Here you can read all the almost complete stuff from Fire Of The Trio. Still gotta edit it some but I'm almost there.
Prologue:
Just as The Trio left Nellade, two things happened. Silver betrayed Black and The Trilogy were released from Vascrede. If they had known that those two things had happened or if they had even thought it was possible for one of them to happen they never would have left.
But they were already gone.
*
Vandon was the head of The Trio. Though he didn't look it, he was the oldest and by far the most mature. He was the one who would rather make peace than war. Some wondered why he was in The Trio at all.
Calix was Vandon's half-brother. They didn't look even remotely similar so no one would have guessed. He seemed to enjoy every minute of the violence they ran in to. Though he respected Vandon and his decisions, he wasn't happy when Kazer was allowed to join.
Kazer was the youngest in the group. The scar over his left eye seemed to be a sign of his inexperience. Not that he wasn't a good fighter, but he could use a bit more training.
*
Vandon was lost in Drango forest. Kazer and Calix's constant bickering in the background didn't help his concentration any. If he could just hold on a few more minutes, maybe, just maybe, he could figure out where he was.
“I'm positive we've passed this tree before,” Kazer was saying while pointing at a large maple tree.
“You're positively wrong,” Calix muttered. “You know how many trees are in the forest?”
“Yeah, but, it has that same blue frog on it. And it's missing bark in the same places!”
“Do you know how many frogs are In the forest? And most of the trees are missing bark in some places.”
Vandon finally spoke up. “No, he's right Calix.”
“Aha!” Kazer shouted triumphantly.
“Whatever,” Calix grumbled.
“Hey, Vandon,” Kazer began. “Do you think The Trilogy will get free or do you think we got them for good?”
Questions. So many questions and no answers. Vandon sighed. “I'm not sure, Kazer.”
A gray cloud of smoke appeared and then disappeared in front of Vandon and all three stopped.
Now he was sure. Sure that they were out.
“Aha ha ha ha ha!” It was definitely Kirae.
Basia appeared in a puff of smoke in front of Kazer and unsheathed her claws. Kazer stumbled back into a tree and stared at her, absolutely horrified. She twitched her tail, mildly irritated by the fact that someone was actually afraid of her.
Calix rolled up his sleeve and gave the sky a demented grin. “Come on, Kirae, come out and play!”
“So, we meet again, Vandon.” Sarika's voice came from the tree above him.
Vandon didn't say anything. He couldn't begin to imagine how they had gotten free. Matthias wouldn't--or would he?
A loud roar from the sky caught his attention and he looked up. Razel, Silver's Dragon, came crashing through the trees to the ground. Then there were two quick puffs of smoke next to him and Kirae laughed. He slid a hand in his pocket.
Empty.
“Looking for something?” Kirae laughed.
Razel turned her head in Kirae's direction and let loose a shot of silver goop.
“Dragon!” Kirae screeched. “Run!”
Was it even possible that she hadn't noticed Razel before?
Basia turned towards Razel, gasped, and vanished in a cloud of smoke.
“We'll see you later, Vandon.” Sarika purred.
Then they were gone.
Razel struggled to her feet, knocking trees over as she did. Her eyes met Calix's and they both froze.
“Oh no,” Vandon whispered.
To Calix, he was alone with Razel. She growled at him and snapped her jaws. His gaze drifted to her teeth and he swallowed. This was it. He was sure of it. Did he want it to be quick and painless, or slow and heroic? Forget heroic. If you die doing something stupid like that, you're no hero. She took a step towards him and growled louder. He wanted to burn a hole right through her heart, but that wouldn't work. Her scales were too thick.
She stopped suddenly and looked to the south. Silver must have been calling her. She glared at him one last time and then turned and flew away.
“Whoa,” Kazer whispered.
“That was close,” Vandon agreed.
Kazer glanced at Calix. “Calix, come on, let's go.”
“Leave him, Kazer,” Vandon said softly. “He's still alone.”
Sitting on a stump next to Calix, Kazer sighed and put his head in his hands. “How do we find this place anyways?”
Before Vandon could answer they heard the echo of a scream from the east.
Vandon and Kazer looked at each other.
“We've found it,” Vandon said.
*
Vandon & Vaxy:
Vaxy was in Dimita looking for a new job. Healing was painfully boring, but it was all that she could do. Why not try every job that she ran into until she found something that she could do that she actually liked? The first job had been one with Mr. H, and a barnful of horses. Nope. Horses were not for her. Second had been sewing with Miss A. Too boring. Now she was looking for a bakery. There had to be at least one In the city, but she'd been looking for a day and half and still hadn't found anything. She didn't bother asking anyone. Who would help anyways? Nobody ever helped with anything.
But today she found it. The bakery. It didn't have a name yet and it was hiring! With that, she began phase one of her job-hunt. Observe. She slipped in the building, which was on the corner of a street and therefore very small, and slid into a chair in the corner. There was one person behind the counter. He looked kind of bored. She was about to cross baking off her list, since it seemed boring even to the people who did it, when someone came in and walked up to the counter. The man behind the counter brightened up immediately.
Vaxy narrowed her eyes. Was this fake happiness? Was he just looking happy so that the customer wouldn't be scared away? She completely forget about observing and changed into her 'spy' mode.
“Good morning, Mr. C!” the man behind the counter said cheerfully.
“Good morning, Mrkos,” Mr. C replied. “You look tired,”
Mrkos shrugged. “Long night,”
Long night? That was his excuse? Vaxy decided that he probably killed people at night. That seemed to fit him. He was the kind of guy who could get away with it. He looked perfectly innocent. But he wasn't! He was a murderer! She would uncover the hidden clue and reveal his dark secret before the entire city! But she had to admit, he had pretty eyes.
“I know what you mean. If I had to sleep in a tent I would have a tough time, too.” Mr. C said. “I'm sorry you can't stay inside the house, but we don't really have room indoors.”
“Oh no, it's fine. As long as I can still camp out in a tent in the middle of a sandy lawn, I'll be happy.”
Camping out in a tent? Vaxy wanted to smack someone. There were all these people and all these houses and they let a murderer sleep in a tent on their lawn?
“Well, I think I might get something today.” Mr. C continued.
“What would you like?” Mrkos perked up.
“Mrs. C's birthday is coming up soon and she has a thing for—cake.”
Mrkos smiled. “I can handle that. Anything special?”
Mr. C hesitated. “Surprise me!” he said with a big smile.
“Alright, when do you need it?”
“Tomorrow at three.”
“Will do. See you then.”
“Thank you, Mrkos. Have a nice day.”
“You too, Mr. C,”
Vaxy sat in the corner for most of the day, watching Mrkos' reaction to every new customer he got. He seemed genuinely happy. How could a murderer be that heartless? Wouldn't he be depressed and feel guilty after committing his terrible crime? She finally decided to leave when he walked out from behind the counter and towards the door. She decided that if he left she would follow him. She dropped out of her chair and under a table when he walked past. Instead of leaving, he locked the door and then went back behind the counter. He disappeared through a back door and Vaxy crawled out from under the table. She had to be careful. This murderer would be hard to get around. Suddenly she heard a moan and a dull thud.
He killed someone in the back room! She cleared the counter and kicked the door open. Instead of a dead body and a fleeing suspect, Mrkos was lying on the floor in front of her. She tapped his arm gently with her foot. He was either dead himself or unconscious. She got down on one knee and shook him by the shoulder. He muttered something but didn't show any signs of waking up.
She came to the immediate conclusion that he had been feeling guilty all day long and had been planning on committing suicide after everyone had left. She tied him up with some rope that she always carried with her, in case her patients were stubborn—or dangerous—and healed him. He wouldn't wake up for a while, and he would be very weak when he did since he was completely out of energy, but she would question him ruthlessly until he gave in and confessed.
And then she noticed the mess around her. Nothing was where it should have been. Nothing was with whatever it should have been with. And then she felt the urge, that same old urge that grew in her every so often—and she began cleaning.
Cont.:
Mrkos moaned and rolled over. To his surprise he was lying on the floor in the back of his bakery, and he couldn't remember how he got there for the life of him. He tried to sit up and quickly realized that his hands were tied behind his back and he was gagged. He shook his head, wondering if things could get any stranger, when he suddenly noticed that the back room was spotlessly clean. Everything was organized by use and alphabetical order, except for the frosting which was organized by color. All the pots and pans were hanging on nails on the wall, sparkling clean and the floor smelled like lemons. He tried to slide his hands out of the rope they were tied up in, but found that it was tied impossibly tight and that there was no way he could get it off. He was just about to start worrying that maybe someone knew who he really was and was going to kidnap him, when he stopped and looked around himself again, wondering. What kind of kidnapper cleaned like this? No, this wasn't a kidnapper. But if that was the case, who was it? And what were they doing? And why had they tied him up? He heard the bell on the front door ring and gasped. He was supposed to be making a cake today. He hoped that it wasn't Mr. C as he squirmed around until he could sit up against the wall.
“Oh, hello. I don't think I've seen you around here before.” it sounded like Mr. J, he thought. “Where's Mrkos?”
“Hmm, funny thing that, really.” a female voice replied. “He isn't feeling too good, so I'm in for him today.”
Mrkos' eyes widened and he sat up a little straighter. This voice didn't really sound familiar. Who was it?
“Oh, well, are you his girlfriend or something?” Mr. J asked.
“Me? No! I don't really know him that well, actually. But that doesn't change the circumstances. Is there something you'd like?”
“Yes, please. I was wondering if you could make me a cake. A small one. There is no special occasion, I just want a cake.”
“I think I can do that. Come back in two hours and it will be ready.”
“Well, thank you very much young lady. Are you in Dimita to stay?”
“I just came here on vacation, but I'm thinking about staying.”
“I'm sure that you'd have a wonderful time if you moved here. Where are you from?”
“Centri Avile,”
Mrkos just about choked on air through the gag in his mouth. Centri Avile? He began to worry again.
“Centri Avile? Not sure that I know of that place. The name rings a bell, but only a small one.”
“I guess not too many people know of it. Oh well. I gotta start on your cake, so you need to leave.”
Mr, J laughed. “Alright, then. I'll see you later, Miss?”
“Vaxy.”
Mrkos looked at the door quickly. Vaxy?
“Well, then, until we meet again Miss Vaxy,”
“Yep,” she said unenthusiastically.
The bell on the door rang again as Mr. J left the store and Mrkos took a deep breath. Vaxy. What was she doing in Dimita? And why was she trying to work in a bakery? She was a healer for goodness' sake!
The door to the back room opened and she walked in. She stopped when she noticed him sitting up. She walked over to him and knelt down beside him, eying him suspiciously.
“I know what you did,” she whispered.
He gave her a blank stare.
“You might be a good actor, but I'm not an idiot. I know what you did, Mister, and I'm watching you.”
He blinked.
She took off the gag and glared at him. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself?”
He coughed. “What are you talking about? I run the bakery, that's what I do. That's all I do. I—can't do anything else.” he hesitated before finishing the sentence. So that was how he ended up in the back room. He had tried using his Trio powers again. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
“Oh, you act so innocent by I can see past it all. You felt guilty so you tried to commit suicide. You tried to get out the easy way, but I'm not letting you go that easily.”
“Excuse me?” he stared at her. “I swear I don't know what you're talking about.”
She leaned right up next to him and popped a bubble in his face, “I'm watching you,” she repeated darkly.
He shook his head in disbelief. “What are you doing? I have to work today! Let me go, please.”
“Please?” she gave him a puzzled look. “You have nice manners for a criminal.”
“A—criminal?” he squirmed uncomfortably. “Is it a crime to bake cakes around here? If so, somebody should have told me before I opened a bakery.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh please. We both know what I mean.”
“Both? What, did you bring a friend or something? I don't know what you're talking about!”
“Oh, yes, you do.”
He shook his head and looked at her with wide eyes. “I don't! I need to bake a cake, so please untie me!”
“I can bake your cake, just cool it.”
“So—you're planning on working for me and holding me hostage at the same time?”
“Yep. Until you confess.”
“Confess what?”
She threw her hands in the air. “Here we go again!”
“How do you know anything about baking, anyways? Aren't you a healer?”
She stopped and narrowed her eyes. “How did you know that?”
“I—uh—recognize you from Centri Avile. I went there once a while ago. You know, visiting some distant relatives.”
“Distant relatives?” he could tell she didn't believe him. “What were their names?”
Crud. He couldn't really remember anyone's names. “Father Rock. He's my—um”
“Your?”
“Great-great-great uncle.”
“Uncle? Father Rock doesn't have any siblings.”
“Well, Godfather actually. I'm one of his cousin's kids.”
She still didn't seem to believe him. “Whatever. You're still a criminal and I'm not untying you. I'm going to go bake a cake or two. Have a nice day—and you better not try suicide again. Since I'm a healer you'd have to be really good at that, or I could bring you back.”
He watched her walk back through door and then sighed. So it really was Vaxy, and now he was her prisoner for a crime that he didn't commit. Unless it was attempting suicide. But he hadn't been trying that, either. He was just being an idiot. At least he knew why the store was so clean. Vaxy had always be a little obsessive-compulsive. He remained in that same spot for the rest of the day. He was surprised that she ran the store as well as she did. He would never guess that she could bake anything, let alone some of the orders that came in that day. But by the time that Mr. C and Mr. J both got back, she had their special-orders done and ready to go. Sure, she did charge them a little too much but neither of them seemed to notice. Mrkos made a mental note to remind himself to hire her, if she ever let him go and quit accusing him of things he didn't even know about. Finally, she closed the store and then came in the back room.
“That was so fun!” she exclaimed. “I can't believe I actually figured it out.”
“Figured it out?” Mrkos dared to ask.
“Yeah, you were right. I know absolutely zip about baking, so the first few orders were actually just test runs and all that. But after about four or five I think I got it.”
Four or five? He shook his head and smiled. That was Vaxy for you. Using real people as test subjects. He was just glad that Mr. J and Mr. C had been the sixth and seventh orders that she completed.
“What are you smiling about?” she demanded and he realized that she was still watching him suspiciously.
“I was thinking, maybe,” he started slowly. “If you ever needed a job if you decide to move here maybe I could hire you.”
“Why would I work for a criminal?”
“You did today,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, but that was just for fun.” she said quickly. “I mean actually working for one for a long time.”
“Look,” he said quietly. “I might not know you that well and it probably looks like I'm lying, but I really don't know what you're talking about. I've only been here a little while. If anything I broke a law that I didn't know existed because I've never lived here.”
She watched him a for a few minutes and he just sat there, trying not to look her in the eyes since she would most likely take that as a threat.
“How do I know you aren't just saying that?” she demanded.
“You don't,”
“Then why should I listen to you?”
“I didn't say you had to. I was just telling you the truth.”
“Where I come from nobody tells the truth.”
“Maybe they don't, but that's Centri Avile. Who wants to know the truth about anything in Centri Avile?”
He saw a trace of a smile hiding behind her scowl and just about laughed. She was just as good at acting as he was.
“Nobody,” she said slowly.
“Exactly. Here people like to know it. In Nellade people like to know it. In Coval people like to know it. They probably did in Vascrede, too.”
“Where are you from?”
“Nellade, actually. Well, I was born in Coval but I grew up in Nellade.”
“Hmm,” she didn't really seem that interested, but why would she ask if she wasn't?
“You got a family?”
“No, actually.” he said. “My mother died and I don't know where my father is. No, Father Rock is not my Godfather so no, that's not why I was in Centri Avile.”
“I knew it!” she exclaimed suddenly.
“And—I have a half brother. But I don't know where he is either.”
“For Lexali's sake, you need to keep track of your few relatives.”
He laughed dryly. “I suppose I do.”
“So, if you weren't visiting family in Centri Avile, what were you doing there?”
He took a deep breath and hesitated. He wasn't sure that he could tell her. He didn't even know her that well, but she wanted the truth.
“Can you keep a secret?” he asked.
“Sure, who would I have to tell anyways?”
“I don't know.”
“Who do I have who's worth telling anything to?”
“No idea...”
“So, you were saying?”
“Alright, you ever heard of that group The Trio?”
“Oh, the fire people who run around with swords and act like dingbats?”
He laughed. “Yeah, that's them.”
“Yep, I know them. Or I've heard of them. Whatever your question was, yeah I do or I have or...Yeah.”
“I was one of them,” he said quickly. Then he looked up at her waiting to see her response.
“So you're the dead one?”
“What? Oh, they think I'm dead. Yeah, I'm the dead one.”
She laughed. “You don't look dead to me.”
He sighed. “I have to stay dead, though. I can't let them know that I'm alive.”
She smiled dementedly. “'Cause you gotta stay undercover like a secret agent so that the big bad guys think you're dead when you actually aren't so when everything is going wrong and the good guys are all just about to lose you can run in and save the day and nobody will be expecting it?” she stopped to breath.
He grinned and shook his head. “No, as much as I would like to do that I can't. That's why I work in a bakery.”
“Because you can't do your little fiery thingamajig?”
“Exactly,”
She made a face. “Eh, whatever! You don't need to be able to blast people with burning marshmallows to win a fight. Just sharpen a spatula and go kick their butts.”
“I'm not strong enough to do that. That's why I knocked myself out last night.” he laughed.
Her eyes widened. “You tried to commit suicide just because you aren't as strong as you used to be?”
“No!” he said quickly. “I used too much energy last night and it knocked me out.”
“I thought you said you knocked yourself out.”
“I did. Because I used too much energy.”
“You need to get a bigger energy bank. Or you need to find a way to take out a bunch of loans without going completely broke.”
“That would be impossible now.”
“Says who?”
“Twenty.”
“And—how is a number going to decide your fate?”
“Twenty is a healer, actually.”
“A healer? Well to heck with them! I'll give them the what for! Where are they?”
He laughed again. “Whoa, easy there. I don't know where Twenty is, but I don't need to know. Neither do you.”
“Well, I have a plan that will get your energy up so I can prove this number wrong.”
“And what might that be?” he asked nervously.
“You keep taking out loans. Big loans, from your energy bank. I'll bring you back every time you just about die. Sooner or later, you'll get used to it.”
“Well,” he said uncertainly. “Sounds a bit risky, doesn't it?”
She crossed her arms and glared at him. “You think I'm that bad? Healing people who are almost dead is what I was born to do!”
“Wonderful,” he murmured. “Alright, we can try your little plan. Only under two conditions, though.”
“Which would be?”
“I'm going to need help running the bakery...”
“What for? You got me. You don't need any help.”
He grinned. “Alright, that takes care of one problem.”
“What was your other 'condition'?”
“Can you please untie me?”