Chapter 20 | PoV: Fazl
“Help me get Of-Jinan into the wagon!” Fazl, the remaining aeolian mage on the caravan team, shouted.
Fazl tossed his staff into the back of the covered wagon. His protection against the tempest winds dropped from a bubble of a couple dozen paces to just a dozen. There remained a weird dozen paces where the extraneous heat was gone but the winds still howled and roared. Instead of death by a thousand cuts and melting into a glob of flesh, any individual caught in that would only be lacerated like a butchered pig.
He didn't care that he had weakened his bubble.
With both hands free, he tried to pick up Of-Jinan. He snorted to himself. He did not have nearly enough muscle to pick her up.
The temporal mage, Abubakar, raced to Fazl's side. Abubakar had also abandoned his staff. Abu could afford it.
With Fazl at Of-Jinan's legs and Abu under her shoulders, they hauled the big lady up off the ground. Of-Jinan's black hair—as was common—had a braid on each side, starting above her ears and losing height, until they were tied together at the back of her head nearer her neck. A simple orange ribbon tied the converging braids together.
Fazl's twig-like stature struggled underneath Of-Jinan's weight. His legs quivered, wanting to buckle and fail. Fazl's arms screamed for mercy. Why did she have to be so large and muscular?
Together, the two of them barely slid Of-Jinan into the caravan face-down, who remained out cold.
They didn't need to disrobe Of-Jinan to see her wounds. The robes had practically burned away, or melded with her flesh. They were bad enough that Fazl knew no first-aid kit would remedy them. Maybe he'd get someone to tend to Of-Jinan's wounds once they left . . . or himself. Okay it was either him or Abu.
“We leave now!” Fazl called the order from the top of his lungs.
Fazl went over to where Of-Jinan had dropped her staff. He picked it up and brought it into the wagon with her. Leaving your staff behind was like leaving a limb behind. Fazl would make sure they each got back to Glorestra in one piece. As he left Of-Jinan's staff, Fazl retrieved his own. His bubble of safety expanded.
“Did the wayfinder not hear me?” Fazl asked Abu. “Let us hurry to the front.”
Fazl rushed past the first wagon, then up to the first. As they passed the second, Abu picked up the staff he had tossed aside to help pick up Of-Jinan.
The thermal mage and the investigator, Firdaus, stepped from the front of the caravan to meet with Fazl and Abu.
Fasl blinked in disbelief. He almost wanted to break out into laughter, the sight was so morbid. Firdaus, with gloved hands, held onto an entire human skeleton, picked clean.
“Why on Heliux's forsaken hellscape did you weaken your wind-calming bubble?” Firdaus snapped, bones rattling.
“Of-Jinan! She was hurt and passed out,” Fazl defended. “T-the other two mages had tried to assassinate her!”
“You almost killed us!” Firdaus hollered.
Fazl scratched his hair beneath the hood of his robes. “I . . . I guess I did. I'm sorry! I apologize. I'm glad you made it back safely though.”
“Did you get everything you needed from the remains?” Abubakar asked.
Firdaus nodded. “Got a nice princely skeleton and grave-robbed some jewels—proof it was him. Or, at least, their caravan. We've got the right number of skeletons.”
How would—? . . . One did not determine the owner of a skeleton alone . . . There was nothing that differentiated between “princely” or not. Was this an attempt at some weird humor from Firdaus? The “grave-robbery” probably made that clear.
Firdaus walked past the two and to the back of the first wagon. He tossed the skeleton into it, adding to a pile. Fazl wanted to lose his lunch.
Fazl stepped up beside the wayfinder, who idled on the driver's seat of the first wagon, humming to himself.
“Wayfinder!” Fazl barked.
The wayfinder jumped, humming cut out. He finally came back down to reality. “Ah! What?”
“We're done. Let's go. Of-Jinan was wounded, we must hurry back.”
“W-what? Nevermind.”
The wayfinder barked a command and masterfully handled the reins. Soon, the camels began turning.
Fazl stepped back so the turning wagon wouldn't collide with him. Behind him, Firdaus jumped into the seat of the second wagon and began hauling it around, camels grunting.
In enough time, the second wagon became the front, and they headed back towards Glorestra.
Fazl jumped up into the wagon carrying Of-Jinan. Fazl dropped his staff again and grabbed the first-aid kit from under the bench. He popped it open and began administering alcohol and balm to Aisha's wounds.
In a few minutes, he had done all he could. He replaced the items he took, closed the kit, and put it back where it belonged.
He picked up his staff and sat on the bench, keeping his spell up. Abu, tired of walking, joined him.
The two sat in silence as the wagon rattled through the tempest. Five individuals alone in a vast sea and sky of shrouded death.
Fazl fidgeted. Would they make it out okay? Fazl did not really know Of-Jinan, but he was invested in seeing her back to Glorestra.
Why had those two attempted to assassinate her, though? Who were those mages? Who had sent them? Was Of-Jinan a bad person?
Those two mages had not returned. While they could keep the storm at bay alone, Fazl wondered if they had been killed. In fact, Fazl was sure that they had.
Unconscious on the floor was a powerful temporal mage, a murderer, but not by choice.
At some point, the wayfinder passed by Firdaus’ wagon once he was no longer confident in his lead.
Soon, minutes became hours.
That was when the camels started bucking and grunting. Fazl heard their mad feet smash against the sand and crunch gravel. The reins jangled. Firdaus cursed under his breath and tried to keep hold.
“Sand sharks!” The wayfinder cried from far up front.
“Oh, great golden shell of the divine!” Fazl cursed. He stood and jumped out of the wagon with haste.
Abu followed. Fazl turned right, Abu went left. They flanked the wagons and ran up to the front.
Fazl scanned the ground in their safe bubble. Of course, nothing could be seen beyond.
The camels continued to prance in fear.
Fazl's heart slammed in his chest. Yet, his breathing was still calm.
There! A fin poked out from the sand.
Fazl aimed with his staff and spoke, almost in a whisper. “[Gale Guillotine].”
The air in front of the fin rushed down at great speed. It sliced at the dirt, stirring it up in two waves.
The fin only slowed. Sand shifted.
Fazl cursed again. He couldn't do anything about sand sharks, considering they were underground.
Fazl heard Abu incantate his own spells.
Sharks on both sides?
Fazl could try something else . . . Fazl took a step away from the caravan, towards the snaking fin.
The fin sped up.
“[Updraft]!” Fazl swept his staff, pointing below him.
The fin leapt out of the air. A spectacular maw full of razor-sharp teeth jumped out from the ground, displacing sand. A beast of a sharp, pointed nose, a rough but slender body, and more fins than anything should know what to do with. It had a deep cut in front of its largest dorsal fin.
“[Zephyr Press]!” Fazl shouted at the shark.
A rush of air collided with the shark and shot it back. Its body waved helplessly, and it crashed into the sand.
It did not move.
Fazl's Updraft finished, and he floated back down to the ground. He sighed in relief.
Unfortunately, that was when Fazl saw the two other fins.
Fazl cursed a third time.
“[Updraft]!” Fazl shouted, panicking. Do the same thing! It would work again! Surely!
He was too late. A jaw emerged from the sand, the shark turning into a flying fish. The mouth converged upon Fazl's left leg.
“[Zephyr Press]!” This felt like déjà vu.
Something was different this time.
Pain spiked from Fazl's leg.
“[Repulsion]!” Fazl said.
Wind burst from around him, knocking the dead shark and the second shark away. Oh, and half of Fazl's leg—up to the knee.
Fazl winced in pain, then cried out like his colleague's name was a new curse. “Abubakar!”
Fazl collapsed to the ground. Crimson blood dripping out (an understatement). It hurt like Hell. Like, actually—what! Fazl had never felt this kind of pain before. His breath stopped being calm, heart throbbing.
He . . . He wanted to pass out.
He couldn't. Not now.
The second—well, the third—shark dove back underneath the sand, body wriggling. Aw, this one was going to get the finishing bite on Fazl. Then, with the other aeolian mage gone, the whole caravan would be lost.
Fazl snorted. The investigatory caravan lost too, how ironic. Now was not the time for running thoughts! Focus!
Abu came from between the two caravans in a mad dash, shouting out a spell.
The ground boiled where the shark had gone. Sand turned into molten glass.
Fazl panted. The pain! . . .
Abu cursed, this time. “If you drop, we're all gone.”
“I know . . . get me into the wagon . . . patch this up . . . for now.”
Abu picked Fazl and dropped him into the wagon with Of-Jinan.
Abu bound Fazl's leg, and the camels stopped going crazy.
They headed back to Glorestra, camels running.
Fazl couldn't stop cursing as his vision danced and he struggled to stay awake.
Oh Heliux, he had lost his leg . . .