Bloody Lucky

"Get Bonfire. No matter where the dunce is. With my help, I believe he can get us out of here."

The reverence, or abject horror that depends on the situation, from the demons continually throws me for a loop, but Abraham simply nods with clasped eyelids. With a slight hum, he flows his Ether within his body, something I can see oh so clearly.

As the half-Nahullo does so, I grit my teeth, forcing my Living Manacles to release the man's chains as much as possible. Then... I inhale. The Ether in the surroundings, including the falling drizzle of blood, dissipates like morning dew exposed to the sun.

The Ether appears within my body, expecting and desiring to clad my form, to weaken my restraints. But I do not let it. As I inhale once more, declaring Freedom for another, I deviate all my Ether into Living Manacles.

For a moment, for a brief moment, Abraham's mind detonates with untold power. It eclipses Aniwye's psychic force and Mie's mental fortitude combined. His brain... his mind... and his soul reach beyond a God's restrictions as I cloak him with my own soul, my Dominion.

And I follow along, placing my faith in Lennon to protect the others and myself for a while longer.

Seconds pass within the blinding light of Daymare before Abraham and I stand inside an arena with only our minds, formed from mentally attuned Ether. This one... is different from all the others.

Skulls, an infinite amount of heads without a lick of flesh, are the very earth beneath our feet. Fortunately, our bodies have no weight in this state to crush the bones. We are mere dreams given substance.

But that fact gives me little comfort as I witness Bonfire pursued by a cloaked figure in black. I raise an eyebrow, unsure of what I see, yet the Court answers for me.

"You may escape with your might, Wyatt Graves. But this twice-lived belongs to Death. To take him means warring against two Gods at once."

Stunned by the ethereal voice of the Crimson Court, I stay frozen while Bonfire burns against a robed scythe. Abraham glances at me, speaking through our connection. The man is worried for his friend, and so am I.

"What do we do now? Normally... it'd have already taken him."

I nod, understanding why it didn't go through like the typical Daymare.

"Yes. Death has claimed him. The Court also resists our attempt. I can only imagine... that She is pulling some strings."

Wracking my mind for any idea, I search this realm of green skies and crunching bones. With each of Bonfire's movements, rabid and fearful, he destroys another mountain of bone. But he must, or else he'd be too slow. The fires of creation gifted by the Cardinal are not working correctly against an agent of Death. His wounds are not healing as they did against Eldest.

"So... what then? I... I did all this for him! Are we to lose him again!?"

My hand wipes the flesh on my face as I yearn for a solution. Unable to find one, I squeeze harder, contorting the false chin. He's right. We've come this far. What... what can be done?

Death...

Court...

Usen...

The Crimson Court isn't aligned with Usen, but this specific desire works with what she wants. After all, the Mother Below nearly got Bonfire once. I'm sure she believes him to already be hers, which is doubly reinforced by the fact that he's technically already died once, giving Death some dirt to work with.

As I shift my mind in thought, Isaac's wisdom comes to mind. When I asked about Dominions... his response was simple yet profound.

"Get your own. Or... figure out their restrictions and cripple them with their own strengths."

I believe this also applies to Gods, and whatever powers they have. Sure, they are vastly beyond anything a mortal can conjure, and yet... they have fallen to some.

Vincent, as a Dominion, was mighty, unbelievably so, but he didn't contest the Gods with sheer, overwhelming force. He struck Hurakan where he was weak. The God Of Storms was unfathomably massive, which, while a strength, can also be a weakness. His storms were too big, his attacks too comprehensive, and his existence too spread out.

Desolation took advantage of that, turning into the fine sands of his Endless to strike the God. It made it impossible for Hurakan to levy all his power, plus it allowed Vincent to batter where the God was weakest, his expansive flesh without much defense.

I don't know how the fight with the other God went, but Hurakan's makes complete sense to me. So... how do I overcome these two God's weaknesses?

Think! Come on! Think like Earl! Find a fucking loophole! SOMETHING!

Like Earl... Like Earl... What would he do here? Yes... I know.

He'd make a gamble, one based on past logic and experience.

Bonfire has died once, killed by the Cardinal, and was brought back. Who is to say it cannot happen again? I just have to keep his soul in his flesh and let Lily reignite his flames of creation. Of which... I think those flames might just be the kindling for a Dominion. Maybe not, though. It is weird... They seemed... aligned with two opposing Concepts. Can't be his Ether,r right? Or... I don't know. It seems he can only use the burning black or the healing white one at a time. That's not important now, though.

What is... Can I do that? Can I resist Death's pull of his soul?

I failed with Edmund... but back then, I was weak. So... so very weak. In the eyes of the Gods, I was nothing but an ant. Now... I have some bite. With Death distracted by the others... there is a chance.

The chance is higher than combatting both at once, as the Court will release its hold on this arena once all are dead. The rules are unbreakable to itself and others. The Court will follow them. Also... the Court won't touch him if he's dead, the judgment already placed. That's it! I will only have to face Death!

Bonfire will die. And I... I will help him bring himself back.

"Tell Bonfire to get caught. To die. And that we will save his soul just as we did before. He's come back from just a soul. It'll be fine."

Abraham wide-eyes me like I'm a madman. He sputters out some gibberish, but I don't have time for his confusion.

"NOW! Do it! He'll understand!"

The pale fluster vanishes as my friend inhales a hopeful gasp. Then, he extends his hand, and his mind with it, unto Bonfire. I feel how his mind bulges with a similar force as before, still augmented by my Ether. Abraham howls with his psychic winds for Bonfire to hear him.

I cannot hear the words myself, but my hands are tightly clasped. Bonfire stumbles in shock from the sound. He tumbles and trips into the bones, earning yet another wound from the scythe. Fire splashes out from his injuries instead of blood, as his being is a genuine inferno.

He is not human any longer. He is a creature of fire. I've heard of these before in Ma's books. A Haashch'eezhini—a name I can hardly remember, let alone pronounce aloud. There... there is another name for them that she told me. Black Gods. The earliest creatures in existence first formed when there was nothing but darkness in the universe, creatures of fire and flame that birthed light into all, born from nothing. They were not actual Gods, but they might as well have been, as nothing else existed outside floating rock.

Back then... I thought it was a simple story to explain the creation of stars. But now... Now I see they were real. And... this development makes things easier.

I don't need to transport and protect flesh. I just need... I just need to get a spark under these Gods' eyes. All I need is a spark.

With bated breath, I observe Bonfire's silent contemplation. Emmet Knox weighs the words from Abraham painfully, with his face faithful to his perplexion. Still, in less than ten seconds, the Haashch'eezhini bows his head for the scythe to take, making sure to place one hand on his heart and the other beyond him, a smile on his face that reflects on the blade.

It is a simple resignation of his life, bestowing complete faith in Abraham and, by extension, me. What a... what a pure man. He doesn't doubt me in the slightest.

Tears wallow in my eyes as the blade descends and removes Emmet Knox's head, my friend dying for a second time. Fire flows out of the open veins and arteries, not blood. It chills me to the core, even as I wait silently. I cannot move yet.

I have to wait until I feel the Court's presence fade.

So, I simply observe without motion or emotion while Abraham screams beside me. I listen to only the first sentence before tuning him out.

"Save him! Wha—"

My jaw creaks with agony as I even listen to Bonfire's soul howl in betrayal. He yearns, he expects, and he desires salvation. Yet, as the Reaper leans down to take the heart from his chest, he doesn't plead or beg. He merely waits for me to move.

But I don't. The Court is still here. It's still watching. And so... I remain still.

The Reaper takes Bonfire's heart with skeletal fingers, a fiery core that houses his soul and walks toward the edge of this realm. Space distorts with each step as it seems to just die, vanishing before the robed figure.

Swiftly, the agent of Death, with near-impossible-to-discern bits of Darklight wafting off it, reaches the boundary of this minor plane. The Crimson Court doesn't prevent or halt this being's travel. Instead... it opens a gate to the outside as its job is done.

With a pounding heart, I see the Reaper take a single step out of the gate, half in, half out. And that is when I move, for the Court has left.

With all the velocity of a ray of light, I allow for nothing less than for my soul to wrap around Bonfire's petering flames. Death's agent immediately whirls backward, striking out at something that isn't there. It cannot hurt me in this form. I know it cannot, but... this being isn't what I'm worried about.

So, before Death, or worse, the Mother Below turns their attention to me, I grasp onto Bonfire's soul, letting his flames jump onto mine like a parasite of some kind. It hurts. It hurts so much that I cannot even describe the feeling; I can only compare it to Usen's shattering.

But as I hold this tiny spark of life within my soulful hands, and a domineering presence falls upon me, I can see the similarities between the first creatures and Bonfire. Born from nothing, with no one and not a speck of care, they find others of their own kind, those that wish only to burn brightly. They do not care for how long; they solely hope to burn.

With the hopeful soul in my hands, I glance upward at the open gate. A skeletal hand, removed of all flesh with a thousand creeping, biting maws, reaches out toward me. This one... this one will hurt.

"Now, Abraham. Now or never."

Spinning around to face my friend, I cradle Bonfire's radiant everything and... turn my back toward the Pale Lady's cruel bite.

****************************

Abraham 'Psionic Nails' Ulren

A second before Wyatt's whole mental construct is overwhelmed by... whatever that is, I pull the plug on Daymare, refusing to put any more of his monstrous volumes of Ether into it that he can somehow share. With that... he only gets bit by the hand once.

But once is still too much.

Returning to our location, I see that the Graves has fallen to his knees spitting out blood and bile, still cradling a miniature flame in his hands. It is nothing but a spark, one that... that would prelude a mere bonfire, not a resurrection. Nevertheless, Wyatt refuses to lose consciousness just yet.

I can see that his mind is teetering on failure, like that of a broken organ. It is... hardly there. He's pushed himself too far too quickly. A Demigod, yes, but a boy nonetheless. I drop to a knee to join him as all the others are fighting a war against a crimson sky.

"What? What do I do now?"

Wyatt fumbles with his left hand, reaching down for something. As he does so, I realize what he wants. The Lily. Nodding, I retrieve the legendary Colt for him, handing it to his trembling palms. Visibly, the tremors seem to calm, but the soul remains horribly marred. The boy doesn't care. He aims the gun at a point in the sky, firing it without ammo three times in a row.

A hushed lily tapping upon a river falls into my hearing despite all that surrounds us. A demon dies just a foot away, unable to resist the rains any longer. Marion and Otto stick with Birde, relying on her faltering shields to protect them. Lennon guards the most people, his mere reign enough to bolster the likes of Odyss, Inerea, Silas, and Aniwye to keep up. However, I can tell the swordsman's goal is to cover Wyatt's head. How long they'll last is unknown to me.

What I do know is that a little girl appears beside me, her eyes shaped like spider lilies with identically crimson fangs nestled in her maw. It is a terrifying sight, but I've long lost the recoil reaction of fear. I merely gaze at her as her attention falls on Bonfire.

"Big brother Wyatt said Bono is the key to our survival. That... Bono can burn souls with his help. But... Big brother is hurt. So... I don't know what to do."

The beady eyes of the lass throw me off. She reminds me so much of a genuine child that, for a moment, I can't reply. Still, I get my shit together as the clock is ticking. This is a 9th Sigiled Colt. She might look like a child, but she is vastly more powerful than I.

"Just do what you can."

The Blooming Spider Lily nods, reaching out to the fire in Wyatt's hands. Then, she cups the flame before water emerges from her palms, dousing the fire. My heart craters knowing my friend is dead. Without that flame...

"Bono! Big brother doesn't want you to die! So I won't let you!"

Just as I collapse to the ground, the fire reignites through the abyssal waves, consuming even the waters of the Cardinal with its heat. Lily drops the fires with a yipe of pain, backing away as a being of fire quickly emerges to stand before me.

Emmet Knox. Without any scars, blemishes, or burns. He even has all his clothes on, something not all that common, to be honest. Hard to get him out of a brothel if there is one nearby and he has spare cash. Still... he is now made of fire, born of fire, and nothing but fire. Though... he is still younger than he should be, at most fourteen or so. He won't like that.

Still, the smile on his face tells me nothing has changed at the core. Bonfire steps forward, hauling me to my feet for a hug. It's warm, absurdly warm, but none of the licking flames burn. They only... nourish.

"Good to see you, friend."

"You, too. I see you came quite a long way."

Emmet Knox immediately jumps into a boast before doing something uncharacteristic. He stops for something more important.

"Of course! I even died twice! Ha—Sorry. That can wait. There is something I have to do. Wyatt asked me."

Bonfire pivots to face the sky, the exact point at which the Blooming Spider Lily was shot. Then, he rummages through Wyatt's pack to find some sort of spyglass. With a proud grin, the man aims it at the sky as I feel...

A wellspring of energy surge from Bonfire. Twin flames, pale creation and abyssal destruction flow together into that spyglass. Yet... I feel no Ether the moment they meet. It is as if some authority has taken control of the flames and turned them into something... magnificent.

"I made a promise I'd take things seriously. And... Wyatt? If you can hear me... This is my guarantee."

With Emmet's final word, I comprehend what is manifesting before me. A Dominion of primordial fire, wrought with the same potential as that of the stars, of creation and destruction, emerges from that spyglass into the point in the sky.

The beam of fire—no, the beam of Bonfire's soul made into reality—struts through the crashing crimson as if they do not exist, evaporating all the liquid in the sky. Then, the light hits the point, the minor crack formed from Lily's bullets.

A blinding light that proceeds through closed eyes devours all the darkness. The heat overwhelms me, washing over my body, but it is only painful for a split second. Then, it rejuvenates, it nourishes, it... creates.

When I reopen my eyes, there are no more arenas, no more battlegrounds, no more red skies and falling lava. The region above is dark, not the sun I've come to miss so dearly, but the darkness alone is a comfort. Living every day under the threat of collapsing magma is not ideal.

I sink to my knees as all others follow, those that remain echoing my relieved gasps and agony. I don't wallow in the exhaustion for long. Gritting my teeth, I hobble to Wyatt's crouched form with Lily beside him.

"Will he be alright?"

The Colt nods with those awful fangs. Nevertheless, she is not as joyful as the rest of us are. Though, it's hard to be with those celebrating demons. This... to escape Hell is every demon's goal. Inerea and Odyss are the only ones from our group who still live. It seems the others... were too weak or not cared for enough by Lennon, Birdie, and Virgil.

It pains me, but Lily's response warms the coldness.

"Yes. It'll take a few days, but I'm feeding him all the dying souls nearby! Just... keep us safe! Uhh... yeah!"

I nod, so very relieved to hear the news. Then, I collapse onto my back, unable to be strong any longer.