Threads of the Soul

Alexandra let out a strained groan, her arms trembling as she desperately held apart those tyrannical jaws. It was impossible to tell what was worse, the impending death that awaited if her strength failed her, or having to endure this things rancid breath as she fought for her life. Honestly, every time it exhaled and forced her to take a face full of that stench, like a dozen rotten eggs dropped in a vat of vinegar, it made her seriously consider just letting it kill her.

The thick, heavy slabs of concrete that were covering her herculean arms began to develop a concerning web of cracks. Fissures drawing themselves across the stone with puffs of rock dust, each crack weakening her strength ever so slightly and allowing the jaws to inch closer and closer.

The only thing stopping her from sliding back despite its weight bearing down onto her, as well as stopping it from simply picking her up and removing her leverage, was the concrete that had climbed into her legs. Morphing into her being until her legs became one with the ground itself, but even those stone pillars were beginning to crack.

Turning her head to the side, she endured another onslaught of its pungent odour before finally releasing the deep breath she had been holding in, she shouted behind her. In this form, her voice was deep and gravelly, with a growling reverberation, like a mustang roaring its engine in a mountain cave.

"Any time now princess sparkles!"

"..."

Although she never received a reply, she never expected one either. She couldn't risk a look behind her, since any lapse in concentration could easily end with her taking a bath in stomach acid, but even without looking she knew what was going on. She had set it in motion, after all.

While Alexandra was holding off the Rat King, keeping its drooling and festering maw at bay, Astra was surrounded by a circle of crackling, pale blue lightning. Her eager little puppy was making endless laps around its master, the ground around it becoming covered in a layer of thick frost and ice as static electricity sparked across its fur, generated from its constant movement. Even where the lightning struck the ground, instead of being scorched or melted was instead frozen solid.

But such lightning strikes were few and far between, as all of the bolts were instead arcing towards Astra's hands.

In the middle of the pale blue circle, Astra gently floated a few inches off the ground, sparks jolting onto the concrete beneath and rapidly melting it as she floated harmlessly above. With her legs pressed together, her arms held close to her to her body and her palms facing up to the sky, Astra absorbed every morsel of energy that she could from her loyal pup.

The cold energy flooding her body and churning within her core, rapidly heating up until the very air around her shimmered with a heat haze. Her eyes glowing bright and her hair dancing in a non existent wind. Yet no matter how much energy she absorbed.

The pup was just unable to produce enough wattage in such a short amount of time. She could remember how much the Drake took, but she was still a few minutes away from that kind of output.

'Just gotta... hold on for... a little longer'

Alexandra chanted to herself in her mind as she stared down the Rat Kings throat. She could see out of the corner of her eye, the bird-man was racing his way over to her, his gargantuan sword dragging behind him. Unfortunately for him, as soon as he stopped slicing apart the beasts leg, was the same moment it was able to start reattaching it.

Before he could reach them, tendrils erupted from the newly re-attached paw, catching his leg and sending him tumbling to the ground, only to be crushed by the Rat Kings paw a few seconds later.

She was really hoping such a blow wouldn't kill him, but she couldn't spare the energy to worry about him at the moment. Especially as she watched as the beasts jaw began to split down the middle, allowing it to open its mouth into four quadrants.

With her hands busy still trying to pry apart two of the freshly made quadrants, the remaining two clamped down on her mountainous body, piercing through the concrete as if it was little more than bread.

Letting out a strained cry of pain through gritted teeth, Alexandra held firm even as the serrated teeth plunged deep into her flesh. One through her shoulder and the other through her waist, its fangs wiggled inside her with every minute movement, which only sent fresh waves of excruciating agony throughout her body.

She was, naturally, so focused on the torment convulsing its way through her body, as well as keeping away the remaining jaws, that Alexandra barely noticed the odd, pungent odour filling the air until it was directly tickling her nose.

She was ready to brush it off as a new wave of the beasts rancid breath, but as she accidentally inhaled a few whiffs of the odour, that train of thought was quickly derailed. It was oddly... familiar. It reminded her of home and, strangely, of cow farts.

Right as Alexandra was about to brush off the notion, thinking it was just her mind playing tricks on her in her last moments, she noticed a small flicker of light entering her field of view. Against all odds, a tiny match was tumbling through the air with a flame flickering tenderly at its tip.

'Oh... Cow farts...'

As Alexandra finally came to the realisation, she watched as the flickering match hit harmlessly off of the beasts rancid flesh, right before everything within her vision erupted into a blazing inferno.

***

A few minutes earlier.

Alfie slowly lowered his hand as he watched his Lord's back retreat into the distance, followed by those he actually trusted. Those who were actually useful. He could hear the snickers and goading mutters of those around him, laughing amongst themselves at his failure. It was a sound that he had long grown used to, and become accustomed to drowning out.

His humiliation always seemed to be a wonderful source of entertainment for others, so much so that many went out of their way to inflict suffering onto him whenever they could, just to give themselves an extra little giggle at his expense.

Of course, Alfie knew that his Lord wasn't like this. It almost felt blasphemous to even suggest it, so how could he seriously think such a stupid thing? No... He knew that the Lord was just looking out for him, and that he was right. His powers really weren't made for combat. If he got someone killed because he was weak... Alfie wouldn't know what to do with himself.

He was already riddled with an ungodly amount of guilt over Seth's situation. They were friends... they had looked out for each other. Yet when Seth got hurt, he was useless. When he heard Sirius say that he had died... Alfie couldn't help but blame himself.

Maybe if he pushed him out of the way quicker. Maybe if he had done more. Maybe if he wasn't so weak...

Even when Seth made his triumphant return alongside their Lord, that guilt didn't subside. In fact it got worse and worse. Every time he looked at his arm, he knew that was his fault, no one else's. It was so overwhelming that he could barely bring himself to talk to Seth, all the while knowing that he had left his friend to fend for himself and nearly die when he was running away.

Yet... he survived. While others were gawking at the Lord, getting inspiration from his overwhelming physical strength, Alfie had another inspiration. His friend, this scrawny guy who looked weaker than Alfie did, who never let himself fall even when he was abandoned.

Alfie wanted to get stronger, he needed to be, so he could finally make up for the useless child he had been up until this moment. He needed to prove that he could be more.

So, when the Lord Crow was slammed into the ground and buried beneath the beasts colossal foot, Alfie didn't hesitate to move. Before he even made up his mind he was moving, sprinting across the battlefield as fast as his skinny legs could carry him.

The gas pipe duct taped to his arm rattled with every movement, until he finally skidded to a stop near the beasts head.

Making sure the gas regulator underneath his wrist was closed, He churned his power into overdrive. Everything he could was pumped into the plastic bag that was tied tight under his arm pit, the same bag that led into the gas pipe attached to his arm.

As the pressure built up, Alfie dug a box of matches from out of his pocket and thrust his hand forward, like he was about to release a powerful energy blast. Yet nothing happened, until he finally released the regulator valve, causing a noxious odour to blast forth from the hose and pour over the Rat King's head as was digging its teeth into Alexandra. All the while doing his beast to aim it further up its head, and away from the armoured Amazonian.

There were many limitations to his abilities, mainly what he could and couldn't produce and what dictated those limits classed as a 'scent'. But one wonderful thing he had discovered, completely by accident, was that even though he was restricted to particular smells, the smells themselves were always composed of their true source elements.

'I might just be a joke to everyone else, the nerd with the 'Fart powers', well you know what? Even farts have their uses. So choke on this, feel the wrath of some rancid cow farts and just remember one of their main ingredients. Methane!'

Striking the match, a triumphant smirk spread across Alfie's lips as the tiny flame flickered to life, before tossing it onto the gas pyre he had built.

KRAKAKOOOOOOOOOM!