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Wemmbu should have learned his lesson a while ago when it came to following Flame into stupid situations, because if anything was going for the man, it was his pride and ego. And truthfully, Wemmbu should have a little forethought that taking Flame up on the offer of a “simple training session” would have them back-to-back fighting off random ass players.
And if you’re wondering what the “stupid situation” that Wemmbu just so lovingly followed Flame into was, it was training next to a small, important city. Granted, the spot they chose was technically for training, just not for the two strongest rivals' training. Thus, a fight broke out between the guards of said city. Which then led to an outright battle between them and about 100 or so players that were lowkey decked out in armor and resources. Which on any other day would have been an extremely easy fight to win, especially, begrudgingly, with Flame by his side.
However, as you may have guessed, they were using up their resources on each other, because what’s a good training session without your life on the line?
So here he was, low on pretty much everything, back to back with his rival, as another guard took aim and swung at him. He parried the blow with his sword, taking a deep lung forward to get some ground. The guard backed away, narrowly avoiding the blow, but he wasn’t fast enough, as there was a slight graze from Wemmbu’s sword to his diamond chestplate.
Wemmbu took the distance as an opportunity and planted his feet into the blown-up training grounds. Carefully, so as not to trip on the rumble and tumble forward into one of the craters. As another explosion from Flame’s cart pvp went off in the distance.
Wemmbu stepped to the side to dodge another player’s attack, before turning and throwing a wind-charge at his feet. It launched him into the air as he switched to his mace and slammed back down onto the guy who had attacked him. It managed to pop the player’s totem as well as gain him momentum to fly back up, where he used the space to spread his wings to glide down a little way from Flame. Coming down in another swift impact, catching, and killing another player.
It was easier to fight alongside Flame with a little distance. Each of them taking players down on their own, then coming together in the end, to take out the remaining, stronger players.
He took the moment of space to gain more distance, running towards the city farther away from the fight in hopes of getting a restock from his ender chest. But as his luck would have it, he was being trailed by some of the ones not distracted by Flame. Forcing him to re-engage in the fight.
They managed to gain on him as he stumbled through the city gates, only to come face to face with more guards. Swords from all angles slashed at him, making him stagger back, using his shield in hopes of buying some time. He regained his footing and fought back with his sword, quickly taking out a few more guards before using the freed-up area they were just in to fly up.
Scouting the city in the short span he had in the air, to only be met with more guards flanking them from all directions. Which, normally, wouldn’t be a problem, but once again, he had nowhere to restock after his spar with Flame, and he was out of innovatory rockets and getting low on wind charges.
His wings flapped, letting him hover over the city guard enough to see that now even Flame, who was a bit more equipped than he was, was starting to fall back. Wemmbu took the opportunity to dive down onto another guard with his mace, using that impact to ricochet up to take out another two.
“There’s more coming from the city,” Wemmbu said, spearing one guy with his sword who had taken a lung towards Flame, as yet another came from behind and landed a lucky slice to his own shoulder. The cut wasn’t deep, but enough to draw blood and a hiss from him.
“Shit, okay, I need to restock,” Flame spun and placed a cart at a group of around five men, taking out all but one who had a totem equipped. Who Wemmbu quickly shot up and maced.
“I looked in past the gates,” an arrow shot past Wemmbu’s face, grey particle effects oozing off the arrow that struck the ground. Great, weakness. “Nothing but more guards”
Now that ranged weapons were in play, that meant that weakness probably wasn’t the only arrow they had on hand. Which meant the sky wasn’t as safe as before. However, now with both of them surviving off of depleting inventories, and countless more guards charging from all angles, they were kind ofc at a loss for what to do.
Within his stupor, Wemmbu failed to calculate an incoming attack, leaving his right wing open. An axe fell heavily with a sharp blow from a guard behind him. A pained grunt flew from his lips as he whipped around, sword cutting through the air, breaching the man’s neck. The guy toppled to the ground, and Wemmbu surged forward, swinging at more guards.
He managed a glance at Flame, who, from what he could tell, wasn’t faring much better. He had a cut on his cheek and another deeper one on his side. Nothing life-threatening, but if they don’t get to somewhere they can restock soon, or at least chug a few golden apples, the injuries are just going to multiply.
So, ignoring the searing pain in his wing, he wind charges up. Frantically looking around, he spots that east of where they’re currently is a decently sized structure that could gain them enough time to get some resources to finish the fight.
As the plan develops in his head, two arrows spring from the ground. It happens fast and uncalculated, catching Wemmbu off guard enough to genuinely shock him. One arrow struck his left wing, leaving a bleeding cut, and the other lodged itself deep into his left shoulder, knocking him from the sky. However, what would have been a fast descent that he could twist into a killing blow with a mace became a slow glide to the ground.
Great.
Another arrow slices across his thigh just before he lands a blow to another guard, when he gets close enough to the ground. He switches back to his sword, cutting a path of bodies to get to Flame, who is struggling even more with another deep cut to his forearm and an inability to heal.
There was much less guards now, but not enough went down to render them safe enough to get a risky restock in. Especially now with both of them having screaming injuries that need to be healed.
“Head east,” Wemmbu calls out amongst the sounds of metal on metal clashing. “There should be a building.”
“Bro, your plan is to cage us in a building with them?” Flame takes down another player with his sword. Sweat gleaming off of him as the adrenaline of battle has fully sunk in, leaving it up to his mind and body to do the work.
“It’ll gain us enough time to at least hit a quick restock.” Flame kept quiet after that, just angling his body towards the direction and banking east. Cutting down the players in between.
And even though it was risky, Wemmbu flew up again to gain distance. The arrow in his shoulder burned around the edges. He huffed out of pain and gripped the base of the arrow before pulling it out completely. There wasn’t much he could do in the air until the particle effects wore off, so he focused on getting to the building while gripping his openly bleeding shoulder.
He managed to breach the clearing where the building was before Flame, his foot sliding on the wet forest floor, causing him to stumble a bit, but he managed a quick recovery. Taking out the cluster of golden apples in the back of his inventory and inhaled a few of them. He felt the more shallow injuries begin to close, and even with the larger ones, the bleeding had stopped. The threat of bleeding out on the battle field no longer the main priority.
He took the time he was alone for a second, to be able to catch the way his heart pounded that familiar intense rhythm; however, the break didn’t last but a mere second as a couple of the faster guards and Flame came tumbling in.
Now with a new reborn vigor from the way he felt his wounds close just a fraction. He jumped right back into action, helping Flame get rid of the couple of guards that were on his heels before both of them broke for the building.
The structure itself was mostly made out of stone and old, rotting wood. It was big, about three stories, and quite spacious inside. It smelled like expired fruit and old pine. And along the wall, some stairs lead to the second floor that looked to be caving in on itself. And on the opposite side of the stairs was a small trap door opening, probably leading down to a cellar.
Wemmbu and Flame, however, wasted no time in taking out an ender chest and gathering as many supplies as possible before more players crashed into the building. They came from every opening available. Flooding the front and back doors and breaking through the first-floor windows with the sound of shattering glass following them.
Fighting in the building turned out to be a little easier than out in the open, with the way they were able to pick off the remaining players as they entered. Wemmbu towards the back and Flame standing at the front, cocky bastard. Having limited ways of entering gave the two of them a slight advantage over their opponents.
But the sanctuary didn’t last long as more of the remaining players broke down the door, and the surrounding bundles of the stone entrance, to barrage in. Now, once again over taken by players, this time fully restocked, Wemmbu and Flame were able to fight more clearly. Injuries put on the way side as the battle raged on.
And it would’ve been an easy win, truly.
But when had that ever happened for them? No, really. Name one time.
Flame took out the first cart, firing at the feet of a group of guards. Their bodies fall, and their weapons scatter. It was then, while parrying another player’s sword with a mace attack, that he saw the building shake. The roof of the structure started stuttering out dust particles over their heads, and the walls wiggled from the impact. And then the floor gave, not much, but enough for Wemmbu to notice it.
Flame lets off another cart, his laugh ringing through the damp stone as another three players are killed off. And the building screams at the impact.
With another round of attacks on his side, Wemmbu makes the connection. The forest floor isn’t just wet, it’s soft. And the realization dawns on him. He turns to Flame, who had set another rail down, and Wemmbu lunges towards him, but the flaming arrows make impact, and the explosion rattles the earth below.
There’s a moment where everything freezes for them. The walls shake and the floor caves under the soft, wet dirt of the forest floor, and the already collapsing foundation of the structure, sucking the entire building into itself.
Wemmbu, from his lunge towards Flame, was able to redirect. Grabbing and caging the Flame within his wings as everything topples inwards and downwards.
He manages to shield Flame from the debris that fell atop them, but the netherborn took the impact of the floor head-on. Wemmbu, on the other hand, slammed shin first into the ground alongside Flame’s head. White-hot- searing pain explodes through his leg, and he audibly yelps out. His wings snap out, catching more of the falling rubble as his grasp on Flame’s body falters, and the man rolls from his arms, still covered by the wings that posed as a war umbrella.
He lets his wings twitch; the painful pressure of the entire fucking building on his back has led them to be a little worse for wear. And, although he was able to shelter Flame from the incoming rumble that still fell from the collapsing building, solely based on the instinct that if his wings drop so did the rest of the building, it did nothing for the hit that landed from the crash to the ground.
Everything hurt, and there was a crushing weight of the entire building held up by his back, keeping them from dying like the rest of the players that got caught in the collapse. Which had left Wemmbu in a state where he couldn’t think as he forced himself to stay upright, because keeping his battered body up didn’t just mean keeping himself alive but Flame as well.
Speaking of Flame. Wemmbu’s gaze snapped up, bad decision as more pain flooded him, and the debris groaned where flakes of fallen wood sprinkled down from the cracks in stone, the other fighter lay unconscious just a couple of inches away from his knees.
Okay. Yeah… okay.
Wemmbu needed to stay calm and not panic. He addressed him, looking Flame up and down, trying to read his limp body. His chest fell and rose, faint and out of time, but still a sign he was alive. There was a pool of blood from where his head made impact parallel to Wemmbu’s shoulders to where his body rolled after he had dropped him. He didn’t freak out, though. Head injuries bleed a lot, and this one was huge, but it probably looked much worse than it was. He would still wake up with a massive concussion.
However, Flame’s body was still racked with the severe injuries from the battle that had never healed fully. The one in his arm and side, still trickling out blood. And that isn’t to say for any internal injuries he might have gotten.
Flame, to say the least, was in really bad shape and needed to be helped immediately.
However, their situation left them in a little bit of a hopeless position.
Wemmbu redirected his attention to himself. Letting his eyes wander to where his leg felt like it was being torn off, finding a thick piece of copper pipe skewered through his shin and calf.
It’s alright, really, adrenaline had made the pain slowly start to turn numb, so the only thing he really had to focus on was keeping his wings spread and up enough where the building didn’t collapse on them, easy peasy. He, with much more energy than it should have been, coils his tail around the thigh of his speared leg, hoping it could act as a lazy tourniquet.
He was on his knees, back arched up so his wings and back canopied over the two of them. For right now, he ignored the fact that not just him but his wings were, you know, mildly injured.
That is to say, he needed to get them out of here, and he was kind of limited on options at the moment.
Willing himself to move his arm, he patted himself down, reaching into his inventory for his communicator. It was a little worse for wear as a piece of it seemed to have snapped during the fall, but he kind of had no other option for the moment.
Dialing the only number that can feasibly get them out. He waited, praying the angel would pick up.
“Yo bro, what’s up?” Egg’s voice rang through the device, and Wemmbu nearly sobbed right there, because thank the fucking gods. “You finished with Flame yet?”
Wemmbu’s wings twitched, and he had to force himself to sit up straighter. “No, not quite, man.”
“Whoa, are you okay? You sound awful.” Egg’s concern filtered through the speaker. He imagined the angel, sitting at his desk, amongst the books in his library, with the one with the red cover splayed across his desk, the book he’s been slowly getting through. Egg would have put his white and gold page marker in it once he realized it was Wemmbu calling. Funnily enough, it was Wemmbu who had gifted him the page marker.
The sound of rustling was heard in the background as Wemmbu struggled on his side. Oh right…
“Hey… listen, Egg.” Wemmbu started, his voice like gravel as his lungs screamed in protest. He coughed a bit, sputtering up a bit of blood that he chose to blissfully ignore. “Me and Flame got caught in a battle, pretty epic, right? Uuuh yeah anyways… well now he’s kinda passed out, and I’m stuck holding the building up so we don’t die. Soooooo we’re kinda stuck under a collapsed building with no way of escaping.”
There was a pause of complete silence, no more of that background shuffling, and no more of Egg’s rambling. Wemmbu had to strain himself to listen as his hands shook, holding the communicator. He was trying to disassociate from the pain in his back and leg while also concentrating on keeping the building up. Ironic, isn’t it?
“Wemmbu, are you okay?” There’s the concern again. Wemmbu hated being pitied; it sucked more than losing, but even now, he can admit that he’s in a bit of a tricky situation, and he greatly needed help. Especially now that the weight of the building is getting really heavy.
“Me? I’m splendid. But Flame could use a little TLC,” he grits out, hoping that he can portray the urgency of the situation through the communication device.
“Alright, send me your guys' cords, and I’ll get help,” Egg said. The background noise came back, this time more so. Wemmbu lets out a breathy laugh, imagining Egg scrambling around his study. He struggles to text out their whereabouts before completely dropping the communicator. “I’m going to have to make some calls… Wemmbu, if anything and literally I mean anything, happens, you call.”
“You worry too much.” The rubble above wavers and crushes Wemmbu’s spine. A grunt was forced past his lips as he collapsed a little onto himself. He scrambles to gain control, arching upwards and spreading his wings as much as he physically could. But his breathing wavers, and at this point, he is gasping for air as the weight becomes a little too much and pushes him to where he has to strain his hands on his knees to keep himself in a turtle-like position. His entire body is trembling, but he can’t do anything besides focus on keeping himself upright.
It must have been at that time that Egg hung up, because he can’t remember when the angel did. Great. So now he’s in a useless situation with, for lack of a better word for the moment, a useless Flame who’s passed out bleeding in front of him. Where they’re both waiting to not die, with the weight of the entire situation literally on his back.
Their blood made their small space smell metallic, like the inside of a steel canister. Which definitely didn’t mix well with the already horrid smell of rotting wood.
Speaking of small space… Wemmbu’s wings, although great masses of pure beautiful glory. Magnificent canopies that made enemies second-guess who they’re fighting when he shoots up into the sky were not as great for something like this. They lose muscle the further down to the tips you go, so really only the first third of the wings were able to keep the rubble up, with the help of Wemmbu’s back and pure will power, that is. So the rest of the wings just kind of domed around them, shielding the two of them like walls of a bunker around toppling stone and wood.
He managed to fully cover Flame from anything. But you know… making yourself the only thing between you, your partner, and death leaves you a little vulnerable in comparison. His leg was still impaled on the debris, but now there was a threat of the rooftop toppling over and fully crushing both of his limbs. The problem was that with the way they had landed, there was no way for him to cover his legs without moving his entire body, so he just had to close his eyes and hold his breath.
Time passes, and he can’t count how long it’s been. As he allows his mind to wander, only aware of the weight above him and the body below. He assumes it must have been a while because his communication device starts to vibrate with an incoming call from Egg. He can’t reach the communicator, not without collapsing in on himself, not with hands being the only thing keeping him upright right now.
Sorry Egg. But there’s no way to get to you at the moment.
Sweat beads and drops down his forehead from not only effort, but also the exhaustion. It’s hot down here, with Flame’s natural heat filling the cramped space, and the exercise he’s doing. Jeez, if he wanted to weight lift, he would have gone to the Great Sea and helped JadenMan move things around.
Wemmbu can tell his body is failing. He’s starting to get lightheaded, vision going in and out of focus, and it’s hard to stay awake. It’s getting harder to breathe as well, and he can’t tell if it’s from the exertion that he’s putting his body through or if they’re slowly losing oxygen in their bubble.
His back trembles again, and he has to burrow further into himself. Dipping closer to the ground in a shrimp-like posture. Another gasp leaves his lips, and he has to ball his hands up and dig them into his knees to keep himself from going any further or passing out entirely. More sweat falls from his face, and it feels like his entire body is clamming up on him. Every muscle in his body twitches in rejection as he knows that he’s pushing himself way beyond his limits. But it’s this or death, and he really doesn’t want to die.
The communicator continues to go off. Egg is probably desperately trying to get in contact with him. But he can’t even reach the device that had fallen to the left of Flame’s body. Sohe let it vibrate, angry and constantly. Even when it dies off, it just kicks back into another round of vibrations, and Wemmbu is left to just watch it.
At one point, he tries to close his eyes and pretend like the vibrations don’t exist. Like, he isn’t stuck under a building, and Egg isn’t trying to get to him. But that fails when there’s another source of movement from underneath him.
Flame was still situated under him. His legs encased by Wemmbu’s own, but his top half had rolled away with impact. His head, which was still very much bleeding, was closer to Wemmbu’s torn-up right wing than where his shoulders hunched.
A groan leaves his lips. A long, painful noise as the man tries to sit up. Eyes closed under his blindfold, he can’t make out where he is.
“Don’t sit up, moron.” Wemmbu’s rough voice cuts through the splitting headache he has. His body was tense, everything was sore, and it was hard to move his limbs. As everything for him felt like he was swimming through a vat of molten lead.
Flame had to blink a couple of times because even behind his blindfold, everything was blurry and spinning slowly. And he has to throw up… right now. His body lurches forward, he doesn’t feel it until it's too late.
“Bro, you have to choke that shit down.” Wemmbu coughs out through gritted teeth, but Flame can’t hear him as another wave hits him. Adrenalin takes over, and he spins onto his right side, hurling underneath himself. His body convulses with every breath he takes as more of his lunch comes out in intense vomit.
Flame’s body doesn’t feel like his. It’s weak, and every pore of his feels like it’s leaking blood. And he can’t distinguish between the numbness of his own body and the rocky floor he thinks he’s lying on.
More vomit comes up until he’s choking on his own bile, and his stomach feels like caving in on itself. Flame, after his wonderful display of consciousness, collapses to the ground. Breathing heavily and greedily. Sucking in his sharp, deep breaths every second he could.
He was only drawn out of his stupor by a loud sound of the walls around him shaking. There was a screeching of wood on cobblestone, and dust and small amounts of rubble fell onto his body. But what got his attention was the human noise that sang alongside the sound of the rubble. It was pained and guttural, all hurt and strength into one noise.
He lifts his head towards the noise. Craning his neck and straining his eyes to gather information.
And well, shit, he wasn’t expecting that.
Wemmbu crouched over his body in some of the worst conditions he had ever seen the dragon. Sweat and blood fell from his hanging face. His back arched high over them both with his wings domed around them like a leathery force field. The wings, themselves, are torn and bleeding, and were trembling like the rest of his body. He follows the trembling to his torso that is nearly folded in half over himself, trying to keep himself upright over Flame. His arms were doing a lot of the work as they looked like they had slipped from his knees to the floor. Knuckles are boring down into the rocky surface, now split open from what Flame can only assume to be a slight impact.
“Bro…” Flame slurred. It was hard to talk, but it was much harder to think at the moment.
“D-don’t… fuck…. Uhhh, open my communicator. Egg… Egg’s calling.” Wemmbu huffed out. Another glob of spit and blood rolled out of his mouth. This time, plopping just an inch away from Flame’s torso. He’d probably care more if Flame didn’t already share his lunch in their cramped tomb.
“What?” Flame’s head lolls to the side a bit. Eyes dancing around trying to make sense of what Wemmbu stuttered out.
It was then that something clicked. Oh… the building. His head. Wemmbu’s wings.
They’re trapped under a collapsed building.
Flame sighs and allows his body to slump to the floor. He’s really tired.
“F-flame… don’t sleep.” Wemmbu’s voice trembles in tandem with his body. Now, barring the same weight as the rest of him, because now it’s one mistake. One missed breath. One relaxed sigh and everything snaps. And then they’re crushed under a building that was supposed to be their safety.
Flame forces his eyes open and breaths in, cringing at the smell of his own sickness that plagues their combined space. He tries to become aware of his surroundings. Noticing that Wemmbu’s body is parallel to his, there is debris surrounding them from all sides, and something is vibrating near his left elbow.
He pats the area, his palm coming in contact with Wemmbu’s busted communicator.
“Pick up, Egg’s worried.” Wemmbu’s head dips, and the roof crumbles further in. Forcing Wemmbu to bow into slightly bent elbows. His hair is falling over his face, as it now takes a lot more energy to lift his head to keep the long purple locks out of the way.
Flame pressed the green button, and the results were almost immediate.
“WEMMBU!!! Thank you… Thank you. I thought something happened.” Egg’s exasperated voice filters through the static of the device. His breathing was uneven and fast, like he had to carry himself through a panic attack on his own while running a marathon. “Why didn’t you answer… I thought you died.”
“Alright, calm down, bro.” Flame groaned through a headache. The words slurred together a bit as he forced himself to speak.
“Flame?”
“Mmmmhmm.”
“Good, you’re awake. I need you to stay that way for a bit. We’re almost there.”
Flame looked back at Wemmbu. They didn’t have ‘almost there time’.
“No.”
“What?”
“Egg,” Flame breathed. It was hard, and it hurt. “Wemmbu doesn’t have time. You need to get here now.”
Egg went quiet on the other side, but Flame could make out voices. A rushed, frantic conversation between different parties is involved.
“We’re getting to you guys.” Egg’s voice came back this time soft, still urgent, but there was a certain gentleness there, and Flame had half the mind to cry. “We’re at the collapsed building. It’s uuuuuuuhhh… gonna take a second to get to you guys. Please Flame, make sure Wemmbu can hold out.”
“Hear that,” Flame spoke out to the dragon. His long purple hair fell over his head, creating a kind of curtain between his face and Flame. He picks up his other hand to brush the hair away to get a full view of Wemmbu, who seems to be caving in on himself. His other hand, holding the communicator, had slumped onto his chest. “You just need to hold out a little longer.”
“I- I think… this makes me… physically stronger than you.” Wemmbu forces out. A smirk twitches onto his lips.
“Nah… I could probably hold up this building much longer than you, I just don’t have wings.” Flame smiles back, playing along. He can’t do anything besides watch.
Watch as Wemmbu uses his last bit of strength to keep them alive. Watch has his entire body is one wrong breath away from collapsing in. Watch as his face loses the last little bit of color it had left. Watch as Wemmbu is holding more together than just the rubble of the collapsed building.
“We’re almost there.” Eggs' voice crackles in. But it’s lost in the tension in their dome. Both were too focused on other things than to listen to the what-ifs the angel’s voice promised.
Flame is so, so tired. But forces himself to stay awake. Not because he might not wake up again, more so because if Wemmbu can hold an entire building up by his wings and back, then he won’t let a silly little concussion get to him.
Plus, when they’re out of here, he has to make fun of the fact that this is totally Wemmbu’s fault to begin with.
He nearly comments on the fact, but Wemmbu beats him to the silence first.
“Flame…” Wemmbu’s trembling increases tenfold. It’s not just him and his failing muscles, but everything around them as well. “I- I can’t..”
Wemmbu drops a little bit, but manages to catch himself. The building shudders as more debris and dust fall. It’s terrifying, having your life in the hands of someone who isn’t fully there. Knowing that even at his best, it might not be enough, even this close to rescue.
“You’re okay. You’re almost done. Just a little bit more.” Flame tries desperately to reassure. He doesn’t move, can’t risk distracting Wemmbu now. He needs to make sure the dragon puts his whole concentration into keeping the building up.
And Flame sees it. If Egg doesn’t get here in mere seconds, it’s over. Wemmbu won’t be able to hold himself together much longer, and then after that, there’s nothing left for them.
Would it have been the same if it were reversed? Could Flame handle keeping up entire collapsing building to save not only his life but Wemmbu’s?
The problem is… he doesn’t know. There’s no definitive answer because it doesn’t exist. He would like think that he could.
But he’s not Wemmbu.
He doesn’t have Wemmbu’s wings.
Maybe he could be able to hold up the building. But hopefully he’ll never know, because this… yeah, this wasn’t as fun as his original training idea.
“Flame, I can’t anymore…” Wemmbu is frantic, his head popping up and making eye contact with Flame. There’s pure fear in his eyes as his arms tremble like an earthquake. “I can’t… too..”
His arms give out.
And everything stops.
Wemmbu gasp out a sharp breath. Eyes closing as the rock and wood start to topple over them. Flame’s reflexes kick in before he can think, and he reaches out to protect Wemmbu’s head.
But a light blinds him, and nothing makes contact with his arms. Nothing besides Wemmbu’s exhausted body makes contact with him.
Before, neither of them could register just how dark it was underneath all the rubble and debris. Too caught up in pain and discomfort to even notice the lack of light.
But now with it piercing, even through the blindfold, it’s hard to ignore.
It started as just a pin needle, but grew to a full-fledged attack on the eyes. Something that could rival the brightness of the sun. But it was cooler. No more uncomfortable shared body heat, but a gust of strong cool air wraps around them.
Then faces start to swarm his vision, and Flame could make out a pressure being lifted from his chest and panicking voices surrounding him.
He coughs for a second, then inhales, expecting to cringe at another insult to his nose, but he’s greeted with a pleasant smell of wet grass and something else. The second smell wasn’t as strong but familiar. He inhales again, this time more greedily, trying to make out the scent.
“Leg…”
“- he’s … awake.”
Voices surround him again, but Flame only really has one goal in mind.h. As he’s lifted out of the darkness by the familiar smell, he makes an effort to look around. He tries to get up and walk to where he know;s Wemmbu was lifted from, but he’s quickly eased down onto the soft earth. Eyes caught on a figure all in black with white, powerful eyes, next to the angel. Both of the hovering over a limp purple figure on the soft ground.
Minute and Egg shuffling around in tandem, working to bandage Wemmbu in earnest haste. While he’s handed a strong-smelling potion by a guy hovering over him. He makes out a mix of green and yellow feathers as two winged creatures dance around him in the same concern, mirrored a couple of feet away.
Flame in hales deep before taking the potion to his lips. And with the help of the people over him, he’s able to down it before falling unconscious again.