Every breath was fought for, but the battle became easier each time. Bent over with his arms against his chest, Eyde gasped and choked. The small creature clutched against his breast squirmed to be free. The alleyway behind the tenement block was cramped, houses loomed in on either side of them and the diminishing heat from the fire formed an invisible wall of its own.

Mina stood beside him, one hand on his back. Galatae was with the boy and his mother, treating the little one’s wounds while his mother paced back and forth alternating between sobbing and berating her child with language that Eyde could only describe as ‘colourful’.

“Deep breaths, Eyde,” Mina’s voice had lost almost an imperceptible fraction of the edge it usually carried.

“Thank you,” Eyde gasped between his fits of coughing. “Is Todan alright?”

Mina glanced in their direction, “The boy? Galatae is seeing to him. He’s a little burned, but children heal easier than adults. He should be fine. The Bastion’s mage is dealing with the fire.” She spat the name, her disgust evident.

“Good,” each breath Eyde took was becoming clearer. “We need to get to my room,” he managed.

“You shouldn’t move for a while. Galatae needs to check you over.”

Wincing with pain, Eyde moved his arms enough to reveal the bird clutched to his chest. It also exposed the scorched clothing and skin along his chest, arm, and hand.

Mina’s eyes widened a fraction at the sight, “Wait here.”

The subtle, white light enveloping the boy’s chest faded as Mina approached. Galatae gave an encouraging smile, but Eyde could see the strain on her face even from here. A quick whispered conversation was had between the two women, Galatae occasionally glancing across to Eyde, her expression becoming one of concern.

Crossing the distance between them at a brisk pace, Galatae examined his chest and arm. Eyde winced as she moved his free arm to better see his wounds. “If I don’t heal you now, that’s going to scar, Eyde.”

“No time,” Eyde replied. “This little one needs to be contained before he can do any more damage. If we get back to my room, I’ve got equipment there.”

“Michikum!” a shrill voice cut through the noise of the dying fire.

Looking over Galatae’s shoulder, Todan, showing no evidence of his recent injuries, could be seen running towards them with Mina and his mother trailing behind.

“Is Mitchikum alright?” The boy ran to Eyde, who showed him the ever-struggling bird. Eyde noticed it seemed to calm in Todan’s presence, fidgeting less and shrill chirps reduced to occasional peeps.

“He’s alright,” grimaced Eyde. “but he’s going to have to come with me for a while. Is that alright with you, Todan?”

“No!” he stamped his foot. “He has to stay with me.”

“That sun-forsaken bird.” his mother interjected. “It's been nothing but trouble since he found the little shit. I knew something like this would happen.” She stomped over to stand beside her son, “Todan, you’re to let this man take him away and no arguing.”

“But mum,” Todan began to cry in the way all small children do, tracks of tears and snot cleared paths through the grime on his face.

“Now, madam,” Eyde tried to be diplomatic, keeping his hoarse voice level. “I agree that ensuring… Michikum is safe is our top priority.” He gave the woman a significant look. “But perhaps Todan may be allowed to escort him to his new home. We will be happy for Todan to visit his friend whenever he wishes.”

Todan sniffed, “Can I, mum?” clearly keen to grasp as much time with his friend as possible.

His mother glanced between her son, Eyde, and the bird surrounded by burned flesh, her expression closed. “Oh, fine,” came her exasperated response. “But you make sure you bring him back,” she levelled an accusatory finger at Eyde. “We’ll be staying with Mrs Gellum until we find our feet. Todan knows the way.”

Todan’s mother turned on her heel and walked briskly down the alley, pausing at the end to cast a worried look towards her son before disappearing around the corner. Eyde smiled; for all her aggression, she clearly cared deeply for her boy’s wellbeing.

He turned to Todan, “If you’re going to come with us, I want you to hold on to Michukum as we travel. Is that alright?”

“Eyde, are you sure that–”

“It’s alright, Mina,” he interrupted in a not unkind manner. “Todan and Michikum are friends. You can see how he’s behaved himself since Todan arrived. Am I right?”

Todan nodded, keen to pull the bird close to his chest when offered to him by Eyde. Michikum emitted several high-pitched peeps as he settled into the boy’s arms with a ruffle of black and white feathers.

“Then it’s settled,” Eyde winced as he straightened to his full height, keeping his voice as bright as he could. “Shall we?”

“Are you sure it’ll be safe in there?” Berringly paced around the metal cage which had become Michikum’s new home, peering in over the rim of his spectacles. “I don’t want it to cause any harm to the guildhall.” The cage that had been retrieved from Eyde’s room was of a peculiar design. Upon removing what appeared to be a flat piece of brass from a wooden trunk, Eyde had placed a hand on either side and twisted it, revealing the construct to be two plates with something in between. The act of twisting caused metallic spokes to extend and lock into place, forcing Eyde’s hands apart, and forming the cage that was now situated on a layer of bricks placed upon one of the common room tables.

As Eyde had prepared the cage, Galatae had fussed around him, performing a brief assessment of Eyde’s wounds. Examination led to an order that Eyde should be returned to the guildhall where she could tend to his wounds with her full range of equipment, tired as she was. This was seconded by Mina who was keen to keep the bird where she could see it.

“Michikum will behave!” Todan sat beside the bird feeding him pieces of hard biscuit given to him by Berringly. Thanks to Galatae’s ministrations, it was near impossible to tell what the boy had been through.

“It’s the best we have for now.” Eyde sat shirtless on a chair close by. Galatae was tending to his burns as best she could, though her concerned noises and sighs were not filling him with confidence. “We should try to find something more fireproof to house him in, but he only seems to combust when he’s upset.”

“That’s right,” Todan spoke without taking his eyes from the bird. “He was just scared when Mum came in yelling about Mrs Gellum tartin’ about the place when she’s got a perfectly good husband at home. She threw a shoe and nearly hit him.“

“I thought Mrs Gellum and your mother were friends, Todan,” Eyde flinched as Galatae dabbed at his wounds with a foul-smelling poultice. After an initial round of magical healing, she had deemed the wounds to be in need of more drastic measures.

“They are.”

“Eyde, I wish you’d let me tend to this sooner,” Galatae’s voice was full of apprehension. “You’re not going to be able to avoid scarring on your hand and chest.”

“Better that than let the boy burn, Galatae,” Eyde managed a smile through his discomfort.

“Mum says you gotta be careful about people wi’ burns,” Todan announced in a faraway voice. He had begun wandering around the room, looking at the various paintings. “Says they’ll take you away an’ eat you if you’re naughty.”

Confused, Eyde looked to Galatae, “Why would she say that?”

“Binders, Eyde,” her eyes held equal parts sympathy and anger. “They use their bodies as a vessel for the Rhoki’s power. Do it for too long and it eats their human parts. Changes them physically. Those that are a vessel for the inferno often start to show burns on their skin.” Her hands clenched as she spoke, “It’s not just burns. Anything different can invoke the wrath of those who are ill-informed and used as a reason for hate.”

“I see,” Eyde looked at his burned hand. Though Galatae had healed much of the wound, the scarring from the fire was still evident. “I suppose I’d best become used to wearing gloves,” he said, almost to himself.

“I may be able to completely heal the scarring in time,” the tension eased out of Galatae’s voice as she took Eyde’s uninjured hand in hers. “Suuri would not let a good deed such as yours go unrewarded.”

“Suuri’s rewarding good deeds now, is he?” Mina spoke up from where she was leaning against the bar. She had been quiet for so long until now, Eyde had forgotten she was there at all. “I thought he might be too busy trying to hide his own indiscretions.”

“Please do not speak ill of my Darna,” Galatae’s brows creased. “His bride has been asleep for thousands of years. I think even you would be yearning for some company after that time, Mina.”

The tall woman gave a short, sharp laugh, “Perhaps you’re right, Gal’. But the boy’s right too. People start to think you’re a binder, that invites all sorts of trouble. Least of all the fact that the practice of binding a Rhoki spirit and therefore binders themselves are outlawed in Volgorne. Best to keep that hand hidden for now.”

“People get burned all the time,” Eyde said with no small measure of disbelief. “Surely there’s a difference.”

“Possibly,” Mina conceded. “But that doesn’t matter to someone who’s scared. Someone who wants to protect what little they’ve got left. Night, even someone who’s fed up and wants to kick rather than be kicked themselves for a change.” She stood and moved to the cage, peering in at the bird, “People don’t like different.”

“Michikum seems none the worse for wear considering he just burned down a house,” Eyde eyed the small black and white bird as it chirped and flitted about its cage. “Why is he not burned?”

Mina sighed, “Who knows how that works. But it’s little effort for a human binder to access the Rhoki and draw enough power to start a fire without damaging themselves. Those tenement blocks are a hazard as well, all packed together and stuffed with refuse.”

“Yes, indeed,” Berringly interrupted. “There have been accounts of Binders living for many years without detection due to their lack of outward changes. Michikum himself is a fine example.” The room looked at him with blank expressions. “Oh, I apologise. I thought you had already made the connection.” More silence followed. “I see. Well, put it this way; Todan, why did you name Michikum so?”

The child once again sat, kicking his legs atop a chair. “Like from the story,” he said with an air of disinterest.

“Story?” Galatae asked.

Berringly smiled, “I do sometimes forget that none of you are native to Volgorne. I suppose Teyvar would know…” Relaxing his arms with his fingers laced before him, Berringly cleared his throat. “A popular story used by parents to scare their children into behaving is the tale of Michikum, bound of the Inferno. Michikum lived in Volgorne for years, scraping out a normal life in the Roots. His occupation varies between retellings, a carpenter, a metal worker, but that is unimportant. At this point in their life, Michikum is portrayed as a kind man, who uses his magic to entertain children, and keep fires burning in the homes of the poor, that sort of thing. Never enough to have it affect his body.”

A practised storyteller, Berringly gave his voice a subtle edge that sharpened further as he spoke “One day, after years of hardship and strife, Michikum is pushed too far. In some stories, this is by a lover. In others, a cruel employer. The result of this is that Michikum flies into a rage. After all, why should he with all his power submit to the abuse and unfair treatment of those above him? What makes them more deserving than he?”

Beside him, Todan made a loud booming noise and threw his hands into the air.

Berringly grinned down at the boy and threw his hands forwards in a dramatic stance. “Just so. Michikum pulled forth the power of his Rhoki spirit, laying waste to much of the roots in the process and killing dozens. The mage’s guild, the palace guard, and all the mercenary guilds of Volgorne fought for three days before they were able to subdue him. Even then, they say it was his bond that killed him. His body succumbed to the toll demanded of it by the power he was funnelling from the Inferno.”

Silence fell over the room for a few moments before Eyde spoke, “Is that all true?”

Berringly considered this for a few moments. “I daresay there are some exaggerations. One slight seems a poor reason to wreak the sort of havoc Michikum is said to have caused, but you will notice that there are some parts of the Roots that appear much more recently constructed than others. There is also a record of the battle in the guild’s annals.” Berringly took his seat beside the cage once more.

“Three days?” Mina added, making no attempt to hide her disbelief.

“Just so,” Berringly met her gaze. “You’ve fought binders before, have you not?”

“Yes, but most of them were already used up. Burned through their power so quickly they wouldn’t last three hours, let alone three days.”

Eyde’s eyes widened in alarm. “Most?” he asked. “You make it sound like they’re a common occurrence.”

“More common than you’d think,” Galatae smiled at Eyde and winked. “Don’t worry, Eyde. We’ll keep you safe.”

“Stop teasing him, Gal’,” Mina ran her fingers through her untamed hair. “We need a plan. We don’t know enough about what’s happening.”

“Might I suggest,” Berringly removed his spectacles, cleaning them with a handkerchief as he spoke. “We require someone who has knowledge of the nature of binding. It may give us some insight into what is happening to Michikum and his ilk.”

“You think we should get the mages involved,” Mina stated with a voice drained of emotion. “That means getting onto the Quick.”

“Only in an advisory capacity,” he replaced his spectacles on their perch and continued. “They need not know about the issue as a whole. Rather, we could approach them as students, eager to learn and engage with them in their subject of expertise. As for access to the Quick, we already count one among our number who can come and go as they please.” He raised his eyebrows towards Eyde.

As the others turned to him, Eyde removed from the pocket of his trousers the brass token he was given by Crinchley. He held it up, the light glinting from its surface.

“Ooh, another opportunity to see Felora, Eyde,” Galatae giggled, nudging Eyde with her elbow.

Mina rolled her eyes. “We’re not involving the mages. Eyde can have fun on his own time.”

“What fun?” Eyde groaned, replacing the brass disc in his pocket. “Didn’t you just tell Galatae to stop teasing me?”

“That’s different,” Mina gave a smirk. “She’s not me.”

“Thank the moon,” Galatae smiled and muttered under her breath, but seemed to ensure it was loud enough for Mina to hear every word.

Mina shot her a vexed look. “Eyde needs to rest, you and I will return Todan to his mother.”

At the mention of his name, the young boy’s head swivelled to face Mina. “No,” he moaned. “I wanna stay with Michikum.”

Galatae crouched in front of the child. “It’s alright, Todan,” She smiled, placing her hand on his shoulder. “We’re going to keep him safe and you can come to visit whenever you like.”

Todan’s bottom lip stuck out, his eyes downcast as he continued to sulk.

“Come on. Let’s get you back to your mum. We did make a promise, didn’t we?”

The boy gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head.

Galatae stood and held out her hand, “Then it’s agreed. Shall we see if we’ve got something tasty in the back to send you home with?”

Slowly, Todan took her hand and was led between the tables to the back rooms of the guild, his feet scuffing along the floorboards.

Eyde finished struggling into the clean shirt he had retrieved along with the cage. “Mina, I wanted to thank you for pulling me out of that building. I –”

Mina cut him off with a shake of her head, “You’re one of us now, Eyde. We take care of each other.” She punched him in his undamaged shoulder, a little too hard to be merely playful. “What you did was brave. Stupid, but brave. I suppose you’ve suffered enough for it, though.” She gave a brief smile and turned to the back of the room. “Come on, I’m sure we’ve got something around here that can cover up that scarring.”