Chapter Text
The sky chokes on smoke. Screams and embers both fill the air, as the last of the island’s stragglers are caught up in the untimely beginning of the mount’s eruption. And they were all so close to getting off the island.
Aisa turns his face into the stinging air, casts his gaze around for the last of them. “Fear not! The vessel is here! Do not lose your way!” With his staff in his right hand, he wills its blade to life: a scythe of aether, shimmering violet, to light the choking, dust-ridden dark. A bit ominous, he must admit, but he hadn’t the time to alter the incantation.
The residents make admirably fast time boarding the vessel, anxiously muttering among themselves, but quieting further when they manage to catch sight of his black mask. Whispers abound, hushed utterances of “… could it be?”, and “…sent by the Convocation?” rising from their lips. Aisa tries not to look visibly sheepish. Let the citizenry think this is a sanctioned operation, and let the Convocation think that he was never involved.
With the last resident in sight beginning to board, Aisa turns quickly to the helmsman, who is doing his level best at a clear head count. “Is that all of them?” The helmsman shakes his head, his sweaty face drawn terribly tight. “There’s no way to tell, in this smoke. My records are completely out of order.” Aisa looks out into the dark, scanning for movement. “Do you think you can wait?” He asks.
The helmsman shakes his head once more, his mouth twisting. “The mount sits by the river ways. Any longer, and the flow will start to cover the water and seal us in. It’s already bad enough worrying about raining flames.”
“Please, wait! My friend - Khalkeus! He’s not here!” A voice rises as a woman urges her way out of the crowd to stand before Aisa. “Could he have gone on a previous vessel?” Aisa keeps his tone level, firm. A drop of cold sweat traces down his back. The woman shakes her head. “No, he- he couldn’t stand the lines, his legs- “ her voice breaks off as she covers her mouth, shaking her head helplessly. Her tears are lit red by distant fire.
“I shall find him, and bring him here.” Aisa clasps her shoulder, looking her in the eyes. He holds her gaze for a long moment, until she can finally nod, mute. To the helmsman he says, “Set off, as soon as you can.” The woman opens her mouth in dismay, about to protest, but Aisa has already leapt from the vessel to the ground below, taking off into the darkness.
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“Khalkeus! Khalkeus, are you there?!” Aisa calls into the falling night. The smoke is only growing thicker, and the fires brighter. If he means to quell this eruption before it destroys the entire island, he must do it soon. He curses quietly to himself, before calling even louder. “Khalkeus!”
There is no response. Ash continues to rain, pricking his skin with heat before falling away.
Aisa makes his way deeper into the island, past abandoned homes and empty courtyards. No movement, no man. Where could he be? There is no timely way for Aisa to scour the entirety of this island before the eruption rocks it apart. He hadn’t even managed to ask her where Khalkeus might be.
There is little else for it.
Aisa closes his eyes, focusing his vision. When he opens them again, he has to grit his teeth. The world is alight with fiery aether, red streaks suffusing the air all around, as the volcano’s heat falls over the island in a smoky pall. Beneath it, it’s difficult to even sight the green of flora, the brown of earth and stone. Crowns of green that reach into the sky — palm trees, he realizes — are daubed red, then enveloped in it. As the choking haze of volcanic ash spreads, everything is beginning to burn red.
The aether’s incandescence pierces beyond his eyes and into the soft spaces behind, but Aisa does not turn away. He presses on, looking for the areas where the aether burns weakest, or is only beginning to fill. The hidden pockets behind walls, or stone, even shallow water. His eyes suddenly sting, like as not ash falling in them, but Aisa can only flinch. He does not close his eyes. He will not.
Thankfully, he does not see the red-pink-white of living beings around. The evacuations were for the most part effective. Unfortunately, this means Khalkeus isn’t here either. He overturns stones and fallen structures, delving into rivers sluggish with volcanic silt, calling Khalkeus’s name all the while.
He only turns up dust and seething air.
Aisa presses deeper into the island. Time is running out. His jaw works, incensed beyond profanity. He must find the man and deliver him to safety. To his friend. But he also aims to save this island. Can he even achieve both ends?
Aisa grits his teeth. He will do what he can.
He strains, pushing the limits of his sight. Further, pushing past the grey of monuments and the thin green of vineyards, and further still. Too many places to look, and not nearly enough time. Suddenly he’s sent reeling, clutching at his eyes. White-hot aether leaping into rivers of bleeding red. He had seen the volcano’s heart.
Aisa blinks away tears, and when he realizes what he’s done, curses. After-images of the volcano linger and double in his eyes, only slightly fainter than the original. With their light clouding his vision, he nearly stumbles off a ledge.
Helpless but to look at the ghosts of aether, he sees something. A pocket of deep grey at the base of the mountain, where no magma tainted it white. That’s naturally impossible, at that elevation. But if something could last that long in the volcano’s heart… it must be the safest shelter in miles. If it was even a structure, and not just solid bedrock. Theorizing could only get him so far. Aisa had to do something.
Breathing heavily, Aisa focuses his sight once more. His eyes sting, not even close to fully recovered, even ignoring how he’d looked into the aetheric center of a blasted volcano. Keeping from looking directly into the volcano, he peers into that pocket of grey, foregoing reach for detail. The monuments and vineyards fall away as he looks deeper, and deeper. There, at the heart —- the faintest bundle of arterial red, arranged in the form of a man. The only one for miles around.
Eyes burning, Aisa spreads a hand and leaps. Before his feet can touch the ground, the broad back of a lustrous eagle coalesces beneath him, bearing him aloft. Shining wings spread and send them surging forth, towards the erupting mount.