A Chance For Survival
It had been a hell of a night for everyone in St. Curtis.
Kieri hobbled along, weaving through the alleys. Her body ached, save for the right arm she knew was lost. She couldn't heal it without magic, she couldn't use magic unless she was free, and she couldn't get free unless someone knew her name.
She was, as Medians put it, "screwed" when a Demon found her...not that she wasn't "screwed" anyway after jumping out of the wagon in rabbit form. The fall and roll could have killed her.
'Perhaps it should have,' she mused darkly as she slumped against a door.
Her silent scream of pain was drowned out by the fire around her.
[PROTOCOL UPDATE=TARGET=VOCALIZE!=TRUE, TARGET=VOCALIZE=TRUE]
[JEWELRY=CURSED, COUNTER TARGET=VOCALIZE]
[DATA IRRELEVANT, START DISREGARD.exe]
And Kieri jerked awake with a gasp. She was lying, unstrapped, on a traction bench, as if she'd been under medical supervision. She suddenly realized she'd gasped, and gently touched her throat, reaching with even her numb arm –
...why was her right arm prosthetic? It looked like something from a medical golem – a device designed from iron enchanted to act as a doctor or nurse. Yet, there were also three thick glass orbs installed in the forearm.
That was when the Water Demon burst in – the same one she'd stabbed all the way through the stomach – and tried to close the door behind him. Her rage kindled hotter than all of St. Curtis's flames combined, and she lunged for him, grasping him with the mechanical hand by the throat, and squeezed, preparing to punch him.
Before she knew it, one of the orbs had lit up with electricity, and the Water Demon was fried as his throat was crushed.
The girl flinched, staring at the charred mess of a corpse. Horror filled her...but also a sense of triumph. She finally had the strength she needed to defend herself.
To defend her friends.
She burst out the door and ran. She wasn't sure where to go, but she had to do something now that she could.