Blaze! Marinette's Flames in My Palm

Blaze! Marinette's flames blazed fiercely above my palm. For some reason, the fire's shape was beautiful. I could control the temperature of the flames summoned by Marinette's power. I could create a paradoxical spark that froze everything it touched, or conversely, hellfire that incinerated all in its path. But too cold wouldn't soothe the hearts of the Voodooists unjustly slain on that starless night, and too hot would kill them before they even felt the pain. I adjusted the flames to a moderately hot level. Roughly the temperature of boiling water. It was just right for inflicting pain and instilling terror.

"...You got that trick too? Should've joined a circus instead of Florence. Then you wouldn't have met me."

Ma Yu-hyeon mocked me in a voice dripping with leisure. But I knew he was just feigning calm, trembling in actual fear. He couldn't hide the terror seeping through the quiver in his voice. He was just an ordinary person, shrinking before pain like anyone else.

"No... I'm actually glad I met you."

Saying that, I brought the fire to his bound hands. The tips of Ma Yu-hyeon's fingers twitched instinctively, fleeing the flame. I chased them, pressing the fire to his hand again. He writhed desperately to escape, and I pursued.

"Don't freak out. I'm not gonna kill you...."

My heart pounded. Was it from the sight of the fire, or the memories of that starless night? I laughed. It felt good, exhilarating. Was it because Ma Yu-hyeon cowering in fear was ridiculous? Because I'd switched from being chased to the chaser, even briefly? I didn't know. Ah, if I just burned this bastard to death right now, maybe this knotted feeling in my chest, the one without a clear cause, would finally...

Knock knock.

The knock stopped my impulse dead. I tucked away Marinette's flames for a moment and looked toward the door where the sound came from. No matter how I thought about it, now wasn't the time for knocks. Had my uncle, who hadn't shown up at the Worship Hall in ages, finally returned today? Or was it Kang Ji-a? No, not Kang Ji-a. I'd told her to stay in the room and absolutely not come out.

Knock knock.

"..."

Another knock came while I hesitated. I glanced at Ma Yu-hyeon. He was panting, drenched in cold sweat. The guy who wouldn't flinch if ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I stabbed his thigh with a blade was overreacting wildly to just fire. It felt off somehow. Was he afraid of fire? Like me?

Now wasn't the time for that. I crept silently toward the door. It could be my uncle or Kang Ji-a, but it might be an intruder too. For someone like Ma Yu-hyeon, having a tail or bodyguards follow him wouldn't be strange at all. Then what about Ji-a upstairs?

"..."

No, don't think about Ji-a. I'd told her to stay in the room and make no sound, so if luck was on her side, she'd be fine. Even if not... there was nothing I could do.

Click.

I gripped the Dawn Sword in my right hand and turned the doorknob with my left. Still, no reaction from the other side. Had they sensed my caution? Even though I'd deliberately opened the door, they weren't rushing in.

Fine, I'd go out first. This was my Worship Hall. No matter who it was or how skilled, with free use of spells and Loa powers, subduing them was just a matter of time.

Creeeak...

I slowly pulled the knob. The door began to open with an eerie groan. Still no reaction from the other side.

Bang!

I yanked it hard. Something shattered—the doorknob, probably. No time to care. I slammed my elbow into the figure beyond, pinning them against the wall, and pressed the Dawn Sword to their throat.

They were subdued far too easily. Like handling a child. The cold, sinister glow from the Dawn Sword illuminated their face amid the thick darkness and fog.

"It's me, Kang Ji-a, Leader."

She said. I immediately lowered the blade and touched the spot on her neck where it had grazed. Blood smeared my fingers. I'd meant only to threaten, but it had nicked her slightly.

"...I told you not to come out of the room."

"Yes, you did, but..."

"Then why'd you come out?"

I was annoyed. Honestly, "annoyed" didn't cover it. It was complicated. Anger? Sadness? My breath felt shallow. It was so suffocating I wanted to spit out anything, but words wouldn't come.

Kang Ji-a's lips trembled as if she had something to say, then she bowed her head.

"I'm sorry..."

"Wait here."

I cast a Restoration Spell to heal the wound on her neck. It was shallow, so it closed quickly. No scar. But my mind wasn't at ease. Was it because she'd gotten hurt on my account? Or because she'd ignored my order and come out? I didn't know. My body felt heavy, like sinking endlessly into an infinite sea. Angry and sad, but terrified because I couldn't pinpoint why. If I let my thoughts spiral in silence, I'd go mad right then.

"So why'd you come out?"

I blurted out anything. I desperately needed someone else's voice. She hesitated wordlessly before handing me what she held.

"I found this in your room, Leader."

It was a notebook. The one where, during the suspension, while practicing spells and Loa powers in the Worship Hall, I'd jotted down fragments of memories that surfaced now and then.

"For this—"

I almost said, "you ignored me and crawled out?" But flipping it open and seeing the contents choked my words.

Reading it was hard. Words scattered wildly. Letters varied in size, sentences incoherent. They didn't seem meant to convey meaning. Crimson ink like blood filled the pages, eerie.

"...Leader?"

Kang Ji-a called. I snapped it shut without answering. Cold sweat dripped. Terrifying. The handwriting was mine. I'd never written such bizarre things, nor remembered doing so. That's what scared me most. I wiped the sweat and looked up. Kang Ji-a stared with worried eyes.

"Are you oka—"

"I'm fine."

I cut her off before she finished. I said I was fine, but I didn't feel it. I was wearing down day by day. My sense of touch dulled. Soon I wouldn't distinguish hot from cold. Taste had been gone a while. I barely remembered the flavor of Ji-a's cooking. Losing touch and taste blurred my days. Life dragged boring and hazy. I didn't feel alive. No different from being dead. Maybe dying would be fine.

"I'm fine, so go back up, sis."

I'd thought I was going mad, but apparently I already was. On my way back underground after sending Kang Ji-a off, I burned the notebook with Marinette's flames.

*

I leaned against the wall, staring blankly at the fog dispersing and gathering. I took a deep breath. Fog filled my body. Refreshing? Clearing? Or nothing at all? I couldn't tell how time passed.

"Hey."

Then Ma Yu-hyeon's voice came. He squirmed, turning his head my way. His face was indistinct in the fog. Normally, I wouldn't have time for this. I'd torture him or use spells to extract something—how much he knew about me, if others suspected I was the Leader, info for evasion and hiding if papal forces chased me.

"Hey, you dead?"

"..."

He jabbered, but I didn't reply. I stared at his foggy silhouette. I could pry info from him easily, but had no will to. How my identity got exposed, when I'd gone mad. Thinking where it went wrong led nowhere. Self-recrimination and regret left me listlessly sinking.

I pondered why I'd wanted to become a high cleric. Why strive for it? Teachers' favor, good reputation, wearing masks, losing myself to enter Florence—what for...?

"...Underground prison."

It hit me. I raised the Dawn Sword I'd gripped. Infused its blade with Marinette's flames. Ma Yu-hyeon's eyes, calm with just the sword, filled with terror. The flames mingled with Voodoo magic, glowing violet. Come to think of it, this way I wouldn't need to torture then use Restoration Spells for hemostasis. Fire would cauterize itself. Why hadn't I thought of that? Brilliant.

As I silently thrust the Dawn Sword at him, Ma Yu-hyeon thrashed.

"Hey, you fuck! If you're gonna torture, ask questions first!"

"Oh, right."

"Ha, haa...! You're insane. Thought you were reasonable, but just a torture-crazed bas—"

Crack.

His words cut off. His toes twisted grotesquely—I'd snapped them. Ma Yu-hyeon's face flushed red, body shuddering, then he screamed belatedly from the pain. It turned to whimpering sobs.

"If you spout nonsense or dodge my questions, I'll snap your toes one by one... Or stab your soles with the blade."

"A, aaaah...! Already broken, you crazy fucking psycho...!"

"Don't whine. It'll heal soon."

I drew a spell circle. High-grade Restoration Spell. The fog touched his crushed toes. They writhed like living things, returning to normal as if nothing happened. Still, he trembled in pain.

"Must still hurt though."

Restoration only restores; it doesn't erase pain. I pressed the blade to his foot. Wilder thrashing now. Actions instilled fear better than words. I continued.

"Tell me about the Papal Office underground prison. Location, features... Everything you know."

Ma Yu-hyeon didn't answer easily. He knew something but hesitated. I moved to stab without pause.

"W-wait! ...Let's negotiate."

"Negotiate?"

I sneered and continued. "Not equals here. You think this is still your exam hall? I'll snap a toe first anyway. For that bullshit."

"W-wait! Hear me out first! You can do it after, yeah? After listening!"

He bellowed. Curious what he'd say, I held off. He caught his breath.

"...First off, killing me hurts you too. Obviously me, but you."

"Why think that?"

"My heart's weak, got a device implanted. If it stops, papal forces know my location."

"..."

"Kill me here, they find this place."

No lie in his expression or tone. If true, I couldn't kill him here. Even if my identity leaked and I became a fugitive, exposing the Worship Hall was worse.

Of course, that didn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mean I couldn't kill him elsewhere. I smirked.

"Fine. Kill you somewhere else then."

"Still makes you a fugitive."

He stayed composed. "They'll scour nationwide CCTV, dashcams, everything. Might not catch you, but they'll know you killed me soon enough."

"..."

Not wrong. Device or not, he was important in Romanica. His death or disappearance ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would expose me.

"Same if I spare you."

Letting him go here changed nothing. My identity was busted the moment he learned it. Outcome fixed no matter what.

He shook his head frantically. "I won't tell anyone. Swear."

"Think I'll buy that?"

"Info loses value once public."

Cloudy nonsense. Fearing the blade, he huddled and rushed on. "Far as I know, I'm the only one who knows you're the Voodoo Leader. That info's worth most when only I know."

"..."

"So I can't tell. Lowers its rarity and value myself."

His rapid words were hard to parse at once. I mulled them calmly.

"Keeping my Leader status secret to exploit it yourself?"

In essence, plausible sophistry. Rarity boosted value, true. But without utility, even rare info was worthless.

He chuckled softly. "Plenty uses. I'm pegged as next Pope, but more rivals than you think."

"What?"

"Papal Office hides more info than you know. You sensed it vaguely... I can give you that restricted stuff."

Restricted info. Plenty came to mind. Like Gu Jun-hyeok. Papal Office concealed his Satanist infiltration as dishonor, avoiding fallout.

"Don't know everything, but more than 'normies.' Underground prison, Holy War... Romanica's dark side."

"What do you gain telling me?"

"Lots. You won't kill me rashly."

"Extract info, then kill."

"Won't spill everything. That's how I survive."

True. I couldn't kill him till I got what I wanted. That's why I hadn't yet—not couldn't, but wouldn't.

He forced a grin. "So, how's that? Good deal for you too."

"Hm... Not bad. But..."

Decent offer. As next-Pope frontrunner, he'd have superior info. I knew little of Romanica; bargaining could yield useful intel.

"Do I need to negotiate?"

But no reason to bother with the risk. I unleashed Voodoo magic. The massive surge dispersed and coalesced, parting the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fog. It morphed into dozens of spell circles instantly.

The fog from the Fusion Spell Circle was sticky and thick.

"Got a better way."

No need to negotiate; plenty ways to wrench info without.