Miller and Samson listened to the whole story from Ayla’s perspective. How she became a guide for the second Prince due to her position at the Academy and happened to save the first prince. How she killed many assassins in the process of protecting him. She continued on about how she came into the First Prince’s service, only to change her mind after graduation due to doubts about her path. That was the story.They took it all in, exchanged a short glance, then smiled at her. Samson was the first to speak.
“Sorry. I was wrong for scolding you.” He admitted. Miller, on the other side, was all smiles, like he had been vindicated. Ayla’s heart began to beat quickly. She felt disappointed that she was going to get away with it with just a few well-placed words. It didn’t make much sense to her. It was not as if she wanted to be caught, but she was being praised and it made her uncomfortable with all she knew about herself, her past and her all too real present.
`This feels wrong for some reason.` She frowned and stared at Samson. He was surprised to see her expression. It was the look of someone that dropped their ice-cream,
“Why?” I killed-” The words caught in her throat.
“-a lot of people. So many. Why are you wrong?” Without really saying anything about it she was litigating her crimes. With the shield of the many assassins she killed Ayla could ask pointed questions that would have aroused suspicion otherwise.
“Sounds like it was your duty and you’ve tormented yourself a lot over it.” He stated frankly.
Miller chimed in. “We’re Castezinan but we’re still Imperial Citizens. If someone attacks our people we’ll naturally want the right thing to be done.” He was about to place a hand on her shoulder. Ayla stepped back, shrugging it off. She backed against the wall like a cornered animal. She could not put her finger on it until now, but she understood quickly that it annoyed her. She had gotten used to the scrutiny the same way she had gotten used to following Caelin’s orders in her past life.
“Uhm…” Miller was obviously as confused as Samson.
“Like Ryan said, you’re obviously torn up about it.”
“What if I’m not?” She uttered.
“Eh?” Miller cocked his head to one side. Samson looked a bit more contemplative.
“I don’t feel bad that I killed all those-” She consciously stopped herself from using the wrong words, the ones that could expose her.
“-mercenaries. I don’t feel one way or the other about it. That’s not normal.” She was staring at Samson as she said that, since he was the most likely to say something. Ayla felt uneasy when the tension lifted with just a sigh from Samson. “Well, yeah. I guess that’s just what they call training.” He explained evenly. The Knight looked very careful about not downplaying what she was saying, but she could not help but think that she had failed.
“I killed someone.” Samson admitted.
“What was it like for you? The first one.” Ayla asked quickly.
“First and last. It was shit. But if I didn’t kill him he could’ve killed one of our people, so I had to do it.” He looked up in thought, averting his gaze from the two of them.
“Actually… When I got home I was worried.”
“You were worried about what?” Ayla stared at him like he was an alien. Samson’s feelings, thoughts and his reasoning were so interesting to her. If they were something she could emulate and copy, she could for all intents and purposes change and become a new and better person in everyone else's eyes.
“I thought my Dad would throw me a party. Slap me on the back. Congratulate me. I was so afraid that I stayed out all night and got piss drunk and stumbled in after everyone should’ve been asleep. Should’ve.” His lips moved very subtly at the corners. Not a smile, but a quiver. “Candle was lit in the kitchen. Everyone else was asleep but my Dad was there with a pot of warm water.” Samson nodded to himself, sounding and acting like he was recalling the words as they were being spoken, or he was just that hesitant to share..
“It wasn’t even tea. It was just warm water and without saying anything he poured me a cup and he looked at me and I could see that he knew what I was thinking, and what I was afraid of.” Samson was emoting very little during the story. In fact, it looked as if he was keeping very still, though the muscles in his forehead were strained. Ayla was rapt by the performance. She leaned close, taking in every detail of his expression and tone.
“I stood there with him, drinking my glass in silence and just breathing and thinking. I was worried about all the things I’d hear from him. Son it’s alright. Son he had it coming. Son it was him or you. He never said a thing. When I was alone with my thoughts I reasoned it all out and drank warm water with my dad there watching me like a stone gargoyle. My stomach started to settle down as the arguments in my head died down and I finally came to a conclusion.” He looked up, smiling subtly.
“What was that?” Ayla asked attentively. Miller was looking at Samsom with a very steady, unbroken stare. The mood was serious, even if Samson was trying to not let it be like that.
“ I didn’t want to hear any of that because I didn’t want to get used to it. I thought that thinking about it was a good thing. Forgetting about what I thought about was a bad thing” Samson tapped his head lightly.
“Next time I won't get broken up about it, but I won't get numb to it. The balancing act between a trained soldier and a trained murderer is somewhere in those lines.” He gave a shrug.
“I would do it again for the same reasons. Maybe next time it won't feel so bad. Point is, it’s normal to get broken up over it. Nobody feels exactly the same but everyone feels similar. It’s human, so don’t worry too much. It’s maybe a little late but if you need it we can skip getting piss drunk and I’ll heat up some water for you back at my place so you can think.” Ayla’s heart was beating out of her chest. She stared down, eyes wide. She breathed quickly, in and out, but it was not getting any better.
“Ayla?” Samson asked, his fading out as if she was under water and he was looking down at her from above.
In her mind she was a young girl with her Master over her shoulder, staring down at an unmarked grave just outside of town. Patting her on her back. Congratulations. Congratulations. He had it coming. Now you get to go to the academy. It’s always you versus them. The ground shifted and she felt a sense of vertigo. Each second a scene shift with a different blood splatter. A different kill. Never feeling. Never stopping. Never thinking. Not from the first-
“Ayla!” Samson shouted, shaking her. She looked up and felt faint as a thin red line appeared on Samson’s neck. -and not from the last. Ayla recoiled in terror.
She shut her eyes tightly, holding her head in her hands. A single thought dominated her mind.
`Human? Knight? Trained murderer… Human… It is human. Is it human? Am I human? Am- am I even human!?` The words reverberated in her mind over and over again like an orchestra until she finally opened her eyes and it all stopped. They were both close. Miller on her left and Samson in front of her, his hands on her shoulders. She looked at their necks, then back to them. No familiar lines or blood splatters. Miller looked worried.
“Ayla, are you okay? You looked like you were-”
Ayla adopted a doll-like smile. It was a shield. For all that she fished for, she no longer wanted to be scrutinised.
“I’m fine.” She turned her attention to Samson.
“Could you let go?”
He lifted his hands off her shoulders and stepped back, staring at her unnatural expression. “Uh, yeah. Sorry.”
“The talk helped.” She lied.
There was a long pause with Samson’s brow furrowing until finally he tried to speak. “Hey-” He stopped. They all turned, hearing boots on the cobble outside the alleyway. Samson boomed.
“I swear to Sol if you were listening I-”
Grayson scratched his head. “What? I just got back. I thought I should tell you, the tavern’s basically a no-go.”
“They run out of booze?” Miller questioned.
“As if.” Grayson rolled his eyes.
“Ran out of hands, because Hans ran out. Guy hasn’t been seen at work since we last saw him. The place is a mess.”
“What?” Ayla choked out hoarsely. The facade fell. They all shifted to looking at her. There was an obvious hint of unfamiliar distress in her tone. She began moving immediately, hand on her sword.
`I have to find him. I-` She glanced over to see Miller and Samson staring at her questioningly. She stared ahead at the entrance to the alley and was about to continue but she could not allow herself to. She froze uncomfortably, then walked back.
“Miller, Samson.”
They both saw the seriousness in her expression. Miller spoke. “What's wrong?”
“Hans is gone. Has been gone for a few days.”
“Yeah? It's rough but-”
Ayla clenched her fist tight. It was hard to explain. There were still things she wanted to remain unsaid.
“I know something that makes me more worried about him going missing. I have to give it extra consideration but I can't explain why.” She explained hesitantly, knowing it would not be enough. For added consideration she offered:
“I was about to leave and look for him without saying anything, but then I remembered what you said when I was sick and I thought about how you would feel if something happened. So this is me saying something.” Miller stared at her blankly. Ayla turned towards the end of the alleyway again during his pause. She felt free to move once she said her piece.
`They have no reason to care. I just needed to tell him so that he doesn’t have a reason to be upset with me again. There’s no way they’ll go out of their way to help me when I can't even-`
“Sounds really important. We better go with you.” Miller said suddenly. Ayla stopped at the end of the alleyway. As he was walking forward he looked at Samson with a smile.
“You aren’t too tired if it’s past your bedtime, are you?”
The man walked forward, trailing a bit behind Miller. “Have you used the bathroom yet? I’m afraid you might shit your pants.”
Ayla smiled weakly. “Thank you both.”
Samson looked at her face and let out a small, amused huff at her regarding that smile far differently than her last. He acknowledged it.
“This is also part of the job. Grayson, go send up the report that we’re performing an investigation.” Samson barked.
Miller moved to Ayla’s side and asked: “Are there any more details? What can you tell us?”
Ayla shut her eyes tight. `Think.` She opened them after just a moment’s thought.
“Hans is someone that doesn’t want to leave the city for any reason. He doesn’t just dislike the idea, he’s afraid of it. Has he ever missed a day?” She knew there was a chance the answer would not help her argument, but she asked anyway.
Miller and Samson exchanged a questioning look. Samson shrugged, so Miller searched his memory and came up with a reasonably certain conclusion.
“Never seen him miss a day of work and I’ve never heard of him going missing for as long as we’ve been visiting the Wintergreen with him working there.”
Samson summarised while counting off on one hand. “So we have a reason he wouldn’t leave and an established set of behaviours that makes this out of the ordinary. I think that’s enough to visit his residence and check.”
Miller continued along that line of reasoning. “If he’s there, good. If he’s not-”
Ayla interjected. “He told me he’s a coward so going out at night would also be strange.”
“Sure.” Samson shrugged and looked at Ayla.
“One thing at a time. Where’s he live?”
Miller blushed. “W-why would she know that?”
Samson looked at the man in disbelief. “Now’s not the time.”
“Sorry, you’re right. I actually know where Hans lives. When I struck up a conversation with him one night he told me he was saving up to move closer to the centre of town. He didn’t like living in the tenement close to the south gate.”
Samson began walking. “I know that one. Let’s go knock on doors. We’ll find his door by asking questions. He’s got a memorable appearance so someone should know.”
“Good call!” Miller exclaimed. Ayla was stunned at how much quick mental work they were doing to help her bold assumption. She expected to have to do it all alone. She would have been capable, but she would have never had the information, background and planning that they put together in less than a minute by bouncing off one another. She thought that they were just good people with some skill, but they were also efficient
“Let's get going. Ayla?” He looked at her.
“Yes.” She nodded eagerly.
They knocked on doors and woke residents up, but it only took a few to get Hans’s door number like Samson said. Ayla and Samson walked up to the second floor of the tenement building and knocked. Ayla first, then Samson stepped forward and knocked more firmly and used his advantage as a man to project his voice.
“Hans! If you’re in there at least let us know.” He waited.
“Nothing.”
Ayla stared at the door. “I can break it down.”
“Heh. Now hold on, we don’t got a reason to do that. Just give it a minute.”
“But-” Before Ayla could argue Miller ran up, motioning them forward.
“I stayed behind to ask questions of the few people that wanted to talk and it seems like no one’s seen him going in and out for a few days.” Miller reported.
Samson nodded and to Ayla’s surprise immediately kicked the door down himself before stepping inside. Ayla followed closely.
“No smell.” He commented idly. It was a dark thought but if there was a smell and a body that was his, it would have been better than the fate that he met in her time. Better for everyone else at least. Samson misinterpreted her expression and explained: “That’s good. Means he’s not a corpse.” He paused.
“Maybe. Cold does weird things to bodies and it’s freezing. Nobody’s lived here for a few days, I can say that for sure.” Miller checked the side rooms. Ayla reached out with her senses at the same time and shook her head.
Walking through, Ayla saw definite signs that it was lived in; Food stored, plates and a candle that was half-burned. She also noted a significant lack of any mementos. No trinkets or anything to show that the person living there had any attachment to the dwelling except as a place to sleep. It was like her own living arrangements throughout the years. She opened the nightstand drawer and saw a stack of folded letters tied with string. Ayla cocked her head to one side curiously. She did not reach for them because she knew she did not have time to read them.
“Alright. We can officially be worried.” Samson announced.
“What now?” Ayla asked, pushing the drawer shut.
“There’s no hint here.”
“Nothing in the storeroom, either. Looks like he left one morning and just hasn’t been back. The lock on the door was primed when you kicked it in.” Miller added to the observation.
“Do we have anything else?”
Ayla shut her eyes again. `The last night he was seen. Before training.` She remembered him meeting her in the alleyway. Her eyes shot open.
“What is it?” Miller asked.
Ayla’s eyes moved as her head became filled with details that were just now being strung together. The silver-eyed woman appearing in the alleyway that very night before he went missing.
`He could’ve been taken that same night.` Then she remembered seeing the woman again, as it was less than an hour ago. Her pupils shook as she remembered a subtle detail.
`White hairs on an apron. The woman’s hair was pure black. She mentioned a child at home, not an elder.` Her heart beat quickly as she put it together.
`The abandoned warehouse.` Ayka relayed all that information to them
“She just told you? Why would she be honest?” Miller asked sceptically.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
“Why would she say anything? We got nothing else to go on.” Samson argued.
“A kidnapping is bigger than a disappearance. We need backup. We can’t just go in blind.” Miller advised. Ayla lowered her head, thinking that if Miller was offering a more cautious step, Samson would be in step with him, maybe even more so. She was ready to have to go alone, after all. She was surprised when Samson interjected.
“It’s part of the work. We do this because we’re strong.” He patted a satchel that he took from his hoarse. It hung from his belt and made a bit of noise as they went. Ayla was curious about it but did not mention anything about it.
“Fireworks to signal if anything goes south.”
Ayla’s eyes widened. “Fireworks! Of course. We had these?”
“I carry them since I’m the one with seniority. If one of these goes off in Castezin it’s like poking a hornet's nest. But that’s neither here nor there. Let’s go follow our only lead. The Warehouse Ayla mentioned is closer than where we’d need to go to grab backup. We check there, then we fall back if it’s a dead lead and alert everyone to start a wider search.” Samson looked at them.
“Is all that good?”
Ayla saluted and Miller both nodded. “Understood.”
After a few minutes by horse they arrived in front of the darkened entryway of a wide blackwood warehouse that sat between two solid stone structures. It was a block from the edge of town, and just a little ways away from the main road. The lamps were not lit. It was the only spot where they were out. Somson stared at the facade with Ayla. He shook his head.
“This… is a feeling.”
“I agree.” Ayla nodded, feeling the same thing he was. It was dark, but she could see. At the moment there was nothing in the shadows and nothing that screamed at her senses.
“There’s nothing around us outside, for now. The wood is thick…”
“Understood.” Samson sighed. He was about to dismount but Miller beat him to it.
“I got it. Let me.” He walked carefully up the steps. The entryway was raised on stilts three feet off the ground. This was so that the warehouse, which was actually in a rectangular stone pit underground, could get just a bit more height. The pit was a natural fridge for preserving food better year round, while the upper section was typically either used for administrative purposes or other storage of goods that could fit in crates and be stored easily in a less cool environment. The front had a downward-sloped canopy that was held up by rood pillars that extended into the ground. Miller reached the top of the steps on the far right of the deck, but the door to the inside was on the far left. It was windowless.
As he was halfway to the door the world began to shift into slow motion for Ayla. She saw cloaked bodies rounding the back of the warehouse to begin moving swiftly down the alley on the left side of the building. If she did not have keen night vision they would have been like ghosts with the way they were moving. It struck her. They were like that night so long ago. The night of the hunt.
`No way.` She glanced at Somson who was just watching Miller. His eyes lit up as the door was kicked open suddenly. The door that opened out with a hing on the right swung and a man emerged. Ayla looked and caught it as well.
“Miller move! That’s a thundergunn!” She screamed while moving her hand in front of Samson’s face to point out the movement in the alleyway. He dragged his attention away from the scene on the deck that was unfurling. His eyes rested on the alleyway, then focused and adjusted due to the lamps having been off. They widened.
It clicked. “Oh Shit!” Samson remained on his horse and began rifling through his pack.
Ayla was relieved that Samson was doing the practical thing. She turned back to Miller on the deck and saw the movement in slow motion as a man behind the front door with the thundergunn stepped out. A thundergunn was a marvel of engineering from a foreign land, even in her time. For a trained Knight, the terror of scorching lead flying into your chest at point blank range was the most unfortunate and unceremonious way to go. They were banned within the Empire but that ban was not a shield that would protect Miller from its fire. Instead, the thing that was protecting him in the moments when the man stepped out of the entryway with the gunn cocked and loaded was the door that opened out in such a peculiar way that it blocked line of sight between the assassin and Miller for just enough of an instant that Ayla could act.
She hopped up and jumped over the front of her horse while drawing her sword. Her Aura and Energy ignited together and shot through her Path like a bolt of lightning, through her hands and into her sword, surrounding it in the blue light of her Aura while her energy stretched and coiled the muscles in her sword arm.
`So long as he waits for line of sight I can-` Click. It was the terrifying release sound of a thundergunn that bounced around in her head. The gunner was aiming through the door with good enough accuracy.
`No!` She gritted her teeth, able to watch the firing pin on the back of the gunn travelling an unstoppable inch towards the striking mechanism. Something she did not take into account was Miller, who she had not been focused on the whole time. She smiled widely, seeing the door suddenly fling back into the end of the gunn due to a well-timed kick from Miller. She was not sure if it was intentional or not but many things happened at once.
First, the thundergunn ignited north of where the gunner intended to aim, sending hot shrapnel through the top of the door, halving the wood and going through the canopy, just to show what it would have done to a body behind that door. The sound was as its name-sake suggested. It was like a sudden storm had come to Castezin. As it fired, Ayla’s aura swept up in a diagonal, angling it to hit the gunner but not Miller. She watched intently as the familiar red line formed at his neck. As the gunn was pointed up, the muzzle was sheared off cleanly. As she landed on the deck she noticed the heavy blackwood frame of the canopy had also been cut through. Miller was already in front of the door so she leapt over and pushed him in before the whole thing came down, blocking the entryway. Ayla glanced back through, seeing Samson still on his horse, still in the street.
Ayla shouted through the crumbled frame of the deck. “Samson, don’t fight, get help!”
Somson found the tube in his satchel, brought it out and wordlessly thrust it towards the sky. He turned his head and held his shoulder in such a way that it blocked his ear as he pulled the string attached to the firework. There was a loud bang, followed by a screeching sound that travelled up into the air with bright orange light and smoke trailing behind. Once it rose a significant distance it popped with a loud bang, lighting up the whole block. As Samson's stubbled face was lit the men that wanted to surround him and take him off his horse saw his grave expression and paused. Some of them were looking up while others were moving to surround him.
“You guys know you fucked up, yet?”
“Don't let him get away!” One shouted.
Samson dug his heels into his horse's side and darted down the street. As he did he could see in the distance more fireworks shooting up and exploding. They fell slowly and lit up the city like it was day. It was the hornet’s nest. He felt bad for leaving, but the front was blocked so he could not reach Ayla and Miller. He knew Ayla was strong, and Miller was not weak, so if those two were together he argued in his head that they would be fine. Maybe they were better off than him. He glanced over his shoulder to see that he was not being followed.
“They gave up? Shit!” He hesitated, because it meant that they were all focusing on Ayla and Miller who were going to be surrounded. He could not bring himself to go back, as much as he wanted to, because he knew that the real best way to help them would be to show the responding party to their precise location.
Samson’s gut told him something was wrong. He returned to looking ahead of him. He instinctively pulled back the reins but it was too late. Two of the men had already got ahead of him and were gripping a wire. One of them braced on a nearby post while the other put all his weight into pulling the razorwire taught. It was too late to tell his horse to jump. They gripped tight and pulled hard, tripping the horse and taking a leg. More importantly, the trap flipped Samson off his horse and flat onto his back.
He wheezed as all the air left his lungs. His eyes were wide and bulging. The veins in his neck and forehead were standing out as he slammed his chest with his fist a few times, then rolled just in time with newfound vigour as a sword hit where he fell. The Knight rolled onto his knees and raised his arm-guard because there were two attackers that he could see and another sword was already whistling towards him horizontally. Samson sacrificed his armour and the use of his left forearm to buy more distance. What the sacrifice bought him was a chance to draw his sword in time to deflect another slash from the original attacker. He finally rose from one knee to his feet. He looked down at his arm. The guard fully fell off. Samson breathed Energy into it to stop the pain from clouding his mind.
“Fracture… Great. It wasn’t-” He stopped, moved his footing and swung his sword to keep the second man at length; they were both circling him like predators.
“Wasn’t unexpected, but I guess you guys can use Soma after all.”
“What?” One of the assailants finally spoke through his mask. Samson named him Red-Eye in his head for his eyes. Not creative, but good enough for an assassin.
“We’re veterans. You want to just lay down and avoid the pain before you die. We-” He pauses.
“I’m not a cruel fucker.”
Samson rolled his shoulder a bit to loosen up. He was continuously moving back to stop them from fully encircling him but he was running out of space and they were both faster than him, so it was only buying a little time.
“I was just thinking. I'm glad you guys are just mercs. It means neither of you are that smart. You just learned to fight a bit and now you're here thinking you can beat a Knight.”
“Bullshit!” The other man he named Timber in his head for his voice yelled, lunging at Samson from behind.
Samson smirked, sent energy into his sword-hand, and turned. He parried in an inefficient way that hit the man's sword, hard with the flat side of his own. It made an incredibly loud, cringe inducing sound that even Red-eye felt. He nodded to himself as Timber’s hands both shook from the impact. He was ready for it, so he was unaffected, but it would not work twice.
“So easy to provoke, too.” Samson taunted.
“I can read you both like a book.” He lied through his teeth.
“Weak flesh on your end, and you got a broken bone!” Timber remarked, pointing angrily with his sword.
“Stop!” Red-Eye ordered in a disciplined tone.
“Finish it quickly. He’s baiting.” The man switched his stance. The other grunted and reluctantly did the same. They were going to be fighting together again. Samson cursed to himself.
”Was hoping that would buy me a bit more…” He grumbled wearily, moving away from Red-Eye to slash at Timber again. Making distance from one while unbalancing the other was the idea but Timber backed up, which told him-
`Fast!` Samson turned suddenly and swung wildly behind him, catching Red-Eye’s sword with the same awkward hit he laid on Timber’s blade initially. As he suspected it did nothing to Red-Eye’s grip and the moment he saw the man put up a guard and back off, Samson just about turned, but his eyes swivelled down to his opponent’s feet.
“Dammit.” He grunted as Red-Eye dropped the feint and attacked anyway. It was two-fold, because the longer Samson was facing him, the more time Timber had with his back. Samson kicked at Red-Eye’s legs to get room for enough of an instant to turn and flourish his sword in a wild, wide arc. It collided with Timber’s sword in that same cringe-inducing manner. But, again, the merc was prepared for it.
“Are you stupid?” Timber asked while closing the distance menacingly. He had the upper hand. Samson was the one getting staggered by his own strange attacks, so the two men were just closing the noose around him.
“You said we weren't smart, but-” He slashed at Samson, not the least bit deterred by the counter Samson tried. His grip actually loosened. Samson spat. He knew he didn’t have long before they’d have him.
“You can't even swing a sword! They teach you that as a Knight?” Samson stepped back to avoid a horizontal slash from Timber and reached back instinctively with his fractured left hand to catch the blade that was aiming for the vulnerability in his cuirass; He sensed Red-Eye over his left shoulder but it was a complete guess, and his hand was fully messed up at that point as the merc simply pulled back, cutting all along Samson’s palm. The Knight whipped his fractured and gashed hand around, flicking blood into Timber’s eyes in the middle of his swing. Samson got under it and shoulder checked the merc back, turning again to parry Red-Eye.
“Round and round we go…” Samson uttered in complete exhaustion.
In a rare turn, Red-Eye spoke. “You fought-” Samson took the opportunity to take a sneaky shot when the man would least expect it. His red eyes shot open. His pupils were following the path of Samson’s sword without blinking which told him that he was done. Red-Eye moved and let the sword hit a part of his cloak. Samson felt armour underneath and before he could withdraw his sword Red eye trapped it against his armour with his own sword.
“-well.” Red-Eye finished his sentence calmly.
“You died to a Blood Eagle, Knight.”
“The f- Urk.” Samson’s whole body felt like his strings had been cut as Timber’s sword stabbed Samson through the back and came out the other side to where he could see it. He groaned, but still found it in him to grip the blade that had pushed through him tightly by using some of the last of his Energy. Samson kept the sword pinned in his grip, dragging Timber with him as he landed a headbutt on Red-Eye square in his nose to free his sword from the man’s trap. Timber let go of the sword, but Samson was expecting a knife to follow. There was nothing he could do if there was.
“You should’ve been a merc!” Red-Eye shouted angrily. He uncovered his nose and fully lived up to the name he was given on the fly by staring at Samson in a rage. He struck wildly and Samson used the last of his strength to slap his sword ineffectively at Red-Eye’s one last time. It made a loud clashing noise, but Samson's sword was struck from his hand by the power of the swing .He reached out to it where it fell as Red-Eye was winding up to finish him.
Samson felt the wall. He hit it hard as he tried and failed to move. “Ahh... That's probably enough.”
For good measure Timber got him from behind and held him. “Made a lot of noise!” He commented, waiting for his partner to complete his swing.
“That was the point… Idiot.” Samson chided weakly. The two mercs looked at each other.
Red-Eye turned to look in the direction of a sound that was approaching, then saw the world spin and turn upside down. For about five seconds his brain was alive enough to see his body, sword in hand, and a knight on a horse riding past with a wind in his wake. He was like a roving typhoon. It was a tall man with his blonde hair slicked back and cut short along the sides in the imperial style.
Before Eldrich could say anything Samson pointed down the road and rasped, finger shaking as he tried to keep his hand up. “Abandoned warehouse. Collapsed front. Ten to fifteen seen outside with possible Soma users among them. We need-”
Eldrich stopped him and offered a nod with a promise. “It'll be fine. Captain Rast is on his way. His Grace as well.” Samson laughed, then regretted laughing due to the pain and simply passed out.
Ayla and Miller were faced with a long corridor flanked by evenly-spaced doors. At the end there was a door at the centre of a T-junction. Ayla counted the number of doors and kept in mind that behind each there could have been more enemies. She took the first steps forward.
“None of these doors on the side open. Keep an eye on them.”
“Wait! I should lead. I got thicker skin than you.” He argued.
Ayla responded without looking back. “You can't even draw that sword in this hallway so I should lead.”
He gaped a little, grabbing the hilt of his sword. He seemed to be measuring it in his head from floor to ceiling, then wall to wall. Miller’s shoulders slumped.
“Dammit, fine.”
“Don’t take it the wrong way. It’s the only weakness. Blackwood isn’t easy to get through, either.”
They took a few steps forward. Before they could reach the first doors to their right and left and begin clearing them the door at the end opened suddenly. A large man ducked under the frame and exited out into the hall before pulling it closed behind him. The hooded man filled almost the whole hallway with how he was standing. He was like an advancing wall due to his sheer height and bulk. Ayla, with her heightened senses, was able to see past him for the brief moments the door was open. Hans was sleeping in that room on a bed with the woman she had seen before standing in front; she looked up, caught Ayla’s silver eyes with her own for just an instant and smiled. After seeing that,
The Merc walked forward, then stopped and threw his hood off. “You!” He pointed.
Ayla was able to take in his features. Her eyes widened as she regarded the familiar features of a man she knew pretty well. Angular jaw, shining bald skull and piercing bronze eyes. He had a scarred visage that made his face unmistakeable.
“Becker!? You were here?” Her mind raced. It hadn’t occurred to her at all that Becker had been present in Castezin around this time.
He placed his hand on his sword. The weapon of choice was the gladius. It always struck her as an odd choice for such a big man, but it was perfect for him in this space. She was feeling threatened.
“Who's that?” Miller asked.