The next morning, it was raining. I was awoken by a servant, a small boy, who went about awakening me by prodding my side with a wooden spoon. He informed me (in terribly bad English) that Logan was making an announcement this morning and that everyone needed to be present.
I went through my everyday routine of pulling on my clothes and brushing my long hair out. When I approached the fireplace, I saw that clothes had been set out that were not there before. They were women's clothes. If I was just an assassin-in-training, why would Logan both clothing me?
I picked up the jacket first; it was a long-sleeved black jacket with gold embroidery on the collar and the sleeves. The pants where the same black color. There was also a black belt with a large, shiny gold buckle and brand new black leather boots. I looked at myself in the mirror after getting dressed and I was impressed; I actually looked the part of a formidable foe.
I adjusted my new belt and holsters once more before opening the doors. That servant boy had told me to report to the front of the castle. I made my way there (with navigational help from the kitchen staff) and Logan was waiting on the balcony. He curtly nodded for me to stand to the side, next to a few of the royal guards. A large crowd had gathered in front of the castle steps. My eyes scanned the crowd.
It began to rain harder as a hush fell over the crowd and Logan spoke. My eyes went to Major Swift as he was brought out, shackled, in his pajamas.
"No!" I whispered, jumping towards him. I was restrained by two guards. I fought them, struggling towards Major Swift. He glanced at me with sad eyes, but forced an apologetic smile. Logan began to speak to the crowd as he gestured to Swift.
"No-" I began to shout, but one of the guards put his hand over my mouth and pulled me back.
One of the soldiers holding Major Swift shot him.
I hated Logan. I hated him so damn much. I kept struggling, scanning the crowd. My eyes flew to a blonde head in the crowd, staring straight at me. Ben.
He began to push through the crowd, with another man in tow. I fought the guards that were holding me, trying to scream and pull. I bit the soldier's hand, causing him to let out a string of rather undesirable expletives. Logan nodded at the soldier and he grabbed me around the middle, yanking me back inside the castle. I kicked and fought, and he let me go once the crowd was out of sight. I ran for my room and began to gather my things. I figured that Logan would want to find some way to punish me for acting up during his announcement.
I grabbed my rucksack from its hiding place and threw it over my shoulder. I could hear Logan's men yelling outside of the door. They were coming to take me to him.
I searched for another opportunity for an escape. The door would be swarming with soldiers in mere seconds. There were windows, but the drop was far.
It was a risk I would have to take.
I slammed the doors shut and moved a chair in front of them, wedging it underneath the doorknob to seal it shut. I ran to the window and pushed it open, looking down. I was very, very far from the ground.
My first thought was the bedsheets. I ripped the covers away, grabbing my knife from my belt and slicing the sheets into thick strips. I was startled by banging on the door, but I kept slicing. I tied all of the strips together and tied the end of the makeshift rope to the bed. I tossed it out of the window and glanced down. It gave me a direct lead to the kitchen, which was the only path for my escape.
I began to descend the rope, bracing my feet against the bricks for support. I could hear the door splitting and guards rushing inside. One of them noticed the rope because his armored head popped out of the window. After I heard him yell to his fellows, I picked up the pace and hurried to get down the rope.
I suddenly heard a gunshot and felt a searing pain in my arm. I crashed to the ground, landing on my back. I was still for a moment, paralyzed by the pain in my arm and the crash-landing on my back. I sat up with my head spinning, noticing the soldiers now running down the stone stairs after me. I covered the wound with my hand and ran through the kitchen, up the stairs, past the grand staircase, and out the castle doors. A guard at the door tried to grab me, but I quickly drew my pistol with my good hand and shot him in the chest. I ran until I couldn't run anymore, barely making it to Bowerstone Market. I had to avoid drawing attention to myself (which wasn't easy because there was blood pouring out of my arm).
I thought of Ben. I wonder where he had gone. Back to the rebel base, probably. I knew I wouldn't be allowed there.
I sighed and winced as my arm throbbed painfully. Next to the bridge, there was a set of stairs leading to the path next to the river from Bowerstone Industrial. I went down the stairs and found a place to sit under the bridge.
I sat on the cold ground and dangled my legs over the side towards the water. My hand was covered in blood. I took off my bloody jacket carefully and set it next to me, reaching in my bag. I found my old white shirt and tore off a few strips of fabric. Using one of the strips, I carefully dabbed at the wound, wincing with every touch.
"Are you alright?"
I heard a male voice and looked up, seeing a tall man in rather common clothes. He had short brown hair, brown eyes, and a strange sword hanging off his back. I glanced at my arm and back to him.
"I'm fine," I lied, wiping more blood from my upper arm and wincing again. He kneeled down next to me and took one of the strips.
"Here, let me," he said, gently taking my arm and dabbing at the wound. I would've protested, but I really did need his help.
It turns out that the bullet only grazed my arm, leaving a small, but deep gash on my arm. He used a few of the strips to create a bandage for the wound.
"Thank you," I said after he was done. Instead of standing up, he took a seat next to me, also dangling his legs over the side.
"How did that happen?" he asked, nodding to my arm. I looked away and sighed.
"You were shot, weren't you?" he asked. I didn't say anything.
"What's your name?" he asked. I turned to him and raised my eyebrow. He was casually looking at me.
"What's yours?" I asked. He chuckled.
"That's how it's going to be, is it?" he said. "Well then, my name is Leon. Now tell me yours."
"It's Terra."
He nodded and chuckled again. He was young, and very handsome. Probably around my age.
"Wait, Terra?"
"Yes?" I said, looking at him. He sounded urgent. He looked me over carefully.
"Ben Finn is looking for you!" he said, standing up and gesturing for me to join him. "Come, quickly!"
Before I knew it, I found myself following Leon through the streets of Bowerstone Market. He lead me towards Bowerstone Industrial.
"I can't go to the rebel base," I said as we jogged through the street. "Page shot me last time I was there."
"You have a knack for getting shot, don't you?" he joked. "She will understand. When the Prince of Albion brings you into the base, she has to comply, whether she wants to or not."
The prince? Of course! Leon was the prince's name! From what Reaver had said in the past, I gathered that he was also involved in the Bowerstone Resistance. I should've known. I didn't say anything, however. My pride was bruised enough from my encounter with Logan.
Wasn't I supposed to be returning to Reaver's mansion right now? Would he notice my absence? It didn't matter now. He would be fine either way.
The prince lead me to the door to the sewers, the very same door that I snuck through about a week before.
"Are you sure this is okay?" I asked as he dragged me through the door to the alcove area. He turned to me and raised an eyebrow.
"Do you honestly think that I would lead you somewhere unsafe? Ben is an excellent marksman and the owner of several guns, none of which I would like to be on the end of," he said, smiling reassuringly. I smiled back and my heart thudded in my chest. I was madly anxious to see my old friend once more.
He dragged me through the door to the map room, getting plenty of confusing looks from Page's men and several rebel soldiers.
"Leon," I mumbled, aggravated. "Everyone's looking at me, you know."
He laughed and nodded, approaching a large map table. Page was there, as well as Sir Walter. Ben was directly across from Leon and I. The first thing Page did was pull out her pistol.
"What is Reaver's puppet doing here?" Page asked, her gaze shifting between Leon and I. He waved his hand and let me go.
"She's no one's puppet. She's a friend to us, and a friend to Ben. I think we should give them a moment alone," Leon said, looking between Walter and Page. Ben kept his eyes on me, almost as if him looking away would make me disappear. Page growled at me and cocked her pistol as she followed Leon and Walter out of the map room, shutting the door behind her.
I looked at Ben and he looked at me. After a moment of staring, the old smile spread across his face and he opened his arms.
"Aw, Terra, seven years of not seeing me, and no hug for you old pal Ben?" he laughed, walking towards me. I put my hands on my hips and gave him a skeptical look.
"You left without saying goodbye."
He frowned and lowered his arms, peering into my green eyes with his blue ones.
"About that...I looked for you. If I had to say goodbye to you, then I never would've left."
"You should've grown a bloody pair, then, and said it," I growled, narrowing my eyes at him. He looked guilty for a moment before letting an old smile creep onto his face.
"As venomous as ever, eh? I missed you, fish," he said, smiling wider, if that was even possible. I smiled back.
"I missed you too, Ben."
It seemed that he had changed a great deal. He had grown to be quite handsome; he still had a mess of yellow hair about his head and he still had a sense of youth and freedom. He was taller and his shoulders were more broad. He had a rifle strung across his back with a fancy-looking cutlass.
"Well, Captain Finn of the Swift Brigade, it's an honor to be in your presence," I joked, saluting him. He laughed and looked at the ground.
"As you were, soldier," he said, gesturing to my hand at my forehead. "Besides, aren't you just as honorable as I am, Captain Terra?"
I shook my head. I looked up at him, remembering all of our times in the past. Now, it felt like he never even left. I found myself putting my hand on his shoulder and looking into his eyes. They were filled with the most bloody conflicting mixture of joy and sorrow that I had ever seen before.
"Swift was a great man. You meant a lot to him," I mumbled, looking up at Ben. He gave a sad, crooked smile.
"I've had my time to be angry," he said, balling his hands up into fists before sighing again. "But you see it, don't you? Logan has to be stopped."
"I know that," I retorted, removing my hand from his shoulder and placing it on my hip once more. His eyes wandered around until they stopped at the wound on my upper arm. He raised an eyebrow.
"Do I want to know?" he asked, looking up at me. I smiled and shrugged, and somehow it didn't hurt anymore.
"Probably," I said, looking around for somewhere to sit. "It would make a damn good story." He directed me to a set of chairs and tables nearby, taking two flagons and filling them to the brim. He took the seat across from mine and leaned forward expectantly with his blue eyes shining.
Avo, how I missed him.
