To-go Order

Ash danced in the air like leaves in fall. Gently drifting back down to earth, only to rise again on clouds of sparks highlighting the currents of hot air. My skin felt like it had been roasted over hell's barbecue pit. The devil must like his meat well done. My head lolled off to the left in response to the sharp cracking sounds of the building's main supports burning up and giving way. To bad, the place actually had passable Chinese food. Nothing like the real deal,but better than most of the knock offs in america. That was small town quality at its finest.

The gravel I had collapsed on was digging painfully into my blistered shoulders. The shock and insanity of the night was starting to wear off and the haze from the adrenaline weaken, letting the pain it was suppressing to bleed through. The ringing in my ears started undulating. Slowly morphing into the theme music of the fire and police departments. My thoughts started to form around the fact that I didn't want to be here when they arrived.

Moving seemed unthinkable, but I tore my eyes away from the smoke fogged stars and rolled onto the shoulder that felt marginally better. I got on my hands and knees, decided to play it safe, and crawled over to where I thought I saw my coat last. The unassuming jacket had survived without so much as a scratch on it. I gently threw it over my shoulders. A cool wave of relief washed over me as the leather shell reflected the heat away from my raw skin.

I chanced standing and found that, while shaky, it was possible. I hobbled down the nearest alley just as the police cars rounded the last corner, their lights turning the smoke blue and red in addition to dull orange. With one last look, I turned my singed posterior to face them and shuffled back to the motel.

Another thing about small towns, unlike big cities, is that everything is farther away. In a city, you could find everything you need in about 5 blocks from any direction. The lack of confinement in a town like this seems to give people the need to build important things, like the hotels and restaurants, as far apart as possible without letting them become separate, mini towns all their own.

By the time the motel came into view, the pain was making up for lost time. It was mainly my upper back, where the full force of the fireball struck me. I'd probably be a charred,smoking corpse if I hadn't felt the spell gathering energy and started preparing for a fight. But even with the extra toughness, the burns might still be enough to kill me if I didn't tend to them. This is going to be the last time I go anywhere without my coldbag. I had to grab a handful of ice from a serving tray to defend myself. The restaurant wouldn't be burning to the ground if I had. Charred, but not burning.

I passed a couple walking down the street. They had just stepped out from the small theater and started to head for their car. People can tell when someone is in a lot of pain, something about how their walk stiffens as they try to not move whatever's hurting too much. This couple's demeanor change to concern when they caught sight of me. I tried to smile and wave them off, but it must have looked more like a threat than a friendly gesture because they retreated into the closest building that was open. I huffed and continued to a door marked with bold, metal numbers. Suite 26. The newest home, sweet home.

I used my key to unlock the door, flipped on the lights, and shrugged out of the coat. On the way to the bathroom, I grabbed a small, drawstring pouch made out of a thick, insulated material. I pealed off the remnants of of the dark green T-shirt and turned toward the wide mirror.

Aside from a few patches that reminded me of the last time I tried cooking, my back had gotten by with only getting a few blisters and a new paint job. Cherry red wasn't my color.

I reached out with my awareness, a sensation that has always felt exactly like slowly sticking your hand in cool water except for it can touch things that are beyond normal reach and I could perceive things about what I touched with it that I shouldn't know. This time, I only reached for the bag in my hand. It's silky surface becoming more intimate, deeper. I knew it was insulative. If I looked harder, I could tell how much it could insulate or even what it was made of, but I pressed deeper. Inside of it was what looked to be a solar system, with 6 or 7 suns. Some were brighter than others, but each had vastly different, yet still similar, feels to them.

I curled my awareness around a sun that felt purple. I started to sink into it and felt the purple light flow into me. I opened eyes that I hadn't realized I shut, and watched the burns fade. I willed the worst to be healed first. Charred skin pealed itself off, revealing pale, new flesh. The blisters drained and the skin underneath toughened up. The top of the blisters would eventually rub off as they normally would if I hadn't healed them. The rest of the skin paled to a light sunburned color before I released the sun, now visibly dimmer, and swept up the layers of skin I had sloughed off. The remains of the T-shirt followed them into the trash.

Now healed, and in considerably less pain, I took into account how bad I smelled. I stripped and jumped into the shower. After pat drying my back and pulling on some sweats and a new shirt, I checked the damage the fighting had put on my resources and my plan. The witches jumped me before I even started to poke around, so something else had tipped them off. I wasn't sure what had been chewing on the livestock around here, leaving them with an overnight amputation, but witches fit the bill. They weren't human. A witch appears human except for razor teeth and it turns greenish when it is sick or poisoned. They would be okay if it wasn't for the craving for meat. Preferably bloody and fresh. They can live off of other foods but their reserves of energy for magic need meat to refill.

They're magic isn't like mine. Mine uses balance. I can suppress something's traits for a time, funneling them into a reservoir, so that later on I can compound the traits for my benefit. A witch's magic uses energy that can come from anywhere, and they channel that energy through different runes. The runes shape the spell into a desired outcome. The outcome of the witch's spell at the restaurant tonight was that I become a greasy spot on the floor from being incinerated. Some humans can use that kind of magic. They first have to carve the runes into something, but as they order their mind, and study the runes, they can start to cast spells on the fly. Witches never need to use the training wheels. As soon as they learn a rune, they can cast spells. Using the runes in the mind offer more intuitive control than the carved ones, better for fighting. Much more dangerous.

There was only one at the restaurant and I barely escaped. There was a whole coven here and they know about me. I dug in the bags I had brought, pulled out a rune carved lump of chalk. It was given to me by a friend and the subtle enchantment in the chalk would wake me if something crossed a line drawn by it. I drew a circle line across the front door, the front window, and the small one in the bathroom. One of those runes must have meant endless, because the chalk doesn't seem to get any smaller. I wrapped it back in its cloth and put it away. Then I climbed into the expertly made bed, unceremoniously wrapped myself in the covers, and fell into a much needed sleep