The four guards stood frozen before us and at the gruesome sight, their hands clutching their sword handles, Florencia came barreling down the stairs. When she saw what had happened, her eyes widened in sheer shock and it all left her speechless.
What followed was a chaotic mix of shouting and yelling as everyone tried to talk over the other. The sergeant who had ordered his men to grab us trembled in his boots. He could barely walk without stumbling, and none of his men dared to approach the bloody site until ordered to do so.
Jace and Iskander passionately tried to explain what had happened here, while Jaxine fell into a stunned silence. Florencia remained wordless, desperately seeking eye contact with me. And amidst all of this, I still felt the energizing effects of Pecca’s blood flowing through me—something which Goxhandar advised against.
“My goodness, Jonas, are you alright?” asked Florencia, her voice piercing through the clamor with a sharp telepathic whisper.
“Exhausted, but otherwise fine. The demon tore his body apart.”
“Did you get any answers? Did he talk? Catia Zyla was beside herself after you ran after the guard. She understood that the guard had something wrong with him.”
“She seemed perceptive,” I replied. “Pecca said that Vranik was here, but escaped to Lottie some months back. He apparently didn’t manage to corrupt more than him. I don’t think we are in much of a hurry to leave this city.”
“Then I was right,” said Florencia. “But we need to deal with the guards. In their eyes, you killed their comrade-in-arms, and among soldiers, camaraderie is very strong.”
“I have an idea,” I told Florencia and stood up. My coat was grey from the stone dust, and with two long streaks of blood that ran down to the chest and waist.
“Who is in command here?” I asked, but with a tone that unintentionally carried more roughness and menace than intended. Silence hung in the air as none dared to speak.
“You—” I pointed at the sergeant who had instructed his men to apprehend us. “Are you the one responsible for these men, sergeant?”
“I—” he mumbled and did not look at me.
“I will surrender willingly, and explain everything, on the condition that you let my companions go,” I said. “They acted under my orders, and are not to blame. I have no weapons on me, save for this modest pocket knife.” I revealed Rors’ knife from my pocket that I held onto for sentimental value.
“N—No!” the sergeant stuttered, and took a step forward, hands shaking and face pale white. “All of you will be arrested.”
“No. None of us will be arrested,” I said firmly, my voice carrying a calming undertone. I felt Florencia’s magic try to soften down the room as well, but emotions ran high, and it was of limited effect. “I’m willing to cooperate and come willingly if you promise me my companions will be released. This is my condition. If you accept, we won’t have any problems. If you demand to imprison all of us, then…”
“Risky,” said Florencia cautiously, and held her breath. I looked around and noticed that everyone here stood by and hoped this will not come to violence. The fate of the situation rested solely in the hands of the young and nervous sergeant.
The sergeant’s eyes darted from the bloody, dusty mess before him to his men, their courage hanging on a thread. Then, with a quick, apprehensive glance, he looked at the five of us, armed with long swords and an air of excessive confidence.
“Only—” he tried to inject more authority into his voice, but the shaking of his hand and the sweat on his face told another tale. “Only if I chain your hands!”
“That is acceptable,” I said. Everyone breathed out a sigh of relief. Attacking innocent guards was the last thing I wanted to do, but I also knew that murdering a fellow guardsman made me a terrible enemy in any city.
My talk with the captain would go a wholly different route than I had planned.
In great haste, my wrists were bound with three sets of iron cuffs, the men sighing with relief as they completed the task. Their nervousness and urgency subsided slightly.
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There were five who took me, dragging me away, while a squad of ten stayed behind to gather the remains. As they scraped the remnants into a leaking burlap sack, the previous mess there inexplicably transformed into a strange pink paste then dried into a flour-like powder. Before I could witness the guards’ reaction to this unnaturalness, I was taken outside.
There, the city had calmed down. I saw a few onlookers standing further away, held back by a duo of guards, but the marketplace was returning to normal, and the mess was already being cleaned up by volunteers.
I saw guardsmen come and go, some on foot, others on horses, and even a patrol of soldiers marching the street. The display caught people’s attention but wasn’t as significant as it could have been. I was relieved that I had taken Pecca away from all those prying eyes, as the rumors that would’ve spread would’ve been unimaginable.
My body was dragged and shoved through the bustling streets, and eventually, I reached a smaller boulevard. There, a waiting wagon stood before a column of armed men wearing grey chestplates and sea-colored cloaks. As I passed by, their whispers filled with curses and wishes for my terrible death reached my ears.
If looks could kill…
I was seated inside a sturdy but old wooden box, encompassed by rusty iron bars. My cuffs were firmly chained to one of those bars, ensuring that I would not escape. Little did they know that it would’ve taken only a strained thought to split those chains apart.
The wagon jerked into motion and went ahead with haste. It rushed through the city, where people were slowly beginning to close down their shops and finish their work for the day. As we reached farther from the marketplace, the city looked well, bearing almost no signs of what had just happened in that damp cellar.
The barracks of the Caffrian guard were built on the rocky coastline from stones of alternating somber grey and muted beige. A grand entrance it had, wide and imposing, of iron and stone and brass. The whole place had once been an old prison many hundreds of years ago. Now it was teeming with activity as squads of armored men marched in unison. Their footsteps echoed through the air, led by tall men wearing colorful plumes on their helmets, and with bright gold trim on their dull-colored cloaks.
The wagon sped forward, passed the large main entrance, then veered to the right and eventually halted before a smaller door.
There, five weary-looking men stood guard. Accompanying me in the carriage was the sergeant and two of his comrades, all of their faces grim and serious. When they unlocked my chains from the iron bar, they breathed in relief when I calmly followed them inside, showing no signs of aggression.
Quickly they took me inside the barracks, through the tall but dark hallways of stone and countless candles. Stepping inside that place was like going back in time. It was an old place, built in the style of castles and fortified places of old when brutal practicality trumped aesthetics.
I was taken down a flight of stairs into another narrow hallway and unceremoniously thrown into a spacious chamber. There was only an old table, two tabourets, and a wide but short window overlooking a foamy ocean. I sat down to wait, almost losing myself in the calm peace that was in there, and the hypnotizing rhythm of the waves.
After some time, nervous servants came in, their faces sweaty and eyes huge and dark from nerves. I was sure they were told who was waiting in that cursed room.
Their task was to clean the blood off my face and neck and my coat. With cotton cloths they did their work, straining a pink liquid into a wooden washbowl, filled with warm, soapy water. I wondered if they knew that this goop and blood had once been their comrade-in-arms. While the servants managed to clean my skin from blood, they managed only half a job with my coat. It turns out that a wet brush was not enough to fully clean the wool fabric, and they left the job undone before hurrying away.
When that was done and over with, I was left alone with the sergeant and two of his comrades.
“Stay here! Don’t even think about escaping!” he told me. His words were forceful and stern, yet his eyes betrayed a flicker of fear that he was desperately trying to conceal.
“I came here of my own volition,” I said calmly and sat down on the tabouret, my fingers tracing absentmindedly the grooves that were etched into this weathered table made from dark wood. “I don’t have to escape, because I must explain what happened to your commander. It is very important that I do that.”
“Th—” the sergeant said, his cheeks reddened, but he couldn’t finish. He could not understand why I was behaving this way, and instead of straining his mind too much, he instead turned around and rushed off. A young, pale corporal slammed the door shut and locked it from the outside.
The wait stretched far longer than I had expected, yet I confidently felt in no danger. This room, or prison cell rather, shielded me from the noise of the city that had conquered me before. Instead, there was silence and the soothing sound of waves hitting the jagged rocks of the coast over and over, endlessly. I felt taken by the music of it and felt I could rest.
After some time, I expanded my consciousness to scan the surroundings, searching for any hint of anomalies, but found no soul that burned brighter than anyone else. Emotions ran high still, but further away, and I could ignore them wholly. All here were just men without special abilities. And just to ease my low doubts, I sensed the door handle, almost feeling its cold, smooth texture on my fingertips, and managed to unlock the door from where I sat. But I did nothing, released the lock back into place, and rested my mind and my soul from the effort.
Time passed in that dark and damp place, and I could only count time by seeing the sun fall further down, almost touching the roofs in the distance to my right. Shadows were long and no clouds were in the sky. The cries of gulls were still ever-present, and I saw dozens of ships arrive or sail away. Then, a cold wind picked up and whirlwinded through the window into the room. It sapped all warmth from me, and I pulled the collar of my coat up.
Then I heard footsteps approaching.