NOVEL FROG Chapter 122 – Fire
Time seemed to stretch in Beelzebub’s eyes as she prepared to move. Ben’s wings slowed to a crawl and flickering lights slowed to a pulse. Sound, light, it all fell behind in Beelzebub’s perception of the world. She could move fast. Very fast. It had taken tremendous effort just to see what was happening when she moved so fast. Back when she had beaten Toh, she could scarcely even perceive the world around her as she moved. At her top speed, she was still uncontrolled, like back then. But thanks to Bedivere, she could now move faster than anyone in the hive. Even Belial’s stupid bullets were like gentle motes of dust paused in the air. She would quickly go to the fire and figure out what was going on. Before she moved, she heard Greyan’s voice.
“Wake the others. I’ll go ahead.”
In Beelzebub’s world, everything was slow, because she was fast. Ben was fast too, but she was the fastest. So when Greyan lept from the window and dashed down the street so quickly he was nearly a blur, a fire was lit in Beelzebub’s eyes. How could a human move at that speed? Was he faster than Beelzebub?
Impossible. She wouldn’t allow it. Impossible.
Mustering all the control she had, Beelzebub sped along the rooftops as fast as she could without causing wanton destruction. It wasn’t fair. She had to hold back to stay hidden, so Greyan maintained a steady lead. The man dashed through the streets, kicking up dust as he ran. At some point, his helmet had come up, encasing his head in a solid shell of metal. Above the frontal cone, a translucent material, presumably a sort of metal, covered a tiny slit for his eyes, meaning his entire body was unexposed to the outside. The crest of his helmet was the only unusual thing about the otherwise simple design; it flew backwards in a single spike, painted a deep red, nearly as angry as Beelzebub’s own red stripes.
The streets were empty, so Greyan could run through without a care. Beelzebub noted the lack of people; every other night saw pedestrians of all sorts making their way through town, even at the youngest hours. Every window was shut tight, every door bolted. Not unusual for this town, necessarily, but the silence within the typically chatty homes sent a shiver through Beelzebub’s body. It annoyed her that humans could unnerve her like this, and something as simple as a small change in their behavior was the culprit. Why were they so inconsistent? So unpredictable? Greyan and his strength excited Beelzebub, which she expected. But to be uncomfortable was a feeling she distinctly did not like.
Despite the dark night, the pulsing light of the fire was large and bright enough to see from far away, and it was clearly originating from the square. And as they approached, they could even see the flames licking the sky, beginning to reach above the rooftops. A gentle chant grew louder as they approached. The both of them reached the town square from the inn in only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. When they arrived, what greeted them stopped both newcomers in their tracks.
The town square, once mundane and dilapidated, had transformed beyond recognition into a scene of horror. Dancing shadows blended with dark, robed figures walking in a circle, striding with exaggerated, looping steps. They paced in a gentle rhythm, chanting in time with their steps, their words mostly gibberish but their tone soothing. Despite the ominous atmosphere, the entire affair was calm and orderly. Each wore identical masks, all with x-shaped eyeholes. The conglomeration of over thirty people walked around a massive bonfire set next to the old fountain, and what lay within the flame shook Beelzebub to her core.
Seyorohon’s unmoving corpse was obscured by the smoke and fire, propped against a wooden log. Charred, nearly unrecognizable. His left arm was bent to his chest, his finger held against his mouth as if telling someone to be silent. His other arm was stuck above him, pointing straight into the sky. On his feet, his old soldier boots crumbled to ash. As if invigorated by the meal, the flame rose higher and higher, cracking and roaring like a starving beast.
Beelzebub felt a sickness rise within her. Humans had done this. To one of their own. How could they do such a thing? She had felt a spot of guilt after telling Ben some light insults; how would she feel doing this?
Her head pounded. Furious buzzing exploded from the hive. She looked at Greyan. The man’s fists clenched hard enough for his armor to creak, but they just as quickly relaxed. His shoulders slumped. This wasn’t fair. What these people had done wasn’t fair, it was just… violence.
Didn’t Beelzebub crave violence?
In the next moment, Greyan dashed forward, surprising Beelzebub and turning the once-calm congregation’s chants into cries of fear. He moved quickly and efficiently, weaving between the robed people like water. Precise punches and chops knocked the robed people off their feet, though the groans and yelps implied he was holding back. The people were being kept alive; the Knight Commander would want them alive and well for what would come next. Systematically, he brought people down, but many were nearly as quick to react. People ran in all directions, ducking into alleys and side streets to avoid Greyan’s fury. Beelzebub almost wanted to jump in and help, but she refrained.
A dozen people crumpled to the ground, but dozens more were making their escape. Greyan moved, catching people before they managed to leave, but there were too many, and some disappeared into the shadows. Worse, as he moved, some people he had downed began to groan and rise once again. Beelzebub knew he would never catch them all, at least not while holding back as he was doing.
Screams suddenly emanated from the dark alleys. Sounds of fighting exploded, and several bodies began to fly back into the square. Greyan didn’t pause, continuing to grab the robed people and throw them to the floor. Beelzebub already knew who had arrived. The other Knights stepped from the alleys, limp bodies in tow. They wore their armor, as if they had slept in it. Each wore a helmet that obscured their faces, the general design identical to Greyan’s, though each crest was unique. With their help, Greyan moved with conviction to round up the rest of the congregation.
Herwen and Meyara were brutal in their beatings. Jey less so. Each avoided approaching the pyre, and Meyara avoided looking at it entirely.
In no time at all, every single robed human had been captured and thrown into the square, huddling together like a puddle of shadows. The Knights, breathing lightly from the effort, encircled them with their weapons drawn. Though they were greatly outnumbered, the sheer presence of their Minds alone kept the congregation in check.
All told, the entire ordeal lasted less than three minutes. The Knights closed in on the crowd as the mercenaries finally arrived in the square. Beelzebub was eventually joined by Ben on a nearby rooftop, and they were both silent as they watched what transpired below.
Greyan stepped away from the crowd, towards the still-burning bonfire. With a wave of his arms, the fire was crushed, smothered by the power of his Mind. Darkness descended on the square as the flame disappeared, the only light coming from sparse lanterns.
The Knights’ breath was steady, hidden by cold metal. In contrast, the mercenaries, disoriented and confused, stood on the main street. The image of Seyorohon imprinted itself on the Minds of the bees, and the hive buzzed in muted tones. All they could do now was wait.