Chapter 41

Mikel hit the ground running. Before his vision or hearing returned, he was moving. He blindly leapt up from the couch, slammed into the assailant who stayed rooted in place as if a statue and staggered to the side. He felt glass crunch underneath his feet as he slid towards where he thought the door was.

A blind, deaf moment later his hand found the latch and he erupted out into the still, silent crowd.

As he was leaving the house he was happy to have avoided hitting The Time Demon. There was no telling what it would or could do to him. It had stopped time after all.

His vision began to clear, but only by measures.

First the difference between light and shadows returned, allowing him to dodge between starkly outlined, frozen people. Then, as he staggered forward, Callisto Jewel bobbing wildly from the long gold chain on his neck, more came into focus. Within five minutes of his ragged dash, he could see and hear as well as he had before the tremendous blast had whited out his entire existence.

Not that there was much to hear.

Like the house behind him, the street and all the people within were frozen.

Aside from wobbling from side to side as unsteady legs tried to betray him, Mikel had little in the way of obstacles as he raced through the still people and animals, some caught in mid-stride. Aside from the occasional dodge to avoid a hidden, frozen body, his way was clear.

As he reasserted control over his breathing, running, and hammering heart, a sense of dread swept over him. It wasn’t as bad as The Dread in the Market’s library, but it was close and it was real.

Under the pressure from the terror flowing through him, his muscles began to go slack. Two more steps were all Mikel could manage before he slammed into a tall, slender man, leading a camel through the crowded streets.

The man, like the assailant, was like a statue and Mikel reeled back from the impact and landed on his backside, staring at the frozen sky above - birds caught in flight as if frozen in ice.

He breathed and allowed the reality of the situation to wash over him.

He didn’t know what exactly had happened - only that he’d been attacked in Helsket’s home, something had frozen time and that something was probably The Time Demon - the creature which had not only destroyed his family's heirloom, Crest of Evening, but had also heralded the decline of Erik Raithson’s health and the health of the Raithson House itself.

Everyone had thought The Time Demon dead and yet, some form of it had accosted Mikel twice in as many days. The first one may have been a simple projection from The Callisto Jewel and his fears, but this one… This felt too real. This was no illusion. Whatever force had stopped the world had real power, not just imagined in a dream.

Too many thoughts raced in Mikel’s head for him to catalog them all - the fear though, blinding minutes before was giving way to cold realization of his situation as The Callisto Jewel rolled off his chest and somehow found its way into his hand.

Unlike moments before it didn’t shatter out pain and cold, instead, it lay inert, quiet, and suspiciously still. The pain it had inflicted on Mikel minutes ago was like a red gash on his psyche, and even with a concentrated power of will he felt barely able to contain the mental blood from rushing out in great gouts.

In the absolute stillness of the world, laying in the frozen dirt, Mikel lifted The Jewel to his eyes and stared at the blood-red gem.

Why did I seek you out?

It had been his choice - from the plan’s inception to the bloody finale. He’d been the one seeking power. He’d sought out The Jewel and all the trouble it carried with it - even if he hadn’t fully understood the immense load he’d taken on by seizing possession of the artifact.

Did he have a better grasp of the situation now?

Sure.

Did that mean he didn’t have more questions than when he started?

Absolutely not. As he was quickly finding out, one question led to three more, which led to a dozen others - and there was always violence along the way. More questions. More blood. More answers. It was a definitive cycle he was now part of, and he saw no immediate way out. There was only one option - Keeping going.

Now, after an explosion of pure, unmoving force, he was free of the assailant but trapped in a world of frozen people.

Mikel rolled on his side as a coughing fit overcame him and it was moments later when the coughing spell ended and he realized even the dust on the ground was frozen. He tapped it and watched as it distorted, but pulled back to the previous shape within moments.

He didn’t know what to make of the strangeness… But meant to find Helsket, and fast. He had no idea how long this frozen world would last, but he meant to take full advantage of it and put as much distance between the assassin, The Time Demon and himself.

Not that distance mattered to a creature that could control the very fabric of reality - and yet, moving away made Mikel feel better.

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He mastered himself, pushed up, and took off at a jog to find Helsket before things got even worse.

***

Metrike had him.

Achos had ordered her to kill Mikel, and without saying it, promised release from the cruel Bond he’d imposed on her and she wouldn't fail.

She’d taken her time, left to rush Mikel by herself, as Achos and Philander pursued Helsket. The ringleader's logic was sound in that if Mikel died, but Helsket lived, they’d have an issue on their hands.

She would do anything to be rid of the Bond and to return to her life. Her family was waiting for her, and she meant to get back in one piece, as soon as she could. Her sisters and younger brother were counting on her - still counting on her even as she was forced to follow a madman across The Continent on a mission she barely understood. She was an unwilling participant - but a participant none-the-less.

At that moment as she watched Mikel fumble with armor, it didn’t matter if she understood the mission - it was enough to know her task - one more thing to get her closer to her goal. She would get there, and she would be as perfect as she could to expedite the process.

Her strike had been perfect.

She’d watched as the young nobleman tied and re-tied his armor on his pack with small variations - but none apparently to his liking. A dozen times later she saw her chance when it cropped up.

Mikel buried his face in his hands and it was then she began to move.

From rooftop to rooftop, then down to the street, then back onto Helsket’s roof. By the time she’d navigated to the spot she’d plotted out several minutes had passed.

With a deep breath and a mental prayer to Alturn, she dove over the edge of the roof, grabbed the ledge she crouched on, and with acrobatic skill that would shame a circus troupe, she careened through the window and caught the ground under her feet.

To top it all off she hadn’t used a single Skill for the entire maneuver.

She was saving every ounce of her valuable Essentia for this single attack.

Mikel didn’t have a chance to react as she shot up her right hand and muttered the incantation which activated her favorite combat Skill -

Hollow bone, whistling through a dead home - Freeze.

A complex green glyph formed in the air just beyond her fingertips and cracked through the air, striking the boy in the chest before he could say anything. A split second later, with her heirloom dagger drawn, she was on him, wicked cat’s claw blade angled for his liver.

His death would be quick and as painless as she could manage.

She was a killer. Had been a killer. Would be a killer again - Achos had made her that - But that didn’t mean she took pleasure in the act. Killing, to Metrike, was as necessary as breathing. While The Bond was in place there was little she could do, other than acquiesce to her fate until she could escape.

Yes - the kill would be quick. It would be per -

Then Mikel was gone. She finished her slice through the air, wicked, curved dagger flashing in the twilight sun.

She slammed into the ground. Hard - the sharp edge of her dagger biting into the tough floor with a sick grating sound which put her teeth on edge.

A moment later she was back on her feet - looking around wildly.

Mikel had vanished.

She’d prepared for everything - she’d been perfect. What… What had happened?

When she looked around again Achos and Philander stood in the small house, shadowed hoods turned towards her.

From Philander she felt sympathy - from Achos she felt nothing but rabid hate.

“How in the hels did you let him get away?” Achos barked, bitter notes in his voice.

Metrike didn't even have time to get her hands up before he slammed The Bond he held over here, into the metaphorical ground.

White, hot pain flooded over her and it was all Metrike could do to remain conscious as she slid to the lumpy couch, as still as Mikel had been when she’d ensorcelled him.

“You damn, stupid bitch,” Achos cursed as he strode forward, hand outstretched in a claw, pointed at Metrike’s heart where the Soul Bond rested.

The pain was exquisite and so powerful Metrike almost surrendered herself to it and let it wash her where it would. She would have been alright dying then - but only because all of who she was had been washed away.

Such was the power of The Bond.

What did she have to live for at this point? She knew that as soon as she or Philander killed the boy, their lives were forfeit. For some reason, Achos didn’t want to kill Mikel himself but was fine with someone else doing it. Her family would be better off without her… Why had she been so stupid?

Metrike knew very little of Philander and even less about Achos. She and Philander had managed a few clipped conversations over the month since Achos had ripped a piece of their souls from their physical forms, to bind to an ancient piece of magic that controlled every aspect of their lives.

She had learned that Philander, like her, hadn’t lived a clean life. Growing up poor on The Continent rarely spoke to easy living and neither had been lucky enough to be born adjacent to or serving noble families. Although they’d both grown up in separate cities, roughly ten years separating them in age, he was the only friend she had now - and the only lifeline she could see out of this situation.

“You think you can just fuck me over?” Achos twisted his hand and a scream ripped from Metrike’s lips as a deeper, more true pain she'd only known once flooded her body - When Achos had Bound her, and it signaled only one thing.

He was ripping her soul again.

She screamed in earnest, spittle flying and tears leaking down her cheeks as her throat struggled to close against the assault. Her body wanted to shut down - to die, and Metrike wanted the same.

But Achos wouldn’t let her.

He twisted again and a fresh flood of agony washed over her screams just petering out, renewed as she convulsively sucked in a breath to refill her tattered and abused lungs.

Breathing felt like fire and her body had gone numb from the pain. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t reason. All she could do was to scream.

“Achos,” Philander said over the terrible agony Metrike was being subjected to, “Achos, we have to go. The Watch is coming, do you hear?”

Achos jerked back, hand still outstretched toward Metrike, but the pain paused for a moment. She panted in agony as feeling flooded back in and her muscles collapsed against the couch. She hadn’t realized that every fiber of muscle in her body had been locked up, but now the cramp had passed she cried all the harder as the less absolute pain sank in. In a way, she missed the blinding agony of moments before.

Who wanted to hurt like this?

Even above her sobs, the watch’s bells and horns could be heard, headed towards the house.

“Hounds on the trail,” Achos cursed as his hooded head swiveled back to Metrike. He clenched his fist once more, eliciting a final cry from the tortured woman before turning back to Philander and pointing at the three of them.

“Get her up. We need her to teleport us. To the safe point. Now.”

“As you say, Master,” Philander said, choking against the anger he held in check. He hadn’t known Metrike for long, but the shared trauma of having their souls Bonded to a man such as Achos had welded them tight. He knew he couldn’t do anything - not now at least, but he hoped soon, if a miracle presented itself, he could save himself and Metrike. He hoped.

In the meantime, he moved to Metrike and picked her up by her offered hand. He was startled to find how little she weighed. She’d never been large, but the last few days on top of the building must have taken their toll.

“You have to get us out of here. The Watch is coming. We’re all dead if you don’t. Can you teleport us?”

She nodded weakly, unable to form words. With a shaky hand, she held out an index finger to carve an intricate pattern into the air only she could see, and with a surge of Essentia - the last dregs of her Essentia pool, enacted the Skill which swept over the three hooded assailants and whisked them away on the tides of magic, even as the City Watch barreled into the small house, screaming and yelling for order.