While Rina and Kalvin remained fighting on the frontlines, Sylvester rushed back to the stables on the edge of town, well aware of the plan and the next steps that needed to be taken. However, due to the rampage and chaos by the courtyard, no workers were there, and the gates to the stables were locked off by a rusted metal chain.
“Shit.” Sylvester mumbled under his breath, panting from the run. He had an option of using one of his dellusive black spheres, but ruining a proper business wasn’t his way of solving issues. There was also a chance of the horses getting damaged, so it wasn’t worth the risk.
There were small cracks through the countless wooden logs holding up the stables, but even those cracks seemed far too small to crawl through, and going through the metal-gated windows was uncanny.
“How is your plan coming along?” A familiar, self-entitled voice bounced across his ears.
Sylvester jerked his head to the right, then the left, and finally, above him. To his surprise, Faibel was laying head-back across the slanted rooftops of the stables, enjoying his view of the cloudless sky and glimmering sun.
“Ah,” Sylvester crossed his arms, calming his rapid, ventilating breaths. “The Whistleblower. I am quite stunned to see you still around here. What keeps your stay inside Nirvana?” His memories rushed back in an instant.
Faibel nudged his glasses further up his nose, resting his head against the backside of his palms. “A better question would be, what keeps me away?”
Sylvester kept his expression stern, “You have a code to live by, do you not? A code you follow no matter where you go? It’s odd for me to see you on a day such as this, atop of a closed stable on the outskirts of town.”
“I’m simply observing, as I always do,” He pondered. “How could I possibly miss out on a flurry of explosions and blasts on the doorsteps of Harvoria?”
Sylvester gave his mustache a twirl, flickering his spectacle in place. “The explosions are on the other side of town. It seems to me that you’re counting pigs flying across the sky... Why are you still here, Faibel?”
Faibel sighed, pulling out a small vial of blood from his left shirt pocket. “Do you know what this is?” He asked, throwing him the vial.
Sylvester caught it, bringing it close to his eyes beneath the sunlight. “Your tongue’s blood I presume? It’s pungent and thick. Normal blood doesn’t come around this rare.”
Faibel closed his eyes, “Precisely. It is the last donation of my blood I will ever give to this world, and I am willing to hand you the honor of using it.”
“Why ever so?” Sylvester raised an eyebrow, “I have nothing to run away from. I have no one to fear. And I have nothing to lose. Explain your reasoning, Whistleblower.”
Faibel flicked his blank hair to the sides, letting the gentle autumn breeze roll over him. “Maybe for now, you are correct. You don’t have anything to fear, lose, or forget. However, you and I both know that when the time comes, a certain force of individuals will be searching for you. A group of such people who will kill if you give them the wrong eye. A group who were taught to eliminate any and all objections and violators against their sworn code. And you, my dearest bartending friend, were the leader during a previous revolution against a non-gifted king. This one as well. I’m sure you can understand what position that leaves you in.”
Sylvester’s lips came to a thin line, his brows dropping right after. “Why me?” He said in a deep, hard voice. “Everyone else is there too, fighting, risking their lives. Why should I be the one who runs away and leave the world behind in a trail of dust and smoke?”
“Because,” Faibel turned his head towards him, briskly. “You are a good man. You have a life to live. But you are also a man—like you said—who has nothing to lose.” He paused, shifting his gaze to the endless sky again. “Rina, Paris, Kalvin, and the wolf, they all have something precious to them they wouldn’t be able to live without. It keeps them secure, giving them an abundance of gratitude and hope. As fragile and shameless it may sound, there is nothing an enemy can steal from you that will depress you. You are a man, with nothing, and a chance to start over.”
Sylvester took a step back, rattled and confused. The vial tightened in his grasp, and he shoved it in his pocket. “What about Cairo? He has nothing to lose as well. I can confirm that, my deception never lies to me.”
Faibel curled a soft smile, “I’m afraid that you are furthest from the truth. As though it may seem, Cairo is a walking corpse with a worthless, torn piece of paper guiding him forward. However, after observing him all this time, I can safely say that he has the most to lose out of all of us. Cairo dwells his life with everything to lose, and nothing to gain except for… Well, I’m sure you know.”
Sylvester snatched the vial out of his pocket, hesitated for a moment, then tossed it back at Faibel. “Even if I have nothing to lose, I’ve committed to my doings, and I will not be the man to back down from my actions.”
“You are aware of what this group consists of, yes?”
Thinking back to when he stared inside of Leonidas’s gaze, Sylvester gritted his teeth at the answer. “I know… I know all too well about those monsters, demons rather. What they did… What they can do… I am only buying time, and once that’s done with, I will flee from this country, along with everyone fighting alongside me.”
“Fleeing from this country will not do you any good. They’ll find you, no matter how far you run.” Faibel rolled and slid off the edge in a fancy manner, landing on the ground with hands in his pockets, barely breaking his perfect posture. “Do as you please. For as I, am only a giver of information. My intel is a double-edge sword, just like the vial I offered. It could serve you right, or it can stab you in the back when you least expect it to.”
Sylvester stretched out his hand towards Faibel, gesturing for him to give it back. “I have chosen. The vial is my final answer.”
Fiabel placed the vial in his hand, and Sylvester dropped it on the stone road below him, watching as it shattered into pieces. Faibel smiled, “Smart choice, Sylvester.”
“I don’t need the world to forget me. If my sins find me, then so be it,” said Sylvester, his eyes on Faibel’s lenses. “I’ve ran away far enough, and I’ve hid for far too long. My consequences will prove my decision.”
Fiabel smiled, walking off, and tossing a small bronze key at Sylvester’s steps. “Very well. I do hope you don’t regret your actions,” he stepped into the puddle of blood from the vial, splashing his shoes. “Be cautious. No matter where you go, the Assassins of Saino will find you. Just like last time.” Waving goodbye, Faibel promenaded off, disappearing inside an alley, leaving no trace behind.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Sylvester grabbed the bronze key off the ground, clenched it tightly, and sighed. “I hope so too... I hope so too.”
Fidgeting the bronze key into a small iron lock on the chains, Sylvester pushed the front gates open, and made his way to the back of the stables. Bonnie’s neck arched gracefully the second Sylvester stepped in, her hair rolling off the edge of her neck like a waterfall.
“There’s my girl,” grinned Sylvester, his steps ruffling past the dry hay bales below him. “How is my favorite girl doing? Did they treat you well?”
Bonnie rattled her hooves and whinnied excitingly, stomping the ground and licking his hand. Klyde was in the stable next to hers, but his excitement wasn’t equated.
After grabbing their leads and heading out of the stable, Sylvester grappled himself over the mare, reassured Klyde was close behind, and raced off to the courtyard. The wind guided him smoothly, and the sounds of hooves against stone sang diligently to his ears.
…
Fighting through the countless waves of water and smoke, the remainder of the guards at the courtyard were getting wiped and tossed like loose cloths. No spear or sword could reach Rina, and if any actions were taken against her, Kalvin would be there to stop it. They were unstoppable. However, their energy and willpower wasn’t endless, and their main battle fought against time itself.
Citizens fled from the courtyard long ago, but glares from crowded rooftops and opened windows didn’t cease for even a second. Most of the men that swore their loyalty to the king grabbed pitchforks and sharp house tools, but as they saw Rina’s devastation with a single swipe of her hand, their tools dropped along with their bravery.
Panting and winded from using all her energy, Rina unleashed her final wave of destruction. Gallons upon gallons of water began emerging from thin air, rising, engulfing the courtyard like a thunderstorm. With the smoke lingering throughout the dusty earth, it seemed as if a cloud of darkness was grumbling in the midst of an ocean storm.
Holding her breath, Rina clasped her hands together, crashing the massive wave of fuming water against the remaining guards blocking their path.
Wagons and windows shattered at the crash site. Dust and smoke was swept clean, disappearing into the sky. Empty faces and horror-struck children ducked beneath any cover they could, and parts of short rooftops became a zoo for roaring waves. All the guards’ bodies were taken by the drift, being littered throughout the courtyard, unconsciously.
Rina dropped to her knee, panting deeply, her face preoccupied with monotony. The air began to clear, along with the water, and the path to the Castle gates cleared any and all obstacles.
“Rin!” Kalvin hustled over to her, wiping dust off his forehead and nearly slipping across the puddles that remained. “Are you—”
“Im fine!” She pushed him off, her throat clogged with thick air.
Kalvin backed off, worried, afraid. His face grimmed, and the sounds of rushing hooves averted his gaze elsewhere before he had any time to respond. Still, Kalvin glanced at Rina one more time, feeling his heart knotting in his mouth. Compassion and honesty disappeared from the ripples in his hazel eyes, replaced by a sudden onslaught of momentary concern and drought.
Sylvester gave Bonnie a light tug, slowing her down and coming to a halt beside Kalvin. Klyde followed the commands, his legs jittering eagerly for another vigorous sprint.
Soaking wet, Mooks galloped out of a small ditch with water, howling and shaking himself dry. He quickly ran over to Rina, but his fur barely calmed her rapid breaths. She needed rest and closure; not an acute replacement for them.
Kalvin helped Rina up, silently. He then caulked his head back towards Sylvester, waving for him to approach. “We need to act fast. Another round of guards and Rin won’t have enough energy to push them off.” There weren’t any guards left standing, but Kalvin always took a further step towards precautions rather than assumptions.
Sylvester nodded, jumping over a small hole in the ground and running back towards Bonnie. “Can you ride? We need to get to the gates as soon as possible.”
Kalvin nodded, and just as he was about to respond, Rina swallowed her breaths inside her stomach and galloped onto Klyde, who didn’t seem bothered by her command. “Let’s go.” She panted plainly, kick-starting Klyde’s wild engine for speed, beginning her ascent towards the gates.
Sylvester gave Kalvin a firm nod, washing his nerves down his throat. “Think you can handle it by yourself for a few? We’re far too close to stop now.”
Kalvin glanced around, his eyes like watchtowers in a prison. Stares began targeting him from cracked and broken windows, guards began to shiver and cough up pounds of water, and the air became as clear as the sky above them. “Go. Mooks and I will take care of the mess.”
Nodding, Sylvester gave Bonnie a light whip and raced off after Klyde. Rina gave one look back, bent down, and let Klyde’s thundering hooves guide her to the front gates of the castle.
…
Minutes after Rina’s arrival through the pasture winds, Sylvester galloped off of Bonnie’s back, faced with the giant timber and iron gate that blocked their path. The small wooden door was wide open on the left side, but leaving Bonnie and Klyde out in the open wasn’t the best course of action.
Rina gave Klyde a firm stroke along his neck, jumping off with a racing heart. “Blow it open.” She ordered, her voice lacking any sort of emotion.
Sylvester dimmed his excitement, reaching into a small travel sack on Bonnie’s back. He then grabbed a black sphere, squinting his brows. “With what awaits inside the castle; there could be a number of possibilities.” He gave Rina a stern look, gesturing for her to back up. “My plan only controls the outcomes of events, not the outcomes of people’s intuition.”
“I thought your plans never failed.”
“They don’t,” answered Sylvester. “But a plan revolves around strategy and surprise. And there have been far too many surprises for me to keep count of.”
Rina tied her hair into a ponytail, letting her bangs fall freely on her dusty forehead. Her throat clenched for water, but her eyes fed on hunger and an unsettling urge to embark inside the castle. “Do it.”
Sylvester tensed in his tracks, backing Bonnie and Klyde away from the gates, and throwing the black sphere towards the small wooden door on the left.
Boom! A small, yet durable explosion burst through the timber like glass, sending flyings pieces of sharp spikes of wood in dozens of directions. Nearly half the gate was open freely, and the smoke from the blast filled the open gap faster than light.
Coughing through the smoke, Sylvester focused his spectacle through the slow clearing mist, seeing two very identical silhouettes beside each other.
Klyde galloped into the air with a forceful neigh, jumping and scurrying out and about. Bonnie did the same, fizzled by the blast ringing through her ears.
With a brutal sound vibrating through her hearing, Rina stepped through the smoke into the stone-filled edge of a newly blasted crater. The grey mist began to rise, and her eyes widened every ripple and fiber of gorgeous blue and black colors.
Standing tall in the smoke, and covered in pocket-filled clothes and loosely torn fabric, was Cairo, holding the hand of a little girl. She was drenched in dust and blood—blood that wasn’t hers. A man dressed in dark robes was folded across Cairo’s shoulder, unconscious and covered in dry crumbs and tiny rocks.
A bandage came loose off of Cairo’s arm, and the little girl dashed behind him out of fear, shaking against his leg.
“Hello, Rina,” said Cairo, plainly.
Sylvester sighed a great breath of relief, dropping to his knees in a bout of joy. Rina on the other hand, just smiled. Nothing else was needed but a soft, warming smile across her luscious lips. She smiled so wide, and yet so shallow, but she was happy to smile. Happier as one could be. “Hi, Cairo.”