Liron blinked, questioning whether coming here was a mistake after all. "You were looking… for something like this?"
"The time for explanation comes later," Angin said.
The Alchemist dashed across the pub, climbing the stairs to the few guest rooms. He waved for Liron to follow. Hearing the calls getting louder, Liron did, grinding his teeth. Angin's room was an utter catastrophe. He had emptied his bags all over the room, the ground covered in papers. They had no importance, though, Angin stomping over them, gathering the strange tools spread over his bed in his backpack. Liron recognized some flasks Angin had thrown during the hunt. And his gloves, of course.
He put them on, fingering something at them, the gloves lighting up for a moment. "Perfect," he said, putting on his long robe and backpack. "Here, that will keep you warm," Angin threw a scarf at Liron, the fabric landing on his head. It had tiny metal plates woven into it, too small to notice when touching the scarf.
The Alchemist checked himself in the mirror, dissatisfied with what he saw, and grabbed a staff leaning against the wall. It appeared like a former branch of a tree hit by lightning, blowing through the head. But the design had its purpose, Angin sockling in an orb into the head, runes covering the staff glowing for a brief moment.
"So, are you ready?" Angin asked.
"I… I guess," Liron said.
"Perfect."
Angin leaned against the wall, looking out of the window. He searched for Lance, but the Draconist was nowhere near. Angin opened the window, leaning out of it, swinging himself out of it. Something crushed, and Liron looked out of the window. The Alchemist had landed on a wooden box and had smashed through the lid. Pulling his feet free, he gave Liron a thumbs-up, pushing the box underneath the window.
"Fuck," Liron said to himself.
Wrapping the axe in the scarf and attaching them to his backpack, he jumped out of the window, holding on to the slats. His feet nearly touched the box already, letting himself drop onto it, not bursting through it.
"That was clever," Angin said. "I should have done that, too."
Illaxia roared, Angin grimacing at the sky. The dragon combed through the other side of the town, but it would be only moments before she would look their way. Angin ran towards the stable. No one in Eisenrahm had horses, but occasionally a rider stayed overnight. The Alchemist had no horse in there, though.
Liron had seen greater machines a few times. Lunar panels were a lesser version of them. Rumors told that the lucky few had advanced machinery to replace their horses. But he had thought them to appear more sophisticated. The monstrosity filled up the entire stable, making Angin look rather small. It had one massive wheel at the front and at the back, having the size to crush a man underneath them.
Liron couldn't place the material out of which they were crafted, black as their hair. Hard yet soft, strange patterns carved into them. The machine had a seat big enough for two people and handles near the front, with two mirrors attached next to them. The metal part connecting the two wheels shared its appearance with his gloves, green and covered in runes.
Angin sat on the machine, examining it. He grinned like a madman, putting on goggles. He threw another one to Liron. "Put them on. The wind will sting in the eyes."
Liron drew the holy cup with his finger, but Harras would be the last one to protect him in this situation. The glass of the goggles made the edge of his vision blurry. He sat down on the machine, his nerves beginning to escape his grasp.
Angin pushed a metal support that had kept the machine upright upwards. One foot rested on the pedal on either side designed for this. With the other he kept from falling over, planted on the ground
"So, listen," Angin said. "You hold on to me as hard as you can. Press your legs against the bike. You keep your arms away from my neck. Understood?"
"Y… yeah," Liron said, pressing himself into Angin's back.
Angin pushed them forward, using his legs. As they left the stable, Angin stopped, rummaging through his backpack, which he had strapped to his chest. He pulled out something eerily similar to the flask. Liron knew this one to be a bomb.
"Wh…"
Liron couldn't finish his question, as Angin pulled something out of the bomb, hurling it through the window they had escaped out of. Seconds later, the entire room blew apart, everything he had left behind blasted into bits. With that, Angin pulled at the handle, the machine awakening to life. Liron hissed as everything underneath him vibrated, howling with the strength of cold steel. The wheels turned faster than Liron could have imagined, and they went off.
Liron screamed, clinging to Angin like a child to his father. The machine burst forward, outpacing the best horses Liron had ever seen. Should he fall off it, his body would shatter on impact. Angin howled, his hair whirling in the wind. His laughter would be infectious if Illaxia hadn't spotted them.
The explosion had attracted them, the dragon announcing their pursuit. What worked wonders on Liron left Angin cold. "Fucking try, you Empire bootlicker!" he called, showing them his index and middle finger. Liron had never seen this gesture, but he knew it to have a crude meaning.
Despite the machine's speed, they hadn't reached the edge of Lichtwald yet. Angin readjusted the mirror at his handle, showing him the dragon. Just in time, as Illaxia spat out her first fireball. Gold flames cut through the air, faster than dragon and machine. Angin waited until the last moment, taking a harsh curve to avoid the fireball. The explosion melted through the ground, leaving nothing behind but scorched earth.
Illaxia was a massive dragon, far slower than her kin. She would have no chance to catch up to them, so she rained down inferno on them. Hell raged inside her stomach as she unleashed dozens of projectiles. Liron glimpsed behind them, squeaking at seeing what came their way, pressing his head into Angin's back again.
The Alchemist cracked his neck with a short twist of his head. With a surprising grace, the machine danced between the flames erupting around them. One mistake would mean a horrifying death, but Angin kept his cool. He dodged with as little motion as possible, finding the narrow pathway through the assault.
But their pursuer proved themselves equally as competent. The onslaught hadn't been random. They had wanted Angin to take a certain passage, making it predictable where he would move. Another fireball smashed in front of them, no more than thirty feet away. There would be no way to avoid it, flames all around them.
"Hold on tight," Angin said. He jumped on his seat, kneeling as low as he could. Liron screamed, knowing they would crash into the fire. Before this could happen, Angin pressed something at his handle, the front wheel stopping dead in its tracks. The machine's momentum catapulted Angin and Liron into the air, sending them over the fire. The heat bit into Liron, but they failed in claiming him.
Liron and Angin smashed into the snow, rolling to feather the impact. Without the cushion, he would have more than a bruised shoulder. As he wanted to rise, dragging his head out of the snow, Angin shoved him down again. The burning remnants of the machine flew over them, the crash and flames having ripped the thing into countless pieces. Snow hurled high into the air, the smoking wreckage tore through the ground, and frozen dirt showered them.
Liron had his hands on the back of his head, trembling as he waited for any metal shard to end his escape sooner rather than later. Angin shook him. "Come on, we aren't safe yet."
Lance and Illaxia descended, cutting through the air. The white stripe of the dragon shone bright, preparing a cascade of burning wrath. At this distance, she would not need her fireballs anymore. She could spew a surge of blaze, burying them in it, leaving nothing but their skeletons behind. And that was if they were lucky.
Angin licked his lips, his eyes wide. Not with fear, though, a wicked smile lighting up his features.
"Fucking run!" the Alchemist called, breaking out into a sprint.
Liron didn't need to hear that twice. Lichtwald was a stone's throw away, but the Knight Dracon and his trusted ally were closer. Lance cried something, probably declaring the Empire's judgment. As the wind of Illaxias's wings reached them, Angin swung around his staff, the runes bright.
The orb emitted strange vibrations, gaining in strength. Angin unleashed whatever had built up in his staff on a downward flourish. Similar to his gloves, a shock wave erupted from it. It lacked the impact of them, though, possessing a greater sense of subtlety and control . Where the gloves served as a sledgehammer, the orb functioned as a spear.
White clouds shot up. Unlike the crash, they were thicker, appearing like the snow had melted into real mist. Angin moved around like a dancer, his staff an extension of him. He grew the cloud larger, hiding them. It had gained a size that Lance couldn't melt through with the certainty he would hit them.
Experienced in battle, the Draconist steered his dragon higher, ceasing its flames. Illaxia focused on her wings, swinging them harder, causing a contained storm. The wind whipped through the clouds, blasting them away. All of Angin's efforts gone. Liron and the Alchemist had to plant their feet into the ground, struggling not to lose their balance.
Robbed of their camouflage and their momentum, Illaxia gathered the blaze inside her chest. She had to build up for another wave of fire, shooting a fireball instead. Liron stared at the inferno coming their way, whispering his last goodbyes to his family. He wondered how much harder their life would become from now on. He had hoped that should he die, their load would become lighter. But now, they would have to endure an existence in isolation, shunned by the whole community. And that was the best case.
But as Lance and Illaxia had utilized deception, Angin had planned ahead, too. He tugged Liron close, holding him as he pointed the staff at the fireball. His activation of the staff hadn't had just the purpose of creating the clouds. He wanted to build enough energy in the orb, trembling with built up force.
Angin released it all, the vibration colliding with the fireball, triggering its explosion too early. The flames should have devoured him, but the force was potent enough to keep them at bay. But not strong enough to nullify the shockwave. As with the machine, Angin and Liron hurled through the air, plunging past trees, slamming through several bushes before they came to a stop.
Liron groaned, thorny branches hanging in his hair. Angin cast aside the scorched fragments of the staff, not having survived the clash. Whatever bomb he had stored in his bag, he threw it in the direction of Lance and his dragon, using only one arm. He didn't aim for them, their figures only barely visible through the trees.
A chain of explosions blinded the dragon, howling as the force ripped through dozens of woods. Liron watched in horror as mayhem ensued, trees older than his parents collapsing. Some reached Illaxia, slamming into her. They would not do much damage, but they threaten to bury her underneath them, forcing her to fly away.
Angin kicked Liron. "The fuck are you doing?! Run!"
Liron fell over himself, his legs shaky from being separated from the ground twice now. He stumbled, but he succeeded in following Angin. Both were covered in dirt, snow, and twigs. Their clothes and backpacks were torn, but they had survived the entire ordeal. Danger still bit at their heels, but Liron couldn't suppress a laugh. They had survived a dragon attack! A weakened one, though. In her normal state, Illaxia would have killed them, but Liron had to take his hope where he could get it.
"That was incredible!" Liron said. "I can't believe it! You made the Promised Dawn look like a fool."
Angin took the praise in like a good wine. "Well, what can I say? I have my good days. This should be far enough."
They had ran for five minutes, Eisenrahm not visible anymore. The Alchemist stopped, putting down his backpack. "For what?" Liron asked, frowning.
"Well," Angin said, "to deal with this."
He held up his right arm, broken at the elbow, hanging lifelessly. Three bone shards poked out.
"Oh," Liron said. "Fuck."