The realization that having the final word may have been bitter-sweet had begun to dawn on Solon, as he sat on a low brick wall near a well at the center of the market. Clearly, people like Vur'z and Sheela, those that spoke English, were hard to come across. On top of the language barrier, the mercenary had another issue. Money. His world or this one, coins were words everyone knew. And he had none of those either.
He tried to hire a guide or ask for directions out of the desert, but the mouths of the villagers were as dry as his pockets. Roaming around the village, trying to avoid attention while pondering his next move, he noticed a good number of people going in and out of a small saloon styled building. The words written on the sign in front were unintelligible to Solon, but from his knowledge of this world, the chances of it being a guild or an adventurer agency of some sort were pretty high.
Pushing the doors open, strolling into the main room with the stride of an Old Western gunslinger, Solon threw away any attempts of staying under the radar.
Every head turned to him, analyzing and studying the man that walked through the door, eyes lingering on his prosthetic left arm. The soldier walked over to what he had assumed was the main desk, and before he could even open his mouth to speak, the beastfolk woman on the other side interrupted him.
"Igilin! Abatu, pa'ta marez lof." She spoke, he ears perking up and her tail moving around welcomingly.
She was a jackal like creature, from what Solon could tell and her hyper behavior confirmed that.
Her voice was high pitched, assaulting the man’s ears with a relentless slew of words he could not understand. The speed of her talk took him down memory lane, reminding him of a toy phone he had a kid, one that made random noises when he'd press a button or say "I love you" at 10 times the speed.
The guild woman kept on talking, now pulling out charts and several guide books, pointing her clawed finger and flipping pages. Solon exhaled loudly, before giving her the thumbs up with his good hand and turning to leave, when something caught his eye. A bullet board on the other side of the room, covered all over with countless quest requests and offers. One paper stood out from the bunch. A large drawing of a beastfolk child, along with several scribbled under which was a nice coin offer. To the mercenary, it was common knowledge that two things were universal on any world. Bounty posters and missing people posters. And this one was of the latter.
He pulled the poster off the board, looking over it once more. The offer indeed was enough to entice any man, just by the number of zeros written on the page. Solon looked up at the sky as if thanking God for the intervention. He'd seed the person on the poster before, the screaming beastfolk boy that Vur'z was transporting in his caravan. Clearly whoever the boy was taken from would pay a pretty penny to have him back. Something did bother him about the situation however. With an offer so lucrative, the was no chance the poster would be left hung for that long without anyone taking on the bounty. Vur'z sons were strong young men, but they were far from an issue when it came to a group of adventurers. That odd suspicion was further solidified by all the stares the man felt drilling into his back. The guild patrols gave him dirty looks as he rolled up the poster and stuck it under his cloak, in his back pocket and went back out on the street to find Vur'z.
Solon wandered the village until sundown, until he finally stumbled across the resting spot for trade caravans.
He was hungry and quite in a sour mood, walking over to the wagons without a word.
Sedef spotted him first, sending his 3 brothers to go and fetch their father while he tried to deal with the mercenary.
"Solon! Nice seeing you again so soon." Sedef said, walking over to the man.
"Where's your old man Sedef?" Solon asked, walking past the guard.
"He went to fetch supplies from the market. Shouldn't be long before he's back." The young man replied.
"Would you like to wait for him here?"
The young man felt uneasy, his own inability to simply tell the mercenary to piss off didn't sit well with him.
He was the best hand to hand combatant in his little village, but even with that, Sedef knew that if he were to swing at the soldier, it would end badly. So he swallowed his pride and decided on a more friendly approach.
"Yeah, if you don't mind." Solon sat down, his stomach growling with hunger.
The two men sat in awkward silence for a while, before finally Vur'z appeared around the corner.
"Ah, Solon. I see Lady Sheela is not with you. What can I do you for?" Spoke the slaver.
With his mechanical arm, the soldier pulled out the poster and showed it to Vur'z. The other one seemed oddly relieved.
"Oh, you're here for that? Sad to say I already handed him over."
Solon sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration.
"So, where is it?"
"Come have dinner with us. If you're serious about getting the kid, you'll need some info about where he's been taken and by who first." Vur'z patted the man on the back, inviting him to the wagon.
***
"What's the situation?"
The elven scout turned around swiftly, almost jumping out of his own skin from fright.
"My Lady." He placed his hand on his chest to calm his heartbeat. "I beg of you, do not sneak up on me that way."
General Eirlys hid a smile, before focusing her eyes towards the squad of invaders walking through the woods, setting up a defense perimeter. The Vatur kingdom has been struggling with containing the invading humans, especially when it came to portal control. Having multiple wild portal gates just outside the borders of the elven forest made it very hard to prevent humans from breaching from the other side.
Countless skirmishes had broken out since the humans first captured the largest portal and make it their outposts. The Iron Fortress that blew a hole through the, now almost fully healed, Home Tree still stood tall and was heavily protected. The smaller gates were less guarded so the elves managed to take those back within a few months, as the invading murder apes seemed not too keen on dying over those strategic points.
However, it seemed that the enemy had now set their sight on the second largest gate and begun turning it into an outpost. The worked tirelessly, day and night, fending off occasional elven raid parties sent by the Vatur kingdom with ease. The motion detecting turrets proved to be the biggest issue that elves could not overcome. As soon as they would get within range, even under the cover of night, the machines would mercilessly shower them with bullets until they were gunned down.
Desperate, Princess Claudia requested the presence of the kingdoms most decorated general, Eirlys Atteris. A warrior known for her outstanding strategic prowess, merciless approach to combat and the ability to turn even the spineless of elves into soldiers worthy of serving the kingdom. Within weeks of her arrival, she managed to push the expansion of the murder ape outpost back within range of their turrets and lock them in a stalemate. That gave the elven troops enough morale boost to believe that victory was possible. However, to the general, the behavior of the enemy told a completely opposite story. The human invaders seemed too content to stay within the confines of the stalemate and not expand the outpost further, as they have been doing thus far. Even their establishing of defense perimeters seemed to be oriented around doubling, if not tripling the defenses of the already established outposts borders rather than a preparation for a counter assault.
"They seem to be doubling the defenses again. This is the third day in the row that they turn the portal on. The reinforcements coming through however aren't really numerous. If they are mounting a counter attack, they will need a lot more manpower than this, even with their equipment, to breach into the forest." The scout replied.
"Something doesn't sit right with me about this entire thing." Eirlys thought to herself.
The humans seemed to be moving around, tinkering on some stationary devices, hooking them up to the portal. Most of them that came through the gate didn't even seem like military personnel, if uniform and lack of weaponry was something to based such an opinion on.
"My Lady." A tap on the shoulder interrupted the general from her train of thought.
"Permission to speak freely?"
"Go ahead."
"I am Amara Lindwysp, I served under Lord Eothen and Lady Claudia." Said the scout.
"And?" Replied the general.
"I have seen this before. The night his Majesty lost his life and her Majesty her legs." Amara continued.
"These people aren't soldiers, they are..." She searched her mind for the right word. "Engineers."
"Engineers?" The other scout butted in.
"Yes. That's what the murder apes call them. They are in charge of the equipment. They were there the night the Iron Fortress breached the gate."
"The Iron Fortress..." Mumbled the general, turning her gaze back to the encampment, observing the humans work and set up various equipment.
"But this gate is too small for another Iron Fortress to pass through."
"That may be so my Lady, but the devices they are setting up are designed to generate massive amounts of energy to keep the gate open for an extended period of time. I cannot be certain what they are up to, but they are priming that portal to be open for a while. Divines only know what sort of contraption they plan on ushering through it." Amara said.
The look on the scout’s face gave the general everything she needed to know about the gravity of the situation. There was not a single lie in the girl’s words. Something like this should not be dismissed.
"So, what are we to do? You've been there. Tell me." Eirlys said, catching the girl off guard.
"Oh uhm. I don't believe I am fit to advise you on what our best course of action is my Lady." The elf replied, losing her composure for a second.
"Not the time for humility or modesty Amara Lindwysp!" The general said coldly. "You've been there. You best know what went wrong with the assault on the Iron Fortress. Now, for the sake of the kingdom and your comrades, speak."
Amara took a deep breath, steeling herself.
"The devices that shoot, they follow movements. Even through rain and fog. Illusion spells don't work them either. If we get in range, they will mow us down before we even can get off a single arrow."
"That I am well aware of. Tell me something that I can actually use."
"Yes, yes, my apologies. Hitting them with explosive spells from outside of their range should do the trick, as they do not appear to track any movement that isn't actual enemy troops. They do not seem to be activated by arrows that fly past them, nor birds or any other critters I've noticed move within their range." The scout continued, trying her best to remember everything she knows about the enemy.
"Devices they are setting up, they're the ones keeping the portal gate open for a long time. If we take out those, it should close before they pull whatever they plan to, through the gate. And I don't see..." She focused her eyes on the encampment, as if searching for something amidst the enemy.
"...any warhounds."
"Warhounds?" Eirlys raised an eyebrow quizzically.
"Yes, my Lady. It was a one-armed, one-eyed human that ended the life of Prince Eothen that night. It had a metal left arm. Apparently, those soldiers are called war hounds and are here to exterminate the local population before the larger troops can move in."
"Gods, what a barbaric species. You'd think them demons in human skin, rather than actual humans." The other scout said in shock.
"I see. Do not omit anything scout." The general added.
"That is all I know my Lady." Amara bowed her head.
***
"So, the gladiatorial arena?" Solon asked, leaning against the wall of the wagon.
With his stomach full of food, the mood of the man improved significantly. Vur'z nodded.
"Yes. But don't think you can just whisk the kid away. The arena is situated under the village and it's a pay to enter type of deal. Steep price indeed." Explained the slaver.
"And you, my friend, stick out like a sore thumb in these parts. There isn't a single human in this village, much less one with your description. Whispers are going around already, about you taking the poster and accepting the quest to find the missing kid by doing so."
The human nodded, rubbing his beard with his good hand.
"And the event orchestrator has a lot of financial influence over the adventurers that are regulars in this village. So, keep your head on a swivel else you might a dagger to the back." The old man warned.
"I see. Well, Vur'z, I'd best be heading now. I'd have for you and your sons to catch strays because of me. Just point me in the right direction and I'll be on my way."
Solon got up, shook the man’s hand and dusted off his pants and cloak.
"They are at the Crooked Claw's inn. In the basement, that's where the underground arena is and also where the gladiators are being kept." Vur'z replied, shaking the human’s hand in return.
"I wish you the best of luck."
As solon turned to leave, Kopak stopped him.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
"Here, take this. It's not much, but it'll be of use to you, I hope."
The slaver trader’s son handed an old hatchet to Solon. A simple bone handle with an obsidian blade.
The mercenary accepted the gift and placed it on his belt, it would be of use more than just to rely on hand-to-hand combat and his metal arm.
"Thanks kid. You boys don't give your old man too hard of a time. So long."
With that, the soldier headed down the street and disappeared out of sight once he rounded a corner.
***
The entire village seemed devoid of life once the sun went down. As the ringed moon illuminated the empty streets, Solon could not help but feel watched. He did not even try to confirm if the feeling was true, knowing that playing oblivious would give his stalker more window to slip up. Following directions given by Vur'z, he eventually found Crooked Claw's Inn. The place was crowded, mostly with adventurers and some village folk, though something about them seemed odd. A good number of them, including the barmaids, seemed to survey the surroundings at regular intervals, as if on the lookout for something.
Thanks to his left eye implant, Solon didn't have to risk getting too close to the windows or doors to see inside, choosing to instead survey from the roof of a small house across the street. The front door was out of the question. Solon waited for the crowd inside to slowly get drunk, before making his move. He snuck behind Inn, slipping inside through the back entrance. Even the vigilant adventurers and barmaids have dulled their senses with hours of alcohol and loud music, so Solon did not have to be too stealthy. As long as he was not in direct line of sight, he didn't have to worry too much. The two cooks he found in the kitchen, since that's the room that the back door lead directly towards, did not seem to care about him being there. One of them sat on the floor, seemingly exhausted, while the other struggled to finish the few remaining orders for the intoxicated, rowdy patrons in the main dining hall of the inn.
Hiding his metal arm under his cloak and his shining left eye under the hood, Solon put his best mute impression, mumbling and making incoherent speech that meant nothing, while waving his right hand in a fighting motion. The cook on the floor took some time to understand what the man was trying to say, before figuring out that the stranger was asking for the entrance to the underground arena.
Not wanting to deal with whatever was wrong with the cloaked lunatic in front of them, the cooks simply pointed to the door furthest from them on the left. It was evident they weren't paid enough to care about anything besides cooking. Solon, still engrossed in his acting attempt, thanked them with more mumbling, before rushing to the door and opening it swiftly, disappearing into the hallway on the other side, before any alarm bells went off in the heads of the cooks.
Following the long, thin, barely lit hallway, the mercenary soon found himself in a large room, looking very similar to a prison cell block. The smell of filth and moisture wafted from every direction, assaulting his nostrils. He spat on the ground, so the smell does not linger in mouth, before proceeding to sneak through the almost pitch-black room. Groaning, sniffling and occasional cough would come from different cells, though the majority of them seemed empty. Four torches attempted to light up the cell room, but their fires were dimmed, at the bring of being put out. Not that the darkness was an issue for the soldier, the implant that was replacing his left eye allowed him to see just fine in the dark.
Most cells were occupied by bones and corpses, emaciated bodies that withered away from thirst or starvation. Those that still had living prisoners inside, were occupied by beastfolk. The majority of them being of adult age and in no shape to do anything. Even his presence didn't seem to elicit any reaction from them. What was done to them, he had no idea, but they had clearly given up on life.
"This explains the lack of guards in this area. Even if these guys weren't caged, they still wouldn't even try to escape." Solon thought to himself.
Sounds of cheering and yelling came from outside the room. Finding the door, the soldier peeked through the doorway. There it was, the gladiatorial arena Vur'z spoke about. A pit, lined with something akin to barber wire, with two combatants, clearly beast folk, engaged in bloody hand to hand combat against one another. The seats placed in rows all around the pin were filled to the brim. Solon could recognize a few faces in the crowd, some from market and others from the adventurer’s guild.
With each blow exchanged, the crowd cheered and shouted. Coins pouches were passed around as the spectators made bets who would win. Women, barely dressed, walked around the crowd either passing out drinks or collecting coin from the bettors. Behind the bleachers and the crowd, several more cells lined the walls. Solon crouched, moving slow and low as to not get spotted.
The entire gladiatorial arena had a simplistic designed, working the mercenary's favor. A single hallway with cells lining the walls on one side, filled with that night's combatants, and a wall up to hip height on the other side, allowing a partially obstructed view of the main arena in the center. A single source of light hung above the arena, being the single source of light, not counting a few dim torches on the hallway’s walls.
The bleachers wrapped around the pit where gladiators fought. Since all fighters were beastfolk, a ceiling of heavy metal bars was placed where the top of the arena pit met the bottom of the bleachers, to prevent any attempts at escaping of the gladiators from the pit and attacking the audience.
The ring of bleachers served as a divide between the arena pit and the cell hallway. The majority of the guards were nearest to the pit and audience, allowing Solon to sneak through the hallway without much issue, as long as he kept low and quiet.
The battle that was taking place below, from what he could hear at least, was a brutal one. Most likely fought to the death or very close to it. Growling, squealing and cheering all mixed together into noise that perfectly portrayed the brutality of the event. He looked through the bars of each cell, using his eye to quickly scan the captives inside, looking for the kid from the poster. Several cells and still no luck.
"Solon. Pssst SO-LON!" Came an all too familiar voice from the right of him.
Solon snapped his head to towards the source of the voice. In one of the smaller cells stood Sheela.
The mercenary snorted, stifling a laugh.
"The almighty Dune Queen. I did not know followers get recruited from inside locked cells." He whispered.
She made a sour face at his mocking statement, before flipping him the bird. Another thing with universal meaning between both worlds.
"What are you doing here?" Sheela asked, as he snuck closer to the cell.
"I'm looking for that kid Vur'z was hauling. He's got a pretty decent price for his safe return." Solon replied, quietly pulling out the poster with the kids face on it.
"Oh, and here I thought you've become a do-gooder for the sanctity of your soul." The former genie commented, before pushing her hand through the bars of the cell and pointing down the hallway, in the direction Solon had come from.
"The kids over there, he's been roughed up quite a bit, since he didn't want to quiet down. He's still too small for fights, so he's not going in the pit tonight."
Solon nodded, rolling up the missing poster and putting back in his pocket. He turned around to head over to the kid’s cell.
"Thanks Sheela."
Before he could properly make even a step, two long arms grabbed him by the cloak and turned him around, gripping him by the collar and holding him still.
"Solon, I swear to the 7 divines, if you don't get me out of this cell, I will strangle you to death with my bare hands, right now." Sheela looked down at the man’s smug expression, speaking fast in a single breath, trying to remain whispering despite the desire to obliterate the soldier on the spot. Her golden eyes shining from the darkness, if looks could kill, Solon would be in the great beyond already.
Thanks to his implant eye, the mercenary could see the vein popping on her forehead as she glared at him.
"Alright, alright. I'm just playing with you." The shit eating grin consumed even more of his face, as the smugness in his expression threatened to reach critical levels.
The former genie let go of his cloak with an exasperated sigh.
A frown took place a smirk use to be as he examined the lock that held the cell closed.
He checked Sheela, from head to toe, making sure she's not in any shape that would hinder mobility.
"What? Now's not the time to be fawning over my looks Tin man." She scoffed.
"I'm checking if you are chained to the wall or anything that could prevent you from running. I can get you out, but it'll be loud. So I'll need you to send it as soon as I open the door."
Solon explained, grabbing the cell door with his left hand. He looked up at Sheela, who took a step back and nodded.
His mechanical arm whirred softly before amping up. In a single powerful pull, the old lock gave way and the cell doors loudly swung open while creaking, before hitting bars and making even more noise.
Sheela, the second the door banged against the bars, took off running down the hallway in the direction Solon had come from, with the mercenary hot on her heels.
"Four cells down from the entrance door!" She said, swinging the entrance door open and disappearing behind it as Solon kept on running past it towards the cell where the kid was being held.
The audience caught wind of the noise and so did the guards, so the mercenary had to work fast.
Grabbing the cell doors and fully tearing them off the hinges, Solon got inside the cell.
One quick look to confirm he didn't get the wrong kid and he was got to go.
The beastfolk boy on the other hand, did not share Solon's sentiment when it came to a quick escape.
Believing the mercenary to simply be another one of the guards or trainers, he flew into a rage, hissing and screaming at the man, while flailing his arms, prepubescent claws out and ready to cut.
Chanting the same sleep spell incantation, he heard from Vur'z, the soldier approached the hysterical boy.
Putting the little beast to sleep with a non-effective sleeping spell and a very effective right hook, Solon tossed the knocked-out boy over his shoulder and dashed outside the cell and towards the door, stopping just long enough to throw the cell door he had previously torn off, at the approaching guards.
***
General Eirlys and her troops were already cutting it close with their planned assault. The portal gate had been open without interruption for almost half a day, with only human engineers running in and out of the portal. Observing them gave some insight at the gates themselves and how they can be used. Watching the same men go in and out multiple times, before suddenly becoming dizzy and throwing up, had Amara realizing that there is a limit to how many times one can go through a portal in a short span of time before experiencing negative effects.
The elves waited for the cover of night to launch their attack, but tension was high. No one knew what the humans were priming the portal for, but as the number of engineers reduced and the outpost seemed to finish with all necessary preparations, Eirlys understood that it all comes down to this moment.
With everyone in position, arrows at the ready, the general focused her magic. Her arrow pulled back as the head of the arrow began to glow while Eirlys chanted to herself. A sharp inhale and the arrow was let loose.
The success, entirely dependent on scout Amara's information, was evident. Striking its mark, which was one of the human motion sensor turrets, the arrow exploded, rendering the device useless.
Humans sprung to action immediately, as the elven troops rushed out the forest, getting in range to let their arrows loose. Eirlys primed a second arrow, same spell, same target, another turret down. With arrow fired, her spell casting and firing increased in speed, taking down the turrets before they could be moved or properly fortified. As the last of them went up in flames, she rushed out of cover to join her troops in storming the outpost.
The generators that powered the gate and kept the portal open were heavily fortified. Her arrows, even with explosive enchantments could not leave even a single dent on them, let alone get to what's inside. So, the second option was to storm and take over the outpost, killing anyone who tries to get in from the other side, until they figure out how to disable the machines keeping the portal opened.
Caught by surprise, humans struggled to ward off the sudden elven attack. Their over reliance on the now destroyed turrets evidently proved to be a massive flaw. However, the elves were still going up against guns, and despite having the strength in numbers and the dark night on their side, not a single one of them has yet managed to get across the defensive walls of the outpost without being gunned down immediately.
Volley after volley of arrows rained down on the outpost, pushing the humans all the way back to the portal gate. This seemed like a victory for elves at last. That was what the general wanted to believe as her troops finally broke through the defense and stormed the outpost. But they were too late.
The portal rippled, as a monstrosity of metal came through it on four legs. Looking at it, Eirlys thought it looked like a spider or a crab of sorts. Then it came, the sound nightmares were made off. The spinning of metal, faster and faster, before gunfire echoed through the night. Not single shots, not burst fire, but a continuous shower of high caliber rounds tore the elves like they were leaves.
"FALL BACK! THEY BREACHED THE PORTAL!" The general screamed, leaping back over the wall, as the second spider like machine started crossing the portal from the other side. On each side a minigun, similar to the ones the turrets had, but larger in comparison. Turrets would gun down their targets, but these would tear them to chunks. Whirring and clamoring with each step it took, the machine moved closer. The general focused her magic, firing enchanted arrow after arrow at the unholy contraption, but her attempts yielded no results.
She finally leapt back over the outpost wall and joined what remained of her troops, as they ran back to the woods for safety, without any semblance or strategy. Just a mad dash in hopes of saving their heads.
The giant metal insect followed, walking through the stone wall with ease. Once more it opened fire, this time aiming at the cover they were running towards. Bullets tore through trees with ease, crushing any hope the elves had when it came to surviving this ordeal. Eirlys stood before it, aiming her arrow at the machine, one last ditch attempt to buy her comrades time to escape.
As the second walking nightmare began breaching the portal, the general experienced overwhelming despair grip her entire being for the first time in her long life. Guns stopped firing for a moment to cool down, the heavy metal leg of the machine raised high and ready to squash her. She fired arrow after arrow, fear and helplessness sinking deeper into her heard every time an arrow would bounce off the hard shell of the machine.
"This is it." She thought.
"I hope at least some of my troops escaped."
Guns sped their rotation up again, preparing to leave only examples, not survivors. Eirlys screamed in fury as the leg of the machine began to drop down on her.
"ENOUGH!" A voice boomed through the night, shaking the ground and the general to her core.
The machine stopped, just for a second, before being hit from the side by a massive rock shaped like a cone. It toppled over, its mechanical cries of death echoing for a while longer as it spilled its black, flammable blood and desperately tried to get back up. Eirlys turned to first to her right, her heart overcome with relief as she witnessed all her troops, alive and well, kneeling on the ground in reverence.
Turning to her left, she dropped to her knees to join them.
"Your Holiness."
Night became as bright as day, while a single person slowly made its way to the outpost. Her entire presence exuding an aura of power and wisdom worth millennia. Glowing like the brightest star, the leader of the High Elves came to the general's rescue in their time of need.
Simply extending her arm and pointing at the portal gate, then clenching her fist while turning her hand, the portal closed, cutting off the second machine that was slowly getting through in half. The energy feedback made the generators explode. Still, despite such an overwhelming show of force, the remaining humans in the outpost still opened fire on her.
The High Elf was not amused in the slightest.
"Perish from my sight, vile vermin." She hissed, before a ball of fire dropped onto the outpost, swallowing everyone in alive whole.
"On your feet General. I have much to discuss with your king, take me to him." The radiant woman ordered.
***
Solon caught up with Sheela, as the pair now ran through the empty village streets with a furious mob of mercenaries, adventurers and village folk coming after them.
"What are we to do? Can't run forever." The soldier said, rounding another corner in hoped of losing their pursuers.
"To the caravan resting area, that might be our only escape." The genie said, grabbing him by the cloak and running with him down yet another alley.
"What happened to the kid?"
"He'll be fine. Just a little headache when he wakes up." Solon assured her, as the boy dangled off his shoulder like a bag of potatoes while he ran.
Finally making it to the rest area, they hopped in the first wagon that seemed empty and was actually still attached to the horse like creatures that pulled it.
"Hiyah! Mush! Move, go. Cmon!" Solon yelled, pulling and moving the reigns that controlled the animals, but none of them bothered to move.
"Ooooh fuuuck!" The mercenary looked over his shoulder at the mob approaching.
Sheela grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back into the wagon as she grabbed the reigns.
A deep breath, focusing as best possible to channel her magic, the feeling still foreign and alien to her.
"Ahk'Am! Akash, jan!" The forger genie shouted.
Like possessed, the animals jumped to their feet and began to move. A light jog turned into a mad gallop, kicking up a cloud of dust. Solon ducked as daggers and bricks flew past the wagon, thrown by the furious arena mob that was now left behind, as the wagon disappeared from sight, heading towards the desert.
"Where do we go now?" Solon asked.
"I don't know. We got out of there safe. As for where next, let's ask the kid when he wakes up." Sheela sighed and sat down.