...So I Was Targeted

"L…Look, I had to do it…" I mutter. "Sure, I don't get hot… but when it comes to cold, I—"

This… would be the second day of awakening to find that I was tied up in my sleep. Though this time I might've deserved it…

Lyra, who's got my own sword in her grasp therefore preventing my escape, stands over me with an irate look. When paired with her scary vacant eyes, it makes it hard to keep myself composed.

"So?" she says in a condescending tone.

"Th-There was only one bedroll…" I mutter.

"And?"

"Th-That's it, I swear! I wasn't trying to feel you up in your sleep or anything!"

"The fact that you made it a point to say so in the first place makes me question the validity of your words," she says. She narrows her eyes and folds her arms. "Climbing into my bedroll for warmth is one thing. But clinging to me while I slept, with your face pressed into my chest is something else entirely. Kindly writhe in eternal damnation, lecherous hellion."

"H-Hey, I must've just gone to where it was warmest, y'know…"

"Like an insect," she says.

"I was thinking more like a cool reptile, but a bug is, well…"

She tries to threateningly angle my sword at me. But in less than a second of holding it out, she begins to strain and the tip falls to the ground. Must be too heavy.

"…I won't let you get away with it just like that…" she murmurs.

I let out a long sigh.

"Can you untie me already…?" I mutter. "And for that matter… how'd you get more rope? I thought I burnt it up yesterday…"

"Never mind that," she snaps. "For all your excuses, one simple aspect you neglect is a mere apology. Can you not muster something so simple?"

Ouch, hit with my own logic. But that said… I guess I really am in the wrong.

"…S-Since I'm striving to not be a hypocrite…" I mutter, "I'm… S… Sorry…"

"One would expect an apology from the want to make amends, not the shallow urge to uphold personal values," she says.

"Tying someone up in their sleep isn't exactly a healthy reaction, either…" I reply. "But… if I said I really was sorry, would you believe me?"

She watches me for a few seconds.

"…Rather… I would choose to forgive you," she says. "…This time alone. And never again."

"S-So you'll untie me…?"

"You can walk perfectly well without the use of your arms," she says.

"W-What…?"

"You should have… no—"

Before she can finish, a dreary look washes over her face.

"You alright…?" I ask.

"It's… it's nothing… nothing at…"

She suddenly collapses to the ground. The sword clatters aside. She remains still, unmoving.

"Lyra?!" I burst. I stick out my hand as far as it can reach under my bindings, and my sword zips around to me, once again severing the rope. I drop down beside her and lift her head up into my arms.

"S…So hot…" she mutters. Her eyes can't seem to open.

I put a hand on her forehead. Of course, I can't exactly tell if it's hotter than it's supposed to be.

"Dammit… Alright, I'm taking you into town," I say. "There's gotta be some kinda medical… guy, right…?"

Doesn't seem like she can respond.

It takes longer than it did yesterday, but I manage to hoist her up into my arms. She rests her head loosely on my shoulder while taking slow, weak breaths.

"Alright, we're heading out," I say, turning my head towards her.

I stand outside of the town for a bit longer than I probably should. I can't help but contemplate how they might react to me. I guess I'm just afraid to find out.

'Okay okay, enough bullshit,' I think to myself. 'I'll just… cover my mouth with… some spare cloth or something. There. Easy.'

Having done so, I stiffly take my first few steps back into town. And then I take off running.

"A-Anyone—?! I need help—!" I shout as I go. I don't know what I should be looking for. It's early morning and nobody's out of their homes. And the sheer number of buildings is causing my head to spin. "A-Anyone…?! Somebody…?!"

To my side, a door slowly creaks open. An older woman stands there, wearing a yellowish gown.

"Hello? What seems to be the matter?" she asks.

"U-Uh… M-My, uh… my frien— err… I think she's sick—!" I say. "She just… collapsed!"

"Oh my… Take her to the building with the white barrel out front straightaway," she says, pointing down the street. "That's where the doctor lives. He can help your friend."

"U-Uh— Got it!" I shout, taking off again.

The building with the white barrel is just a few houses down the main road. I rush up to it and bust open the door with my shoulder.

"Oy—!" I shout as I barge in. "Where's this 'doctor' guy I'm looking for?!"

The entryway is empty, but as I plod in, a thin old man peeks out from an open door.

"What's with all the ruckus so early in the damn morning?!" he bursts, throwing a shoe in my direction.

"Lyra's collapsed! I… think she's sick!" I say.

The man raises a thick gray eyebrow and begins to shuffle towards us.

"Alright, fine. Lemme see here…" He puts a hand on Lyra's forehead. A second later, he makes a ticking noise with his mouth. "Lass's got a fever. Not the worst I've seen, but depending on whatever's causing it, she might be in a bit of trouble."

"And you can, uh… tell what she's got, right?" I say.

"Yea, no trouble at all, I suppose," he replies, sighing. But then he glances up to me and furrows his brow. "Oy, didn't your mum ever teach you not to wear face coverings indoors? You want the devil to get ye?"

"Oh, this's just—"

"Improper's what it is. Get it off here."

"N-No, wait, hold on—"

I can't back away fast enough to avoid the old man's hand. He grabs it in his fist and yanks, pulling the whole thing free. I'm caught with a startled expression, my mouth agape for just a quick second. I quickly close it and turn slightly away. His eyes grow wide.

"Sorry," I say. "I just… need you to help her…."

The look in his eye turns to a wild fury.

"Y… You're a damned Firebrand!"

"A what now…?"

"I-I should've smelt out your filth from a mile away, and been ready at the gate with my bloody pitchfork in-hand!" he hollers. "Back! Out of here, you abomination of God's good will!"

"Who the hell cares about that?! Just tell me if Lyra's gonna be alright!"

The man takes several steps back and quickly glances off to the side. A pitchfork sits up against his wall. He grabs it and immediately points it threateningly at me.

"I-I SAID GET OUTTA HERE, DAMN YOU!" he threatens, baring his teeth as he shouts. Specks of saliva fly from his lip.

An anger boils up inside me. One I've never felt before. It starts in my chest and spreads out through my veins with each beat of the heart. My skin feels hot. I grit my teeth and face the man.

"And I said…" I mutter. "TELL ME IF SHE'S GONNA BE ALRIGHT, YOU OLD FUCK!!!"

A look of fright suddenly washes over him and he stumbles backwards, tripping and landing on his ass.

"S-Stay away…" he whimpers, holding out his hand in fear.

It's then, as my anger reaches its climax, that a sudden realization occurs. As a burning smell hits my nose, so too does Lyra erupt in a pained scream, her entire body doubling over in my arms. Only as I look down, I realize my arms are glowing a boiling red from underneath the skin. But not just my arms… my entire body, as I come to realize. My clothes are singed and smoke rises from it. The red has already begun to fade by the time my brain processes what I'm seeing. And what caused Lyra to scream…. The back of her neck has been scorched from where I was holding her.

Before I think to rectify the situation, the old man grits his teeth and once again grabs the pitchfork from the ground.

"H-Help—! S-Somebody!" he hollers. "F-Firebrand—! There's a Firebrand in my clinic—!"

I hear commotion. Several doors burst open throughout the town, and urgent voices fill the streets. My heartbeat races and I frantically snap my gaze around. I grit my teeth and run up to the door, kicking it open with all my might, sending it off the hinges. As I do, I see a sparse group of people forming outside. They point and shout. A few have weapons. But they're still too open to stop me from leaving. I hug Lyra closer to my chest and take off running.

"There he is—!" I hear from behind me.

"Screw you all—!" I shout back. Tears begin to form in my eyes. So I instead tuck my head in towards Lyra as I continue to run. "…S-Sorry… I-I'm sorry…"

I dash as fast as I can towards the front gate. But as I do, I hear more and more footsteps behind me. For all the endurance I have, carrying Lyra is slowing me down. At this rate, they'll catch me not far past the walls. If I can only—

As I near the gate, I suddenly see a figure step out just in front of me from behind the wall, silhouetted by the light of the newly cresting sun. I'm so close that I can't stop in time to avoid hitting them. I try to swerve around them, but they abruptly reach out their arms and pull me into them. Before I can fully register, they pivot around and direct me behind the wall, out of sight from the approaching mob.

"Th-That witch from yesterday! I just saw her!" I hear.

The men come into view. I try to free myself from the figure's grasp, but they hold firm. I glance up towards the gate.

"Wh-Where'd they go…?" comes one of the men.

"Wait… they can't see u—" I begin, but the figure hushes me.

I glance up at the one who had pulled us aside. They who now holds me tight against their chest is… a gorgeous woman.

She has a head of light purple hair mostly obscured by a large, floppy hat. Her eyes are a similar color to her hair, a vibrant watery violet. Despite their slightly angular form, they have this comforting softness to them, the way she concernedly glances around. Her jawline has this graceful curve to it, and her lips are lightly pursed as she watchfully monitors the men beyond. Her brow above her eyes are slightly kneaded in concentration.

We watch as the men slowly give up one after another and return back into the walled town. Only then, as the last man passes out of sight, does the woman slowly release her arms.

"Quite the superstitious townspeople, those ones," she says, turning to me. She puts a hand on her hip. "Didn't even let me in. Apparently purple is a sign of the devil here, and well—it's kind of my color."

She also wears this tight buttoned vest and long pants, both of which are a darker purple.

"…H-How the hell did you do that…?" I mutter.

"What, make us invisible?" She pauses. "I just gave them what they wanted: you, long gone and nowhere to be seen."

"Put less cryptically…"

"Magic," she replies. "I don't suppose you've seen a magician before, have you?"

I'm quiet for a second.

"…They called me a Firebrand," I mutter. "What… is that?"

"Can't say I know. Towns like these all have their own superstitions and unreasonable fears, mostly built upon by the stories told by their parents, and their parents before them. This particular one… I'm not sure."

I look down to Lyra. She's still unconscious. But the burn on her neck looks… really bad. I… can't help but wonder if their 'superstitions' about me weren't so far off.

The woman looks down at her, but doesn't say anything at first.

"Are you from around here?" she finally asks after a long silence.

"…The next village over, just that way," I mutter, pointing with a nod.

"And I take it you've never met anyone that looks like you," she says. "But I have. A decent few, at least. If you're worried that the whole world is like that, then you shouldn't be. I've been to many countries in my life, through many provinces. And that kind of superstition is never widespread."

"…Whatever," I mutter.

I slowly start plodding in the direction of my things. There's… really not much else to do.

"Excuse me," comes the woman from behind. "You wouldn't happen to have the tools for healing that girl, would you?"

"No, I don't. Which is why I'm bringing her back to the village," I say, glancing over my shoulder.

"Would you ask for help if you knew I had the tools?"

"…Well, do you?"

"I'll forgive you since you clearly don't know what I'm capable of, but otherwise I may have been insulted."

I pause.

"I… went into town because she collapsed," I say. "And… while the villagers started to freak out, I— err… She got burnt."

"Collapsed, you say…?" she asks. "…Well, let's go elsewhere so I can take a look at her. The bags strewn about in that clearing are yours, correct?"

"Were you following us…?"

"Nothing of the sort, I just happened to glance towards where you came from and went to investigate," she replies. "In any case, that should be a good place to take a look at this girl. Are you fine with carrying her there?"

"…Sure. Whatever," I mutter.

Onward I carry myself, plodding alongside this woman I've never met in my life. Too much is happening. And once again, I'm beginning to feel the same hopelessness from before creep back in. I don't know what that was, how my skin grew so hot that it burned Lyra. But even if I wanted to find the answer… I don't know where to start. Who am I? What the hell is a Firebrand? Why did the townspeople all just try to kill me? These thoughts are carried with me into the clouds of nonsense that lay before me.