Johar ran through the trees, his heart beating and sweat streaking his cheeks. He scrambled over boulders and ducked under shrubs, but the woman following him did not stop. It looked to him as if she were merely striding towards him, but he knew she was faster than that. His rough cloak caught on a branch and he ripped it free, snapping the thing with a loud crack. He did not care about holes in his clothes tonight, he just did not want to face her. He ran, thinking of Tom. The boy did not deserve his fate. They did not know what this woman was capable of when they went for her. He only wanted her purse for a few more drinks, but that was irrelevant now. The hazy sensation he got from one-too-many drinks was gone now, instantly replaced by panic. Whether he lived or died, the boy's death would be on his conscience. His boot hit a rock and he found the floor with a hard thud, his world spinning from the sudden impact. Scrambling upwards he turned to watch where the woman was. A twig broke near him and he turned with his belt knife in hand. There, the plump woman in brown woolens stood, walking towards him, serenity on her face but a storm of rage in her eyes.
He flipped his knife in his hands and threw it at her with all the strength he could muster. The woman couldn't kill him if the thing landed her in the eye. As the blade left his fingers the woman's hands were suddenly encompassed in an orange glow and she flicked it gently, a small bolt of fire spreading from her fingertips and engulfing the belt knife in flames. He stopped breathing. The bolt did not stop, it merely let the knife pass through and continued speeding towards him. He could do nothing but lift his hands and yelp. His world exploded in fire.
Elma was breathless. All that running! She would not stop, though. Twice tonight she almost ended up with a knife in her belly. She felt sorry for the child, but did not regret what she did. They would kill her for her purse? Insufferable men. She watched, somewhat pained, as the ball of fire took away the lad's hands and then seared away his face. She watched the corpse, its head nothing now but black char, slump and fall to the ground. She clicked her tongue irritably. She walked over to the man and lightly kicked his coin satchel. Empty. The boy must have drunk everything away. She stepped over the corpse and made her way eastwards, back to the road. It was late, the area should be somewhat empty. She carefully tread over boulders, dried leaves and large tree roots. She wouldn't like being tracked if anyone was on her trail at this very moment. She was so, very tired. Channeling two threads of fire in less than an hour, and then running! She clicked her tongue again and made her way out of the shadowy night.
