[Think. Think.]
It was becoming hopeless. The transparent firestarter was starting to spread along the ground and inch closer to Ashton.
It was like a snake slithering towards him, subtle but its hiss was roaring.
Every inch it came forward, Ashton's mind raced faster than before.
[The flame isn't affecting pure mana, only elemental spellcraft. I would be long dead without my manas protection...]
It was his first true thought in nearly a minute, the first that led to action. The neurons in his brain hadn't even sent the signal to the rest of his body before his mana started to stir.
In the palm of his hand, mana rose from his skin and condensed. It was the size of a marble at first but, [Not enough...] Ashton thought.
Despite the liquid creeping only inches from his feet, almost in every corner of the room. Despite the crackling and popping of the inferno, Ashton stood in concentration.
Layering mana around the marble sized ball until he could no longer wrap his fingers around it.
The mana in his palm, guided by the aim of Ashton, shot vertically from his hand and into the ceiling. The roof crumbled into the dust and rained sand down into the room. The gaping hole, like a hole in a boiler, plunged the fire upward, sucking the heat into the room above as fresh oxygen rushed in.
[That was not what I was trying to do...] Ashton thought as he looked down at the strangled alchemy potion, rock and the sediment boiling over top it.
Catching his breath with cleaner air than before, the chemical taste remained in his mouth and in the burn of his nose. [I was only trying to create shadows, to grasp the liquid for study, but I put too much into my mana]
While he was left without physical prize, the alchemy too mixed with impurity even to his uneducated surmise, he was content.
But only for a moment. This satisfaction was thin, gone like a leaf rolling in the wind.
He realized there was more to do, people to save and a fire still raging.
So, he dashed through the colosseum, his footsteps still without sound. Noticing the fact this time, but he hadn't had the time to contemplate it over the screams echoing in the hallway.
On the other side of a doorway, multiple pleads for help fill Ashton's mind. They were weak pleads but robust in emotion, like a newly hatched bird finding its screech.
He tried to push to door open, but the weight of it was too much. [What is on the other side?] He thought as he molded his mana around his body and pressed against the door again.
It didn't budge again.
Mana enhancement wasn't enough so, Ashton grabbed hold of the shadowy hallway and pierced the doors with it like a hook.
Ripping the door from its hinges, shelves and boxes full of grain and rice fell from inside.
Ashton stood against the weight with a ward, the fallen debris bounced off his spell and burst like insects against glass.
The burned cheeks form their steamed tears, their shallow breath and ash embedded against their skin. The sight of anguish Ashton had run into, overshadowed by the clear alchemical potions in the corner of the room.
[Luckily this room is massive, and the flame is burning under a window. Otherwise...]
"Young Master..." Marcella collapsed into Ashton's arms, her voice cracked by heat and grief. "They're dead. The Master Chef, and the others..." Tears rush from her eyes, but sizzle from the heat as she confesses.
"Marcella? Why are you here?" Throwing the maid over his shoulder, "Everyone who can walk get into the hallway, I will take care of the rest."
The chefs and butlers who were trying to help their collogues rushed from the room in a guilty haste. They were ashamed to have left behind their friends and co-workers but were confident in Ashton.
As the room cleared, Ashton brought his shadow as far into the room as possible before the fire eclipsed it.
"Young Master... I was just trying.." Marcella faintly tries to explain, but Ashton hushes her.
"Don't speak Marcella, you're alright now"
Placing her onto the bed of the manipulated shadow, Ashton went back and forth taking survivors from the room to the blackened bed.
By the time he had cleared the room, a squadron of knights rushed down the hallway "My Lord!" they called out as they were about to kneel, but Ashton interrupted.
"There is no time for that! Take these people to true safety."
It was routing. His command, put men into motion without so much as a hiccup.
The fading image of the knights and servants caused Ashton to step back into the kitchen while layering another ball of mana.
[To take the potion back with me, I must calculate the appropriate amount of mana this time...]
It was a moment of calm to Ashton, math racing through his mind, measuring the power of a single square inch of the mana ball, and estimating the integrity of the concrete ceiling. The chaos of the world faded, and Ashton was left standing alone in intense focus.
Only, he wasn't alone.
(Master. Call for me)
The voice in his head sounded young yet intelligent and formal in tone. It was elegant, but not human.
It was a distraction that caused his mana to dissipate, but Ashton had a feeling.
[Judah?]
(Call me forward. Master.)
Now with his shadow, casted from the room and into the hallway, his connection to Judah was restored. Yet Ashton was confused, Judah's communication with him was unfounded.
As he allowed Judah to rise from his shadow, the flame around his neck forced the chemical one to rescind.
Like it was bowing to its superior.
[Why haven't you communicated with me until now?] Ashton asked. Not with authority or unpleasantness, but fascination, almost relief.
(I was still hazy when I awoke from our fight. Master. By the time I knew I could, our connection was cut off)
Stepping deeper into the room, into the blaze of the potion, Judah was untouched by the fire. It curved around him, gave way to his presence.
[Is the flame scared of you, Judah?]
Opening his mouth, Judah inhaled the fire from its base.
To those outside, it was like somebody erased the fire. It was there, raging without forgiveness or rest, then it begun to shrink. Within seconds, the wall of fire disappeared, the only evidence it was ever there was the black walls it danced along.
And of course, the victims.
"It was the Young Master! cough cough cough. I know it was..." Marcella, who had just made it outside, coughing from the smoke in her lungs announces.
Judah turned to face Ashton, (Master. I felt no emotion from the flames, but they tasted bad) licking his paw to get the taste out, revealing the potion left behind him.
At the sight of the potion and the fires disappearance, Ashton smiled.
[Good work, Judah]