Flammable Blood

**Author's note: Yes yes, some of these characters resemble characters from video games, but I doubt if they follow the originals. My sister plays the games, I just read the stories.**

Fairy blood reacts with the air in the Forbodian Mists by bursting into flame upon contact. Humans are unaffected, because of differing body chemistry. The Fey have a chemical in their system however that ignites fire when exposed to the gases present in the rising mineral mists of the Forbodian region. Most have their own chemical concentrated in a specific body fluid, be it tears, blood or saliva. Most fire breathing dragon fables grew out of the local reactions and sightings, needless to say, the serpentine creatures have no such talent with their caustic spittle elsewhere in the world.

The fact about the fairy folk is considerably less well known, and none of the travelers had anything to relate to when it happened amongst them quite suddenly.

"We need a light!" Gorm was shouting tersely, concern for his fallen companion clear in his voice. "It's too dark to see anything!"

"You!" Viktor grabbed the fairy man in a crushing grasp. "You have the eyes of the fey, what do you see?" He jerked Alwyn toward the men on the ground. He stumbled, but did not fall. Fairies never fall.

"I can see, yes, but what can I do? I know not the ways of humans nor can I do what half a dozen men must do, and quickly." There was an edge to his voice that hinted at unease, which Syra picked up instantly.

"What do you sense, Alwyn?" she asked him softly, hiding her rising fear that they would never make it out of here alive, at least not all of them.

He wasn't answering and neither was Jon. "He's loosing blood!" Gorm cried, "He's not going to make it if we don't stop it now!" Viktor elbowed his way past the motionless fey and knelt by the prince, cursing violently.

"I need the key," Shu murmured, his mind thinking fast. "I have to see him to heal him, and I need light to see." Syra felt her knife pulled from the scabbard on her belt, and the presence of the fairy draw away.

"Stand back," she thought she heard him say before she heard the unmistakable sound of metal slicing flesh and the room erupted in flame and light. Like a vision of heaven or hell, the fey's arm was encircled with fire, and flaming liquid dripped copiously from a long gash on his forearm. Alwyn bent and picked up a cloth from the ground, which he rubbed over the gash, smearing burning blood onto it and then throwing it near the feet of the crouching men. Immediately he clamped his other arm around his flaming limb, trying to smother the flames. Syra took off her jacket and pressed it to the gash as Shu initiated the closing spell. He responded to Syra's cry of "Broaden it Shu!" by enlarging the spell to include the fairy as well as the prince; blindly gambling his strength as a mage on a being whose recent reaction made Shu think he had nearly nothing in common with the human race and certainly would be unaffected or worse by a human spell. He cast it anyway, and in the heady yellow light of the chamber, he could see Syra's relieved smile as Alwyn's arm scabbed over and the flames disappeared. Looking down at his patient, Shu could see indeed that Jon was also befitting well from the spell, having slowed and finally ceased bleeding altogether. Silently, the strategist added a spell that drew strength to the wounded man's center The prince opened his eyes and echoed his friend's smile, weakly. "Are we there yet?" he asked faintly. Syra knelt by his side, moved to see him still alive. She chose not to show it.

"You big dope," she said berating him. "You were almost there. Don't scare me like that again." She ran a hand across his brow to convince herself that he was still there, and he reached up to grab her wrist and pull it down in front of his face, oblivious to the people who stood around them.

"You're trembling," he noted aloud. "And worried; I'm touched." He looked deeply into her eyes, his gaze unnaturally clear. He pulled her down to him and kissed her forehead gently. "Thank you, dove," he whispered and fell unconscious. Syra felt eyes on her.

"He's pretty bold for a guy who almost died," came Viktor's sprawl. Syra's ears burned; Shu cleared his throat.

"Syra, I uh--," he began. "-used you as a center to focus his strength. You were the link that channeled the spell; sorry of the late notice." Syra's eyes widened for a moment, then she brushed aside his apology and got to her feet.

"He seems alright now, Shu, thank you for your aid; I appreciate it more than I can say; prince or no, he means a lot to me." She turned to see Alwyn hunched on the ground, cradling his arm.

"Are you okay?" she asked him, trying to get a look at his arm. He brought his head up to look at her, his expression wan.

"I'm afraid not, mistress Syra," he said. "I'm young, and not used to the Effects yet, but if you will allow me a moment, I'm sure I would be able to gather myself shortly." With that, he dropped his head between his knees and breathed deeply.

"We need to get out of here as soon as possible," Viktor said. "I don't want to know what happens to people who wait around for whatever's in there- " he jerked his head toward the cave, "-to find them." He began shouldering a pack resolutely.

"You wouldn't live long enough to find out," Gorm muttered darkly, peering into the face of the prince with the aid of the weak torch he had fashioned from Alwyn's burning rag. Syra realized now, more than ever, they needed a place to rest and recover, safely. She shook her head. Safety was never a guarantee, but unobtrusiveness was an option.

"How is he?" she asked of the prince. Gorm looked up at her words, understanding.

"Well enough to be moved," he replied.

"I'll carry him, if need be," Viktor volunteered. Syra nodded, and scanned the rest of the group. "We'll move out now then, and make camp in the first side woodland we see. Our best bet is to wait this one out, with as little fuss as possible." Again she looked around, meeting wordless agreement in each pair of weary eyes. She turned to the fairy-man, asking, "Can you walk?"

He brought his head up and nodded, then clambered to his feet. They moved out.

Sometime down the moonlit path, Alwyn mentioned to Syra, "If you've no objections, I know of a place not far from here where there is relative safety and quiet." Syra gave the lead to the fey and he led them off the path into a goat run that strayed into the forest. About fifteen minutes later, they came to a small, secluded clearing at the top of a rise that dipped down in a natural depression: a perfect hideout.

"Thank the gods," someone murmured, and Syra couldn't help but agree with them, wholeheartedly. The group set down their burdens, both royal and common, and began to make camp. Efficient even in their fatigue, a decent resting stop was erected in less than an hour. Syra didn't even bother setting up a watch schedule, knowing that if they were attacked, there wasn't very much they could do about it.

Awake despite, Syra checked on her companions and her peacefully sleeping prince. She smiled tiredly; despite it all, they had made it this far. She couldn't ask more than that, and didn't. Giving the reposing ensemble one last sweep, her senses were jarred when she realized with numbing recognition that Alwyn was not among them.

She found him under a tree, hunched over, but alive. The contained fear in her chest lurched unpleasantly when she saw him in such a state.

"Alwyn!" she called softly but urgently. His head moved a fraction to one side; he said nothing, made no noise. She knelt by his side and gripped his shoulders. To her amazement, he felt hot, too hot, even more than a human with fever should be and still be alive. Something was wrong with blinding appearance.

"What's the matter with you?" she asked anxiously, and pulled on his shoulders to get him to unfold his long, lean fairy form. He groaned but did not resist, and rested heavily against the trunk of the tree. Syra notice he was sweating and his breathing was shallow, definitely not good signs. Quickly she called some of her friends over to help her lift him from the ground and carry him back to the camp.

She shook her head. Now they had two people down, one possibly poisoned from the cave monsters' attack, the other a valuable scout whose illness was beyond her understanding, not to mention his treatment. It did not look good for the little band of war weary travelers.

Interested? Confused? Upset? Write me a review! If you would like to hear more, tell me and I'll start typing away! Don't and I won't. Thanks for reading! ~~~Lady Kickass