"I still don't think you should've brought him.”
"It's only the first circle, we shouldn't have much trouble here."
The first circle of Hell. This place resembles the woods behind Uncle's house, except it feels off. Like the forest itself is trying to tell me to leave, in a harsh tone. Whenever I’m here I feel a constant, subtle pressure on my body, as if someone were pushing down on my shoulders. It’s apparently good for training. Normally I'm comfortable wearing a faded black hoodie and denim shorts, but here they feel like my training weights. I also have a leather belt going through three belt loops, but not for my pants, it holds the sheath for my dagger, which is another slight issue. The pressure here means I need more strength to hold the dagger in a position so I don't cut my leg. I'm used to the dagger being as light as a pencil, but now I'm forced to hold the nearly ten inch blade awkwardly with both hands. My walk is almost a limp at this point, but thankfully I'm wearing my training shoes. My dark gray Matim Crucials quarter-tops that are practically falling apart as I walk… I need new training shoes. As we pressed deeper into the creepiest forest ever that managed to get less dense yet still grew darker, I got the feeling we’re being watched through the darkness. Other than that I'm starting to notice how much taller these trees are than the ones back home. Some of them even have a natural red tint to them, at least I hope that's a natural tint. I reach out with one hand trying to touch one of the red trunks but as my hand is inches away I lose balance. I forgot about the weight of the dagger. Luckily no one saw that, I readjust my grip and straightened my stance. Looking down at the dagger I remember how it used to resemble a common kitchen knife but now looks fitting for an assassin. I slowed down and stared at it, the markings appeared again, but this time it wasn't the faint glow I’m familiar with. The markings are now a deep, bright crimson that could make brimstone fire jealous. I have no idea what they mean, but I also don't ask. I look up to see myself trailing behind, I do a little sprint trying to catch up. I only caught up because Father slowed down.
"Hey Father," I said, "how do you know which circle we're in?"
He didn’t answer immediately instead he paused for a moment pondering his answer. "Well now I pretty much know how each circle looks… and feels, they-"
"Except eight and nine."
"Yes, except eight and nine," Father agreed while scowling at her, "however, you could also just look at Āna's hair."
Āna is short for Ānanda, she’s a demon, Father's demon, I still don’t fully understand how it all works but she’s practically like his second child. She even manages to look the part, kind of. Ānanda resembles a little girl but is older than Father and me combined, much older. You think I’d know how old she is by now since she’s been helping keep me safe since birth, but no. Father told me I should never ask a lady her age, especially Ānanda. He then gave me one of his patented “Demon Lessons”, like a life lesson from your dad but the topic is about Hell, and often not entirely suited for kids, normal kids anyway. When it comes to figuring out the age of demons, devils, and even some Angels it’s best if you ask what or who the current form is based on. This determines the approximate age and touchdown country, the country the demon, devil, or Angel landed in when they arrived on earth. And if they didn’t arrive in that country, it’s most likely where they’re most comfortable. Let’s say a demon’s form is based on traditional Celtic people. In this example the demon in question arrived in early Scotland and adapted to that culture. They could have a Scottish accent, use common idioms from that region or time period, and may even keep hairstyles from the time period. Obviously they can simply adapt to the world around them but if they don’t completely immerse themselves, there will always be something about them reminiscent of traditional Celtic culture. Demons and devils are mostly soldiers of Hell but easily stand out among humans. The solution however is simple: look human. Weaker demons pull this off by possessing humans, but powerful demons are able to change into human forms. These demons do however run the risk of being discovered by means of Holy water and other divine interventions. Demons that transform into humans usually turn into their doppelganger then often kill whoever they’re mimicking and either move away or take over their lives. Most devils already look human enough to blend in with crowds. Ānanda says Devils only need to conceal their non-human parts, but she hasn’t told me what non-human parts they have, which kind of defeats the purpose of teaching me about it. And finally Angels, Angels are powerful enough to turn into a human of their own creation by mimicking what they think a human should look like. They’re also able to copy other people’s appearance but don’t do the killing thing. With that being said, I don’t know anything about the girl or woman Ānanda chose to copy, I doubt she’d ever tell me anyway. She looks like any other blonde fifth grader, kind of. Her knee high boots and stockings are closer to what teens wear, plus the shorts that barely match her frilled blue shirt. She has pigtails now but usually wears her hair down or in a ponytail, wait, did she dye her hair?
"Um, Ānanda, why is your hair purple…-ish?" I asked.
"It's the circle we're in, I would go into detail but-" she stops and turns to me. She gets closer, too close, "no," she said before skipping away and giggling.
"Hold," Father suddenly declared, raising a fist up.
He stopped us at a cliff that I swear appeared out of nowhere. I need to work on my awareness if I missed this. We were overlooking a prison that reminded me of pictures from my history book. One large fort-like building with multiple smaller buildings lined up on either side of it and maybe a few acres of barren land around it, all enclosed by moving barbed wire. With all that land around the fence, it’s obvious there's a minefield. The entrance has a medieval looking drawbridge that also looks like the only way in or out. Lastly there’s four towers at each corner, likely for searchlights and snipers. The more I look at the whole set-up the more familiar it seems, I can’t remember where I’ve seen something like this.
"It’s influenced by Nazis, but the Nazis got the idea from Hell. Well technically from a demon, from there they improved on it drastically. We usually take prisoners to a different place depending on how we want to torture them but humans. Humans kept all their prisoners in one place, all the blood, all the screams, all the bodies. Demons don't even do that."
I looked at Ānanda as she finished. I was annoyed that she had read my mind again, but my anger quickly faded as I saw her face. She looks disgusted, disapproving of what the other demons had done. It shows how different she is from them. I know she's okay with torture, enjoys it even but she doesn’t torture the innocent. As she says, ‘I don’t torture for fun but I have fun torturing’, its a confusing motto.
"Sorry, I know you don't like me reading your mind, but I was curious. This is your first time here after all," she explained.
"Uh….yeah," I replied. Wait, did she just apologize to me?
"You're not nervous right?" She giggled teasing me.
"Who are we here for?" I asked Father, ignoring her.
"The prisoners here are mostly humans who got too close to the gate we entered through," Father answered. “We get in, release them, then you and Āna escort them out. Easy enough, yeah?”
We entered through a Hell Gate next to Ruby Saints Church graveyard. The nuns there asked a nearby Paladin for help. That was a week ago, so now we’re here. Father said a rescue mission like this is a good training opportunity that’ll allow me to test my skills against enemies that’ll actively be trying to kill me. But I don’t see how it’ll be much different from Ānanda fatally wounding me, healing me, and repeating that for a few hours almost everyday. Even though I could die today, I'm happy that this is a mission that requires me to use my armor. The only downside about this mission is that we’re breaking into a prison in Hell and transporting who knows how many people through that "forest" we trudged through to get here. Oh and that’s assuming that they all have their souls, unfortunately we can’t just take soulless humans out of Hell. And then there’s the Paladin issue. You'd think that if we rescued that Paladin we’d have one more person to help us get out of there, right? That’d be a no, if this Paladin is still alive then he’d start swinging at Father first.
You see, my Father isn’t your average Paladin, he’s BUILT different. No but seriously, he’s known as The Rogue, a Paladin imbued with the power of unholy forces. The world views him as "The Ultimate Evil on Earth". All Paladins have agreed to kill him on site and the Angels, well they’re trying to do something else. Father and Ānanda think the Angels have been ordered to capture him alive, probably so they could figure out how he got his power. Some people think he's a good guy though, like Medea, Madam C, and the rest of the street. They know that Father is The Rogue but they’ve been keeping that secret since before I was born. I don't know the whole story but basically he went Rogue so he could save the city, he ended up saving a good chunk of the Southern United States but that’s besides the point. No one saw my Father transform into The Rogue but nearby Paladins were somehow able to confirm that the Split-Shot Paladin, my Father’s previous Paladin name, died in combat in an unusual way. Shortly after, the local news reported sightings of a Paladin that seemed different from the rest but in a troubling way. About a week after my Father made the news as what became known as The Rogue, he’d then be reported fighting a celebrity Paladin known as The South’s Claymore. The South’s Claymore spoke about the battle a few days later claiming that the Paladin he was seen fighting is known as The Rogue. He also claimed that The Rogue killed his best friend, The Split-Shot Paladin. Messed up, I know, but Father had to keep his secret from him, I don’t fully understand why but he said when I’m older I’d get it.
Most Paladins namesakes come from their weapon of choice, there’s only a few Paladins named after their great feats. My Father was one of them. His original weapon of choice was a bow and arrow. My Father was able to shoot an arrow, then shoot a second arrow fast enough and straight enough to split the first arrow in half in midair. After people saw him do that a couple times they started referring to him as “The Split-Shot Paladin”. Then came the transformation, after becoming powered by Hell he was able to summon any weapon made by man, just like a Demon. Paladins are able to summon one or a few weapons. The part that sucks the most, we don’t get to pick our weapons. The Paladin that went missing down here is a sword-wielder, there are so many sword wielders. It doesn’t matter what weapon they have though, I know they won’t be happy to be rescued by The Rogue, a little Paladin, and a demon.
I return my focus to the prison and come to an alarming realization, we didn't run into any guards. Even if the human souls aren’t important enough to protect, what about the Paladin? Maybe they are dead, or maybe…
"Hey Father, ya’ think we were followed?" I asked a bit too loudly.
"No, any guards would have attacked by now," he replied. But as he said that there was a loud gasp behind us, followed by what sounded like metal falling from a shelf.
"Right on time," Ānanda said. "You know something I wonder about Jasün? If you didn’t bring it up, would the problem still exist?"
Turning around I’m greeted by a red hulking beast with pointed ears clad in faded gray, worn-out armor. This thing is standing at least eight feet tall and dropped a sword that looks to be about my height in length. He’s wearing a cracked helmet that leaves his face exposed and currently looks like a parent disappointed in their child.
"Are ya’ a Hellknight?" he asked. "Why’re ya’ a lil' girl? What're ya' doin'?"
"Like right now?" Ānanda asked playfully. "Killing you," she says while summoning a lance.
Father just grabs my head and gently turns me back around.
"Let’s let Āna deal with that demon," he said, "you and me’ll focus on this prison. We only have one point of entry and exit, but Āna has multiple."
"What!?" Ānanda says, followed by the sound of the demon gurgling.
"You first wave bi-," the demon’s voice is cut off by a quick swiping sound.
"Like I was sayin’. All we have to do is take out or distract the folks in those towers. Once they’re taken care of Āna’ll be able to enter safely from above. First we’ll take out the guards in front of that unnecessary drawbridge allowing Āna to lower it. After lowering it she’ll disappear so that they’ll think we somehow opened the door. That’s when we’ll rush inside. We need to prioritize handling the armed guards first, then make a move for the prisoners. And son," he looks at me, "keep the mask on."
"Let me see the dagger,” Ānanda said, walking back to us.
"Sure," I said while awkwardly handing her the blade with two hands. "What's it for anyway? I don’t think I’d be able to use it in a fight down here."
"Just in case," she answered, taking the literal weight out of my hands. She eyes it over looking at runes as if she’s reading the message inscribed. I know she knows what the runes say but would she tell me? Probably not. She slowly walks past me to the edge of the cliff and stands there for a moment. She’s probably trying to figure out an alternate plan. She kneels down and jabs the dagger into the side of the cliff. Now there’s a dagger sticking out the side of the cliff…
"Did I carry that all the way here for us to leave it there?"
"Hopefully," Father and Ānanda answered in unison.
"JINX!" Ānanda exclaimed like a little girl on a playground.
"I’m not gettin’ you a devil just so you can treat them like a life-sized doll," Father said, making Ānanda pout. Her pouting makes her seem like an actual little girl. Now that I think about it, does she go to school? I mean she’d be able to blend in based on her appearance, and she’s smart enough to act like a kid when we’re out in public together. If she does go to school, why does go to a different school than me? Wait what if she does go to my school and I somehow never noticed this entire time. Oh no, she noticed me staring.
"What'cha thinkin' 'bout Jasün?" she asked annoyingly.
"Stop teasin' ‘em Ana," Father said, "and you better be ready when those towers aren’t lookin’."
"I will, I will," Ānanda answered.
"Jasün," Father said, turning to me, "how’s the mask?"
"It's good, I barely even feel it."
"Good."
I’m wearing an Oracle Assassins mask that Ānanda got me and I don’t want to know how she got her hands on it. The Oracle Assassins are a deadly group of international assassins that are hard enough to spot without their masks. All I know about them is that they’re the only assassin group that’ll go after Hellspawn, humans, and Paladins. And this mask proves that they’re not a myth like I originally believed. As for the mask itself, it only covers the bottom half of the face. The eyes are exposed on purpose to help conceal the wearer’s identity and inform other assassins about their soul. Ānanda explained that if your soul is intact the mask turns the eyes glossy or matte black and we also went in front of a mirror to show me. Although the group is pretty scary, their masks still look cool. As for what makes them so scary, Oracle Assassins are known for killing only their targets and leaving their guards either unaware or unconscious, all while being unseen. On the slim chance an assassin is seen, their mask concealed their true identity making it impossible to follow them or single them out in public. For this mission this mask will ensure none of these demons or devils can figure out who I actually am. Ānanda doesn’t really care if anyone finds out who she is, besides she’s a demon too so if need be she could always change her looks. As for Father, his armor comes with a hood that gives him a shadowy, black mass where his face is supposed to be.
Every Paladin is able to do the same two things: summon a weapon and instantaneously dawn their armor by focusing their divinity, which most Paladins refer to as “armor up”. When a Paladin focuses their divinity it causes their armor to appear on them and, like their weapons, Paladins don’t get a choice in armor. Typically a Paladin’s armor and weapon complement each other and seem representative of the Paladin’s personality. When it comes to Father, I know he has a choice in his weapons but I’ve never seen him change his armor. The Rogue’s armor are sleek dark gray plates on the chest, shoulders, hips, knee and shins with black pants and a black robe with a hood. His face isn’t concealed unless he has on his hood. While the armor as whole looks cool the most defining feature is the hood. He’s not the only Paladin with a hood but he’s the only one who’s hood actually hides his face. He armors up, reminding of his last defining feature, the black smoke. Whenever he armors up or summons his weapon black smoke falls over him like a waterfall and engulfs his old clothes quickly replacing them with his Paladin armor and weapons.
"Well," Father said, finishing his transformation, "let's see it Jasün."
"Right," I replied.
I close my eyes, clearing my mind and thinking of only my light. Letting the warmth of divinity wash over me, I instantly feel the familiar weight of my armor. My armor is double that of Father’s with a heavy chestplate, iron orbs on my shoulders and knee, and thick guards on my shins and forearms all of which is a glossy silver. And finally what Ānanda considers my defining feature, a thin silver crown along my hairline with a purple gem as the centerpiece. I don’t have any way to cover my face which is why Ānanda got me the Oracle Assassins mask.
"Ooooooh, that's new!" Ānanda said.
"What!?" I exclaimed, my eyes popped open in excitement over the thought of a new armor piece.
Father says that my armor will grow with me, pieces will get removed and added after numerous transformations. By the time I’m an adult my armor should be fully developed, but even with all that in mind it’s been awhile since anything changed.
"You have a CUTE LITTLE CAPE!!!" Ānanda shouted, bouncing with excitement over it.
"Calm down, Āna! Stealth," Father said, reminding her.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but look at him," Ānanda replied. "It’s like he’s a cute little superhero!"
"...I'm not cute," I said quietly.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
"It's okay," Father said, putting his hand on my shoulder. "Its a good look, makes you seem regal."
"Like a cute, wittle prince," Ānanda said teasingly.
"Ānanda," Father said sternly. Sometimes it’s like he’s her father too, but she definitely doesn’t feel like a sister.
"Okay, Okay, I'm going," Ānanda said while walking off the cliff then floating towards the prison. "Sooo cute," she said one more time before dropping out of sight.
"Jasün, ready your blades," Father said, setting his sights back on the prison. "I doubt they’d just let us in or maybe…" I think Father came up with a new plan, he usually changes things on the fly like this. On one hand it makes him seem more unpredictable but on the other hand, it’s kind of similar to last minute planning. I guess it’s about perspective. “Actually, you won’t need the blades.”
"Uhh, what?" I replied with worry in my voice.
"Teleportin’," Father said, turning towards me. “When we get down there, just follow my lead. For now turn around, close your eyes, and keep your hands behind your back. Don't open your eyes 'til I start talking, and definitely don’t say anything."
Father's able to teleport almost anywhere, which is the coolest thing ever. Most Paladins are able to cover great distances inhumanly fast in one form or fashion. Father thinks that since I have two blades, I might have superspeed but to be honest, I'd prefer teleportation like him. Whenever Father teleports he's engulfed in a black smoke that emerges from the ground like he's standing over a chimney. This is the same black as night smoke that engulfs him when he armors up or summons a weapon, it’s so thick you can't even see through it. After his entire figure is covered by the smoke, it begins to dissipate just as quickly as it appeared. Then his target location, the best part in my opinion. You see his foot, maybe both feet, then a thick haze as black as the smoke. The haze rises as his body and reveals his body as if it’s manifesting it. Eventually all that's left is The Rogue, with thick black smoke clouds coming from his shoulder and knees like smoke stacks. Sometimes he’s even able to walk while teleporting, whenever he does it looks like he walks into a line of smoke and out of a mysterious wall of haze with his own personal smoke trails.
The ground feels different, we must’ve teleported. There’s a strange smell in the air, not bad but definitely unfamiliar. Father nudged me ahead leading me somewhere.
"Remember to keep your hands behind your back,” he whispered. “How y'all doin'!" He shouted suddenly….but at who?
I finally open my eyes to be greeted by numerous demons in front of a gate. This is the prison gate, we’re in front of the gate, and I’m not even in handcuffs, rope, even duct tape would suffice. The four demons in front of us are all as tall as the one Ānanda took down, and look both angry and confused by our presence. All their armor is dull, one is even heavily battered probably from combat. The armor also has a similar style as the other demon’s so he was definitely a prison guard. All the guards in front of us are armed with swords except for the one in the back closest to the gate. He might be in charge, he has a strange swirling marking with an “X” on top of the swirl. He also has a light shield, a buckler maybe, and a long spear. Well if my hands are supposed to stay behind my back and Father just casually greeted all of them maybe he thinks we’ll be able to sneak in.
"I got ya’ Prince a present here,” Father said, nudging me forward again. “I think he’ll like it! Or do y’all have a princess ‘round these parts?"
"I didn't know The Rogue was from the Southern U.S.," one demon said to the other.
“Yeah I grew up in Louisiana, but we’d drive to Texas like we were pickin’ a bag sugah," Father exclaimed.
"What would our lord want with a childish imitation of a Paladin?" the marked demon said, stepping forward. She sounded like a regular lady, if my eyes were still closed I’d have mistaken her for human.
"Well m'lady," Father started with a bow. "As I'm sure y'all know, I myself was a Paladin not too long ‘go. If I can convert, don't 'cha think anotha' one can too? And, wouldn't it be better to start ‘em young? Kids are the future y'know."
She paused for a moment. "That’s a good point, Rogue." She took a knee in front of me and leaned in, inspecting me closer as if I were an object. "Does it have a voice?"
"Well o' course he do!" Father answered slapping my back, "but I can't have 'em yellin' all tha' way down here. A simple silencer is in play, easy ta' remove if you'd like."
She stands up, looking more relaxed now. "We’ll leave his throat cuffed for now but why are you two here?" A menacing grin grows on her face as she doesn't break eye contact with me. She’s actually making me sweat, did she figure us out?
"Well ya’ see while I am The Rogue, I'm still a human!" Father chuckles a bit, like that was actually funny, the other guards just look as annoyed as I feel. He cleared his throat realizing no one else was laughing. "As I was sayin', I wanted to leave the youngin' here with y'all for a few hours while I rested a bit. Once I’m feelin’ back to one hundred percent I’ll gon’ ‘head and take ‘em to the Throne Sect. Now I do understand this is a prison facility but I’m sure ya’ mind keepin’ me entertained for a couple hours Warden."
Warden? She looks like the other guards, did I miss something? Does that swirl signify her status?
"Well that does sound troublesome, hmmm… Please come in," she said, turning around to lead us in. "Lower entry! And Position for Regal Guests!"
"Regal?!" Father said with shock. The remaining guards pause for a moment seeming just as shocked as Father is. The warden peeked over her shoulder and the guards immediately separated onto both sides of us.
"PARDON OUR PRESENT ARMOR!" All four of them said in unison, it only sounds like two distinct voices though.
"This seems like a bit much for just me Miss Warden," Father said with concern in his voice. I don’t think the others noticed his concerning tone though.
"All Facilities in every circle have this protocol in place should a Hell Knight, Fallen or even royalty, come by. While you are neither you have slain an Angel, a feat only few royalty has done, and even fewer Hell Knights. So to me, you’re almost equal to the least known Fallen." As she finished the drawbridge made contact with the ground, without making a sound I might add. The way I know it touched the ground is because of the dust.
"C'mon now boy!" Father commanded while guiding me forward. I started walking forward so nervously that I almost forgot how to walk properly. Somebody’s going to catch onto us unless I can clean this up somehow. I shake myself out of his and start walking at my own pace hoping to keep up the charade. "Heh, nice," Father said under his breath.
From here I can better see the individual buildings. The main building directly in front of use is three floors and has a row of windows on the second and third floors. The bland structure kind of reminds me of a building you’d see on school grounds. I can tell there’s a one story building that runs alongside the right wall. This building not only has numerous doors and windows it looks like it’s also somewhat separated into uneven sections. Both of these buildings look nothing like a prison. The warden walks in causing the building to ripple. No, not the buildings, everything rippled. It’s as if I’m looking at a reflection on water and she caused that water to ripple distorting what I thought was the prison.
"It’s a concealment," Father said, catching up to me and pressing me forward. “You’ll be fine.”
I’ve never seen a concealment like this but if he says it’s alright I guess I’ll continue forward. I closed my eyes to make the experience easier, well it feels easier, I doubt it actually matters. I can tell I’m crossing the concealment because I feel it crawling under my clothes and armor. It’s a feeling I’ll never get used to. I open my eyes once I feel myself fully crossover to see that most of what we saw with the concealment was a facade. The buildings are still here and in their respective places but the prison is crawling with guards. I try to scan the area without turning my head too much. I can see a line of prisoners being pushed into the building on my right but only one or two of them look human, even then that’s not a guarantee that they are. On my left I see a few guards heading underground with one prisoner. Do Father and Ānanda know there’s an underground?
"Everyone!" The Warden said suddenly. "Our Regal Guest!" She turns around gesturing to present us, well Father not me. She looks entirely different now. Like a human with slightly purple skin, her elongated ears stick out from her golden blonde hair that goes to her shoulders. She’s also shorter, closer to Father’s height now but still sounds as feminine as before. Instead of armor she now has a suit similar to the ones the lady news anchors wear. Her deep crimson suit with shining gold trim has a skirt that goes below her knees but still shows her off her jet black stockings. Her tall heels are also the same color as the suit and completes a look that screams “I’m in charge”. All the guards around us seem to have stopped doing whatever they were doing to salute us. Looking past her I notice that the guards around the main building have different armor, not different in design or symbolism but it looks new. The fresh looking guards have bronze and silver trims on their polished armor, they also look well groomed compared to the guards we met at the gate.
"Independents!" The Warden shouted. A woman landed on the right of The Warden. She looks out of place wearing shorts and an oversized black shirt with the words “R3D GooN” on it. She jogs up to The Warden’s side while pulling her hair into a puff and putting a hair tie in. I didn’t see when she landed but she has an absurd amount of knives on her. There’s six on each leg, two on her upper arm, one on each side of her hip, and it looks like there’s two more in place on her back. She finishes her hair and looks at me with her green eyes, it’s like she’s studying me right now.
“Yes Madam?” she said in a cold tone.
“Hmm, where’s Mira?” The Warden asked.
“Knowing her, probably sneaking up trying to startle me again,” the woman answered.
“Aww c’mon!” a disembodied voice said. A woman then appeared on The Warden’s right, she was taking off the hood of a hoodie? I’ve never seen a hoodie like that. It has grass, or fake grass, on it similar to a ghillie suit but only on the back. The front is a faded gray with the words “GR3N GooN” written on it. What even are these colored goons? Her tights are a similar tone gray as her hoodie and her black boots look completely out of place. She also has a rifle on her back with black and purple tape on the barrel and what looks like a homemade silencer on the end. “You’re no fun, y’know that? Well anyway, how may I help Madam?”
“Rogue, these two are my independents. This is Sangiria,” The Warden said motioning to the walking knife storage. “She’s a close quarters expert and as you can tell has a preference for knives. The other is Mira,” she said motioning to the other woman. “She’s an exceptional marksmen and–”
“Hey little guy! What’s your name?,” Mira asked, bending over to talk to me. Her personality and tone seem so out of place here. She sounds like a generally happy person, bubbly even.
“She’s also very talkative,” The Warden finished.
“Oh sorry, I’ve just never killed a Paladin this small and cute before! He even has his own little cape! OH MY GOSH! He’s like a little superhero!”
“Someone seems excited,” Father said.
“Sorry, sorry,” Mira said, taking a few steps back.
“No one will be killing this young Paladin,” The Warden said. “Instead we’ll be helping The Rogue transport this little one, and hopefully replicate the process of favorable ordination. Sangiria is more than able to escort him down, if that’s okay with you that is?”
“Oh I’m okay with that. Hey try not to hurt her too much kid,” Father said, nudging me and laughing.
“If he’s this important I’ll make sure no one else harms him,” Sangiria said stepping forward. “This is my word Rogue.” She put a fist over her chest and bowed.
“Oooo, that’s really serious for her. The lil guy will definitely be safe,” Mira said.
“Well that’s all I need. Actually it’d be nice ta’ know your name as well miss Warden,” Father said.
“Oh apologies, I’m Madame Edale, warden of facility 231220. Nothing too special but it’s enough for my title, for now.”
“A titled and all you got was a facility? Surely there’s more to you than this facility?,” Father pressed.
“Well,” Madame Edale started, “I was lucky enough to be gifted a child as well. Truthfully, she’s a bit more than I was expecting.”
“Oh I’m sure you’ll grow more fond of the child as time passes,” Father said while walking away. “Oh and Sangiria, don’t release that silencer. I really don’t feel like dealing with that right now.” Father and Madame Edale continued toward the main building, before I started to walk forward Sangiria drew her sword and put it in front of me. The shortsword is inches away from my face and gives off heat like a fireplace. I look up at Sangiria to see a tint of bright red in her eyes.
“You’re not going that way, little one. You’ll be staying in the cells,” she said with her voice monotone.
“Hey now ya’ think you’ll need help? I don’t goin’ underground if it means being with this wittle cutie!,” Mira said, patting my head.
“Thank you but your assistance is unnecessary for this. Besides, I gave my word that he’ll be unharmed.”
“What! I wouldn’t hurt ‘em…much,” Mira said giggling.
“Right then, come young Paladin.” Sangiria pointed her sword to the wall on my left. It looks like there’s a cellar door there, that’ll be the underground Mira referred to. The cells down there should hold more prisoners than just me. I began walking towards the cellar doors taking in as much as I could to help escape from this route. It seems pretty close to the main gate so as long as we can keep that drawbridge lowered we should be able to send people out in groups. It’ll be up to Father to deal with whoever’s in those towers but maybe there'll be some guards down here I can handle myself. Approaching the wall I notice a long crack in it that I hope isn’t aesthetic. Father or Ānanda could use that weak spot to create a hole in the wall, the only problem then is the minefield and the living barbed wire. We finally arrive in front of the cellar doors as Sangiria comes around me and opens them. She motions for me to go down. I start down the stairs and about half way down I can hear the clang of the doors closing. They look wood but sound metal? I’m just going to ignore that for now. I stop at the bottom of the stairs, this place looks completely different from upstairs. It’s one long corridor of unpainted cement walls and hanging lights with a soft hum. And I have a feeling that the gate at the end of this hallway is another concealment.
“Forward,” Sangiria said from behind me.
Walking down this short hallway somehow feels exhausting. I feel like I’m close to being out of breath but I swear we only walked seven or eight yards. Something’s wrong, I slow down as we approach the gate trying to take a closer look at the walls. It looks like normal concrete but makes me feel uneasy for some reason. I stop in front of the guard at the gate and look up at him. He looks similar to the demon at the cliff too except he has an eyepatch over his left eye, I’m starting to think every demon looks like this. He looks confused looking at me.
“What’s wrong with this one?,” he asked, shifting his attention to Sangiria.
“He’s a young Paladin, the wards are weakening him. It should be easy for you to move him at this point, take him to section C.”
“Alright,” he replied. He turned around then pulled me in front of him.
“And try not to hurt him too much, Warden’s orders.”
“Tch, whatever, he won’t bleed,” he said. “J, rotate bot, T.” Whatever he said caused the gate to open revealing prison cells all along the left side. Somehow I wasn’t able to see any of this through the bars of that gate. I look at the right wall, it’s the same gray concrete except it has a light red bar running from this gate to the next. The bar almost looks like a pipe or metallic cable. To my right above the red bar is the letter “K”. “Let’s keep movin’,” the guard said, pushing me forward. As we walk to the next gate I try to glance into each cell we pass but it’s difficult to peer into the slits of the steel doors while walking. We soon end up at the next gate, well its more of a door given I’m unable to see through it. These wards aren't helping either but at least their effect on me isn't worsening. “T, pass, G.” The gate opens revealing a similar scene but inverted. The red bar is now on the left with the cells on the right. There’s two more guards here, they look like twins, both have a slim build. Their matching light armor leaves their stomach, arms, and lower legs exposed. They also have the letter C neatly branded on the top corner of their chestpiece. Both also have a whip on their hip. At first they both looked at me with confusion on their faces and then looked up at my escort.
“What’re we supposed to do with this?” they asked in unison.
“For now just cage it,” he answered. “Sangiria told me we’re ordered not to hurt ‘em. Kinda pointless if ya’ ask me.”
“So it’s special, we’ll keep it away from the other one,” they replied. “C’mon then.” The guard on my right started walking ahead of me while the one on the left pushed me forward, no doubt they’ll maintain this formation until we get to my cell. We’re walking a little slower than I was in the previous corridor, maybe I can actually look inside these cells. The doors here are further apart, they also look more like rusted iron. The doors are further apart, the cells must be bigger. Something’s up, I’m starting to feel my strength come back. Are the wards weaker this far in? Maybe I’m getting used to them but that’d defeat the purpose. The guard in front of me stops and reaches up.
“Z, jun miss.”
A large chest lowers from the ceiling in front of him. He opens it before it reaches the ground but it's still lowering.
“That’s cool…” Wait, did I say that out loud. The guard turned around with a smirk that immediately faded once he saw something behind me. He tried to grab his whip but went flying backwards with a javelin in his chest. He didn’t stop, the wall just caught him with a loud boom. I immediately summon my blades and turn around. Ānanda standing behind arm still extended from the throw, past her I can see the other two guards on the ground. Her focus quickly shifts to me and her expression changes to one of shock.
“How’d you do that?” she asked, straightening herself.
“Do what?,” I asked, relaxing.
“You’re, uh. Y’know what, nevermind, just hold still.” She writes a weird “L” looking sigil with some dots around it in the air then pushes it towards me. It turns to mist as it hits my face and feels like little rain droplets falling into me. I immediately feel weightless again and only now notice that my blades had some weight when I summoned them.
“So what’d that do?,” I asked.
“It should have nullified the wardings effects on you. The wardings here ensure Paladins are unable to focus their divinity.”
“Oh okay, so uh, what now?”
“Well did you notice anyone on your way in here?,” she asked while walking towards the door closest to her. She stood on her toes to peek inside the cell. “This one’s empty.”
“I didn’t see anyone but this is the place they wanted to put me so maybe the Paladin is here.”
“Nah, he’s above ground. I saw him on my way in, he should be able to fight which’ll be interesting to say the least.”
“Maybe he’ll help us.”
“Maybe he won’t.” We both laugh. “Okay so I’ll go this direction,” Ānanda said pointing behind me. “You go the other way and be careful when going to the next section. I didn’t drop the concealments here.”
“Gotcha.” I drop my blades and when they hit the ground they poof out of existence in a cloud of white mist. The best part, when I put my blades away this way, it barely makes a sound. Took me months to get that right. I go to the next cell and through the slit in the door, nothing. I checked the next three cells but they were all empty. It’s a relief that no one’s down here getting tortured but I’m getting worried that all the prisoners may be upstairs. If so, it’ll make this rescue much more complicated. Okay, one more cell than I’ll move onto the next corridor.
I peek inside and see nothing but this cell is darker than the others. The corner specifically is like a black spot on a painting. Something’s wrong with that dark corner. Looking at it I can almost make out a figure in the shadows. It turns around, I can see eyes in the darkness. The left eye is a golden brown but the right is a deep blue. The figure crawls into the light maintaining eye contact with me. It’s a girl. Her hair is a silky black and she looks bruised on her shoulder and arms. There’s marks on her suggesting she’s been lashed recently. This isn’t right, she’s not supposed to be here, no one is supposed to be here. It doesn’t matter, if she’s here we need to save her. I try to move but I’m paralyzed. No, I have to move. I can feel myself straining just to attempt to lift my arm. I don’t know what’s happening but I’m not moving.
“Who are. Who are you? W-where am I?,” she asked. Her voice is weak, frail, it’s as if talking is enough to make her cry. She looked at the ground for a moment, “who am I?”
None of this is right. None of this should be happening, the cell was supposed to be empty, we were supposed to go up and help but we’d be too late and Father… I don’t know what’s going on but I somehow know her name, Iris.
“Iris, you’re Iris.”
She looked up at me again, this time with blood going down her face and just avoiding her eye. She looks calmer than before but the scars on her seem more prominent than before. I’m only now noticing the rags that’re supposed to be her clothes. She’s not supposed to be here but it looks like she is, and I’m powerless to help her. No, I don’t accept that. I close my eyes and focus my power. If I can’t help her as a Paladin then maybe I can help her as something else. I open my eyes to see the door gone. Her face is painted with shock that immediately turns to relief. She’s not afraid? It doesn’t matter, if the door’s gone then maybe I can move. With what feels like more strength than I’ve ever used in my life I’m finally able to move. And just as I lift my arm, everything goes black.
“Thank you.”
~ET Lavillis