Dutchman: Inferno
Here am I
The area had been cleared rather quickly. Mustang watched as several bodies were pulled from the rubble, along with one badly burned boy.
'Why was he in there? He's much younger than the others.' He wanted to help, but the sharp point between his shoulders prevented him from moving.
Hoofbeats sounded behind him. "What have we here?"
"He was doing something with the fire, sir. I believe he is responsible for what happened."
"No I'm not! I was trying to –"
"Quiet! You are charged with arson, destruction of property, murder, and attempted murder! Take him away!"
"Listen to me dammit! I was just passing by when –" A jab in the back shut him up. Mustang was chained hand and foot, and thrown over the horse's back. From there he could see that his captors wore blue and silver clothing, and steel armor. A winged horse breaking it's chains adorned the saddle blanket, as well as his captor's shoulders. The flag at the prison bore the same motif.
Mustang was searched before being tossed into his cell. His gloves and chalk were removed, as well as his notebook and pen. He was stripped and forced into white prison garb. Afterwards, he was left alone. He sat on the metal cot, and watched as the sun went down.
'I wonder what happened to Riza and the rest of my crew. Hopefully they succeed, or at least escape.'
With that thought uppermost in his mind, Mustang succumbed to sleep.
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Mustang raced across the battlefield, his men following.
SNAP! A group of Ishvarlans went up in flames, screaming.
SNAP! BOOM! The bunker they had burst out of exploded.
SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! Every time his fingers touched, chaos and destruction ensued.
"Sir! Orders are to cover the right flank and prevent them from breaking through!" Mustang turned to see Hawkeye pointing in that direction. Nodding, he gestured to his men to follow him.
Whump! The sound of a sack hitting the ground caught his attention. Then a wave of heat washed over him.
"What the blazes is the?" one man asked in shock.
To the south a sea of flames shot up, as high as a mountain, consuming everything in its path. Twisting vortices sucked men into the raging inferno, their death screams cut off in an instant.
Mustang watched in horror as the flames advanced. Amestrians and Ishavrlans alike fled, only to be caught by the tongues of flames that licked outward. Mustang had always respected fire, but this was the first time he truly feared it. This firestorm was raging out of control, too large to smother, and was devouring friend and foe alike. He ran with his men, hearing the encroaching flames roaring like devils.
Then it was his turn to be sucked in. And he screamed.
And Mustang woke up to a guard pounding on the door to his cell, telling him to shut the hell up and go back to sleep because he was disturbing the other prisoners.
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Mustang was yanked out of dreamless sleep by the guard pounding on the door.
"Oy! Wake up, arsonist! Sentencing's in ten minutes!"
He dragged himself up from the cot, rubbing his eyes. Wait. Sentencing. Not a trial, he was already condemned without a chance to defend himself.
"Hey! Don't I get a trial?"
"Nah, too many witnessess. Murderers don't get to speak, 'less a Herald feels like practicing the truth spell, so as the killer can condemn himself."
"Any chance I can ask for a herald?"
"You're mighty confident. Think you can beat the spell?"
"Well, you can never tell till you try..." The guard snickered.
"Lunatic."
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When Pol woke up with a pounding headache, his first thought was…
"A tree fell on me?"
"That's what happened. Actually, if your Companion had been a step more to the left, it would have crushed you. You are a very lucky man, Herald Pol."
"How long was I out for?"
"Three days."
"Three days! Did anything happen during that time?"
"You know that the merchants, minor nobles and such had a school alongside the Collegium, right? Well, there was a fire there yesterday. Four boys died, and three are here. I'm actually treating the youngest." The healer paused.
Pol sensed that this was not all. "And…?"
"Well, they claim to have caught the arsonist…but some things don't add up."
Pol waited for the healer to continue.
"The boys have no reason to be in the building after hours. The youngest is several forms under the others, and there is no reason for him to be with the older boys. In addition, under the burns, I found marks of a beating."
"You think he was being bullied?"
"Tortured. It's the term we use with adults, and I see no reason to use a separate term just because of age."
"What he had been whipped as punishment? By the instructors?"
"I think that's what they would have told me, when I asked earlier."
"What else?"
"The man who was arrested showed up after the fire started, covered in blood. He then proceeded to pull two of the boys from the building when the wall collapsed."
"What will happen to him?"
"He will be sentenced in ten minutes."
:Satiran! Get a Herald at that court! Now!:
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Herald Sharissa found herself pounding through the streets of Haven at breakneck pace.
:OK Claire. Lets go over this again. We are on the way to save an already convicted arsonist because of some Healer's half-baked theory that he managed to convey to Herald Pol just as he's waking up from having a goddamn tree fall on his head? How do we know we got the right message?:
:Because Satiran was just outside the window and heard the entire thing, and I don't think he's insane as well! And for the last time, we still have five minutes to get there before this man is sentenced.:
Why me? Sharissa thought. She knew the answer, though. She was the only Herald in range with the ability to invoke the truth-spell. Damn you Pol. You better be right about this.
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Mustang was hauled roughly into the line for the docket. He was third in for sentencing.
The first man was found guilty of theft in a nobleman's house, three witnesses. The second was accused of destroying several carriages, but got off when it was determined that the carriages had been his, and were damaged beyond repair in the first place.
Then it was Mustangs turn.
"Well, well, the arsonist. One count of property damage by fire, four murders by fire, three attempted murders, also by fire. How do you plead?" The judge smirked. He was very pleased to have gotten such a high-profile conviction for his record.
"Not guilty," Mustang responded calmly. The people crowding the room were taken aback by this reply.
"A whole host of witnesses watched as you did something to manipulate the fire, including several members of the Royal Guard."
"I am not responsible for the fire, nor for the deaths, nor for the injuries of the boys who survived."
The judge sighed. There was always some crazy person who believed he could beat the system.
"I hereby pronounced sentence!" The people in the court leaned forward, eager to hear the sentence passed on the man guilty of so heinous a crime. "You are-"
"Not guilty!" a woman's voice shouted from the doorway, where a scuffle was taking place. Murmurs swept the room, as a blonde woman in a white uniform strode confidently into the center of the room.
"Looks like it's your lucky day, mate," hissed the guard. "Looks like a Herald showed up, special for you."
"I am here to use truth spell on this man." More murmurs.
The woman stopped in front of Mustang. She paused, looking at his face. Then she shook her head, and looked Mustang in the eye. Mustang found himself surrounded by a blue glow.
"What is your name?" The woman paused, examining the remains of his uniform. "And rank?"
"Roy Mustang, ex-colonel, wanderer." He wouldn't give more information than he had to, but it was best to answer some possible questions ahead of time.
"Are you responsible for the fire at the Guild School yesterday?"
"No."
The woman seemed satisfied with this answer. "What were you doing there?"
"I saw the fire, and tried to stop it. I have an… ability with fire, and I tried to take control from whoever was manipulating it."
"Someone else was in control?" The woman was shocked.
"Yes."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
The blue glow disappeared. The judge sighed, disappointed. "It appears, sir, that you are innocent. You are free to go. Your belongings." He said, gesturing to the notebook, gloves and chalk. Mustang gathered them up and stowed them in their proper pockets, before walking towards the door.
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I just got started an hour ago when I got the 'write it' bug real bad, and ZOWEE!!! Four and a half pages!
I figured I would do a chapter an event, so please excuse the lack of action.