“Ow.”
With a snap of his finger, a small mote of light appeared in Retvik’s hand. Most Rethavok, despite being aligned with the element of light, were unable to actually use the element itself. Retvik was one of the few exceptions, and even then, he couldn’t do much with it. However, right now, that tiny mote of light was invaluable in helping Retvik work out what had just happened.
It seemed that Retvik was partially trapped, underneath something that stank of ash and soot. He wasn’t buried too deeply, he could free himself somewhat easily, but the fact that he was buried in burnt rubble was rather concerning.
Retvik tried to recall what happened as he pulled his leg and tail free from the debris. Someone had shouted something about a fire, and then, well, everything caught fire. Considering he was in a wooden warehouse with wooden floors and only a light roof, no wonder everything had burnt so quickly. His personal gym, made from a converted warehouse was now nothing but ash. As were the ten other warehouses that existed down this road.
Luckily, Retvik wasn’t completely buried. In fact, with a little bit of digging, he managed to pull himself into fresh air. It tasted rather nice, compared to the soot. But nothing and no one around him was as lucky. There was an underlying scent, one that terrified Retvik. The smell of burnt flesh. Weirdly, not his own. Inspecting his body, Retvik realized that he was… perfectly fine, aside from burn marks and some cuts and scratches. And those minor injuries were… healing up before his eyes.
Something horrible had happened, and yet Retvik was unharmed.
His attention though was turned back to that smell. He wasn’t alone when everything caught fire.
“Gavir! Fekrim! Where are you?”
No response. His fellow Rethan gladiators hadn’t been too far away when the fire struck. Retvik began to panic. He made a much larger beacon of light, then started to dig with his bare hands, pushing metal stabs to one side. Eventually, after what felt like a good hour, Retvik found something. The body of Fekrim, his body crushed, his natural plating burnt and his flesh incinerated. The formerly white and gold Rethan was completely unrecognizable.
“Oh gods…” Retvik sniffed, not really sure how to process what was going on. If Fekrim was like this, then there was little chance Gavir could have survived. Still, Retvik began to dig anyway, trying to follow the scent of burnt flesh. Gavir though, Retvik finally spotted part of him. An arm. Digging deeper, Retvik revealed his tattered friend.
“R-Retvik?” Gavir’s normally gruff voice was trembling with fear.
“I am here for you, friend.”
“T-thank you…”
Gavir was breathing and alive, but Retvik didn’t know for how long. Thankfully though, voices could be heard in the distance. Retvik gently put Gavir down, then stood up and waved his arms frantically.
“OVER HERE! HELP!”
A vehicle sped over, some sort of rescue vehicle with water pumps attached to it. Three Ksithans jumped out and immediately started tending to Gavir, while a fourth approached Retvik.
“What happened?”
“I do not know. Fekrim… did not make it.”
“Where is he?”
Retvik pointed in the direction of his fallen friend. Another Ksithan scurried over to their location.
“Are you injured?”
“Only slightly.”
“Was there anyone else in the building?”
“I… do not know…”
“Alright. There is bottled water and blankets in the truck, take some, you’ll need it. We’ll take it from here.”
Retvik stood motionless as the Ksithans got to work, wondering what else he could have done and, more importantly, how he had managed to survive.