Chapter 113: Into the Fire
When he’d heard Festuvian try and fail to set off the magical equivalent of a fuel-air bomb, Simon had thought that it was dumb, but deep down, he knew he’d have to use it someday; he just didn’t expect it to be so soon.
He knew that it would be hard on him, even at full strength, but truthfully, he’d been entirely unprepared. Using greater twice in a row had filled him with such tension that he was barely able to get the familiar word of fire out of his mouth. It was a force of will to do so, and he felt like every syllable cost him.
He wouldn’t know how much for a while yet, though. Not until the spell ran his course. Instead, he collapsed there as he imagined a fiery nova rippling outward away from him to burn away the dark.
That’s exactly what happened, fire tore through the darkness turning night into day, and burning away the massed wall of spirits that had been chasing him like the vengeful hand of god. They evaporated in an instant, with no more than silent screams to mark their passing.
For a moment, the world was awash in heat and light, and to Simon, it felt like the end of the world. To him, it might be, he realized. Even as he watched the magic he’d unleashed echo outwards, igniting grass of fire and knocking over tombstones, his consciousness began to fade.
Simon tried to force himself to stay awake, but he couldn’t even make himself stand and slipped off into the blissful embrace of unconsciousness.
Simon had expected to never wake up at all or perhaps to wake up back in his cabin. Instead, he woke sometime later, laying there at the center of a crater that he’d made while the stars still twinkled in the sky above him.
The graveyard was a mess, but he couldn’t do much more than turn his head. Even reaching for his sword was exhausting, and for several long minutes, he lay there simply gauging his pain and exhaustion.
It took much longer than it should to wonder where the fog had gone. “That can’t be it,” he croaked, regretting it instantly.