Open Chronicles A Flame Corrupted.

[Evangeline]

For a disgruntled madman who had just finished mercilessly charring so many trainees to a crisp, fleeing seemed like a very sensible move. Cowardly, but sensible. Only the man's eyes were visible behind his ensemble, but the look of terror he shone just before bolting was unmistakable. Evangeline let out a bewildered sigh. This would hardly be much of a chase, but if he wanted to waste her time he was doing a stellar job.

Thankfully, Alakir and his men were already on it. More magical exertion in running down a spineless criminal would be unnecessary.
"Thank you, Sir Alakir. Do try to bring him back alive, if you can." She hollered after him. She wasn't extremely confident in the guards' ability to apprehend a mage that multiple Dreadlord trainees would not, but the man was obviously shaken. Even a bunch of ordinary soldiers shouldn't have much of a problem against a fleeing fool.

That just left the elf. The lanky fellow had avoided being crushed by the fallen tree and was just standing there among the flames, apparently dumbstruck.
"Still think that scum is worth helping? Worth dying for?" She addressed him, sheathing her bastard sword.

Evangeline took a few steps closer to the elf and stared right at him, cold gaze boring into him. There was something she needed to get straight.
"You know, not every House in Vel Anir agrees with the practices performed by the Academy. House Pirian, my House, actively opposes the abduction and abuse of children."
Vel Anir was deeply flawed, that much was true, but abandoning her country was not an option. Changing it was. She paused and stepped even closer to Zier, until she was right in front of him. Her gaze narrowed.

"You were lied to and you made a mistake in attacking me, that much I can forgive. Leave now or die. This is your last chance, one that many of my comrades would never have offered you." With that, Evangeline simply turned her back on Zier and began walking after Alakir. If he valued his life, he'd listen. If he wanted to play hero, she'd cut him down, plain as that.

 

[Orival Theodric]

What am I doing.

His rage was there. Now it was met with an equal amount of fear and confusion. The true product of the emotionally disturbed. A once wide eyed and benevolent young man turned radical and murderous from his own ineptitude in accepting reality. He led himself back to the same situations he had hated so much, but now, he was the cause. There was no turning away from the atrocities he committed.

So why did he run? For he selfishly desire his own life to be extended despite not offering the same to those who were likely innocent, and victims of the system he so blatantly called evil?

Who even am I anymore?

He'd be forced to run forever. It's possible they wouldn't search so far as Shadokien for him. Dreadlord jurisdiction did not lay there. But he was a fugitive now. His face and powers seen by both Dreadlord and Anirian guard. And Zier, who'd trusted him to cause no harm to his home. Orival lied to his face about the path he'd walk. Yet it became a lie only upon Evangeline's arrival, which beckons the question, is a lie really a lie if you meant it at the time?

His head hurt. He was over thinking everything that had happened. And this led him to trip during his sprint and bury his face straight into the forest ground. Crack. His nose broke immediately. Alakir and the other guards were gaining on him.

Two of them enclosed on him, attempting to impair his movement by piercing at his legs. In an instant, the dancer rose his legs into the air and dodged the impalement by standing on his hands. He flung himself backward away from them, exploding fire from the bottom of his feet in a wave towards both of the guards. The impact connected, knocking them flat. He continued his escape, his opponents not far behind him.

 

[Zier Xya Zythos]

"Still think that scum is worth helping? Worth dying for?"

What Am I Doing is a question he asked himself as well. The more he thought about it, the more preposterous his actions became. He felt that she's right. That he isn't worth dying for. He also finds it insulting how Orival had the nerve to tell him to educate himself when he was just as ignorant to certain houses intentions.

"You were lied to and you made a mistake in attacking me, that much I can forgive. Leave now or die. This is your last chance, one that many of my comrades would never have offered you."

Now that he's seen how fierce a Dreadlord up close is, he'll have to take up that offer and leave. Regarding Orival, he doesn't know if he wants him to be caught by them or not. There's so much mystery surrounding him. Although, this might not be a mystery for Zier to solve. Not at this time. The flame ring slowly shrunk and extinguished as he turned and walked off. As for the forest, there's no way he can put it all out and remain conscious, but he can extinguish the few trees he crosses by.

He only hopes that if Orival manages to survive this ordeal, he'll cease the killing and change his path for the better. He'll realise the error of his ways and stop using his Pyromancy for vengeful purposes. Fire, from Ziers perspective, is supposed to be treated with reverence and used for good reason. He believes that fueling it with hate and malice is the worst possible option because it'll end up like this forest, burning uncontrollably. He feels that a calm mind and good intent when using pyromancy is stronger than rage. If Evangeline didn't interrupt, Zier would've told him that so he doesn't accidentally stretch himself outside the bounds of magic in his moments of rage and desperation.

He'll need to help others keep the fire under control before it's too late. After, he has a lot of reading and training to do.

(Y'all continue without me for now. B i g b u s y plus I don't see a purpose for Zier A T T H I S M O M E N T. Maybe later.)

 

[Alakir]

"Piss on that, he's making fire with his feet!"

"Then cut the fuckers off!" Both Guardsmen erupted with an array of responses to the Pyromancer's antics, but ultimately both toppled clumsily in their efforts to not be burnt. "He's getting away! Get up, get up dammit!"

"I think he got me!" the taller, lankier of the two clawed at the air in horror as he rolled madly in the dirt. "Is it out!?"

"You're not on fire, you're just an arse." If Alakir had found time to comment on their antics, he might have lost ground. He blasted past the two other Guards, like him, still in the throes of their tenure as trainees. Unlike the other Guardsman, duty still seemed foreign to them.

"Give 'em what for, Al!"

The red-eyed Guard continued after the mage, his endurance shining brightly in the midst of the chase. All of that training had not been for nothing. Where the hell is that Dreadlord? he wondered.

"Stop running and face justice," Alakir rasped loudly. "You've taken two lives today, and I will not suffer even one more!"

 

[Evangeline]

Wisdom and warning prevailed after all. Evangeline watched as the elf made a silent retreat, doing what he could to extinguish flames as he fled. She had no need to kill him, and so she let him go as she said she would. That just left the rogue fire mage. The Second Level exhaled heavily and closed her eyes for a moment. Perhaps the heat was getting to her a bit, perhaps she was just a bit exhausted from...everything. Sadly, there was no rest for the weary. She inhaled and rolled her shoulders for a moment; then she was gone, wind and burning leaves moving to fill the space where she had stood.

The guardsmen and the pyromancer hadn't gotten far, and they definitely were leaving a trail. More burning chaos followed in the rogue's wake, and within seconds Evangeline had caught up to Alakir, who she slowed down to run in stride with. To the unaware it would almost seem like she simply appeared out of thin air.
"Excellent work thus far, Sir Alakir. I admire your dedication." She payed him a compliment and gave him a smile, tone not far from when she had first greeted him. "I'll cut him off, you block his way back."

Once again, she strained herself slightly and returned to her breakneck pace, blowing past the guardsman and leaving a wake of dust and leaves behind her. Seconds more and she could see the cloaked mage ahead. Her gaze narrowed upon his back and she shoulder checked him with the intent of sending him tumbling to the ground. Thereafter she simply moved herself in front of where he was headed and came to a halt, panting slightly.
"You certainly changed your tune, didn't you?"

 

[Orival Theodric]

An enemy before him that he could not best.
Several enemies behind him that his magic may help him defeat.

Now beckoned fear.

To face Evangeline head on with his back turned to enemies he didn't consider threats, he may be able to barely escape with his life, but he had no bearing on her stamina or ability to take a hit. Even if he delivered a massive flame to her it would have to be decisive enough to stop her in her tracks.

The same was if he decided to turn around and face the group. He could potentially barrel through all of them, but then Evangeline would be behind him. And she was fast. Far faster than he was. He wouldn't have the time to react to her sword reaching his neck.

Was he truly doomed here? The Falwood was to be his place of rest? His hands shook uncontrollably. His mind pulled in several directions

I don't want to die.

Well, neither did those apprentices you scorched.

I don't want to die.

Then why did you start this?

I don't want to die.

I just wanted to save children from this fate.

And for the fourth time this year, Orival broke. His body made no changes but tears started to fall. He had failed. He wouldn't get to see his mother again. Orival reverted to the young man he really was when reality collapsed upon him. His quest had led him to a path of destruction that he knew he couldn't run away from anymore. It thrust him into a world that he tried to fix without knowing completely. He used methods that he hated.

Orival removed his bo staff from his back and threw it to the ground in front of Eva. He rose his finger to her and wrote;

"Do whatever you want."

 

[Alakir]

Bloody Dreadlord, he huffed as she offered him a smile. It wasn't unkind, but she made the effort he put in seem so redundant with her mystical alacrity. Well, at least we can say the job's getting done.

He continued to jog as Evangeline moved to cut the Pyromancer off from his avenue of escape. All the while, the Guardsman did as he was told and positioned himself so that he could move to intercept if the mage decided that he was feeling lucky.

The other two managed to pull their wits about them and saunter up behind Alakir only after it seemed the Dreadlord had finalized capture of the killer. "Bloody lot of good we did," the scrawny one muttered.

"Shut up and stay on your guard," Alakir reprimanded. "One of you, go help her bind him."

"You're real composed for someone who's never chased down a mage before," the stout one jeered. "Eerily calm even."

"Can't be a Guardsman if you're afraid of a little fire," he replied. "Get on with it, then."

 

[Evangeline]

All the fight had gone out of the pyromancer. Much like a flame without fuel, he'd burned out. Evangeline put the tip of her blade to the man's neck and lifted his chin to force him to look her in the eye. She stared down at him in contempt.
"Pathetic. Prey upon the weak among us, but the moment you are faced with a superior opponent you flee like a child." She chided the man, staring down her nose. Just looking at what little of his face she could see made her sick. "I had heard that you were attacking our trainees to stand against Vel Anir's practices of seizing and torturing children. You slew Pirian initiates, those who stand against the practices of the Academy. Your reckless actions have worked against the very thing you were trying to oppose."

Evangeline no longer felt that burning desire to pass judgment on the man. He wasn't worth the time she'd have to spend cleaning and sharpening her sword later to execute here. In fact, death was far too good a fate for a wretch like this.

The Pride of Pirian glanced up as Alakir and his fellow guardsmen caught up. The trailing duo seemed a bit hopeless, but Alakir himself showed much promise. Perhaps he resented her for her position or for doing his job for him, perhaps not. It didn't matter. She sheathed her sword and kicked the pyromancer in the side of the head with a sharp *CRACK*, then dug the heel of her boot into his neck.
"You aren't worthy of dying by my blade, you cur. Alakir, put this one in bonds. He can spend the rest of his days rotting in a cell."

 

[Orival Theodric]

There's no possibility of her being able to know his thoughts. The turmoil his mind underwent to lead him to this point. On top of that, it would hardly be an excuse. It was what it was. If her words were correct, then his thoughts didn't change. He had failed. He attacked the wrong people, due to his lack of knowledge. He was caught for being careless and underestimating his opponents. Cruel as they may be, her words held weight.

Her foot caught hard and true and he took it with vigor. Tears were not from the pain. He was accustomed to pain. They came from his own wrongdoings and misreadings. All that passed through his mind was how to make this all right. He doubt he could. He couldn't raise the dead.

But if in prison, he could still find the dream maker. He could still take her to the grave, and then be done with this. His tears started to retreat. He took deep breaths. Even through her heel. His eyes looking upon her from the ground. They were unsure, as if they were asking for help.

 

[Alakir]

There seemed to be some remorse in the errant magus, or he was very skilled at playing the part. Alakir did his own duty without any frills or panache: cuffs often carried with them a weight that needed no introduction. He knelt with one knee barring the man from fighting his way back to his feet and the other weighing down his second leg.

They were taught how to properly secure a prisoner very early, and when it came to spellcasters, their hands were imperative. Roll the first behind the back, pressure into the shoulder, use the slight pain to distract them while you control the second wrist. When the irons were fastened, it was safe to help him up. "Easy," he said. "You have been caught in the act of murdering two Anirian citizens, both in service to House Pirian, and as such, you will be dealt with by House Pirian's justice. If you have any accomplices, or any considerations for the House to take, speak now or not at all."

He waited. No one ever did give up anyone's name, but they had a great deal to say in justification of their actions. Still, the protocol stood, even if it seemed dated.

He finally broke the monotonous character of a Guardsman to greet Evangeline. "Your work was excellent, my Lady," he bowed slightly out of respect. Dreadlords were all ranked above him, and he knew to remember it. He did not look up to match her gaze. "I thank you for your kind words."