Biff looked down at the blood on his hands. Again, he'd forgotten to consider those around him.
The soft part of his soul clenched, bracing for the sting of judgment. It shouldn't have mattered. He'd always been mad, and he'd gotten used to travelling alone. He'd even gotten used to the way people walked in and out of his life. Much of it had been wasted in trying to please everyone around him. No matter what, he was determined to be himself. Even if it estranged him from people he wanted to befriend, like Miss Ever Starfall.
"Hey," said S'dennmo, touching his arm. "That guy's a jerk. He's just mad he couldn't free you and take the credit for himself."
"What?"
"Yeah. We were trying to bust you out, but that thing just wouldn't budge. Its wings were like steel! He got frustrated and told us to give up. Leave you behind. So when you made it out, he was probably embarrassed." S'dennmo shook bits of blood out of her sleeve. "So much for a noble hero, right?"
"I don't blame him," said Biff. "Not fer that. But I don't like him."
S'dennmo chuckled as she dabbed her handkerchief to his forehead. "Then what do you blame him for?"
"Fer bein' a show-off. I keep runnin' into people like that. New adventurers like him."
"They're trying their best, huh?"
Biff twitched his shoulders. "That's what I tell meself. But when some arsehole yells in yer face that his party is gonna get the glory, it's hard not tae shout right back at him."
"To be fair," said S'dennmo, inspecting her work, "wannabes are super annoying."
"Aww, he ain't a wannabe. He just wants to be."
S'dennmo cracked a smile. "You're done being mad then?"
There was a twitch from S'dennmo's ear. Her face fell and her eyes widened. In a matter of seconds, she ducked under a table and waved him over, urgently. Baffled, Biff surveyed the chamber, hoping to find the source of her fear. Then, suddenly, the earth shook.
Biff was thrown off his feet. Stones flew loose from the walls and ceiling. As one fell heavily beside his head, he scrambled to join S'dennmo under the table. The entire deepcroft wailed, letting its stalactites fall on unsuspecting cultists. Screams of pain carried like thunder in the dark.
He had just begun to catch his breath when it all went still. His head was still spinning. S'dennmo held him steady, her vigilant ears turning, listening, confirming. She made to open her mouth, but another scream broke the silence. This, at least, came from a distinct direction the adventurers could follow. The two of them scrambled toward the door, drawing forth their weapons.
A mob of robed men had swarmed a group of hapless adventurers in the corridor. The poor sods. Biff recognized the face of their leader, a Hyuran man carrying a sword and shield, brow drawn up, eyes burning with determination. The bastards. The fools. Biff ground his teeth. Though they were only two more, perhaps Biff and S'dennmo could turn the tide of battle. S'dennmo nodded at him, then began to unleash a flurry of arrows from behind the swarm.
His skin was so hot. Blood spattered upon his face as he lunged his lance into one, two, three cultists. They must hurry. He must hurry. These sprouts, so full of potential and pride, must not be slaughtered under his watch. S'dennmo had made three clean headshots in kind, but the cultists kept coming. A wall of black robes and mad cackles teemed before them, running down the clock.
"AVERE!"
Panicked screaming echoed fourfold through the cavern. Biff kicked a man aside, then punched another. He was so close, so very close. From between the limbs of his enemies, he could see the girl, tears streaming down her face, clutching something between her trembling hands. The Elezen archer among them tugged the girl's arm, shouting incoherent directions. Their thaumaturge, a terrified Lalafell, stumbled away, into the dark. Then, the shape of the girl's object finally took form in Biff's mind.
Blood. A neck. A helm…
"GET AWAY!" Biff bellowed, tossing a cultist into the depthless pit of darkness of Tam Tara's heart. "RUN, EEJITS! RUN AND NEVER LOOK BACK!"
"Biff, look out!" cried S'dennmo.
Biff whirled around, but it was too late. He was tackled by a Roegadyn cultist and pinned to the ground. The sprouts, he could not see them. This sea of enemies would not drown him. His heart pulsed with resolve and the blue light of aether silhouetted him. His strength was returned, graciously returned.
[ Hear… Feel… Think… ]
The adventurer drew forth his clenched fist and launched it at the Roegadyn's jaw. Bones cracked and flesh squelched. The man's face was mangled beyond recognition, torn in ways Biff had never before seen. S'dennmo hurried to his side and helped him to his feet.
"That was the last of them," she said. "Those sprouts–they ran in the direction of the exit. I think they'll be okay."
"Sure," said Biff, nodding, extending an arm around her to escort her away from the scene. If he could prevent her from looking at a headless corpse, it was worth a try. "They'll have nightmares, but they'll be alright."
He glanced over his shoulder, unable to help himself. There lay the young man without a head. She'd called him Avere, hadn't she? And he had called her Edda. He should have said something, back at the mouth of the seagrot. He should have warned them of the danger. The whimsical call it adventure because they know not the weight of blood. It did not prepare sprouts for the harsh realities they would confront in the field, all by themselves.
"Look, Biff." The Miqo'te pointed toward the chasm, wherein its final light extinguished. "H'zula and Ever found the rest of the orbs."
As if by her command, the earth began to shake once more.