Chapter Text
White-hot heat seared through his chest but Joshua refused to slow down the pace of his running. Jote was swiftly running as well, ever by his side. Sheer adrenaline was the only force that kept his intense sleep deprivation at bay as he and Jote fled from the Royalist guards chasing them.
They had not slept for two nights.
Two nights.
For over twenty-four hours, they had endured imprisonment in the hell that was Caer Norvent. The traumatic events that unfolded during their captivity stretched out before them as they ran through the grass fields.
The mind games, Jote’s excruciating torture, the sheer number of disturbing injuries inflicted upon her to manipulate him, the anguish of hearing her screams from the other room, the absolute hatred he felt towards the Warden of the Wind, Benedikta Harman. Once he was freed from the crystal fetters and then found Jote to heal her, he witnessed much she had suffered on his behalf by the sheer amount of healing it took to bring her back to her normal state.
Although Joshua healed all of Jote’s egregious wounds, he knew that she would always carry that memory underneath her skin until her dying day. That thought alone made him wish he could burn down the entire fortress if he had the luxury of time. Thankfully, he felt Benedikta’s powers disappear from her which implied her probable demise – a debt of gratitude he would one day owe to Cidolfus Telamon.
When he requested Jote to create a distraction to release the Bearers, he knew that Jote had used a bit of her efforts as an unbranded fire Bearer to snap her fingers and ignite crates of gunpowder to explode. The resulting flames that burned parts of the castle were good enough for Joshua.
Despite the fact that a separate unknown commotion had set the Royalists into a frenzy, a few straggler guards had spotted them as they fled from the castle.
Joshua and Jote fled in the direction of Rosaria because fleeing to Tabor would only bring the Royalists closer to their hideout. And yet how much longer would they have to run before the Royalists gave up or lost them?
The answer came to Joshua immediately as soon as Jote let out a cry of pain.
One of the Royalists had thrown a dart knife and it had grazed Jote’s upper arm.
Enough.
With that thought, the rage consumed Joshua and burst forth in the form of flaming columns and explosions as he ceased his running and turned around to direct them at the guards. This was the first time since Phoenix Gate that he had unleashed catastrophic flames with lethal intent.
The Royalists screamed in agony as they keeled over, their bodies charred and turning into ash, much like the guards that were burned away in a fiery inferno at the Caer when Joshua had stepped out of his prison cell.
Though he rarely used his Eikon’s gifts to kill and destroy, he did it for the woman that protected him and suffered tremendously for him.
It was retribution.
Though she was his shield, he swore he'd sooner face damnation than allow any further harm to befall her. In the past day and night, she had suffered enough in the name of the Phoenix. This moment solidified into a crystallized vow within Joshua’s heart. He would protect her in any way he could - even if that meant pulling himself away from her.
~*~*~*~*
Beyond the rocks bordering the meadows, the blond-haired young man with the orange and ashen garbs stayed hidden out of sight as he spied upon the scene with wonderous eyes.
Gav could feel the heat of the flames all the way from his hiding spot. Spewing great bouts of fire like a volcano, the Dominant of Fire stretched out his hand and annihilated the Royalists before him, his petite retainer standing by his side, gripping her arm and attempting to catch her breathing.
There was a silence as the flames ceased and all that was left was smoky entrails. The Dominant placed his outstretched hand back to his side and turned towards his retainer.
Gav immediately hid behind the rocks so that the Dominant would not sense his presence and direct his holy flames of hell right at him.
“Holy fuck! That’s the Dominant of Fire all right! Better haul ass and tell Cid and Clive about this.”
He listened carefully to make sure there were no other sounds. The morning birds timidly resumed their melodies. Gav’s eyes peered above the rock, revealing only the early morning sunrays illuminating the blackened field. The charred remains of the Royalists lay scattered about while the hooded man and his green-clad retainer vanished without a trace.