Pag and Aviva stood at the edge of the plaza, the palace looming behind them, a monument to a fallen empire. The silence of the Sunken City, once eerie, now pulsed with a new tension. The air thrummed with a divine awareness that wasn't Dedisco's.
"We need to get to Kyrbane," Pag said, checking that the Heart of the Abyss was secure within his bag. "But something tells me it won't be a leisurely stroll."
Aviva, her hand resting on her rapier, nodded grimly. "We're going against the grain now. Dedisco might want the Heart of the Abyss, but the other gods... they won't let us use it without a fight."
They set off, moving quickly through the ruined streets. They had barely gone a block when figures materialized from the shadows, blocking their path. These weren't the mindless servants of the Pale Tide, nor were they denizens of the city. These were warriors and mages, their armor gleaming with an unearthly light, their eyes burning with a righteous fury.
"Followers of Textos," Aviva murmured, recognizing the symbol of the sun god emblazoned on their breastplates.
"Heretics!" one of the warriors bellowed, his voice echoing through the silent streets. "You consort with the god of chaos! You defile the sanctity of this land! You will pay for your transgressions!"
The battle began with a clash of steel and a surge of divine power. Aviva, swift and deadly, met their attacks with a flurry of blows, her rapier flashing like lightning in the ethereal light. Pag, remembering the lessons learned in the Patala trials, channeled his pyroclasm with precision, unleashing bursts of obsidian flame that sent attackers reeling.
But the attackers were relentless, their numbers seemingly endless. They were fueled by a fanaticism that knew no fear, no pain, no mercy. Each fallen warrior was replaced by two more, their zeal burning ever brighter.
"We're outnumbered," Aviva said, her voice tight with strain as she parried a blow that would have cleaved her in two. "We can't hold them off forever."
Just as their strength began to waver, a blur of red fur and flashing steel cut through the ranks of attackers. It was Scout, the anthropomorphic fox, her twin daggers a whirlwind of death as she carved a path towards them.
"Get to the docks!" she shouted, her voice sharp and commanding, her movements a mesmerizing blend of grace and lethal precision. "I can hold them off for a while, but you need to get out of here! My crew will get you out of the lunar empire, Xian will be waiting for you on the boat. Tell him I had to stay behind and to get the hell out of here."
Pag and Aviva scramble to follow Scout's instructions, their hearts pounding as they race towards the docks, the echoes of battle fading behind them. They know they owe their lives to Scout's timely intervention, but a wave of guilt washes over them as they are forced to abandon her to face the onslaught alone. The streets are still eerily deserted, the silence amplifying their sense of urgency. They can feel the weight of the Heart of the Abyss in Pag's bag, its power thrumming against his chest, a constant reminder of the dangerous artifact they carry.
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They reach the docks, a chaotic scene of shattered timbers and overturned boats, evidence of the battle that raged even here. They spot Xian waiting for them, his expression a mix of relief and concern as he guides them toward a sturdy-looking vessel, the Serpent's Kiss. A gruff-looking Altacian, Cap'n Beryl, eyes them with suspicion as they board. He doesn't seem happy about ferrying two fugitives, especially with the heightened tensions between Draggor and the Lunar Empire, but a debt to FelineFine compels him to honor his agreement.
As the Serpent's Kiss pulls away from the docks, the Sunken City disappears beneath the waves, taking with it Scout and the secrets it holds. Pag and Aviva watch from the deck, their hearts heavy with gratitude and a lingering sense of unease. They know they are not out of danger yet. They still have to get the Heart of the Abyss to Kyrbane, to confront Dedisco, to find answers and hopefully a way to save their friend. And with Zedite, the god of the oceans, working against them, the journey promises to be fraught with peril.
The vast expanse of the ocean stretches before them, its surface shimmering under the pale moonlight. The journey back to Kyrbane will be long and arduous, with no portals or teleportation to speed their progress . They must rely on Cap'n Beryl and his crew to navigate the treacherous waters, to evade the watchful eyes of Zedite and those who seek to prevent them from reaching their destination.
The salt spray stings Pag's face as he leans against the railing of the Serpent's Kiss, the rhythmic creaking of the ship a constant backdrop to the turbulent emotions churning within him. He watches the waves crash against the hull, their whitecaps glowing with an ethereal luminescence in the moonlight, a beauty that belies the treachery hidden beneath the surface. He knows Zedite, the god of the oceans, is watching, waiting for an opportunity to strike, to claim the Heart of the Abyss for his own.
The weight of the artifact in his bag feels heavier than ever. It's a constant reminder of the power they carry, the power that could heal his friend, the power that could restore balance to this world, the power that could also corrupt him, consume him, twist him into something he no longer recognizes. He glances at Aviva, who sits nearby, sharpening her rapier, her movements precise and economical. Her brow is furrowed in concentration, but Pag can see the worry in her eyes, the fear that flickers beneath the surface. She's afraid for him, afraid of what the Heart of the Abyss might do to him. He knows he needs to reassure her, but the words catch in his throat. What can he say? How can he promise her that he won't succumb to the darkness that whispers within him, the darkness that grows stronger with every pulse of the Heart of the Abyss?
He's about to speak when a shout from the crow's nest cuts through the night air. "Ship sighted! Starboard bow!"
Pag and Aviva exchange a worried glance. Could it be Zedite's forces, already closing in? They hurry towards the bow of the ship, joining Xian and Cap'n Beryl, who squint through their spyglasses towards the horizon. The ship, a sleek, black vessel with sails the color of storm clouds, cuts through the waves, its silhouette growing larger with every passing moment. Even from this distance, they can sense the malevolent energy emanating from it, a palpable wave of hostility that chills them to the bone.
"Ilhemith," Xian breathes, his voice tight with tension. "I'd recognize those sails anywhere. He's Zedite's right hand, a ruthless pirate with a reputation for cruelty."
Cap'n Beryl spits over the railing, his face hardening with grim determination. "Looks like we've got company," he growls, his voice rough as the sea. "And it ain't the friendly kind."
He barks orders to his crew, the Serpent's Kiss coming alive with a flurry of activity. Sails are adjusted, cannons are primed, and weapons are drawn. The air crackles with anticipation, the calm of the night shattered by the impending clash.
Pag and Aviva exchange another look, their hands tightening around their weapons. They know they can't outrun Textos, not with the wind against them and the Heart of the Abyss slowing their progress. They're going to have to fight their way out of this.