Seeking Refuge
You try to remember the fear from that other night in a dark alley. It flares up more easily than you'd have liked. As you reach out and watch, theres a glow of red-gold fire spinning into existence around your fingers. People start to turn and gasp, but you hardly notice, focusing on pulling more fire from wherever it comes from. Your finger-pads feel seared without actually hurting. Quickly you tighten your grip on the flame and point at the goons. "Let him go, NOW!" A jet of orange fire lashes out and you bend it, somehow, trying not to kill anyone.
The foxes all stare at you, thugs and bystanders alike. And then everybody runs away, scattering in all directions. Except for one kid whose huge eyes are locked on the swirling fireball you're trying to put out. "Whoa..." And except for Eloy.
The fire sputters and goes out as you waggle your hand, leaving your fingers tingling. Hurrying over to Eloy, you kneel on the wet grass and try to pry his arms off his face. "Eloy, it's me... Lenara. Talk to me."
He moans. His eyes are bloodshot and his yellow-grey fur's streaked with grass, mud, and blood like some maniac's attacked him with a box of crayons. "Senorita Vale, I did not know you were an action hero."
With a weak smile you look over his wounds and brush fingers over filthy headfur. Looks like the sleeve of your blouse is ruined too. You manage to tear off the damaged cloth and wrap that around a deep gash on his arm. Eloy hisses.
That kid's still standing there watching. "What are you doing?" you say. "Get the police or an ambulance or whatever they have here!"
"I'm here," says another man running onto the scene. He's got a crossbow-pistol thing and a radio on his uniform.
"Officer Ren!" you say. "A mob attacked this man."
Ren says, "I saw some of them fleeing. And they were saying, 'magic'." He crouches by Eloy, his face a professional grimace as he looks the wounds over. "Hang in there, mister." He gets on the radio and calls for medics.
Eloy says, "That was a display impressive, senorita." You hold his hand to comfort him. "Now you must run."
Ren says, "I warned you about that talent of yours, ma'am. I can't advise you to flee from the mage corps officials who'll be along to investigate within a few days, but if you have the means to take an unannounced vacation, this might be a good time."
Your heart's already pounding from the magic. "To not get drafted?" you say. Ren nods. "How aggressive are they?"
Eloy coughs. "You could maybe delay a few weeks, if you knew some Fen influential. I know such a man, but he is rather bruised right now."
"Just a few minutes for the medics," Ren assures him.
You wait, looking back and forth between the policeman and your battered Fen admirer. Eloy holds your hand tightly until the medics get to him with a stretcher and unfamiliar medical gear. Ren says, "Stop by the station and we'll protect you from the mage draft as well as we can. Or skip town. Either way, good luck. You're a hero to us."
A hero? You step back, one hand over your muzzle. You didn't do anything special besides use the powers handed to you. And now you might end up as the Fens' wizard-slave for doing it. You run off, crying and hoping no one sees you.
Bragho spots you as you enter the movie studio. "What happened? Are you hurt?"
"No, no, it's --" You pour out an explanation.
Bragho's eyes widen. "Oh, hell, you have magic besides the costume thing? You're in danger." His ears flick back and he turns to spot Wylan and the other actors. They're running up to see you, the panting vixen with torn, charred clothes.
Wylan says, "Lenara, what's wrong now?"
Bragho tells him, "Never you mind!" He frowns and shakes his head. "Sorry. She's just been spotted using... magic." There's a collective gasp. Under his breath he mutters, "Easily impressed low-mana world."
You face the people you've been working with. "Thanks, everyone. You've been good to me. I just don't know what to do now."
Wylan says, "I take it you don't want to go work for the Fen government?"
You shake your head no. "As interesting as it'd be, not if they say I have no choice."
Wylan nods. "Then it's time to lay low, see if we can make this thing blow over. And nobody here's gonna say anything, right?" He gives a frightening stare to each and every one of his co-workers, whose tails tuck between their legs.
Except Bragho, whose fists tremble at his sides. "There's another option. It means she hides for another week plus, which I think we can manage, and then... a way out opens from then on."
"What?" you ask.
"Costumes," Bragho says, ears laid flat on his head. "I have three I never used, and there's the one you bought." Some of the other actors look confused; do they not know what he's talking about?
You realize the full meaning of his idea. "You mean, wait for the game's minimum time and escape with another outfit? Just to avoid this draft? Bragho, couldn't we, I don't know, fight this in court? It's a stupid reason to decide to leave."
"The Fens are in charge, Len," says Wylan.
"Well, someone should stand up to them!"
Wylan droops guiltily, then forces himself to stand up straighter. "If that's what you want to do, I'm with you."
You turn to Bragho. "And what about you? You're saying I should throw away this world, now?"
The fox-man is shaking. "No! I mean, you wanted to be a world-hopping adventurer, right? I want you to be safe and happy, even if..."
Your tail flicks against your legs for several seconds, like a metronome. Then Bragho darts forward and wraps arms around you, planting a long kiss right on your muzzle. He's warm and strong and the moment makes you happy and terrified.
Bragho lets you go and steps back, swiping the back of his hand over his eyes. "Go. See a hundred other worlds and do good in them."
You stand there flustered, battered, with danger and friends ahead in this world and many unknown wonders awaiting in the costume-verse.
It's up to you, then. What's the true ending to this story of yours?
Written by Snow on 17 July 2010
