A/N: Here's theme #20.
Burn.
Amelia clamped one hand over her mouth and nose to stifled a cough. The only air available for breathing tasted like soot and left her lungs dissatisfied and hungry. Her eyes ached from the filth that permeated the atmosphere, and even if she hadn't closed them as a ward against irritants, she still wouldn't have been able to see. It was dark all around here—the kind of darkness that no lighting spell could illuminate. The physical darkness of the smoke pressed in on all sides—hot and oppressive. She'd lost track of where she was. They'd started on the third level, but the floor had given way when the fire started and sent them crashing down. Had they fallen all the way down to the first floor? Was the exit close? Or had they simply fallen down one floor and would they still have to find a staircase before they could escape? …Would they have enough breathable air left to make it that far?
She shook her head and stopped her dizzy mind from panicking. She didn't know where she was or how to get out, but she just had to trust in herself and in the person in front of her whose shoulder her other hand was holding onto to guide her out.
The figure in front of her reached a doorway and pushed—once, twice, three times—before the wood finally gave way and the two of them were plunged into the sunlight.
Amelia took a desperate breath of the fresh air. "For a minute there I thought we were done for," she said, coughing.
"Yeah…" Zelgadis said noncommittally, looking around.
Amelia caught her breath and then followed his gaze around the outside of the house. "Ooooh, where is everyone?" she moaned worriedly.
"We got a head start on them because the floor collapsed," Zelgadis deduced, staring at the burning old house—a place he'd just escaped that he was now having to consider going back into. He took a step back toward the door. "I'd better—" he began.
He was cut off by the shattering of glass as a blade of light was plunged through a downstairs window. Lina stepped out over the sill with Gourry following, and helping her to avoid the broken glass.
"Phew! We made it!" Lina exclaimed, muffled because she'd pulled her cape over her mouth.
"They're alright!" Amelia cried out, relief all over her face—but that relief was short-lived. "But where's Miss Filia?"
"Wasn't she with the two of you?" Zelgadis asked, tensed.
Lina looked wildly over the window they'd just past through, awaiting the appearance of a priestess. "She was right behind us at the start…" she trailed off. "Gourry!" She turned to him. "You saw her come after us, right?"
"She did at the beginning," Gourry said with a worried frown. "But it was pitch black in there… you don't think she could've—?"
At that moment there was a horrible crash. The entire third floor of the old house sunk in onto the second. The second was holding, but it didn't seem too strong. Flames jetted from every break in the wood and smoke flowed out of it like a liquid.
"We have to go back in there!" Lina declared, wide-eyed. "We'll use a wind barrier for protection," she decided, thinking on her feet, "with a layer of ice spells to keep the flames from breaking it." She turned to the rest of them. "Zel, Amelia—can you handle the ice spells?"
Amelia said, "Right!" as Zelgadis nodded.
Gourry stepped forward with his sword drawn. "There's a lot of mess in there—you'll need me to clear the way."
"No, Gourry," Lina said hurriedly. "You can't clear debris from inside the barrier and you won't last outside it. Stay here!"
"But—"
"Don't argue," Lina said, lowering her head seriously as she began building up energy for the spell. "We haven't got a second to spare."
There was an explosion and the second floor fell in.
"Miss Filia!" Amelia cried out, but before they could finish their magical barrier or dart inside the stifling darkness of what was left of the house again, there was movement out of the corner of their eyes.
Flickering into existence to their left, and a safe distance away from the collapsing building, was the member of their traveling party that no one had felt the need to worry about when the fire broke out—Xellos. Hoisted in his arms was Filia—soot blackened, bruised, and bleeding.
"Filia!" Lina yelled, leading the charge as they all raced over to Xellos, who was thankfully wearing an at least comparatively serious expression to his normally smiley face.
"Is she okay?" Gourry asked, as Xellos released Filia's unconscious form to Lina and Amelia, who set her on the ground and surveyed her worriedly.
She was breathing, but her eyes were closed. She was covered in dirt and cuts and bruises and splinters, as though something heavy had fallen on her. That was probably the cause of her unconsciousness, Amelia decided. In the collapse something had fallen on top of her and either knocked her out or pinned her down until she passed out from lack of oxygen. She could imagine some timbers from the ceiling crashing down in a pile on top of her so heavy that no normal human being could lift them… She risked a sideways glance at Xellos before turning back to Filia.
What was worse than the bruises or the cuts or the smoke inhalation was the burn. Amelia had mistaken it for a bloody gash when she'd seen her from a distance, but no—her side and all along her right arm was a ghastly red and white—blistering, moist and unspeakably vulnerable-looking. Amelia had often done her duty as a shrine maiden—helping to heal the sick and injured—and she knew very well that burns were worse than any wound. A simple cut would leave a slice of skin decimated—a breach that could be bound up once more and sealed. But burns could leave entire swaths of skin dead or dying.
"She'll be fine," Lina assessed quickly, in answer to Gourry's question that seemed to have been asked a millennium ago, before they'd seen the damage. "You got her in time." She gave Xellos a nod. In a very quiet voice she added to Amelia, "Use Resurrect."
Amelia nodded and began chanting. It was nerve-wracking work—the worry over Filia would've made it so no matter what, but there was something else that set her nerves on edge. She was being watched—closely and critically. She didn't have to see the eyes to know that they were on her.
Lina noticed it to. Her gaze titled behind them to where Xellos stood. But she didn't comment on it as she dumped healing magic into Filia.
"Why didn't she just follow us out?" Gourry asked, frowning at Filia's prone form. "I thought she was right behind me when we all decided to get out."
Xellos made a gesture with something that Amelia, turned away from him, could only see out of the corner of her eye, but said nothing. Apparently noticing his wordless hush, he chimed in a moment later with an unconvincingly breezy, "I believe she went back for this."
"The book?" Zelgadis said, looking up from the healing process where he'd been poised to see if his less skilled hand at healing magic was needed.
The book, Amelia thought as she let the white magic flow into Filia. Yes… that made sense. After all, the book had been the whole reason they'd gone into that house—the whole reason Filia was traveling with them. They'd gone to meet the man who claimed he had the book about Ancient Dragons…
That book… the chance in would've given Filia to taste that lost to the ages culture that her people had extinguished… the chance to give her son even the tiniest trace of his people's way of life and beliefs… that had to be priceless.
Of course, the meeting hadn't turned out to be what it seemed when they first arranged it. The man who'd promised them the book had another agenda, one that Amelia couldn't grasp in any full detail at this point. The man had said something about revenge but… revenge against who? Miss Lina was always the most likely option… but it could've been meant for someone else… perhaps even Miss Filia, for whom the book seemed to be designed as bait.
They couldn't get the man—whoever he was—to tell them the whole story before he called some low-class demons to fight in his stead. There had been a struggle, but in the end it was clear that he was going to lose. And that's when they'd set the fires—a cowardly and cruel act that proved by itself that they were dealing with an amoral villain.
Villains… and proof of villainy. Amelia couldn't help but think that subject had gotten more and more complicated to the point that it was hard to manage. It had been easy when she was younger. Good guys wear white, make epic speeches and punish villains; Bad guys wear black and laugh evilly and tie people to contraptions that gradually lower them into vats of acid—simple. But real life seemed to be rife with exceptions—no one who traveled with Miss Lina's group could miss that. She'd had to adjust her expectations because, deep down, she knew that Miss Lina was basically good, even if she was occasionally greedy and not 100% moral.
Mister Zelgadis had been a tough one, because, while Miss Lina would occasionally take on the role of hero with all the flare and style and passion that Amelia had been taught to expect as a child, Mister Zelgadis seemed to actively avoid it. He'd been quick to shut her down whenever the subject of heroism came up—quick to say that, no, he wasn't a hero of justice—to say that they should stay out of things that weren't their problem. But… she knew his intentions were good and despite his protestations whenever push came to shove he displayed more good, more heroism than she could've ever hoped for. She was coming to believe that part of the reason he shunned the 'hero' label was simply because he thought anti-heroes were cooler.
…Which, of course, Amelia knew was ridiculous. After all, nothing was cooler than a hero.
She stared down at Filia—at her speedily mending burns. It was when Filia had joined their group that she'd really… noticed that she'd changed in her attitudes about good and evil. She saw how rigid Filia's definitions of the two were and thought I've been there… haven't I? Filia had gone through a similar change. She must've known what it was like.
But still… she couldn't imagine what it was like for Filia. Her struggles in where to place Zelgadis on the justice spectrum paled in comparison to… Her eyes flicked in the direction behind her. …Well, at least anti-heroes were still definitely heroes.
Xellos on the other hand… no one was really sure what to do with Xellos. But Filia would probably have the best idea.
And he'd snatched her up from that building when they'd all lost track of her. What would've happened to her if he hadn't? It was enough to make a person think…
But no. That was being sentimental. She realized that when she looked up into Zelgadis's eyes. He was looking over at Xellos with a sour and suspicious expression—more specifically he was looking at the book in Xellos's hands… the one Filia had risked her life to get. Was he just holding it for safe keeping or was that book the whole reason he'd been following them again?
It was impossible to know… and this had happened before. It was dangerous to read into Xellos's acts based only on their results. She'd made that mistake before. The things he did may have seemed one way but… his intention could've be something else entirely.
Amelia let the last of her white magic flow into Filia. It was a poor substitute for the revitalizing holy magic locked in Filia's unconscious mind, but yet there was something sacred about it. It was not the kind of magic for monsters. Xellos could rescue Filia, but he couldn't save her—that he had to entrust to them.
…If saving her was even what he'd been after. Perhaps it was just a bonus and the book was the real prize. Perhaps its knowledge held something that he and his kind needed to know or needed to keep from others.
But she couldn't believe that was the whole story. Amelia was sure. It was a convenient excuse and would've preserved a certain world-view—a categorization of good and evil. But it couldn't explain the force—the manic pressure of eyes boring through the back of her head. There was an edge there, a tension and an ultimatum. She didn't need to turn around to feel the intensity, the judgment of his gaze.
Filia's eyes fluttered open and the pressure ceased.
