Thomas squinted but he couldn't make out the charging figures. That didn't matter much because they were charging right at them. They weren't allies. Thomas's arm blurred and a javelin whistled into one of their chests with a crack. Frey charged at another, picked him up by the throat, and flung him up into the ceiling.

Cracks ran along the room's interior. Frey stepped to the side as his opponent, his victim, was buried under a rubble of dust and old ceiling. The third jumped at the now-weaponless Thomas, who rolled out of the way and left his leg outstretched, catching the last man by his ankle. The man tumbled to the ground, weapon flying into the wall just shy of Thomas's head.

The man's world darkened as a giant figure loomed over him. Frey put his full weight behind his elbow as he drove it into the man's stomach.

Thomas winced, almost feeling sorry, almost. He went to collect their weapons but stopped, seeing Frey charge ahead, deeper into the room. Thomas let go of the armful of weapons and stumbled after him only to be met with the disappointment of an empty room. Frey opened the moth-eaten curtains and yanked the boards away from the window. The view of the outside made him scowl: "They're setting the wood on fire."

Thomas took a quick look outside as well, finding that the wood was now a roaring blaze which circled around the entire academy, placed just far enough so that the building wouldn't be likely to catch fire, not that it would catch fire with the stone base. Great plumes of smoke rose into the clear sky, the only clouds above the white, fluffy sea stretching around the mountain peak.

Jackal and his closest friends were running around giving instructions and handing out strange devices to everyone. One of the instructors, Mr. Bruke, had come close, observing with a mixture of great interest and caution much like a parent watching their kid spar for the first time. "They can't set the building on fire," Thomas argued as he followed Frey and drew another javelin.

"Listen to me," Frey said as he went down another doorway which led into a kitchen. "They won't break the rules but they can bend them. I have no idea how but they're going to do it again." The ground was shattered white tiles.

Weapons jutted out of the single wooden dining table, flipped over to provide cover. Several small shadows darted around the many cabinets, vanishing within the tiny holes made by their claws and teeth.

They went through another doorway which led to a guest bedroom with no mattress on the bedframe. Through another door they discovered that the broom closet had swords instead of brooms. Across from it, a cellar door was covered with tripwires leading to crossbow triggers.

They went through every room on the first floor. Not one of those places held anything other than once elegant furnishings. The boards on the windows had been pried loose, letting light from the flames into the building. The few people who did charge at them where quickly beaten down, mostly by Frey.

There was no sign of Elero even after searching the entire first floor so they returned to the staircase, their sweaty armor covered in light scratches. Hurried, creaking steps brought them to the second story, where an open space of wooden railings, floorboards, and dozens of doors greeted them.

"Elero, where are you?" Frey yelled. "We need to leave!" He and Thomas went back to back, expecting the doors to fly open.

The seconds ticked away but they heard none of the expected thunderous steps. None of the doors flew open. Nothing.

Even the shouts of battle had quieted. There was still noise, the crackling of fire and far-off steps, but it came muffled through the thin, broken walls. A silence had taken over the building, one that crept down Thomas's neck and clenched around his throat. Frey coughed, then again, the third timer longer, drier. Thomas's eyes went watery and his vision blurred.

"Frey," Thomas coughed, a grim reality forcing itself down upon him. "Jackal and his men did start a bonfire but maybe it wasn't to set the building on fire. I think the goal was to produce smoke and funnel it into this building through the first story."

"What's so bad about smoke?" Frey asked in between coughs.

Thomas kicked the closest door down. Inside the room and around the soft bed Thomas had craved in his days in the swamp were people with weapons still in hand, just barely clinging to consciousness as they lay on the ground. "Wait a second…the windows and fireplaces on the upper floors are blocked. There's nowhere for the smoke to go but our lungs! He's trying to smoke everyone out."

Frey finally grasped the danger. "Elero!" He yelled only to get no response. "Thomas, you get that side while I get this side." He busted down a door on the opposite end of the hall, life essence surging around his body.

Thomas condensed life essence around his legs and frantically ripped each door open, almost pulling them off their rusted hinges. They each stormed through the maze of winding hallways and dozens of bedrooms.

After the searching through the seventh room, Thomas fell to his knees, nearly coughing up Bullfrog meat. He wiped his cheek and hurried onward, stumbling over his uncoordinated feet. In fact, his entire body seemed to get weaker with each intake of the corrupted air.

It wasn't immediate, but he could sense his consciousness clouding up. 'Not yet.' Some unknown voice inside of him seemed to say. 'Up.' He stood. It was as if a second wind pushed him forward. It was his voice, a part of him hidden deep inside, one that commanded his body to keep going. The eighth, the ninth, the tenth, he kept searching until finally, he found her, Elero. 'It wasn't the smoke that stopped the fighting,' he thought. 'It was her and the nobles. They won.'

"What took you so long?" Elero smiled even while coughing. The very words made her wince and clutch at her bruised, lacerated sides. She sat in a chair at the back of the room, in the only spot where the unconscious forms of her enemies weren't.

Her braces had twisted up, turning her legs into a mess of tangled flesh. She wiped a bit of blood from her mouth as Thomas made his way over, having to watch his step. "Most of the fun is over…" She lurched forward and threw up. "But I couldn't make it to the third floor."

"Y-your legs." Thomas gasped. "They're in a horrible state. Did you fight while wearing your braces?"

"I had to," Elero coughed. "I couldn't keep my legs in place with life essence alone and I had to keep going, I needed to keep going. Alexander is going to get me a new set anyway, and the old ones wouldn't have lasted long even though I had fixed them. Can you help me out of this place?"

Thomas nodded. "We're going to have a talk after this." He knelt down, leaving his back directly in front of her. She pulled herself onto his back, metallic screeching like a grate to Thomas's ears. Red trickled down Thomas's back. "Why did you do all of this? Why did you go ahead instead of waiting?"

"I did it…" She said, each word softer than the last. "Because I need to become stronger. I need to be better."

"Well what do you think we're here for?" Thomas asked. He debated flicking her forehead but he was scared she would break his finger. "I thought only Frey would do something that stupid. Get yourself together and stay with the group next time. You'll just lose if you go on like this. Do you get it?" He looked back, finding that she had already slipped into unconsciousness.

Thomas's eyes went watery again. He cursed and shook his head, coughing as he did so. No matter how much he wiped his eyes, everything remained a grey blur, what he imagined the inside of his lungs looked like. His mind begged for air but his body rejected to draw breath.

"Frey!" Thomas tried to call but the words barely rattled out of his throat. All the running, fighting, and yelling had made him take in so much smoke that he could barely keep himself standing straight. His world spun, but he managed to make his way across the room.

The door directly behind him flew off its hinges opened, and something wrapped around both Thomas and Elero. "Your smoke break is over." Frey said.

Thomas's stomach lurched forward as Frey charged back through the doorway in a mad rush, breaking through wooden wall after wooden wall, forcing his way through any obstacle.

"Can't you use the door?" Thomas coughed.

"Can't." Frey responded. "I don't know how to get out." Thomas wearily raised his head. Nothing was familiar, and everything was blurry. Forget the door, he could barely focus on the wall, but Frey charged through everything. Each step, however, was slower than the last.

Frey bounced off a wall, cracking it but not breaking it. Splinters came loose and dug into Frey's arm. Frey shook his head before charging through it, successfully this time. The giant's breathing turned shallow, quick, and uneven.

"Together," Frey wheezed, pointing at something Thomas couldn't make out. Even he had run out of stamina. Just as Frey was about to let go of Thomas, a bright flash pushed them forward. Thomas could have sworn he saw a greyish wing.

For a couple of seconds, everything was black. He heard glass shatter, heavy thuds, and a dull pain smack his entire body. The smell of the dirt was so pleasant. He opened his eyes and used life essence to focus them. An encirclement of bonfires burned. Blurry figures shoved in wood while others fanned the smoke into the building's windows with strange devices. His world went black.