A Chance For Survival
It had been a hell of a night for everyone in St. Curtis.
Buwaro lay in the burning inn. Sno – Kieri – was probably going to be killed. Who knew where Rhea was. She'd probably abandoned him.
Abandoned him like the trash he was.
He deserved this, if he was being honest with himself. He'd tried so hard to do just one thing right. To save Kieri at least, to stop his brother, to get the burning and chaos and everyone's pain and misery to stop, and he couldn't even do that.
He couldn't do anything. Fireball, fight, speak, read, he could do nothing. He was worthless.
His sobs filled the inn, echoing with his misery and self-loathing.
Silence seemed to fall around him. "He really isn't that bad a person, is he?" he heard, and jumped, scrambling in the strange, dull void of red and yellow around him.
"No, he isn't. That is what the girl was trying to tell you, Melli."
Buwaro whirled to see Moku and Melli – the Guardians. But Moku, at least, seemed different – his eyes were both orange, rather than one red and one green. "You're wondering who I am," the Snake Guardian replied. "Simply put, I'm the previous Moku. The current one murdered me for my power, but he did not acquire it all."
Buwaro swallowed, quaking like a leaf in the wind. "Um...I hope that's a good thing?" he tried, clearly about to wet himself from terror.
"Easy, child," Melli sighed, slowly shrinking to the form of –
"Weren't you the one that yelled at me and Sn – k-Kieri?" he asked.
"Yes, I was," she sighed, massaging her sinuses. "I'm sorry. I honestly thought you were like every other Demon I've encountered."
The ex-Moku also shrank to a Jakkai's form. "Technically, we can take any Median form with practice, but it makes it easier to just have one or two set forms. In any case, our main point: you want to help, right?"
"Yes," he mumbled. "But I'm so useless and stupid..."
"You're not useless or stupid if you can convince a Warrior Angel to be your friend," Moku chuckled. "You have charisma, which is a powerful ability in anyone's hands. You just need to learn to use it right."
"That being said," Melli sighed, "physically, you're no fighter – which is why we're going to help you. It will hurt, but you will be able to slay foes with but a few scratches with time and practice. After all, poison can kill anyone."
Buwaro nodded. "Anything for her."
Moku nodded. "Just remember this: she still cares for you, but she has troubles of her own. Be there for them," he told the boy –
And with a sudden bite and sting, Buwaro's world became numb and blurry.
And suddenly, he was awake. Scrambling upright, he saw some green liquid on his claws. Stumbling out the door, he saw the Fire Demon woman from the wagon, still beat up but not paying attention to him.
Righteous fury filled him. He may have been weak, but they did this. They created this pain, this suffering. He rushed forward, and she turned in time to see his claws sink into her gut. He felt the green liquid seep into her wound, and she gasped.
She fell, choking on nothing, before shivering and lying still.
Buwaro flinched. That had been too easy. He stared at the... poison in his claws. He could squirt it from his claws with a thumbclaw clench, and he realized his breath felt the same kind of liquid weight.
He concentrated on his fire breath, but instead puffed out a small cloud of green. Seeing that, his eyes widened.
He ran. He wasn't sure where to go, but he had to do something now that he could.