He stopped in an alleyway and held his breath as he listened to the hustle and bustle of the city around him. Hearing a commotion behind him, the longer he sat and listened, the worse it became, growing ever closer. Resting his back against the wall, trying to blend into the surroundings of the alleyway. Crates from shops on either side of him, previously used to contain food, Norbert peeked into and saw only several vegetables, some going black and spotty.
Covering his mouth with his hand, Norbert took a step away. The smell hit him, a wave overcoming his senses, causing an increased commotion on the main street that was slowly getting pushed away from him but growing louder as it echoed around the alleyway he currently resided in.
Boiled cabbages and rotten mushrooms fought within Norbert’s nose to determine which one was the most overpowering smell. Neither could override the other, as Norbert also had to cover his mouth and start swallowing bile before whatever contents were still in his stomach would come out.
Continuing through the alleyway out the other side, Norbert took the biggest breath possible of clean air. The lack of wind caused him to grimace slightly, and he turned around and spit most of the bile out into the alleyway.
Patting his coin pouch, Norbert went away from the commotion behind him, making a quick turnaround to gauge his sense of direction. He paused in the middle of the street as he finally saw what the commotion was.
The citizens of the under city were rioting, people and things pushing out, forcing the second group not to continue forward.
“One of them made it through!” A voice shouted from the other side of the street.
Turning to the outcry, he saw a banshee pointing at him. His mouth was spread open, and the air rippled in front of him, hitting him and blasting him off his feet back into the alleyway he had just exited from. Smashing into sets of crates, the wood splintered and stung his arms and back. The only thing he had to make sure of was holding onto the sack it was all about.
Impacting off the wall, one of the crates finally took his weight as he fell into one, arms and legs on the outside of it, a wet liquid licking at his backside. He stared up at the cavern ceiling, his pants getting wetter and wetter, the smell once more hitting him, pushing against the crate, breaking it into pieces, and falling to the ground with a squelch.
Lifting his head, he saw people rush inside the alleyway, haltering slightly as the stench of the place confronted them. Getting to his feet, Norbert skittered the way he had first entered in several leaps, making it to the other side, not caring about the uniform getting wrecked now. The energy coursed through his body; the fabric of the guard uniform was already tearing and fraying from his musings through the under city.
Taking a left, Norbert sprinted down the city, no longer caring for being hidden, as he started tearing the guard uniform off him. The coat got flung behind, and the sack was carried over his shoulder, the fibres rubbing against his skin with his jostling.
Jumping onto one of the roofs, he slowed down as he turned around, seeing the ruckus of the riot dying down now. The guards of the Colosseum were now off the streets, pushed back to the area they were authorised to protect and stand watch.
There were no more spells shooting about that he would need to avoid. He was just able to focus on heading back to the mansion, jumping to the next rooftop, and no longer hearing the whales of the banshee that had surprised him at the start.
Jumping to the next one, Norbert windmilled his arms. The sack of the robber's items went wild as he tried to stop himself in mid-air so as not to crash into the child staring up at him. The ball they had been bouncing against the ledge rolled away.
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Nicking the child, Norbert grabbed onto them as he continued, skidding across the roof, the sack tumbling about, hitting the ledge where it precariously tried to tip over.
Unable to stop himself in time without hurting the child now in his arms, Norbert leapt across the main street with a stall underneath him and onto the angled roof on the other side.
Feet scrambling to get a grip, flipping his body around, Norbert jammed his hand into the roof tiles, feeling them slip and break under his fingertips.
Curling his face and biting on his lower lip, Norbert reached further in, impacting with a beam as his hand tried to grab on desperately. Arm jolted as his body cut into the roof tiles. Norbert raised his knees, trying to take the brunt of the force.
Pulling himself up, Norbert sat on the beam that stopped his fall, the child shaking in his arms. Dangling his legs over the room below him, Norbert held the child briefly as he looked down at them.
The single black eye they had, the whites of what he was used to now wholly black, an iris of golden dazzling him in the wreckage. Quickly looking over the child, Norbert noted only a slight grazing on their foot from his fall.
Looking the girl in her eyes, Norbert smiled. “Now, who have I picked up this time?”
The girl shrank up in response, pulling her legs up so Norbert was holding her in the air. She covered her face with her hands and looked away to the street. Pausing for a moment, she leapt straight onto Norbert, wrapping her arms around his neck as tightly as her small arms could.
Norbert patted her on the head, feeling the coarse brown hair through his fingertips, thankful that his hands weren’t getting wet. He heard shouts from down below as people walking by started pointing at him from the stalls underneath. Tent flaps and awnings of grey and black coverings filled most of the street.
Jolting off the beam, Norbert slid onto the rest of the roof, the tiles breaking underfoot. He kicked off the wall as a surge of debris followed him—shouts from below as shoppers quickly went out of the way of the man falling from the sky.
Norbert delicately landed on his feet, looking up at the house where he had met the girl. He saw part of his sack just lying there. Turning to the girl, he felt her hold still shake around his neck. “Can you direct me to the front door?” Norbert asked her as the last debris stopped falling from the sky.
The girl unwrapped one of her hands from around Norbert’s neck and pointed down the end of the street and around the corner. Following the direction given, smiling as he continued to walk at the passers-by, the murmurs and looks given when they didn’t think Norbert was looking at them, only for the person to shuffle off, turning around and pretending to continue with their day, that there was nothing to see with the pair.
Looking down at himself, his coat having wholly been removed, the undershirt ruined and tared the girls shaking under him. Turning the corner, Norbert patted the girl on the head as she looked around again, pointing to the first house on the corner, the door still closed, hearing a slight commotion from inside.
Knocking on the front door, the black metal used to connect the pieces staining the white wood around it. Lines of rust falling down the door, skipping over knicks and cracks made in the door. Shuffling on one foot to the other as he waited for someone to open the door, a tinkling sound came from the ground next to his feet.
Knocking again, he did not hear anything more as the other side of the door became quiet. Whistling in boredom, he tapped his foot on the ground. A sharp pain shot from the ball of his foot. Stopping his tapping, Norbert looked under to see what had dug in.
A piece of pottery had been smashed against the door, the pieces shattering and scattering about, picking the piece off before flicking it away.
“FREAK!”
Norbert half-turned as he located the source of the outcry, only to see an object hurtling to his face. Closing his eyes, a liquid covered his face, drenching his body as the smell hit him once more. His face smelling foul, his pants soiled, Norbert just looked down at the girl still clutching him, smiling, seeing her spared from the filth that was thrown at him.
Still hearing no response, Norbert reached for the door handle, halting his hand as he changed his vision to magic. He confirmed no spells or runes lingering on the door handle, to exact some punishment on anyone that would enter without permission.
Pulling the door towards him, the broken rubbish being swept away and onto the street, Norbert took a step inside as he looked about. The child in his hands wriggled her way out of his grip. He placed her on the ground, closed the door behind him as he was surrounded by darkness, and heard the pitter-patter of steps going upstairs.