Wind sorcery was very useful. And versatile. Kurt had only unlocked it a few days ago and it had already helped save the lifes of all three members of the group: An Air Cushion had allowed him to take both Conrad and Mila to a hospital safely, after that warlock had… done her thing. It had also saved Kurt's live in this very fight, providing him a more than adecuate defense against Ruth's bullets.

  It had also provided him with offensive spells that were very interesting and showed a lot of potential, like Wind Blade.

  But his best offensive options were still on the element of fire, and it was the best, most powerful fire spell he knew, Inferno, that had become his only option to win this bout. And that was the problem- it was too good of an offensive spell, at the detriment of any adaptability or efficiency. Or restraint.

  He had only used it once, on his bout against Melalo, and it had both voided his AP reserves and obliterated most of the creature's body. Kurt didn't know if it would do the same to Ruth. On one hand, she was much tougher than Melalo had been, and his AP was quite low, so he didn't have that much to work with. On the other hand, she was very vulnerable to fire, and Kurt's MIND stat was eight points higher than what it had been when he had faced the demon.

  Would it defeat her either way? Yes, no doubt about that. The question was: Would the wyldfae's remains be in a shape good enough to retrieve the amber? That one was much more uncertain, so much so that Kurt had decided to use every weapon on his arsenal but that spell.

  Up until now, that was.

  His wand began glowing a blood red, and a bulbous mass of power materialized on its tip, leeching off his SP. Ruth's attention turned to him, and her cussing and screaming stopped at once. He saw her face, that flat surface, barely sticking out her beast-like frame, turning towards his hand, towards the spell that was forming on it.

  By the time she realized the danger, Kurt had already gotten more than close enough. All she could do was plant her hooves onto the ground, perhaps trying to brace for the impact.

  He pointed the wand towards her, the task gargantuan for his rapidly weakening limb, and, once he saw his AP drop to zero, allowed the mass of energy to expand at its own leisure. When the bright power occupied his entire field of vision, and the heat of it hit his face, too great for even the self-contained nature of the spell to fully seal, only one thought came to him.

  I'm sorry, Conrad.

  The muted cacophony of explosions filled his ears and, after a moment of the spell being cast, another glow appeared before him, equal and contrasting to the one coming from Inferno. A wall of nature spirits exploded from where Ruth had been standing, tall enough to dwarf the tress around, which began shaking in response to its passing. It washed over Kurt, hitting his face like a bucket of ice-cold water, and beyond him.

  It was then that Inferno finally died out, revealing what was left of the wyldfae's body. Her frame remained surprisingly unchanged, and for a moment Kurt feared her resiliance had been enough to withstand even his mightiest spell.

  It was on a closer insepction that he realized, that had not been the case. At all.

  Her rough form remained the same, true, but the flames and pressure of Inferno had more than done their work, because where once stood a beast of solid wood that was harder than steel, and lush greenery engorged with pure life force, now stood a skeleton, a lifeless sculpture of charcoal that seemed to remain standing in the same way that houses of cards stood. By pure chance, that was.

  Once Kurt had gotten closer to the figure, and poked at it with his sword- An effort even greater than raising his wand had been. Both because of the sword's weight and the much grater damage his dominant arm had taken.-, the whole thing collapsed onto the ground as little more than dust.

  No trace of amber could be seen on that pile.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Kurt wanted to cry. He had known what the most likely outcome for the amber would be if he used Inferno, he really did. But still, he… he had hoped against reason it would survive somehow. After all, it had been the most magically potent part of the wyldfae's body, hadn't it? Just like Melalo's core had been, and that had survived his last Inferno.

  He collapsed, dropping on his knees. Whether it was from exhaustion or dissapointment, he didn't know. He just remained there for a moment, kneeling in the pile of soot that had been Ruth Watlin. His eyes scanned the ground before him, trying to find the barest amount of amber glow, something that could give him some hope back.

  He found nothing. The only thing that stood out from the ash were the six stumps of what had been Ruth's feet, half-buried in the ground just as she had left them, untouched by Inferno.

  After a moment, he managed to push himself upward and onto his feet, using his sword as a cane. "Let's go, Mila." he said while turning to face the girl in question, his tone defeated. "The amber's destroyed, so we'll have to…"

  Whatever he was going to say died before reaching his lips, murdered by the sight before him. Mila was in the same spot she had been when the entire fight, but, where she was knelt on the ground before, she was know simply lying face down, unresponsive.

  "Mila?" He managed to say. His tone was weak, almost a whisper. His next attemp was much more vocal. "MILA!"

  He dragged himself towards her, uncaring of the weakness on his legs and, when he finally managed to reach her, he practically left himself fall on his knees and, with as much care as the situation allowed, spun Mila's body so that she was lying on her back, with the back of her head on his lap.

  He looked at her face, and his blood froze in fright.

  Blood was pouring from both her nostrils, so copious that it stained her face all the way to her chin and lower jaw. But that wasn't the end of it, because she was also bleeding from her eyes. Tears of blood poured freely from both her eyes, staining her pale cheeks.

  No.

  The blood coming from the was copious enough to stain the sclera, dying her eyeballs a dark shade of red that contrasted deeply with her irises, which remained unsoiled on their beatiful, sapphire glow.

  Please, don't do this.

  Her factions were twitching erratically: Her mouth was half open, and any attemps she made to close ended up with her lips returning to their initial positions only to start the process again, repeating it as if on loop.

  What the hell is happening?

  Her blinking was pronounced and quick, as if she was trying to blink away the blood. Her eyelids were stuck in a cycle of clenching so much that her brow had no option but to frown, and then open so wide that her already large eyes would seem to occupy half her face. And when they did so, they were looking straight at Kurt's own.

  Why was this happening?

  Mechanically, moving on muscle memory alone, Kurt put both his hands below Mila's arms, and propped her up so that her back was pressed against his chest, with her face looking down. Almost immediately, a downpour of blood escaped her nose, staining her white dress with blood, and her breathing became slightly less strained.

  He had won. He had won. He had fucking won! He had to sacrifice the amber to do so, which was the whole point of this journey! So why the hell was this happening?! Mila had been straing herself to contain that bitch's magic, but she was nowhere near the point of having a fucking stroke! So what the hell had…?!

  And then it hit him. The answer came to him with both terrible certainity and painful slowness. When he had destroyed Ruth's body, just how many spirits was she housing? What amount of magic had just… exploded from her frame when he killed her, washing over the grass and trees around them, stirring the energies within them?

  He had heard the trees all around him tremble when it had happened. The very same trees Mila had connected herself to, trying to keep under control.

  He had done this.

  "No!" Someone screamed, and Kurt barely realized that it had been him. He moved around so that he was facing Mila, keeping his hands on her shoulders so that she wouldn't topple over. He placed his hand on her chin, and pushed upwards so that she was facing him. "Mila! Please!"

  What the hell was he asking for, really? Please don't leave me alone? Please don't die because I screwed up?

  And that's what he had done, wasn't it? Screw up? It's what he had been doing the entire night, now that he thought about it.

  That kind woman from the store? Dead because of his carelessness.

  Conrad? Maimed and comatose because of his cowardice.

  And Mila? The single greatest person in this world, and the one who had turned his life into something great just with her presence? What had she gotten out of the deal? A horrible, painful death in the middle of nowhere, thanks to his own stupidity.

  Why were they the ones who suffered when he screwed up? Why couldn't it had been him the one who ...?

  A soft hand reached his face before he knew it, interrupting his thoughts. Mila's hand. And when he looked at her, he found her looking back. Her eyes looking soft and warm despite being red with blood. And her mouth... Oh God...

  She was smiling at him, her lips curled softly in a loving gesture, showing just a bit of her teeth which, surprisingly, almost ridiculously, remained pearly white despite all the blood that had stained everything below her nose.

  It was enough to force Kurt's brain out of its self loathing spiraling, and towards an actually constructive direction.

  He had to take her to the hospital. He would carry her and just... run with her on her back until they reached it. What did it matter that his stamina was almost depleted? Or that the bones on his legs were on the verge of breaking? He would put her to safety if it cost him his legs. This night had been a failure, but Kurt wouldn't let it become a tragedy. He...

  ...Saw something move on the pile of ashes.

  At first it was so small he could have almost dismissed it. But it kept getting bigger and bigger, bulging from beneath the soot and cinder, and finally blasting through it, rousing a cloud of pure blackness.

  It was then that he saw what it was: A tangle of roots and vines. A screaming tangle of roots and vines.

  His body remained paralized as the mass formed itself in a humanoid shape. One with a long hair made out of leaves, and a smooth surface of wood for a face. One that began speaking.

  "Didn't you know..." She asked, her tone just as hateful as it was mocking. "Didn't you know that plants can regrow from mere stumps, you idiot? Should have been more thorought!"

  And then she moved towards them, evil purpose on her stride.