"To me men!" A captain called out to his men, a black fabric ribbon crossing his steel cuirass fluttering in the air rippled by spells. "Focus on those who appear to have magical abilities before moving down the ranks." The veteran sellsword gave the order to the sole rogue in his detachment before motioning his men to fan into a thin line.
Figures rushed in through the breach, hurling death at anyone daring to stop them and butchering those unlucky customers slow enough to be found not running for their lives.
"Lion's Roar!" Each guard near the captain felt a power fill their hearts, a powerful roar rocked the air. "Push them out! Keep them locked in for as long as possible."
The Flinter native ordered causing a proper melee to start as his men rushed toward their unknown enemy, swords hacking into the wood of the chairs flung at them.
In an instant, flame tongues ate away at the mortar before a shockwave threw everyone near it onto the ground as a hail of jagged stones cut through the Black Ribbon's men. By sheer luck, the heavily armed tank missed the cone of shrapnel which left the men working under him as that much cut meat on the carpet.
"Death to the slavers!" An attacker lunged over the row of knocked down chairs, aiming the tin point of an arming sword toward his eye. "!-"
Air rushed out of the clocked figure as the sellsword slammed his shield into the attacker's stomach, followed by a pale blue edge of his sword.
"Everyone stand up!" The tattooed woman who Alexandre didn't know the name of pulled everyone by the back of their shirt. "Run along the left wall until you reach the exit." Her finger made a half circle as it followed the distant wall of the hall, currently engulfed in chaotic combat.
Stunned and dazed the slaves stared at her blankly before their minds caught up and realised their chance to escape.
"Why are you not running?" Alexandre asked, his muscles screaming at him to follow others but something was making him unable to do that until he knew why the woman was stopping.
"Have to run to free the rest, you have to go." Her face hardened and she motioned him like a soldier waving the mob away.
"Wouldn't you need some way to open locks?" Alexandre said, casting a spell and showing an ethereal lockpick in front of him.
"Follow me." She said jumping back on the now-ruined stage with pieces of shrapnel carving deep channels through its wooden panels.
Albeit a noble at birth, Alexandre spent his life as a petty criminal so combat was an alien sight for him. He almost got his head lobbed off after staring at a fight against a guard and a darkly dressed figure. All the light at the beginning emanating from their bodies seemed a weapon of its own and the speed at which they fought. He could have never imagined the human body enduring such exercise for long.
The slaver who had almost managed to cut his height by a head, reached over his head before collapsing with a river of blood gushing out the side of his neck.
"Don't slow down. We have only a few moments before the soldiers reach here and flood the corridors." The woman explained, pulling Senchor into a side room. "Unlock the cages, I'm going to keep them here."
"What?" He furrowed his eyebrows. "Aren't you here to free them?"
"Yes, but they're going to be panicking and it's not going to help if they run out without a plan."
Quickly, Alexandre kneeled in front of the first lock. The people behind the bars pushed themselves against the wall as if he was coming inside to whip them. Yet it didn't pass over his head the many white round eyes watching keenly from the dirty shadows clinging to the walls.
"Unsellable?" He muttered to himself as he heard the first clicking of the pin setting. Looking at the way this battered bunch lacked any bedding or how they looked they weren't seen as sell-able by the slavers. He stopped thinking about what did the people were kept alive for if they were treated like this and pressed his hand against the lock's body. "Hot." Alexandre snapped his hand back as he felt the magical heat burn his skin.
Compared to the locks he usually opened, the mechanism wasn't top-of-the-line. It didn't have to be given that the guards would have taken away any tools and any thin wire one could find and one the lock from inside the cell would have got too soft from the heat to push against the tougher-than-usual springs.
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"Click out of one, nothing on two, three is binding..." His ethereal tools suddenly jolted as the tension was released all at once causing the door to slowly and with a long whine swing open.
Alexandre hurried to the next door. The cells were meant to be open with one key so the subsequent door swung open even faster than the previous one as he grew accustomed to the mechanism.
"Good job." The woman managed to squeeze between her instructions to the slaves. Unfortunately, some didn't listen and ran outside scattering between the maze-like corridors. "Time to go everyone, after me."
A figure wearing a bandana covering most of its face buzzed with energy which arced between the figure and the fried bodies encased in half-molten sarcophagi.
"How many is that?" The figure levitating slightly dropped to the floor and asked the tattooed woman.
"Roughly sixty slaves."
"Hmmm." The man behind the mask nodded as he stepped to the side allowing them entry before joining in with the escape.
Blood and guts adorned the previously immaculate green hall which seemed to have a storm passed through it as nothing seemed in place, with chairs stacked high and set on fire filling the entire building with smoke.
Running through the breach in the wall, every masked figure seems to scatter through a dense maze of alleys with one or two slaves behind them. It didn't take a genius to figure it out why the last section of the seemingly well-orchestrated plan seemed to be rushed as barking orders of officers and the thunderous sound of hooves rumbled through the city.
"You're going with me?" Alexandre felt a hand touch his shoulder. Turning around he saw the tattooed woman with the two twins walking like ducklings behind her.
There was nothing more Alexandre wanted than to turn around and rush to rescue his sister Claire, but he had no idea where she was.
"Sure." He replied. If there were people who could help him find his sister. The place where the strange people who rescued him seemed like a good place to start with.
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POV Change.
Iris felt his mind waking up like a wind-up toy. She reached for the mound in front of her, firmly embracing the thick cover she and her lovely saviour slept under.
"Sweetheart fits you we-" The risen's hand circled on top of the mound before stopping as the kitten which should be underneath the cover didn't make a sound like she always did. "What are you doing here?"
Reflecting off Iris's aster eyes was a curled-up clay construct which tilted its macabre face toward her. For the past couple of days, Kia had spent at least two bells working on her clay minions, making them go from rather toy-looking to some sort of idols one would expect to see crazed cultists gather around and sacrifice people too. Oddly enough the why heiress of a powerful House had such souvenirs was easier to explain than many of Kia's other particularities.
"Kia ordered you to do this?" She frowned as the construct true to its nature was tight-lipped about its master's orders. "She wouldn't be happy that you're not answering your Master." Iris sat up, turning her back to the construct. The necromancer found it annoying that the clay golems didn't choose Iris over her whenever they had to choose between the two undead. No matter how much the girl tried to beat into their heads that they should obey Iris on every occasion, the two in their constructed mind always found a way to obey Kia's wishes.
The lack of power, even if pushed on her by Kia didn't bother Iris as in her heart she did find sympathy for the clay minions' antics. Especially because the situations when they didn't listen to Iris were rare and only happened when Kia was testing their loyalty.
"Is she in the house?" Iris stood up, mostly dressed in her standard leather attire and watched the clay statue be motionless for a breathless moment before slowly nodding its overly large head.
Barefooted, the undead hoplite began to play hide and seek checking each and every room and corner looking for her Sun and Star who had never left her bed in such a manner.
"What is that girl doing?" The tall damestar raven, knelt on the floor checking underneath the sofas, finding the second animate statue diligently sweeping the dust.
Starting to doubt how much she could trust the golem, the once elven servant opened the door to the side room where the servants should live. Searching through the grey-tinted night vision, her eyes didn't see the snow-like doll anywhere in the room.
"Kia?" Iris stopped as she saw the girl sitting on the outside window sill against the clear night sky full of twinkling stars and colourful nebulas hanging above the panorama-like view of the city and the bay far into the distance.
"Iris, you're not sleeping?" The girl turned around.
"You are not the one who should be asking this. Only one of us is called Sleepyicu." She said as she walked toward the open window.
"You're the only one calling me that." The girl's eyebrows dipped into a displeased expression.
"And it fits you perfectly," Iris said as she climbed out of the window and joined the necromancer in her nighly sky seeing. "What are you doing outside, especially at such a bell? And why did you order the golem to sleep on your spot." The elf asked, worried that the girl could slip into slumber and fall down.
"I woke up came here and, and..." An embarrassed flush painted the girl's pale face with light raspberry pink.
"Were too lazy to come wake me up?" Iris began to stroke Kia's raven black hair causing her stutter to disappear.
"You seem in a rather good mood, is it because of the sky you chose to sit here?" The elf inquired as the girl settled back with a shadow of a smile on her face.
"It's pretty up here."
"But it is not the reason why you are here," The elf raised her brow as Kia began to play with the hem of the oversized white shirt. On the ancient's petite body, Iris's old shirt resembled a warm nightgown from afar. "You're bad at lying." She spoke again as Kia's overly expressive face clearly painted her question, How did you know that?
"I felt something pulling me here." The ancient's thin arms wrapped around the elf's own arm.
"The Effect?"
"No," The ancient mage shook her head which she pressed against the elf. "I wanted to breathe in the fresh air." The undead breathlessly answered before she settled against her warm Anchor.
"The air here does feel nice." The risen took a deep breath, unable to feel its temperature, but knowing that it was cold air coming from Vitas.
The two ravens stayed glued to each other for a long moment as they both stared in front of themselves, taking in the pretty sight.
"Iris, can you stay tomorrow with me? I know that you're leveling up but I want to stay like this for much longer." The mage eventually said, moving her head to stare up at the taller undead.
"If that's what you want." The risen said happy to fulfil the girl's request.
"No Iris," The porcelain girl suddenly tore herself from Iris's chest in protest. "... I want you to say it. I don't want you to agree with me."
"You want me to suggest what you already suggested," The elf looked at the shorter woman who avoided meeting her eyes, choosing to fiddle with Iris's jacket. "Kia, I want you to listen to me. I'm going to spend the entire tomorrow with you. And there is nothing you can do to stop me." Her fingers gently grasped Kia's nape as she spoke into her ear.
The strange girl dug her body into the elf, a decedent smile adorning her cute face.
"You're a weird yet adorable woman, Kia," The elf said as she noticed the undead's restless legs kicking the stone. "But at least you're mine." She pulled the petite undead closer and watched the night sky slowly move above them while the girl stared into the dark city.