Chapter 20: Fire in the Slums, Smoke in the Sky
The air was thick with smoke before Axel even knew what was happening.
It was a quiet night in the shop, the usual hum of the fire and the distant sounds of the slums filtering in through the cracked windows. The children had already come and gone, their laughter lingering in the corners like some strange magic. Veya was sitting in her usual spot, by the hearth, her amber eyes fixed on the flickering flames. The fox, as usual, was by her side, its tail swishing lazily.
Axel had just finished cleaning the counter and was about to start prepping for the next day when the first crack of fire broke through the night's calm. It was a sharp sound—like the earth itself had split in two.
A scream followed. Then another.
Axel's heart seized, his instincts kicking into overdrive. He ran to the door, flinging it open, and froze at the sight in front of him.
Flames.
A massive, crackling blaze had already begun to spread down the alley. The fire roared in the night, licking at the rotting wood of the neighboring buildings. The heat rolled toward him in waves, and for a moment, he couldn't process what was happening. His first thought was that the fire had somehow started on its own, that it was some cruel coincidence of fate. But then the truth hit him.
The gang.
The fire was no accident. It was retaliation.
Axel didn't think. He acted.
"Veya!" he shouted, turning to see her already standing, the fox's fur bristling beside her. Her eyes met his, unreadable, but her movements were precise as she grabbed a heavy sack of spices from the counter.
The fire was only getting worse, threatening to consume everything in its path. Axel's hands tightened on the doorframe. He knew this wasn't something that would just burn out. This wasn't just a message. This was an attack. A destruction of everything he had worked for. The fire was going to consume the whole damn alley, and with it, the shop—the one place of peace in this forsaken corner of the world.
Axel's mind raced. He grabbed the first thing that came to hand—a large iron pot, half-filled with the broth he had been simmering for the children. It wasn't much, but it was something. He ran to the window and threw it open, tossing the hot, steaming liquid toward the fire. The broth splashed against the flames, sending up a brief hiss of steam. It wasn't enough to stop the blaze, but it slowed its advance, pushing the fire back just a few feet.
Veya moved swiftly, as she always did, her hands working with a focus that Axel had come to respect. She wasn't just reacting to the danger; she was taking control of it. She opened the sack of spices with a swift motion, her fingers quick as she sprinkled a mix of wild herbs and pungent powders into the air. The wind whipped around her as she worked, the scents filling the air with an almost intoxicating intensity. The spices were potent—sharp, biting. They swirled in the firelight like something alive, their smoke adding to the thick fog of the night.
Then she did something Axel had never seen before.
The fox, her strange companion, stepped forward. Its eyes gleamed in the firelight, and for a moment, Axel could have sworn the creature's form shimmered—just for a second. The fox's tail flicked, and with a single, swift motion, it leaped into the blaze.
"Wait!" Axel shouted, but Veya didn't flinch. She was focused, her gaze fixed on the fire as though it were a living thing. The fox darted through the flames like a streak of light, its fur igniting with a heat that seemed almost unnatural. The creature's form became a blur of orange and red, as if it were made of fire itself.
The flames in the alley roared louder, as if recognizing the fox as a challenge. The heat intensified, licking at the edges of the roof, and the flames seemed to snap and twist with new ferocity. Axel's heart pounded in his chest, watching in disbelief. The fox wasn't just running through the fire—it was controlling it. With each step, the fire swirled, bending around the creature's movements, as though it were bending to its will.
Veya's eyes locked onto the fox, and she raised her hands. The air around them shimmered, and for a brief moment, Axel saw the faint outline of something—something more—hovering just above her fingertips. The fire that had been rampaging down the alley began to slow. It wavered. The fox's form shimmered again, a streak of flame that sent the fire scattering, pushing it back like a wave of heat being repelled by the force of the creature.
Axel stood frozen, his mind struggling to comprehend what he was seeing. Veya and the fox weren't just fighting the fire. They were shaping it, controlling it—turning it into an extension of their will.
But the danger was far from over.
Axel grabbed a bundle of dried herbs from the shelf, quickly tossing them into the fire. As the herbs hit the flames, they exploded in a burst of thick smoke that swirled and expanded, blocking out the fire's light. The smoke became a barrier, a cloud that moved against the flames like an army on the march. The heat subsided slightly, but the fire was still strong. The gang was still out there, somewhere in the dark, waiting to see the destruction complete.
The fox leaped from the blaze, its fiery body sizzling and crackling. It darted toward Axel, its eyes glowing fiercely, and for a moment, he thought it was coming for him. But it passed by him, its tail brushing against his arm as it ran back toward Veya.
The gang hadn't given up yet.
Axel heard footsteps approaching, heavy boots crunching against the gravel of the alley. He turned, just in time to see a group of gang members emerging from the smoke. They were carrying torches, their eyes wild with excitement. They weren't just trying to destroy the shop anymore—they were trying to end them.
"You think you can stop us, cook?" the leader shouted, his voice distorted by the smoke. He raised a torch, swinging it in an arc toward the entrance of the shop.
Axel didn't hesitate. He grabbed another handful of spices from the counter, hurling them at the gang members. The moment the mixture hit the air, there was an immediate reaction. A sharp, acrid scent filled the air, causing the men to cough and stumble backward. Their vision blurred, their eyes watering as the mixture took effect.
The leader, still fighting through the haze, swung his torch wildly, aiming for Axel's head. Axel ducked just in time, grabbing the end of the burning stick and yanking it from the man's hands. With a quick, fluid motion, he snapped the torch in two, tossing the smoldering pieces to the side.
Veya had joined him now, moving through the smoke like a shadow. She didn't speak, but Axel could see the fire in her eyes—the same fire that had danced in the fox's fur. She grabbed another handful of spices, raising her arms as the fire swirled around them. It reacted, like a living thing, pushing back against the gang members.
"Get out of here!" Axel shouted, his voice rough. He wasn't just defending his shop anymore; he was fighting for his life, for Veya's life, and for the peace that had only just begun to settle over the slums.
The gang hesitated, but they weren't backing down. The leader turned, raising his hand as if to signal the retreat—but then he froze. The sound of a shout echoed down the alley, but this wasn't from the gang. Axel's eyes darted to the street where the fire had started. Figures were emerging from the shadows.
Neighbors. The people who had long since stopped caring, the ones who had always stayed silent, content to let the chaos of the slums rage around them—were coming out of their homes. They were armed with whatever they had: buckets, boards, knives, and metal rods. A few carried torches, but they weren't for destruction. They were for protection.
The leader of the gang's eyes widened in disbelief.
"What the hell?" one of his men muttered, his voice thick with panic.
The first neighbor, a woman with a scarred face and calloused hands, threw a bucket of water toward the fire. The liquid splashed against the flames, immediately dousing some of the heat. Others followed her lead, hurling water and dirt, even blankets, to put out the fire before it could spread further.
The gang's resolve cracked. The silence of the slums was being broken, and the residents who had once turned their backs on Axel and Veya were now standing beside them, fighting back.
With a curse, the leader waved his hand, signaling the retreat. The gang members, defeated by the unity of the neighborhood and the power of the fire they couldn't control, fled into the night.
The fire didn't completely go out, but the worst of it had been stopped. The smoke still hung thick in the air, but the shop was saved. Axel stood there, panting, his heart still racing in his chest. Veya was by his side, her hands trembling slightly as she watched the flames die down.
And then, for the first time that night, there was a stillness. The slums, once full of fear and silence, were buzzing with something new.
A new name.
"Flameborne Cook."