They reached the broken tower, and when Kinari glanced up she noticed Darius was perched on the top of the tower, half hidden behind rubble and crouched on the side still hidden by the morning shadow, which made him hard to spot. But there weren’t any other buildings nearby tall enough for one to reach where he was, and no visible way to climb there either.
They hurried to the basement entrance and knocked twice, getting three knocks back, the sign that things were safe on both sides, and after opening the trapdoor they climbed down the ladder to see the basement filled with preparations and activity.
Everyone had their armor on and most were either checking their weapons, pacing nervously or quietly talking. Demian sat in a corner of the room, the only one without weapons or armor, and drummed his fingers on his lap, turning his head whenever an unfamiliar noise happened close to him.
“Glad you are back,” said Abraxas as he approached them. “Vladimir, go put on your armor and prepare yourself. Kinari, I need you to answer a few of my questions.”
Vladimir nodded and walked away quickly, while Kinari looked around with increasing confusion.
“Alright! Anyone mind telling me why the fuck are we all still here?” She asked. “While a bunch of guards and soldiers relax on our fucking dooorstep?”
“We were waiting for you to return,” he replied. “It also doesn’t pay to do sudden moves when we do not know the area. Would there be any other reason why soldiers would gather around in this neighbourhood?”
“No! They’re clearly up to something!” Kinari hissed. “This is all really fucking suspicious! Are they really searching for us?”
“They might be, or so says Darius and I trust his eyes.” Abraxas looked grim. “Did you secure passage for us out of town?”
“Yeah, sure,” she rubbed a hand over her face. “We can leave the city tonight, but not if we have a bunch of soldiers on our tail! We have to get out of here, fast!”
“Agreed. But we are not leaving without a good plan. What can you tell me of the area surrounding us?”
“Mostly poor houses, a few ruins like these here and there, from the old city battlements. But none much better than this, I guarantee it. Ugh… The river is a few streets down, but I don’t think that will help us much.”
“Hmm… Is there any place in town where we would be safe from the soldiers? A place where they are seen with animosity or a place they are unfamiliar with?”
“Maybe the militia wouldn’t go in certain neighbourhoods, but with that many soldiers?” Kinari frowned. “No… There’s no - Oh wait! Shit. There’s still one place, but… Ugh.”
“What is it?” Abraxas crossed his arms while Kinari seemed to waver on whether to tell him or not. She finally sighed and relented.
“The old city sewers, beneath the city. There’s a few places you can enter and leave spread throughout the city, and it’s a maze down there. The militia and soldiers wouldn’t go down there, but neither would anyone sane. It’s a bad idea!” She said, making a face.
“I see. Is it dangerous?” Asked Abraxas.
“There’s goblins living in the sewer. Loyalists that still don’t accept human rule,” said Kinari, gritting her teeth. “These aren’t your average goblin slaves mining salt or cleaning shit off the streets. These guys will shank any human they can get their hands on and then slink away. They can see in the dark, are built for sneaking, and there’s loads of them down there. And the place is a maze, so we’d be lost and on their home field. Going into the sewers would be jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.”
“Hmm. But would it be worse than getting into a confrontation with Adran soldiers?”
“Shit.. You got a point,” she grumbled.
“Have you ever gone into these sewers before?”
“A couple of times,” admitted Kinari. “Boss Nelos has a couple of hidden caches in the sewers, specifically because nobody else goes into them. He beefs with the goblins now and then, and I was in a skirmish… Not the best time of my life, fighting goblin fanatics in barely-lit tunnels.”
“This might be our only option,” said Abraxas. “And if we enter the sewers, can you navigate us to another exit? Preferably one that would not be guarded by anyone.”
“That place is a maze to me as much as everyone else. If we go in we will get lost.”
“I see,” said Abraxas. He frowned for a moment while lost in thought. “It appears the sewers will be a last resort then. Unless there are any other options, our only other choice is to break through the guards and lose anyone chasing us in a crowded place.”
“Uhh, break through the guards?” Kinari looked nervous. “Those guys have proper armor and weapons! They have muskets! Not saying you guys aren’t strong, but it’s not going to be easy as...”
“We have our methods,” he replied. “And we certainly don’t plan on fighting all of them at once.”
Darius chose that moment to open the trapdoor,and blink into existence a few seconds later close to Abraxas. Kinari let out an alarmed “Damn!” and jumped back but Abraxas was far less caught by surprise and only raised an eyebrow.
“A number of detachments are marching towards our position right now, while still surrounding us. They are being very aggressive and targeting specifically this place, not the general area,” said Darius. He licked his lips and glanced at Demian before adding, “also, I noticed most of them are wearing cloth protection on their ears.”
Abraxas went pale, and after a moment of trying to restrain his anger, he slammed his fist on a nearby crate hard enough to make a loud noise. Everyone seemed surprised at this outburst, including Kinari who had never seen him express anything stronger than mild annoyance.
“Damn! Damn! They know too much!” He said, still clenching his fists. There was an uncomfortable silence, broken by Darius.
“Do you think there is a spy?”
In the second silent pause that followed many glanced at Kinari again, who bared her teeth in anger.
“Oh, not this again!” She hissed. “You all know - ”
“ENOUGH!”
Abraxas shouted that loud enough to draw the attention of everyone in the room. He drew a deep breath, and his expression returned to its usual, stoic self. When he turned to everyone in the room and spoke, his voice was precise, professional and calm.
“Now is not the time to doubt each other. We will soon be under attack. Pavlos, Darius, Kinari. You three will follow me to the ground level. We will fight the initial attackers. Vladimir and Hector. You two will stay here with His Lordship and protect him until it is safe upstairs. His Gift will be useless against our attackers, and we cannot put him at risk. Once we have cleared a path, you carry him upstairs and we flee together. We break through one of their line of defences and then flee to a place where we can lose them. I will need your knowledge of the area for that, Kinari.”
He turned to Kinari and added, “we might also have to use the sewers you mentioned, as a last resort. Be ready to direct us when the fighting is done.”
“So we’re really fighting them after all?” She made a grimace, as if swallowing a whole lemon. “Figures...”
Abraxas lowered his voice, “I know you are hurt, but we need your help.”
“You realize there’s a good chance people will die in this fight?” She asked, her voice also low. “You guys may have sworn to protect your master, but I’m just getting paid here. Y’know… Except I haven’t even got a single coin yet.”
“We have no other choice,” he replied. “However, I understand that you did not take a vow like the rest of us. If… If you would prefer to stay here with Vladimir and Hector, I will allow it.”
She was taken aback by this offer, before recovering and shaking her head with a chuckle. “Nah. I still accepted your contract, didn’t I? What, you think troll-girl will bail just because things got tough? I’ll see this through to the end.”
This caused Abraxas lips to twitch upwards in the tiniest hint of a smile. “Appreciated,” he said.
“Everyone.”
All in the room turned to the one who spoke: Demian, who was clutching Vladimir’s hand tightly while his head hung down.
“I’m sorry I can’t be of help,” he muttered. “Please… Be careful.”
“We will, Your Lordship.”
“They’re almost here!” Shouted Darius from the top of the ladder. Then he winked out of sight again while Abraxas, Pavlos and Kinari all scrambled to climb out of the basement and prepare for battle.
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The crisp morning air that greeted them as they climbed out of the basement was chilly, but refreshing and only slightly marred by the smells of the city surrounding them. The sky was now blue, with almost no clouds in sight, and they could hear in the distance the sounds of the city waking up, dogs barking and people hawking wares and walking to and from their various destinations. It would have been a good day, in any other circumstances.
But when Abraxas peeked from behind part of the ruined masonry of the tower ruins surrounding the basement entrance, he spotted groups of eight to ten soldiers marching towards them, close enough to see each had a frontline carrying halberds and a backline holding muskets. They approached from all four sides, where they would meet in the ruins where they now hid. There was nowhere to run and bloodshed was inevitable.
“Pavlos,” he said, making a gesture behind him. “Be ready to blind the group to the east as soon as they get close enough. They are the group nearest to us. Be ready for when another group approaches, and blind them too. Otherwise, you and Kinari focus on the frontline soldiers, me and Darius will focus on the ranged soldiers. Once we drive them away, retreat back here for cover. Wait for my signal.”
There was a brief moment of terrible tension, everyone quietly waiting for the time to strike. No matter how many times Kinari fought others, battle was something you could never get used to., She could still taste the metal in her mouth, hear her heart drumming desperately in her chest. All of them had their weapons out as they crouched behind the broken masonry.
Then Abraxas gave a hand signal and all that tension unwound in a spiral of violence.
Pavlos jumped out and raised both hands, pointing their palms at the approaching group. They seemed startled, but quickly readied their weapons and pointed their muskets. But from his hands came a ball of bright light, that flew towards the group as a cannonball and burst in an explosion of light and sound.
The soldiers were not physically wounded, but a few were knocked over by the impact and many were blinded, covering their faces or desperately trying to rub the eyesight back into them. Kinari herself had to blink away eyespots from her eyes as she jumped forward, mace in hand, ready for combat. One of the musketmen behind the others seemed less affected and tried aiming his gun, only for a dagger to hit his face and splatter his breastplate red. He dropped the gun and fell to the ground. More daggers flew into the soldiers, each finding their target without error while Darius blinked into existence behind another and grabbed one by the head, before slicing his neck with his sword. Then Kinari approached the group and started fighting them in earnest. She swung her mace hard, knocking blinded soldiers down and smashing them until they stopped moving. Some flailed with their weapons while others attempted to flee on all fours. Kinari focused on the ones still fighting, but Pavlos offered no such mercy, swinging his sword at any near him. In moments the street was drenched in blood and none of it belonged to the nobles or Kinari.
“Retreat!”
Their victory was short lived, however. As they returned for cover, two other groups had noticed the skirmish. Each group’s halberd soldiers, at a hand sign from their captains, crouched and let the musketmen aim and fire. The guns roared, spewing great columns of smoke and shattering pieces of stone and masonry around them as they ran back for cover. Kinari grunted in pain as she felt a sharp tug on her hand, and looked down to notice one of her fingers was almost torn off. A bullet had ripped half of her index knuckle, letting the remaining part dangle while covered in her thick, black blood.
She jumped behind the crumbling masonry for protection as the second group shot a volley at them, and this time Pavlos was the one hit. He grunted as the bullet smashed against his right shoulder from behind and spun before collapsing on his back with a pained expression. Blood welled from his wound, and from the hole the bullet had punched through his breastplate, as he struggled to get up. The frontline halberd soldiers were closing in now, but he pointed his left hand awkwardly at them and another ball of light flew from it towards his enemies and exploded in a flash of light and sound.
Kinari gritted her teeth, her eyes adjusting to the light as her ears rang with noise from the explosion that hit much closer to them this time. Despite her disorientation she still jumped past the masonry and tackled the soldier closest to Pavlos. Darius teleported next to Pavlos and held him firmly before blinking them both back behind the crumbling and now bullet-ridden wall. Abraxas carefully started picking off the riflemen with dagger throws. He never threw more than one at each target, and he never needed to. After Pavlos was safely behind the walls, Darius joined the other two in fighting the soldiers, teleporting between each sword strike and aiming for those who were slowly recovering from the light explosion.
Battle is a chaotic thing. Fear and anger pushing and pulling people as they attack and run away, and when face to face with someone trying to kill you, all reason ends and instinct takes over, either instinct honed by training or the more animalistic kind. One musketman crawled away, still desperately trying to reload his rifle. A halberdier raced to his side to protect him, only to be stopped by a dagger burying itself deep into his neck. Another one roared and stabbed with his halberd at Kinari. She ducked to the side and the sharp tip, aimed at her head, instead buried deep in her shoulder. She grunted in pain, then roared back, advancing and pushing back even as the spear bit into her shoulder, so she could swing her mace hard at the enemy soldier. The blow hit his head hard, making the helmet ring like a bell and he let go of the halberd and collapsed on his knees, swaying like a drunk man for a moment before vomiting on the ground. Kinari swung at his head again and he was knocked to the ground for good.
By now most living soldiers who had recovered panicked and retreated back into the streets they had come from. A few still stumbled around or tried to fight, and were promptly dispatched. But when the nobles and Kinari reunited behind the ruined walls, there was no triumph in their faces. They were bloodstained, sweaty and all except Abraxas were injured in some way.
Kinari huffed and puffed as she held her demolished finger close to her hand and spoke: “We can’t keep doing this much longer, captain!” She addressed Abraxas. “They’re chipping away at us with every attack!”
“... I can’t move my fucking hand,” groaned Pavlos as he looked down at his right arm. It hung limp from his bloodied shoulder and his face had gone pale to an unhealthy degree.
Abraxas gave them all a quick nod. “Kinari, open the trapdoor and call Vladimir and Hector to come up. Quickly. Darius? Go high and spot which street is less heavily guarded right now. We will make a break for it as soon as our Master and the other two return. They can cover our escape.”
Darius was not physically wounded like Kinari and Pavlos, but his face was exhausted and flushed, with a trickle of blood dribbling down from his nose despite no signs of any wound. He absentmindedly wiped at it, only making a smear over his mouth, before nodding and teleporting to the top of the broken tower. Abraxas glanced nervously as Kinari went to warn the others it was time to come up, before she walked back and sat down next to him, grimacing in pain.
“Calling me captain now?” He asked her quietly, peering behind the walls after throwing her a quick glance.
“Slip of the tongue,” she replied, also quiet.
He did not press her further, instead looking at the basement entrance before focusing again on the soldiers in the distance.
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Down in the basement, the air was so thick with tension it could be felt, like the pressure one feels when diving deep underwater, making it hard to move or even breathe. Demian looked miserable as he sat close to the ladder, supported by Vladmir on one side. His head hung low, his empty eyes facing his knees as one of his hands fiddled with the hem of his shirt.
Vladimir kept still, listening intently to the sounds of battle coming from above. Hector, on the other hand, paced nervously back and forth and constantly kept stopping to check on his knives, stored in neat rows around his belt.
So when the trapdoor burst open all three in the room jumped at the noise and turned up to face Kinari, who shouted at them: “Hey! Time to leave! We’re getting really pressured here, so hurry and be ready for a fight!”
Vladimir helped Demian get up and said, “hold onto me firmly, your lordship. I will carry you while the others fight.”
“A-about using m-my Gift...” Spoke Demian, shrinking even more despite being now upright.
“Do not worry,” replied Vladimir, his voice quiet and gentle. “Your power will not be needed today. Just hold on and be brave, Your Lordship.”
In contrast to Vladimir’s patience, Hector seemed to become even more restless, and after a moment of hesitation he took two knives from his belt and, in a quick, decisive motion, struck Vladimir on the neck with both of them.
He quickly pulled them out, splattering blood on himself, on the floor and on Vladimir’s armor as he let out a strangled gasp, too stunned to react.
“What? Wait, did something happen?” Asked Demian, feeling a single drop of blood splattered on his cheek.
Hearing this Vladimir struggled, trying to point his hands at the one who stabbed him from behind. But Hector again struck with each knife at Vladimir’s arms and then forced them down. The older man struggled back, for a moment almost overcoming Hector’s grip, but he grew weaker with every ounce of blood that spurted from his neck and in but a few seconds he had already slumped to the ground, too weak to even stand up.
“Stay where you are, Your Lordship!” Said Hector even as he struggled to stop Vladimir from fighting back. “Something happened! I’ll be with you in a moment!”
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Vladimir tried to say a warning, anything, but all that came out was a wet gurgle as fresh blood spat from his mouth and his wound.
“What is going on? Vladimir? What’s happening?” Asked Demian, turning side to side frantically and trying to hear and understand what was happening as a few feet away from him, his servant died.
Hector waited another moment, making sure Vladimir was truly gone, before getting up and throwing a hard punch at Demian’s stomach. The young man immediately collapsed, all breath knocked out of him, and his attacker wasted no time in ripping a bit of fabric from the tent and stuffing it in the young man’s mouth like a makeshift gag.
“Damn this...” Muttered Hector while securing the gag. “This whole situation has gone out of control. Damn it! Damn them all!”
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“Sire!” Darius shouted from his perch. “There’s another group of soldiers approaching from behind us! One of them has a very large full plate and a hammer. I think he’s from the Tarsus family.”
“The Gift of weight control,” muttered Abraxas. He looked at Darius, then at the trapdoor to the basement. “Hurry up! Vladimir! Hector! Quickly!”
“They noticed - ” Darius was interrupted by a volley of musket shots, all peppering the tower and exploding the masonry around him into dust and shards of stone. He yelled as his left leg was hit, blood splattering the crumbling tower he stood on. He started falling, but quickly teleported so he was closer to the ground, which he still hit with enough force to hurt. Abraxas rushed to Darius and saw his calf was now bleeding heavily.
“Damn,” said Abraxas, turning to face where the shots had come from. “The musketmen must be reloading now. I have to go.”
With these words he backed a bit before doing a running jump against the wall and then kicking his way up it, somehow. Legs blurring with movement and grabbing onto any handholds with lighting speed, he climbed the wall that had protected them from the last volley and jumped to the other side, out of sight of the other three. Darius gasped, trying to get into a sitting position while gritting his teeth in pain.
“Kinari...” He said, after looking at the state of his leg. “Are you able to carry me?”
“What?” She asked, distracted from the sounds she heard behind the wall.
“You’re strong. If - ” He winced again, before continuing: “If you carry me on your back, we can still fight.”
Kinari looked at him up and down. Aside from his leg, there was also fresh blood coming from his nose. “You look like shit,” she told him. “You’re not going to be able to fight like that.”
“I can… Still...” He winced, and took a deep breath. Kinario on the other hand rolled her eyes.
“Fine. Come here, you crazy bastard,” she said while turning around and helping him grab onto her back. She held onto him as she got up, lifting a full grown man with armor with only a slight struggle. That piggyback ride that would have looked ridiculous if it wasn’t for all the blood on their clothes and dripping down his left leg. “You hanging on tight?” She asked him.
“Yes.”
She started jogging around the wall and toward the fighting noises as she said “I hope you’re not expecting to fight while riding on top of me like that.”
“I can still use my Gift to surprise them,” he said. “And if I hold onto you, I can take you with me.”
“You mean I can wink into another spot with you?” She asked. “That… Is it dangerous?”
“No. But you need to be ready to move the moment we appear behind them,” he spoke softly while she carried him. “I recommend blinking at the exact moment I tell you to. When you open your eyes again, react to what is in front of you.”
“Fuck...” She muttered while her feet pounded the cobblestones and she rushed to run fully around the broken tower and towards where the fighting was happening. When they finally saw the battle, Kinari stopped her run and stared in awe.
Abraxas was fighting against a full squad by himself, as well as their leader, a man wearing a ridiculously thick full plate covering every inch of his body and wielding a hammer that was almost comically oversized, the handle being almost as large as a man’s torso. But the man in plate armor moved unnaturally gracefully, jumping from place to place and swinging his weapon as if it was a twirling baton as he aimed for Abraxas, who dodged with equally uncanny grace, sometimes avoiding the blow by mere inches. Behind the melee she saw the corpses of the riflemen, all killed by Abraxas before the fight even began. Some of them still clutched their rifles.
There were still many halberd soldiers left though, and they tried to surround Abraxas and attack him, to no avail. He always ducked and weaved between their weapons, sometimes somersaulting over one of them and avoiding being surrounded as he also dodged the heavy plate noble’s attacks. All these attackers, however, put him firmly on the defensive and he could not get any attacks in. In a brief moment, when he was not in reach of anyone and could stop dodging and collect his breath, Kinari realized how tired he was. It was clear he could not keep this up for long. He still managed to throw a knife at the leader, expertly hitting the spot under the helm, but the blade just got stuck there and did not seem to phase the knight in the slightest.
“How much armor is that guy wearing?” Muttered Kinari.
“I will bring you close to the halberdiers on the right,” whispered Darius in her ear. “After that, I will leave you on your own.”
“What - ”
The world around her shifted, disorienting her for a moment before she remembered his advice and blinked once, hard. When she opened her eyes, she realized she was behind some of the halberd soldiers and, after the briefest hesitation, swung her mace hard and knocked one of them down. The other soldiers shouted in surprise, turning around behind them, and Darius took this as his cue, suddenly vanishing from behind her back and making her stumble with the sudden absence of weight.
The fight turned into complete chaos. Three soldiers advanced on Kinari as she desperately tried to keep them from surrounding her, while Darius was now atop the plate armor knight, holding onto his neck as he grabbed the knife that was stuck there and used it to hack at the strap that kept the helmet on, while the knight struggled to reach behind him and grab Darius. A halberd grazed Kinari’s cheek as she ducked to avoid the blow. Abraxas was slicing through his halberd soldiers while still dodging and weaving between them, now there were less soldiers to dodge. Darius, with one last hack of his knife, cut the strap and managed to yank the helmet off, revealing the knight’s panicked expression. He responded by violently spinning, much faster than a man should be able to while wearing such armor. The momentum was too much for Darius, who let go from the knight and fell to the ground hard. He was dazed for a moment after the rough landing, and that was enough. The knight brought his enormous hammer down hard enough to crush Darius’ chest with a sickening sound. His breastplate might as well have been made of cheap wood.
“Darius!”
The Knight turned at the sound, and a furious Abraxas threw one dagger, followed by a second, at his unprotected face. The daggers struck flesh and the plate knight gurgled, struggling to stand before collapsing to the ground with a deafening crash. The cobblestones cracked around where he landed.
The remaining soldiers, seeing their leader fall, lost heart and started retreating in various degrees of panic. Kinari did not bother pursuing them, exhausted as she was by just trying to stay alive in the melee fight, and Abraxas stared fixedly at the mess on the ground that had once been Darius, Abraxas’ chest rose and fell with labored breathing and his eyes were blank.
“We have… To go!” Kinari gasped between breaths, gesturing at the other soldiers in the distance. They did not seem to be closing in yet, but anyone looking could see the defenders were tired and now down one man.
Abraxas finally turned away, looking at Kinari and giving a short nod before they both staggered their way back to the center of the ruined tower. They had to go around the wall Abraxas had climbed before and make their way to the crumbling masonry walls which they could jump over and reach the trapdoor to the basement.
That is when they saw another group of soldiers approaching them, all careful and on their guard. The bodies of the previous attempts lying on the street, bloodied and broken, probably encouraged them to be careful. Abraxas checked on Pavlos, who was propped against a wall, and realized he had stopped moving and a large pool of blood gathered where he was. He checked Pavlos’ breath and found none.
“Kinari!” Abraxas’ voice had gone cold, even beyond his usual stoicism. There was no mercy in its intent, and no disagreement with its command. “Go into the basement and bring Demian here. Now! If something has happened, I give you full permission to do whatever is necessary! Just bring him out! Quickly! I will hold the ground here”
She looked at him, still somewhat out of breath and with far fewer daggers in his belt, and hesitated for the briefest of moments.
“GO!” Shouted Abraxas, drawing two daggers and crouching behind the masonry. Kinari jumped at that direct order and ran to the trapdoor while cursing under her breath.
She slid down the ladder rather than going down step by step while shouting “Alright, we gotta go - !”
She was stopped in her tracks by a gruesome scene. Vladimir lay dead on the floor. Demian had his hands tied together and a comically large gag stuffed in his mouth, while tears rolled from his blank eyes and down his cheeks. And close to him, dagger in hand, was Hector glaring at her with an expression of pure contempt.
“Oh. It’s you,” he said with obvious disgust. Kinari’s eyes widened.
“You’re the fucking - !”
She realized he was preparing a throw and barely had time to raise her arm to protect her head before he released the throwing dagger. Somehow, despite the fact she both ducked and had her arm up, the dagger still struck the side of her neck with a spurt of black blood. Her vision wavered, but she stumbled and charged at him. Staying at a range would be a death sentence for her.
She swung hard with her mace, twice, only for Hector to dodge both blows with ease while hopping to the side. She barely had time to register that he had another dagger in his hand before he threw it. This one hit true, square on her one good eye, making her scream in pain and drop to her knees. Her vision was now completely gone, one side of her face still burned, while the other was covered in the inky black blood from her wounded eye. She groped for the knife and pulled it out, bringing out another small spurt of blood and a shriek from her.
“Still alive?” She heard Hector say, somewhere to her left. “Persistent little thing, aren’t you?”
She heard him step closer and swung wildly, hoping to catch him by surprise. But her swings met only air and the corner of a makeshift stool, sending it flying with her blind attack.
“If it wasn’t for you sticking your nose and warning them, this could have gone so much better,” he muttered, now right above her right ear. “Little filthblood bitch!”
Two daggers sunk into her neck, bringing her even more pain and disorientation. She swung one last time, as fast as she could, but it barely grazed him as he ducked away. She reached for the daggers stabbed on her neck, her hands clumsy and weak, and managed to pull them before she finally fell backwards and stopped moving. The black blood that dripped from her wounded eye almost resembled tears.
Hector made a disgusted noise before glancing up at the entrance to the basement. He could hear the sounds of fighting coming from above. He then grabbed his hostage, who was now crying even more than before although his gag muffled all of his sobs, and he dragged him closer to the ladder, but not enough to be directly under the trapdoor.
“Listen here,” hissed Hector, pulling Demian close to him. “When I give you the warning, I’ll start carrying you up the ladder and out of here. Cooperate and you get to be a good little prisoner. No harm will come to you. But if you try something smart, if I see you so much as touch that gag in any way, I will not hesitate to stab you and knock the wind out of you like I did before. You are no longer any lord of mine, understand?”
Demian nodded, his cheeks still wet.with tears and red from crying. Hector glanced up again. The sounds of fighting had grown silent. He then heard his sire’s voice, calling out:
“Ki… Kinari? Your L-” Abraxas coughed, a wet cough that sounded distinctly unhealthy. “Your Lordship...? Anyone….? Come up here, now!”
Hector gritted his teeth and grabbed and carried Demian with one hand while awkwardly climbing the ladder with the other. The hand that carried his hostage also held a knife that he kept close to his former lord’s throat as he climbed.
“Hold on, I’m coming!” Shouted Hector.
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Above was an eerily quiet scene of carnage. There were corpses of soldiers all over the place, some lying on pools of blood, others propped against a wall or draped over a piece of crumbling masonry like a gruesome decoration. In the center of all this death was Abraxas.
He was on the ground, his back leaning against another piece of the wall, and had blood over most of his chest. Some of it was from the dead soldiers surrounding him, but not all. There was a visible hole on his breastplate and his breathing was ragged and interrupted here and there by a wet, gurgling cough. Pink, bubbly spittle dribbled from the corner of his mouth and his eyes were sunken and half-open. This was a man taking his last, painful breaths.
He looked at Hector, and his brows furrowed in confusion for a few moments as he processed what he saw. Hector stood with a pained expression, behind a bound and gagged Demian that looked lost and desperate.
“Hector… You-” He coughed, more pink spittle flying from his mouth. “What are you…?”
But the other man said nothing, utterly still as he stared at his former superior and held Demian firmly close to him. The boy let a muffled noise from his gag, but did not fight his captor. It took another moment for realization to finally dawn on Abraxas’ face, followed by horror and disappointment.
“You…?” He blinked once, twice, the horror slowly turning into anger. “It was… You?”
“It was not supposed to be like this!” Shouted Hector in a sudden outburst of emotion. He looked even angrier than Abraxas, eyes wide and teeth bared in a grimace. “If only you hadn’t crashed the fucking boat, we would have been captured by the Gronaw without a fuss! All captives, nice and neat! No need for bloodshed. But nah… You had to derail the fucking plan!”
“Gronaw... ? Do you mean…? You filthy…! Revolutionary-” Abraxas winced, allowing Hector to continue.
“And then you had to hire that fucking filthblood! And wouldn’t you know it, she had to tell you all about the incoming Adran Soldiers! I didn’t want to get everyone killed, you know? You think I wanted this?” He gestured furiously at the corpses surrounding them. “The plan was to let the soldiers surround the trapoor and then you’d have no choice but to surrender! Clean! Painless! But no! Again, we did things the hard way! Now everyone’s dead! And for what? A sniveling coward? A cripple, third in line for the throne? Was it worth all of the Royal Guard’s deaths to keep this little shit alive?”
He punctuated his speech by shaking his hostage with anger, causing Demian to emit another muffled cry.
“Traitor...” Abraxas’ voice was low, barely above a whisper, but he packed more disgust and anger in this word than Hector had in his entire speech.
“No! We were the ones who were betrayed! The moment we were given this useless duty for the rest of our lives, we were betrayed!” Hector lowered his voice, almost pleading. “What was I supposed to do? Stay as a glorified bodyguard my entire life? To someone who doesn’t even matter? Never getting honored or rewarded, to the end of my days, and I should have just sat down and taken it?”
Hector was ranting now, furious, but he still had enough self-control to notice Abraxas trying clumsily to prepare a throw and immediately grabbed onto Demian and pulled him in between himself and the dying knight.
“No, no, no, I don’t think so!” Said Hector. “If you think you’re still good enough to throw that knife and beat my reflexes, bleeding on the ground like that, while avoiding the little lordling here, then go ahead! Take the shot, by all means! Show me how it’s done, master!”
Abraxas seemed to hesitate, then after another painful cough, said, “You failed… To consider... One thing.”
“Oh yeah?” Said Hector defiantly. He was staring so intently at Abraxas that he failed to hear a gentle step behind him and it was only when his right arm was grabbed and pulled away did he realize what Abraxas meant.
He turned and saw Kinari, looming over him like an angry goddess, black blood streaking down from her dirty, yet somehow still fully-functioning right eye.
“Dodge this, asshole!” She said while bringing down her mace. He tried to move out of the way, but she had a tight grip on him, and her mace hit his held down arm with full force, enough to visibly break it with a vicious cracking noise. Hector screamed in agony while she readied another blow at his head.
Somehow, he still managed to avoid the second swing by moving to the side and letting go of his hostage. Even while crying in pain, he managed to grab a knife and stab Kinari three times in quick succession, in her chest, arm and throat. He finished his attack with a kick that knocked her back and finally forced her to let go of his arm.
“How…?” Hector gasped in pain. “I killed you…?”
“Going to... Have to try… Better than that to kill me,” she said, grinning viciously. Blood dribbled from her wounds on her neck, then quickly it slowed and stopped. In but a moment she got back up and readied her mace, ready as always, while a few feet away Hector whimpered in pain. “Don’t ya know? Trolls regenerate.”
“Miserable filthblood!” Shouted Hector, holding onto his arm while staring furiously at her.
“The gag...” Croaked Abraxas. He looked desperately at Kinari while pointing at the tied-up Demian with the last of his strength. “Remove… Gag.”
Hector heard that and jumped towards his former hostage. But Kinari was closer and swung wildly with one hand while reaching for the gag and pulling it down with the other. Hector might have been able to dodge the blow or reach Demian before Kinari, but not both. He ducked away at the same time Demian was released.
“Everyone, stop! Don’t move!” Shouted Demian, eyes wide and unseeing. His tone had an eerie echo that Kinari had never heard before. And everyone froze in place, including her and Hector.
Kinari willed her legs to step forward, her arms to swing her mace, but they did not obey no matter how hard she tried. She could do nothing but breathe as her heart thundered in her chest, pumping blood and adrenaline towards limbs that would not move and towards a head that was a prisoner in its own body.
“Abraxas, you’re free to move,” said Demian in the same tone. He had fresh tears in his eyes as he spoke again, using his normal voice. “Umm… Abraxas? What’s going on…? Is - Is Hector really…?”
His voice was soft, pleading, lost in a world that had violently flipped in the last few minutes. Abraxas wheezed.
“He’s… Traitor!” He said with the same venom in his voice. He coughed, before continuing. “Lord… Let Kinari… Move...”
“I-If you say so… Um. Kinari, you’re free to move.” Said Demian, turning towards the rough direction where she was. And with those words she was immediately able to move again. She looked at her own hand, opening and closing it experimentally, then turned to look at Demian with a fearful expression.
“You’re a fucking royal?” She asked, fear and awe in her voice.
“I… I’m sorry I did that to you, Kinari,” said Demian, lowering his head meekly. He raised his voice for the next question: “Is there anyone else that I should free?”
“Kinari…” Abraxas wheezed again, looking at her while pointing at Hector. She looked at the traitor, frozen in place, then back at Abraxas as he bled on the ground, and nodded. She shook her head, recovering from the shock, and then took a few steps and raised her mace high above her head. Hector’s eyes were wide, and she could see sweat forming on his forehead. But he remained frozen in place as she brought the mace down on his head as hard as she could. His head was crushed and his body crumpled to the floor, now limp and still.
“Told ya… I’m hard to kill,” grumbled Kinari, wiping away some blood that had splattered on her face. Demian’s lips trembled, but he said nothing.
“Kinari… My… Your Lordship -” Abraxas was interrupted by a coughing fit. “Closer...” he beckoned with his hand.
“Abraxas… Uh… Are you ok? Where are the others?” Asked Demian.
Kinari made a face and put a hand gently on his shoulder. “Come here. Abraxas wants to talk.” And she guided Demian with her to the spot where Abraxas leaned against the wall. She kneeled in front of him and Abraxas reached up, holding Demian’s hand.
“You have to survive,” he whispered. “Get back… To Viridia.”
“Abraxas?” Demian reached with his other hand and groped for his face. When he felt the wetness of blood there, his hand withdrew and his empty eyes grew wider. “Oh no… Are you going to be ok?”
Kinari shook her head sadly. “Sorry, kid, but I don’t think so. Seen that kinda wound before, and people like that don’t tend to live long after.”
“Can’t go… You must stay strong,” whispered Abraxas. He gave Demian’s hand a gentle squeeze before turning to the other. “Kinari… Please. Take him with you to Viridia… Protect him - ”
He was interrupted by another coughing fit, which sounded even more painful than the last. Kinari frowned. “That’s a tall, fucking order. You didn’t tell me he was part of the royal family. Bloody, fingerbanging hell! Now I know why there were so many looking for him!”
“Please… Promise...” Abraxas pleaded between breaths, reaching for her with his trembling hand. She did not grab it, instead looking around nervously. There were no living soldiers in sight anymore, probably scared by how many of them had died at their small group’s hands, but how long would that last?
“Why are you putting me in her care?” Asked Demian. “No…! It can’t be! Where is everyone…?”
Abraxas looked at him, then back at Kinari, and she was uncomfortably surprised to see tears showing at the corner of Abraxas eyes. He looked hopeless and desperate, which might explain his next decision. Gingerly he lifted his hand still holding the dagger and, with some effort, slashed the blade across the palm of his other hand. Fresh blood welled from the shallow cut as he offered both the bleeding hand and the dagger to her.
“A blood-oath,” he said. “Now. Promise.”
“W-what? A blood-oath? With me?” Asked Kinari, her eyes widening with shock. She even glanced to see if he meant Demian, but no. He was offering it to her.
“Please… Promise...” He coughed again. Demian was now crying again. “My duty… For Honor’s sake... Promise…!”
“Never heard of a noble making a blood-oath with a half-blood...” She still hesitated for a moment, awestruck. Then he pressed the dagger gently against her hand and she recovered, grabbing the dagger and scraping the blade against her palm. Fresh black blood stained her hand, which she then slowly offered to him. Kinari seemed star-struck, shy almost, she would not even take the initiative.
Which is what Abraxas did instead. He gripped her hand in his, both their blood mingling in their palms in a strong handshake. “Promise me… Promise me you’ll protect him,” he begged.
“I’ll protect him,” repeated Kinari, still shy as she looked at their hands in awe.
“With your life.”
“With my life,” she repeated.
“Then the oath is sealed. What is yours is mine, and what is mine is yours. You are... You are now my heir. Bound by blood.” He nodded once, letting go. His arm fell to the ground, limp, and he coughed before turning to Demian. “Ellora watch… Over you. Goodbye… My lord.”
“Wait! No!” Demian pleaded, his hands reaching for Abraxas in a clumsy hug and getting blood all over his shirt. “We can save him, right? Please, Kinari! There- there must be something!”
Kinari did not reply, instead pulling Demian away and picking him up. He still pleaded desperately for her to help Abraxas, begging her to let him go. Abraxas gave her a quiet nod, almost out of energy. All she could do was nod back before turning away and running into the street. The soldiers were all in disarray, uncertain and scared. She ran, then ducked into an alley, leaving behind a blood-stained street that could rival any battlefield in sheer death. There, at the center of it all, Abraxas breathed his last.
“An oath, made amidst blood-stained corpses, marked the beginning of the end. And who would have dreamed that from such humble beginnings could begin the tale of those that would change the world?”
-Excerpt from “A Tale of Two Embers”
By Simon IV of Embergaard