Netori: Stealing The Hero's Party!

To think Fortuna would come to aid these people through me. To think I wasn’t abandoned by her favor, to think, this damned coin still carried her silver! Aghh! Why did she lie then? Why...did she tell me that she’d lost hope in me entirely? As I look around at the burning infernos that are the houses of the people of Eclanor, an ember of doubt flares up within my heart. Instilling in me wonder and a question.

"Just messing with me, aren’t you?" I, Garcia Cointoss, was amongst her many followers. Perhaps, she meant more to me than I did to her. And that’s why she only ever answered my call when things slipped out of hand.

Luck, if anything, we’d had that the whole day. After Melenai’s attempts to keep the invaders from storming into the kingdom failed, nothing but luck had saved us. Flitza tried to fight but was quickly overwhelmed by the numbers. Ditsy could’ve fought a little, but I didn’t let her put herself at risk.

In the end, as the giant marched in our direction, it was Meimei out of everyone who managed to buy us some time. A quicksand emerged underneath the enemy, sinking a great deal of them, but not all. The sudden boon, however, was not wrought by chance but by the unchained phoenix’s frenzy as it answered its master’s call.

Erupting through the sand like a volcano, the burning bird, as bright as the sun itself, hurled itself at the half-giant. While it tussled with him, however, Melenai set her gaze on us and ordered with her bardic powers for us to retreat. Flitza tried to fight her control, but her magic overwhelmed us all.

What I heard next were screams and the sound of breaking glass. Throwing their burning glass bottles, their bombs, and shooting arrows with flaming tips, it only took the enemy a few minutes before the kingdom was set aflame. Chaos and screams echoed through the streets of the once quiet city, full of burning men and women running out of their houses screaming.

I saw a few children...and none were in any condition to speak. But that sight broke something inside of me, and instead of running away to safety, I decided to stick around and help as much as I could. It was then that the giant man tore through the kingdom’s walls and marched in with his army. The phoenix had its claws seep within his shoulders, and its wings burned like some trophy atop the man’s body.

Kuruon, the phoenix, continued to fight the raging hulk of a man. Pecking and clawing at him as he tried to topple houses with his weapon and crush the enemy under his feet. The unrelenting spirit of the phoenix, however, poked one of his eyes right out. Burning his face along the way, and the pain made the half giant topple and fall over.

Once downed, the giant groaned in pain while the phoenix stretched its wings and set its burning gaze on the oncoming enemy. The flapping of its wings as it flew to the charging horde, however, only fueled the flames further. Forcing me to look away and help put out the fire and rescue the rest of the civilians from their homes.

By the gods, I had luck today. Every fallen column missed me by an inch, every sudden burst of flames spared me by a hair’s breadth. Even those I saved had incurred little to no injuries. Not once had the coin landed on the skull. Lady Luck’s favor, I wouldn’t let it be in vain. Not now nor ever.

In the many rescues I performed, I ran into a few strangers doing the same. They used magic of unknown composition, leaving a strange taste on my lips whenever I was around. What concerned me about them, however, was that they carried a flicker of Mistress Mesmerazia’s essence. But none of them served her directly, at least that’s what they’d told me.

Following a Priestess called Kara, they were brought here as a favor asked by the goddess of commerce herself. In return, what did they get? I have not the slightest clue, but the rescuers seemed content with their aid, making me wonder if there was even a reward or if they were doing this just to help.

Either way, the screams distracted me easy. Both of the civilians and the enemy. Whatever happened beyond the walls of the kingdom, I do not know, but the phoenix–its flames burned brightly. Melting stone and metal, the creature of the forge must’ve easily disarmed the enemy; however, still I heard those tyrants running amongst us. Slaying the innocent folks of the land, including children and mothers.

Had I been a fighter, perhaps I would’ve charged headfirst to help them. But knowing my limits is amongst Fortuna’s dogma. Do not play a hand knowing you’d lose–at least have a chance at winning before laying down your chips. Despite ’winning’, in a sense, that is to say being alive even as the ashes fell on the tragic events of the day, I do not feel like I’ve won.

Watching Eclanor burning from the windows of the so-called flying vessels, the Tridents, the only thing I felt was loss and helplessness. Perhaps I wore that dejection on my face as well, for the hero, Raven, had placed a hand on my shoulder and told me.

"You cannot save everyone." Though he himself seemed troubled by the events of the day, maybe there was some sense in his advice.

Sitting alone in a corner of a room stuffed full of other people, I pondered that question into the night while the ship rattled from the outside and something gripped us from everywhere. Whatever it was, we’d been told not to freak out over it. Taking the advice to heart, I sat by Mei and Flitza, quietly passing the night. In the darkness of the grip of an unknown creature, the only source of light we had was that of a feather of the now freed phoenix.

Mei stared at the burning feather as it rested in her magic hands. Weeping over the loss of her friend. It hadn’t died from what I’ve been told, but flew away far off somewhere once the enemy was finally in retreat.

Deep in my musing and self-reflection, a small hand gripped by a finger from beside me. Turning to look in that direction, a woman lay sleeping beside me. I recognized her face; she was amongst the many I’d managed to save from the burning buildings. Casting my gaze down at her hands, however, it wasn’t her who was holding my finger, but a small child wrapped in cloth.

’I suppose my efforts weren’t vain after all.’