FOUL WINDS STILL MOVE
Emilia and Emmet weave through the thronged streets, a practiced dance of evasion and petty theft. Bags bounce against their backs, a testament to their hurried illicit work.
"I thought you said you were a good thief", Emilia snarls at him, "I never said I was a good thief, how the hell do you think I became a slave?", he shouts back.
They run on narrow grounds filled with hasty citizens. It seems the shock of night's battle still terrorises those who witnessed it.
People give way but the duo come crashing into another set of two, falling and rolling on the ground.
The crowd parts, then erupts s the tumbling pair slams into two more, a chaotic sprawl on the cobblestones.
"Watch where you are going", the only who still stands says.
"Braga, you big baboon creature. Run", Emmet screams as he sees his pursuers.
Kane helps Emilia up, with a sharp glance he finds Chandler's men searching for him, "Run", he says.
They all run, they take a left turn and jump into an empty wagon, pulling over its covers to hide them from sight. They wait minutes until they finally peak to find their pursuers out of sight.
They finally get themselves set up. Emmet and Emilia brought some clothes carried in their bags and a few trinkets and jewellery while Kane and Braga brought most of the money.
"Now we can get a bloody inn to sleep", Emmet laments as he adjust his attire.
He wears a black jacket on top a white shirt, pants and a pair of boots to match, "Finally some clothes. Feels like it's been ages ago", he says.
The clothes are tight on Braga so he proceeds to roll them upwards as they tighten against his thick arms.
Emilia goes into hiding to change her clothes while Kane wears a blue and brown attire, its colours matches his eyes.
They all gather together as they begin to contemplate where they must go next, "Before we say anything, we should get something to eat. I am starving", Emmet suggests.
"I am with the Halfborn", Braga agrees.
"Yes but we need somewhere away from our pursuers", Kane says.
Suddenly Emilia's eyes glows briefly and they all feel a surge of power flow through them, "What just happened?", Emmet asks as the show comes to an end.
Emilia staggers backwards but Kane grabs her to hold her firm, "Are you okay?", "The stone. It cast a spell through me. The people that want to hurt us won't recognise us", she says while groaning with a hand on her forehead.
"You don't seem alright", Kane worries, "I'm good", the dark elf insists.
They continue their walk in the town, now with a strange magic of confusion that protects their image.
Kane wonders how Emilia keeps pulling off such feat but then allowed herself remain a slave.
Could it be she is just like him? Unaware of what they are truly capable of.
They come across a big tree along the grassy lands of Rolandia, along the road they find many wagons moving with properties and people, truly the citizens make haste to flee their small town.
Kane and Emmet go close to the road and approach a family, "Good day Sir, lady", Emmet gives a light bow to put their mind at ease, "Where is everyone going?", they ask.
"The capital. Everyone is scared shitless that the dragon may return and we don't want to be here when that happens", the head of the family replies.
The guys nod and thank him for his assistance before returning to Braga and Emilia.
"They are going to the capital. We also found out today that we are in Rolandia, in the continent of Ignis", Emmet discloses.
"From Erebos to Ignis", Braga says and begins to laugh heartily, "Truly you have saved us from that horrid fucking place my friend", he taps Kane on the back as he laughs.
"Most are on their way to Stonefield, their capital.", Kane says, "I bet they have some quality restaurants there. And I bet we aren't wanted there either", "The Halfborn speaks some sense sometimes", Braga backs him up again.
"You giant mutt", Emmet cusses under his breath.
"Let's be on our way, we have a quest to fulfil", Emilia remind them.
MERDONA
"My lord, here is your tea. It is quite hot so be careful", Dorathy says to Duke Clarion as she helps him to get a grip on the handle of his cup.
Smells of raspberry and lavender soar through the room.
She serves him breakfast on a table in his chambers.
Daylight storms the room through open windows, carrying with it a breeze to sought the anguish of one's soul.
Spreading the lavender through the room.
Clarion's once dark eyes have become a stale white, showing his loss of the worldly spectrum.
Dorathy, dark of skin, gives orders to the maids to arrange his chambers while she feeds him his breakfast.
She uses a handkerchief to wipe a trickle of tea on his lower lip, "Tell me Dorathy, do you think the King will have much use of me now that I am blind?", he says.
"My lord, his majesty sees your worth not only in your sight but in your mind as well.
You have served him well as the duke, this simply is a new obstacle which you shall overcome", she says, though if she believes it he cannot tell.
Clarion chuckles, "You put so much faith in me Dorathy", "Faith well placed", she responds.
"Now tell me the truth. What is being said about my journey to Rolandia?", he asks with a stern voice.
Dorathy signals for the maids to exit the room, "Well to be frank my lord, the council aren't happy about it.
First off, you reassigned the guards appointed to you to other duties without the knowledge of the crown.
Your journey ended in failure since you gained no useful information about the crescent moon that appeared in Rolandia and your actions are being questioned", she says.
"Then there is the matter of the Ravagers. You haven't caught a single one since the murder at the temple.
You are beginning to look incompetent and unreliable to the council".
"Is that so?", "I think they are only being lenient because of your blindness, lord" she adds.
"Lenient?!", the word cracks from him, a vise tightening on his cup, gnarling his knuckles and etching deep furrows across his brow.
He grinds his teeth together and spits on the floor, "This food is sour. Wine", he commands, the word a raw, guttural demand.
Dorathy stands and moves to the next room where she spends a minute before returning with a bottle of wine and a glass.
She drops it on the table on pours the wine into the glass, she moves it to the Duke, "Here my lord, your glass of wine", she assists him until he has his grip on the glass.
"Leave me Dorathy. I want to be alone", he snarls.
"Of course", she gives a light bow and heads for the door, "Wait", he calls, "Thank you for your help and loyalty Dorathy", "Anything for you, my duke", she says and leaves.
Clarion sits alone for a while, feeling the absence, he stretches his hand downward and reaches for his cane.
It's top, branded in gold, he taps it on the ground and the door of his chambers lock themselves.
"Merryland, merry land, merry land, take me to merry land", he chants and a luminous light spreads throughout the room.
The room transforms into a dark dungeon.
Lying on the floor, chained and tattered lays the only surviving priestess of the slaughter at Merdona's temple.
She raises her head at the sight of her captor, she notices his eyes, "You have lost sight", she says.
The priestess scattered black hair falls onto her face, her skin looks dirty from neglect, "I saw her", Clarion says.
"Saw who my lord?" "The goddess, I saw Shiroi with my own eyes", he says with a disgusting smile.
Her catlike ears tweak at his words, "He can't be saying the truth. He is unworthy to see the goddess", she thinks.
Then the thought of his blindness comes to play.
She begins to laugh, "You heathen, the goddess has blinded you for you are unworthy", she says and the duke strikes her with his cane.
She screams and groans.
"Shut up. She wasn't alone, she was with someone else.
Someone who knew the words of the letter but he wasn't a priest. He had white hair and blue eyes", "The chosen one", the priestess cough and spits on the floor.
"The chosen one has been born and he will bring light to all that is evil, he will avenge my temple", she says.
"You have grown wings since I have refused to kill you", "Kill me already, let me join my sisters", she snarls and the duke strikes her again.
Blood trickle down the side of her head.
A wind begins to blow and the duke suddenly floats into the air.
A glass-like object appears, hovering in his palm with little shards around it, "You say she cursed me with blindness but with this I can see more than any mortal eyes can.
Your chosen one will fall, his head shall be my gift to you", he spits and laughs.