The woman with the bandana was at the very front of the crowd, marching arm in arm with the people. The whole front rank of the crowd had their arms linked; all chanting as they marched on. The sound was deafening in the cramped spaces of the apartment.
Atonement could almost admire their bravery.
Why couldn’t they understand? If they just stopped resisting and joined the Empire they could control the wretched, sinful emotions within them. Those feelings, that inherent Sin, had been what led humanity to persecute the other races in the past. The first Empire, the Human Empire, had enslaved or put whole worlds to the torch.
Humans had never recovered from their collective Sin. It stained their souls black as black as the corpses of a heretic after they were purged. Atonement felt it still within them; a molten core of anger and hate that burned inside them.
“Say her name!”
“Mel Danton!”
“Say her name!”
“Mel Danton!”
Atonement sighed, this crowd was furious, just the sight of the Maiden and the Convert Troops whipping them into a deeper frenzy. No words could ever hope to calm them now. Atonement swept their scope across the crowd, looking for anyone who might be armed with anything more dangerous than blunt stick or a sign. Atonement had been told to hold fire unless absolutely necessary; the Empire wanted Idlethen’s subjects alive and working.
“Oh this should be good. Filthy heathens, the Maiden will teach them.” Zean said, beneath her mask’s hooded eyes Atonement saw excitement in her eyes. Her and Atonement watched as the double line of Converts formed a living barricade across the square below.
The crowd marched to a stop a few meters in front of the Empire’s line. The people at the front of the crowd went quiet, those behind couldn’t see and kept chanting or shouting obscenities at the Imperials. Through their scope Atonement could see the looks of confusion, fear, and anger on the protestors faces. They were indecisive, unsure. Anger warring inside them with fear at the Convert troops truncheons and shield.
“What are they doing? What hasn’t the Maiden ordered them away?”
“Quiet. Focus on the crowd, this might be their breaking point.” Atonement hissed.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
They chided themselves on talking like that; expressing so much emotion. Why did this woman bother them so much? Was it just that she too excited to see the protestors punished? They might be heretics but they were still human, still capable of changing and accepting their ancestral sin.
Didn’t they deserve a chance too?
The Maiden raised her hands, showing the cracked layer of charcoal that covered her arm from fingertip to shoulder. Lines of white hot energy showed between the cracks, surging down her arms and erupting from her outspread fingers as a bloom of brilliant flame. It crackled above the crowds, heat radiating off it like a funeral pyre.
The Penitents of her body guard cheered three times as the flame grew larger. At her signal the lines of Converts marched forward, shields overlooked and truncheons at the ready. The crowd swayed for a moment and Atonement could almost feel the tension in the air, the moment of decision where the crowd would either disperse or hold firm.
They held.
The front rank marched forward and met the converts in the square below. A cacophony of shouts, jeers and the sound of wood meeting flesh filled the street. Atonement watched through their scope as the protestors shoved and pushed against the converts, screaming into their masked faces.
The rear ranks pushed forward or threw bottles and trash over the heads of their comrades. The CinderMaiden sent lazy tongues of flames licking out at the missiles with her fingers .They burst into ash with little pops so quiet that Atonement only heard them because they were closer than the street.
The protestors kept up their push though, Atonement saw some of them fall to the Converts blows and be pulled back by the other marchers to safety. It was clear that the Converts had the advantage; their training, discipline and shields kept the protestors locked in place. It didn’t stop them trying though, Atonement watched the woman with the bandanna go down to a blow to her shoulder and be pulled away only for her to shrug off her helpers and plunge back into the fray.
The chanting never stopped, if anything it grew louder, more furious as the struggle grew fiercer. Atonement didn’t know name they chanted but whoever it was they could tell that it would be a name Idlethen would never forget. With each chant of the name the protestors pushed forward, using the sheer mass and momentum to slowly push the Converts back.
Atonement was so fascinated by the huge struggle below that they missed one small detail.
A single person, dressed in simple denim overalls and a soot-stained shirt slip from one of the doorways. They missed the stranger pull a single short-barrelled pistol from their pocket. Maybe Atonement would have noticed that the stranger’s face was too pale for a factory worker and the scarf pulled over the mouth and nose was a familiar shade of red.
“Sir! Down by the converts, left side, on the street!” Zean called out as she noticed the dull metal of the person’s pistol. Atonement panicked and swung their scope around looking for Zean’s target. There was too many people below, too many humans, Canvuls and other species all mixed together, all pressing against the thin red line of Converts. All the colours of their clothes, their blood blended together into a chaotic mess.
Atonement didn’t see the stranger in time.