Chapter 32: A fiery escape.

Sleep did not come easy to Zyra, because she didn’t trust her environment. And she was right not to, because the door was opened in the middle of the night. She kept her eyes closed, hands on the blade in the pocket of her jacket.

The intruder smelled of cigars, cheap beer and wet fur. She knew without a doubt that It was Ocean. He had come looking for the compass! He rummaged through her bag, and slowly backed out of the room, muttering curses.

In that moment, Zyra knew the alliance could not be held. Not for another day. She needed to escape.

***

The exit plan from the brothel had already been secured the previous night. At around 4:00 A.M, Zyra snapped her eyes open. There was no time to waste. It was time to put the grand escape plan into action.

She summoned the Storm Tail Squirrel out of the beast domain. "Alright, little buddy," Zyra whispered, crouching down. "Your first official mission. I need you to start a fire."

Beauty immediately chimed in, filled with pure skepticism. [Host, are you serious? Look at that little guy. The only training it has done since you got it is jumping from one tree to another. It’s a glorified fluff ball, not a flamethrower...at least not yet.]

"Hey, don’t underestimate my squirrel," Zyra muttered back defensively.

[If you’re desperate, I can lend you a low-tech lighter from the System shop for just a few points,] Beauty tempted, her voice dripping with the tone of a shady merchant. [Guaranteed to light up in any weather!]

"No way," Zyra said firmly. "I am absolutely not diving any deeper into your debt, especially when I don’t have to. You’ll probably charge me 200 resonance points." Zyra paused, looking back at the confused squirrel. "Anyway... how do I train it in thirty minutes to start a fire with lightning. Do you have a manual?"

Beauty rolled her digital eyes so hard Zyra could practically hear it. [Why do you need a manual with me here? All it has to do is wiggle its tail vigorously. Friction and energy will do the rest. A flame will form at the tip.]

"Easy enough!" Zyra clapped her hands once, giving the squirrel a bright, encouraging smile. "I believe in you, buddy! Show Beauty what you’ve got!"

The Storm Tail Squirrel puffed out its tiny chest, making a squeaking sound as if it had just accepted a sacred warrior’s challenge. It stood on its hind legs and began to wiggle its tail.

Left. Right. Left. Right.

Nothing happened.

"Come on, you can do it!" Zyra cheered, trying to boost its morale. To really get the energy going, she started singing a ridiculous, upbeat song under her breath, shaking and wiggling her own butt to show the squirrel the proper rhythm. "Shake that tail, shake that tail, burn this whole place down...!"

Sparks actually began to fly off the fur!

"Yes! Just like that! Go faster! Maximum speed!" Zyra hissed excitedly.

The squirrel’s tail became a blurry wheel of motion. A bright, crackling flame burst to life right on the tip of its tail. The squirrel looked shocked by its own power, squeaking in panic as Zyra quickly guided it toward the flammable materials.

Zyra didn’t hesitate. She used the tiny flame to set the curtains on fire. She even threw in some of her highly flammable clothes to feed the flames. Within minutes, the fire went wild. The dry, post-apocalyptic wooden walls caught instantly, the hungry orange flames roaring toward the ceiling.

"Fire! Fire! Help!" Zyra screamed at the top of her lungs, acting completely terrified. She blew into a whistle, which made a noise as loud as the howl of a fox at midnight.

That sound would be enough to wake everyone within a one-mile radius. As predicted, she heard footsteps. Rushed. Heavy. They were accompanied by panicked voices.

As soon as the door was broken, she bolted. She ran out of the room, loudly blowing into her whistle. "Feral beast," she screamed. "Feral beast."

The brothel went crazy, with people entering, and others existing. Half-dressed guests, naked ones, drunk ones, they flooded the streets.

In the chaos, a young woman that was coughing tore away from the alley, a massive, triumphant smile on her face. But she couldn’t celebrate for long. Zyra knew that Ocean was probably looking for her already. He wanted the compass, and he had knowledge of her existence. A man like him wouldn’t pass up that kind of easy money.

"I need a bodyguard," Zyra muttered to herself, blending into the morning crowd of the small town. "And fast."

With her new Soul Sight, she could see right through people’s souls.... whether they were genuinely good or rotten to the core. And she knew where to find the kind of person that she was looking for. In the fighting Pits or arenas.

It was a brutal, chaotic place where humans and wild beasts fought to the death for food and energy stones. In every town, there was a branch of The Pits.

With nimble hands, she nabbed a bicycle from the side walk, blowing her whistle again, to maximize the frenzy. When everyone was trying to escape for survival, who had time to locate a stolen bicycle?

She rode on. until she came to the market that sold the highest volume of beast meat. Behind every market like this, was an alley leading to a branch of The Pits. Zyra dropped the bicycle, and continued on foot, wrapping a scarf around her head.

Somewhere in the alley, she found the door leading into a building with a bright green ’P’. She paid five low grade stones for access. All the while, her heart was racing wildly.

What seemed like a building outside, was a small arena on the inside, with seats and rings where fights were held. There was a betting area and a food court.

Inside, the atmosphere was thick with the smell of sweat, blood, and cheap alcohol. Local agents were crowded around shouting, betting, and laughing loudly. Some were throwing curses into the air because their fighters were currently losing in the pits.

Zyra felt a bit lost. She moved around the food court, which sold everything from spiked fighting merchandise to greasy, questionable food, keeping her ears wide open.

Feeling her stomach growl, she sat down at a lone table and bought a cheap bowl of hot porridge. As she stirred the bland mush, she listened to a group of rough-looking men gossiping nearby.

"Did you see him yesterday? He literally ripped that high rank beast apart with his bare hands!" one man yelled, taking a swig of liquor.

"Yeah, but what’s the point?" another grumbled. "His agent is a total leech. Took all the beast stones from the kill. Left him with barely enough to buy a piece of stale bread. The guy is a walking corpse at this point."

"That is a rumor, does a starving man look like him? Who would dare try and challenge him? He must be putting on a show with his agent." Another said

Zyra’s ears perked up. A powerful fighter who was being mistreated? This was exactly what she needed! But how expensive was he? Would she have to kidnap him?