up further. His hair was a terrible mess on his head, but his eyes were twinkling with their usual dangerous mystery. A white sheet was tangled between his legs. 
                          
"Tell me, little Goldridge. How oft'n do ya fuck yer Icix whore?" Sookie's wide smile stayed frozen to his face, but there was a dark undertone to his words. "Don' think I didn' notice the way ya glanced at each other." 
                          
Remi immediately tensed. Any reply she could give may give something away. He was a master at reading people. 
                          
"Never," she replied honestly. "And he's no longer my slave." 
                          
The little lord's eyes shimmered as he barked out a laugh, and he juggled three wooden balls absentmindedly in his hand. "Fancy that. Only you'd care ta figure out how ta release a slave fro' their bondin.' And tha' caring will be wha' gets ya killed one day." 
                          
Remi tapped her foot against the bright white floor. "Is that so?" 
                          
"Aye." 
                          
"Then why are you protecting this hospital—patients, staff, doctors? This place is centred around the art of caring. Hypocritical, are we being?" 
                          
His expression froze on his face, his smile slowly falling. He stared at her dead in the eyes, his face seeming haunted and hollow. "Why did ya pull me outta the fire, Remi Goldridge? Do ya have some sorta saviour complex?" 
                          
"No, it's as you already said. I care. I can't just sit by and let people burn to death when I can do something about it," she replied genuinely, furrowing her brows and taking a step closer. 
                          
"Ya sound like the people of old," Sookie snickered childishly. "There was only a fraction o' dark-minded people back then, n' they were imprisoned whene'er their dark thoughts projected inta dark actions. The remainder o' the population were inherently selfish, but disgusted by evil. Now, evil 's all we know. Yer a commodity, Goldridge." 
                          
Remi pursed her lips. "You obviously see value in that. If you didn't, you wouldn't be in the business of saving people. Am I wrong?"
                          
He watched her levelly, with a curious, toothy grin. "Nah. In fact, yer surprisingly intuitive. What're ya asking, exactly?" 
                          
Remi looked him directly in the eye. "I watched a building go up in flames, and heard the terrified screams of people as they burned alive. I also saw the onlookers, completely content to watch from afar, and many even entertained by the turn of events. It stuck me like a bolt of lightning, in that moment, how inherently wrong all this is. I want to change the way things are, and I'm asking for your support. I'm not naive enough to think this will be a small endeavour, but I do know that a step needs to be made in the right direction before it's too late." 
                          
Sookie grinned and shook his head. "And wha' would I get outta this in return?" 
                          
Remi paused for a moment. She thought he would simply be moved by her cause and align himself with her. 
                          
"I already saved your live. Don't you want to pay your debts?" 
                          
Sookie tisked at her, and then stared for a few moments in contemplation. "Sure, consider my alignment ta be my payment. 'N now tha' we're friends," he says pointedly. "Surely you'd wanna strengthen our friendship by acting in its best interest?" 
                          
"What would do that?" Remi asked carefully. Sookie was as slippery as a snake, and he would wrap his words around her like a boa constrictor if she wasn't careful. 
                          
"Protection," he suddenly stopped juggling, letting all the red balls fall to the ground and bounce away. "I want ta be able to walk inta the den o' my enemies 'n be untouchable—and as far as I'm aware, yer the only Goldridge aside from yer father, uncles, and older brother who can project their energy like you did." 
                          
Remi frowned in confusion. Most people didn't even know about her older brother, Falkor. He'd been gone for over two years in the island-city of Mallowley, controlling affairs there. She didn't know he could project his energy. Remi tried to hide the surprise from her face, but Lord Sookie was extraordinarily intuitive. 
                          
"Ooh, ya didn' know 'bout yer brother, did ya?" Sookie asked teasingly, adding a childish laugh. "I bet there's a lot of family secrets you don't know." 
                          
Remi sent a withering look his way. "Alright, I'll lend you my protection, as you asked." 
                          
"Good," he smirked haughtily. "I'd be a fool not ta ask fer it, ya know. You've got an Icix that's as strong as a small army, able ta sneak inta heavily guarded places like Lord Gallanthus's estate. 'N he's wrapped 'round yer li'l finger. Not only tha,' but there's you, the visionary wit' incredible powers 'n the drive 'n willpower ta succeed." 
                          
"Flattery. It sounds fake coming from you," Remi said, rolling her eyes and stalking out of the room with crossed arms. 
                          
She had an ally now. She'd blown on hot ashes and started an almost unnoticeable flame. 
                          
Now she had to turn that small flame into a forest fire, and let it burn. 
                          
———
                          
The charred skeletons that remained looked nothing like their former selves. Trees, once vibrant, strong, towering, and teeming with life were now reduced to gnarly sticks of charcoal, and seemed to ooze death from their pores. 
                          
Killure remembered how their large canopies would shelter most of the forest floor, providing shade to the many animals of the jungle. Birds used to chirp and sing the alluring melody of the jungle in ethereal tones. Critters used to scurry across the forest floor, gathering food or running from something that was chasing them. Jaguars and other large predators used to prowl these lands with pride, their slitted eyes honing in on their prey, and before long they devoured the creature that caught their eye. 
                          
Killure shifted slightly on the tree branch he was sitting on, dangling his legs over the edge. This was the best looking tree around, even if half of it was charred and dead. Most other trees had collapsed and fallen, and were blackened by fire, chewed at until they were unrecognizable. 
                          
Killure raised his eyes to the skyline. Like unwavering giants, the mountains had held fast. They still reached past the clouds like claws, but they lacked their previous essence entirely. While before they used to be covered in luscious greenery, they were now as black as ebony—almost as if part of the night sky had come down from the heavens and wrapped the mountains in its chilly embrace, and never left. 
                          
If one looked closely, they could find a number of bones scattered about. Animals, all in the terrified state of fleeing. Some managed to get into the water before the fire consumed them and waited out the flames, and the birds flew far away, but many were not so lucky. 
                          
Not a single Icix bone could be found, however—not on the surface, that is. 
                          
No, their bones could be found within the tunnels within the mountains—where all those years ago, they'd been trapped and burned alive.