However, now was not the time to dwell on such matters. He had to find Blink. The other pirates - and they had to be pirates - would already be either running back to the ship or dead. Blink, on the other hand... Siderial had to be sure. It might be an illogical or stupid thing to do, but he had to make sure that the ship had a captain.
So far, though, the streets were full of looters and the dead, with no sign of anyone who might be a crewman or Blink. Siderial was curious as to what could have caused such a riot, but neither was that important. Finding Blink should be the only thing on his mind.
Gliding lower to get a better look, he cruised along the street that held the bar where he had met Blink. It was a gutted ruin now, heartily ablaze, but there was someone moving nearby. The height, the build, the movements... a high chance of it being the missing Metamorph. Siderial kicked his heels and dove down sharply, head first, rolling at the last minute and landing gently on one foot.
"Blink?" Siderial called out to the wavering flames. It was harder to make out the figure through the fire, but he could still see the hazy silhouette. "Blink, is that you?"
"Why, no, sir," said a voice, eerily jolting Siderial's memory, "I do not believe I am... Blink."
The fire parted, quite literally, and a figure clad in black stepped out. It was definitely not Blink. He was so pale he verged upon snow white, but his eyes were as red as blood-soaked roses. His hair, raven black and short, was slicked back so it hugged his scalp. He wore a one-piece black suit that verged upon skin-tight, which was rather unpleasant considering how thin he was. Loosely covering his sparse frame was a long red coat, trimmed with black flames and with a small black skull on each shoulder. In one hand he held a long staff, seemingly more metal than wood, that was pointed at Siderial's chest.
"No, not... Blink," the stranger said, smiling a death's head. Siderial frowned and kept his thumbs resting on his rayguns.
"I remember you," he said slowly, the memories flooding back as he spoke. "I remember your name, though I won't speak such filth, and I remember you are a coward."
"Such strong words for such a young flitling," sad the necromancer, still grinning, "and we've never even met! But very well, if you do not want to speak my name, I shall say it for you: Vorschaefan, Angelito Vorschaefan. Captain Angelito Vorschaefan, now, I should say. I got myself a ship."
"You mean you crept on board, murdered the crew as they slept and raised them as your undead slaves?" Siderial spat, his hands moving towards his guns. Vorschaefan just laughed, showing he had blood all over his teeth and in his mouth.
"You know me so well, for someone I've never met," he chuckled, the blood in his mouth spilling out over his chin. "Perhaps I fought your father? Or your mother? Or a grandparent? Great-grandparent? Doesn't matter. Obviously I should have killed them if I'd known they'd spread stories about me. Well, if you remember me, do you remember Antonio?"
Actually through the flames, not parting them this time, came a bigger shadow. Whereas Angelito was thin and short, Antonio was approaching eight feet in height and almost four feet broad at the shoulders. He was built like a rhino, and possibly had the brain capacity to match. His hair was long and matted, twisted around human bones in the style known as "deadlocks" - a long, filthy ponytail was entwined around an entire human arm. His clothes, in contrast to those of Angelito, were ragged, loose and torn, but still black. His brother's face, at least, could show a range of nasty emotions, but Antonio's seemed set on one: anger. Siderial gripped his guns in anticipation of the situation turning bad. Angelito jabbed his staff at him and wagged his finger.
"Uh-uh! Keep those hands where I can see them, elfin boy," he snarled, his voice now harsh with menace. "I don't know who you think you are, going for guns over a sword, but either way I don't want you to make this conversation take a turn for the worse. Antonio!"
"Yes, Angelito?" The giant man's voice was thunder compared to his brother's light trill. He had turned his head the moment his brother had spoken, but his eyes were still on Siderial.
"Since our friend here is no human, he leaves no corpse when he dies. Considering we attacked this place so we could start our new pirate fleet, it would be silly of us to not kill him just because he will be of no use to us," replied the elder Vorschaefan brother calmly. He smiled at Siderial and lowered his staff.
A moment passed, and Angelito looked up at his brother with a look of exasperation on his face. "That means kill him, brother. KILL HIM!"
"Yes, Angelito," replied Antonio. He flexed his tree-trunk arms and opened his gaping mouth. He had eight canines - four on each row - and these slid out to form giant fangs. Arms raised, teeth out, he took a step forward.
"Incompetent!" Angelito struck his brother's side with his staff. "It's a faery! They don't have blood!"
"Yes, Angelito." Siderial wondered if it was the only thing the vampire brute knew how to say. He wasn't, however, prepared for the giant reaching round his back and pulling out a staff as tall as Siderial was. Antonio grinned a sharp, vampiric grin.
"Yes, faery, I can do magic," he said, levelling his staff at Siderial with both colossal hands. His brother laughed and smiled.
"You think my brother is stupid just because he's large? My, my, and I would have thought that perhaps today someone wouldn't have fallen for our trick." Angelito shook his head. "Ah, well, perhaps tomorrow. Antonio, I shall meet you in the boneyards. Try to keep things short, blunt and messy."
"Yes, Angelito," said Antonio, his voice with a nasty twist to it this time. He shifted his grip on his necromantic staff. "I don't think I've killed nearly enough sprites in my time."
Siderial took a step back, raised his hands, and vanished.