Chapter 16 – Pit
Beta'd by A.O. Talmidge
"Where are you taking me?"
"You will see when we get there."
And that was the only answer Corrin received after her one-sided battle with the still unnamed swordsman. Only silence greeted her other questions. Eventually she decided there was no point agitating them anymore, just in case they decided she wasn't worth…whatever the reason they decided not to kill her for.
She glanced above, and though it was night, there were no stars, just the dim light of the not-sun. Her situation looked grim.
The cut above Corrin's eye still throbbed, but at least it wasn't actively bleeding anymore. All her other cuts and bruises ached as well, but the silent procession pressed onward to their unknown destination, heedless of her injuries. Even though she couldn't exactly see any of them except for the imposing man, she could hear that at least a good number of those who had surrounded her earlier were following behind.
An unsubtle reminder not to run or try anything.
Probably. Maybe they were just some sort of bandits taking her to their leader, and she'd get involved in some turf war between two opposing factions, and then embroiled in a larger conflict spanning this whole place and then…
She stopped her train of thought, biting her lip.
No.
She shook her head, dispelling the fanciful images. Obviously, this wasn't one of her novels in the Northern Fortress. This was real. She was a prisoner, and if she made a wrong move she would die.
Well, at least she was doing something, gaining real experience, even if this was simultaneously the most thrilling, frightening and dangerous thing she could remember. Nothing in the Northern Fortress could ever compare to it.
The trek continued into what looked like the remains of another large town or village, and the group headed towards the center. Silently, she wondered if there were any places here that weren't in ruin. There had to be, right? With her legs tired and her mind starting to become bleary, the procession came up to a set of ruins near the middle of the town.
Up a set of crumbling stone stairs was a large raised platform divided into four large sections. She could tell that it was the case because one of the four sections was missing completely, leaving a block shaped hole in the stone structure. Each section was large enough to fit a couple dozen people.
She mustered up her courage to ask, "What is this?"
The man, who had been travelling ahead of her the entire way, stepped aside and gestured forward, face impassive. "Get on. I want to see if you feel it."
Well, that was ominous. Still, it would be strange for them to lead her to a deadly trap when they had her at their mercy before, so it likely wouldn't kill her.
Hopefully.
Even so, she hesitated, glancing back at the people she couldn't really see behind her. Not much of a choice, really.
She carefully ascended the steps and placed a bare foot on to the nearest section of the platform, testing its weight. Solid. She stepped on to the middle of the closest section, and waited, trying to feel something.
Mostly she just felt tired. Maybe a little cold. Even the thrill had dulled to a low lull. Was something supposed to happen?
"Hmph. Seems your training was lacking."
She looked back confusedly at the man behind her. "What do you mean?"
He raised an eyebrow in return. "Can you not feel it? The power pulsing beneath your feet?"
"I'm… not sure what you're talking about."
The man stepped up the stairs and she heard more than saw a dozen of the others that were behind her before step on to the same section of the platform she was on. "You call them 'dragon veins'. Wellsprings of power that only those with the blood or blessing of dragons clearly in their ancestry can access. Surely you've at least felt them before?"
So did that mean they wanted someone of royal blood who could tap into dragon veins? She hesitantly shook her head. "I've never tried to tap into one before. Xander always warned me against trying because he said that while they were powerful, they were also unpredictable. I never had a chance to practice, since he didn't want me to accidentally destroy the Northern Fortress."
The man crossed his arms, letting out an unimpressed sounding scoff. "It sounds as though Xander only has a rudimentary understanding of what he was dealing with. Here. Let me show you what I mean."
A familiar pulse of power thrummed underneath her, not the thrill, but a similar feeling rose up in her chest. She was about to ask what that was, when the outer edge of the stone – in a way that she could only describe as melting – shifted up like liquid, forming a waist-high wall around the edge of one section of the platform.
He could tap into dragon veins? Then why bring her here? She carefully tapped the new formation with a finger, before sliding her hand across it. Unnaturally smooth, but solid, like stone. "Did you know that this dragon vein was going to do that?"
"Throw away your notion that dragon veins will only do one thing. Likely, you have heard tales of what your royals have used them for in their endless war. Drain rivers, flatten mountains, raze forests, snap-freeze entire bodies of water.
"But what they do is instinctual, driven by a desire to defeat their foes in combat. A dragon vein gives the one who taps into its wellspring the ability to shape the physical world around them. But it can be used for more than simply war. Even utilitarian purposes."
Her eyes narrowed. He knew about the Nohrian-Hoshidan war? How? "But aren't dragon veins rare? Using it like that would be wasteful."
The man smirked. "They aren't rare here. Even so, they are only remnants of something greater."
"Remnants? What do you-"
She cut off with an undignified yelp as another pulse of that power that shook the intricately carved stone underneath her. The surrounding ruined town seemed to sink. Wait, no. The intricately carved block of stone they were on was rising out of the ground.
She stumbled and grabbed on to the waist-high wall, which she now recognized as more of a railing. An involuntary cry of surprise escaped her, but the sound was lost to the wind as the entire block took off past the crumbling buildings into the air.
Flying.
What?
Corrin squinted her eyes as the wind whipped past, sending her hair trailing behind her. The wild landscape of this place rushed by in a cacophony of floating and moving landmasses, none of which she could clearly make out. The dim, moonlight-like light of the not-sun, combined with the ludicrous speed they moved made that nearly impossible.
She tried to shift her feet, but they felt glued to the stone. She soon figured out why, as her stomach lurched when the block abruptly started moving in a relative downward direction, just as quickly as it had been moving before. She would have been thrown from the block if her feet hadn't been stuck. Even so, her grip on the smooth railing tightened.
Assuming this man was telling the truth, all of it was done from the power from a dragon vein. She shivered slightly, not just from the chill of the wind as they towards their unknown destination. Everything was happening so fast.
Too fast. She glanced up at the dim not-sun. Had it really only been a day ago that she had been, well, whining to Camilla about being confined to the Northern Fortress? It seemed so childish now.
Arms crossed, the imposing man stood beside her at what was acting as the front of the flying block, seemingly unaffected by the wind or the sudden changes in direction. The violet flames which cloaked him hadn't dimmed, and though as she had discovered when she'd gripped his hand before, they didn't burn, they were still unnerving. His long, wild brown hair trailed behind him in the wind.
She winced as a twinge went through her mind.
Something about him struck her as familiar. Maybe his demeanor reminded her of Xander? He was poised, regal. Maybe he was used to leading these people?
Glancing back behind her, she saw nothing, even though she knew that the other ghostly escorts of her silent procession were still there behind her. None were currently trying to kill her, but their dead silence unnerved her.
Corrin gritted her teeth and looked away. Though she would never admit it out loud, ghosts still freaked her out. No, these weren't really ghosts – the cuts and bruises gained as she fought them could attest to that – but the irrational fear stayed.
Her stomach lurched the other way as the flying block moved in a relative upward slope, before it crested above the landline of another floating island. The speed of the block slowed, and a massive structure loomed ahead of her, situated on the largest of the floating islands she could remember seeing.
The imposing swordsman spoke, and the words were no longer lost to the wind now that they moved slower. "This is Castle Gyges, the seat of power here in Valla."
Valla? So that was the name of this place? Country?
In the dim light of the not-sun, she couldn't make out too many details, but for a castle it certainly looked more…ruined than any other castle she'd ever imagined. Squinting her eyes, Corrin could tell the work of the stone looked intricate, even though the details were lost to her in the dark.
From what she could see, it looked worn down. In some places, chunks of stone were broken off and missing completely, as if it had been under siege or attacked at some point in the past.
Oddly, there were no light sources that she could see. Even the relatively small Northern Fortress always had some light emanating from it somewhere at night. So for a castle to have none set her even more on edge. Maybe there were just none visible from here? Maybe further inside, or on another side?
Nothing about this was normal.
The block slowed even more, drawing ever closer to the looming structure. Was it going to land on a balcony or something?
Her question was answered by a glow from a set of runes on the side of the castle. The glow dissipated, and a section of the castle wall disappeared, leaving a massive hole – not one from decay, but what looked to be an intentional design – close to the top of the castle. You could fit several of the blocks she was standing on with room to spare through it. Corrin tilted her head up and still had trouble seeing the top spire of the castle. The whole thing was massive.
She was momentarily blinded from the lack of light as the block slipped through the gap into a short dark tunnel. Her eyes had almost adjusted when the block rocked to a stop.
Another pulse of power, and from the little light filtering in through the gap outside, she saw the solid stone railing of the block melt, reforming into a smoothly sloped ramp extending to the stone below. She could lift her feet again.
The man in front of her stepped down and she blinked as bright runes on the floor lit up, casting blue-tinted light on the surroundings. There were other intricately carved blocks in the area by the one she was on. Two slightly raised platforms – one blue, one brown – lay in the center of the hallway a short way in front the block, leading to what looked like a dead end.
Was this some sort of hub for travel?
The imposing man spoke as if sensing her unvoiced question. "Impressive, isn't it? The royal family once made use of these for travel where there were no transporters. It was only one of many ways that the Kingdom of Valla utilized the power of dragon veins."
Using it for something like this seemed rather…frivolous, but she was still wrapping her head around using them so casually. "So, does everyone here have access to them? How would people without draconic blood access them?"
The man shook his head. "They don't. But it no longer matters."
Corrin's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
"You can dwell on that another time. Anankos awaits you in the throne room."
As the man approached the dead ended hallway, the wall ahead of her lit up with runes, similar, but different than the ones shining as lights on the walls. They were just as indecipherable as the others, but she could tell they looked different. Maybe if – no, when, she needed to think positive – she got out of this, she could ask Leo about them.
The runes shone and the wall disappeared, opening a way deeper into the castle.
Well, one thing at a time.
Azura hadn't encountered any resistance at all on her current excursion into Valla, even in Castle Gyges itself. Her fingers clenched around the haft of her lance as she neared one of the balconies above the throne room. The lack of resistance was simultaneously encouraging and unnerving. Normally, she would have been attacked by this point.
Did that mean Anankos was changing tactics? Azura gripped her lance tighter. Or, hopefully, their focus was simply on something else outside of Valla. Both of those would be bad in the long run, but it was good for her right now. Even if she pitied whoever was on the receiving end of that attention were it the case.
Nearing the end of the hall, she crouched low, and passed the archway that marked the threshold of the throne room's balcony.
Below, the area looked more broken up than she had seen it before. A decorative column, or maybe two, were toppled where before they were upright, but otherwise the room looked similar enough to how she remembered. The throne itself, one of two fully intact things in the room, still sat upright. Behind that, Anankos' seal.
Unsurprisingly, the seal was still intact. Her hand moved to her pendant. She would know when it was broken. However, the gargantuan mask-like structure at the back of Gyges throne room was more cracked than Azura had seen in it before. Not a good sign.
Should she risk Cadros' song? It would delay the seal breaking more, but it would immediately act as a beacon to her presence.
Azura's breathed in sharply when she heard the sound of footsteps mixed in with the sound of…voices? The rune on the great door to the throne room shone and it disappeared. She ducked behind the archway of the balcony alcove, heart pounding loud in her ears.
As far as she knew, Anankos' servants, the once citizens of Valla, the Vallites, didn't speak. So did that mean there was someone else alive here? How, and more importantly, why?
Was there another Vallite that had managed to escape Anankos until now? No, that seemed unlikely. If there were any other Vallites still alive, they would know to stay far, far away from here. She carefully tilted her head around the archway, trying to present as little of herself as she could.
Through the stone railing of the balcony, she spotted two people walking into the throne room. At the front a young woman with light, silvery hair put in a ponytail to the side, possibly close to her age. She wore noble-looking silver and black Nohrian styled armor, with a dark blue cape fluttering behind her. Any other details were lost from the distance between them.
An unfortunate soul who had fallen into the currently open gate at the Bottomless Canyon? Well, it might explain why she had gone unnoticed until now this time.
However, her eyes widened as what should have been an impossibility entered behind the young woman.
Azura ducked back behind the archway again. Sumeragi. The king of Hoshido, dead for thirteen years, cloaked in the violet flames that marked him as a servant of Anankos. Azura had never known him, but Mikoto would be devastated to learn the fate of her husband.
Now what though? She had done what she came to do. Staying much longer would be a wonderful way to get herself killed, or worse.
But the alive young woman in the throne room…could she really just leave her to the fate that inevitably awaited her? Was it worth risking her life for someone she didn't know? She had no real love for Nohr, but she wasn't heartless.
It would be risky, but she could probably do it.
Her choice was taken away a moment later as the familiar rasp of a blade leaving its sheathe echoed behind her.
Castle Gyges' throne room wasn't at all like Corrin expected a throne room to look.
Well, no. That wasn't exactly right. The great door, which towered at least three times her height, opening by disappearing was impressive, if just by its sheer scale. Inside, the mosaic designs on the floor carved a long trail up to an impressive, if unused, looking throne.
It was what was behind the throne which made her pause. Another thing to add to a long list of things she thought no one would believe her about.
It looked like the head of a massive beast had crashed through the back of the room. And at the center of the wall, amid rubble, an upright titanic cracked stone-gray mask, tilted lightly at an angle. It reminded her of paintings of full face covering opera masks Elise had once shown her, but far more sinister.
Especially since even though the mask had its eyes closed, they seemed to be staring directly at her.
A surprised, feminine sounding yell echoed from somewhere above followed by the familiar clanking of weapons clashing, breaking the imaginary staring contest. Corrin tensed, glanced about, but saw no one.
"What was that?" she asked the imposing man warily.
"An intruder. They are being dealt with. No need to concern yourself with it." One of his hands, still cloaked in violet flames, landed on her shoulder. She tensed, eying the flames warily, even though they didn't hurt. "For now, sit on the throne."
"I…what?" The request caught her off guard. Wouldn't this guy's leader – Anankos, was it? – be the one who would be sitting here whenever he arrived?
"Just do it." The hand on her shoulder tightened pushing her forward slightly.
She shrugged off the hand on her shoulder, walking forward of her own volition. "Fine." Even so, when she stepped up to the throne, she hesitated. It was just a fancy chair.
Eventually, she sat. Though she couldn't really feel it through her armor, she imagined that the stone of the throne was cool to the touch. For a moment she sat there, feeling apprehensive, but mostly just tired and little bit foolish. She searched, but there wasn't even the feeling of a dragon vein either.
Wait.
She strained her ears. That sounded like…water?
The thrill had only a moment to trill a warning a moment before a tidal wave crashed into her mind.
So many voices all at once that it wasn't even voices anymore, just noise. An eternity passed into silence.
Then, a single voice. Not exactly menacing, but its intensity made her insides squirm.
You are early.
What?
For you to come here on your own is…unexpected, but not unwelcome. Garon was meant to send you.
King Garon? Her father?
No. He was never your father. Garon kidnapped you, called you his daughter. He only placed a binding on your memories when you were kidnapped. Let me remove that bind.
The tidal wave crashed through a mental barrier she hadn't even known existed. Images – no, memories – crashed through her mind. People she once called family. Places she intimately knew, but could barely remember. Everything swamped her consciousness, making her feel sick.
She had once lived in Hoshido.
But even they lied to you. You were taken from the people you called family. And eventually, your family in Hoshido gave up looking for you and replaced you with another. They betrayed you.
A question wormed its way past the flood in her mind.
Who are you?
I am Anankos, the Silent Dragon, ruler of the kingdom of Valla. I am glad you are here, for I need you to help me with something.
Why should she?
We are kin.
Kin?
Did you not often wonder about your heritage? The world may have forgotten what manaketes are, but I have not. I can help you realize your full potential, realize your birthright. Help me, Corrin. That is all I ask.
Her head hurt.
(If you don't willingly accept his offer, you will lose yourself completely.)
That voice was different. Not menacing. It was warning her. She immediately trusted them far more than Anankos, even though her instincts screamed against the idea.
"I will."
Good.
The tidal wave faded to a still pool. She was distantly aware of herself slumping on the throne. Something violet wisped up into her field of vision.
Then everything faded into a pit of silence.
Drip.
The sound of liquid echoed in tandem with the sound of bare feet slapping against a stone floor. Her footsteps.
Drip.
A drop of something landed near her.
Not from rain. Not water, either.
Drip.
Blood.
She opened her eyes. A torch situated in a metal hook cast flickering light on the uneven corridor. The stone of the walls wasn't completely smooth. Was it part of a natural cavern being used for something?
But, why was she here? She…couldn't exactly remember. She took another unsteady step forward.
She needed to get somewhere.
Where?
Anna blinked.
Drip.
Her arm pulsed with the heartbeat not her own, the black blood leaked, dripping out of her fingertips. Anna stopped moving. She was and wasn't in the corridor of the prison anymore.
Drip.
Nor was she in that cell anymore. Her entire field of vision was empty, bereft of anything distinct. It was all hazy, out of focus.
No, wait.
For a moment, she saw the stone of the cavern being used as a corridor from a moment ago, then the sand of a desert. She hesitantly stepped forward, before the desert snapped away as-
She blinked.
-she stumbled over a loose rock, her bare foot crunching painfully on its sharp edge. On instinct, her left arm went out to the cavern wall beside her to catch her fall. Her hand held against the surface of the rock, and she lifted her other hand to her aching head.
She stopped, catching sight of the pulsing black veins of the appendage. She could feel the pulse extending to her heart.
Drip.
"Who's there?"
A person – a guard? – came into view, a sword held loosely at his side.
"Wait, you're one of the prisoners that just came in. How did you get out of your…" He trailed off.
Drip.
"What…is that?" The sword he held was raised threateningly, as if to ward her off. "What are you?"
What did he mean?
Anna blinked.
An echo of the guard's surprised yell followed as she disappeared from his view. She took another step in the place of the not-corridor, her pace surer, more confident. Feet – one bloody from the rock, one not – crunched on sand as she trekked towards a colossal structure towering in the distance, stretching up past the sky.
The only thing distinctly in sight, in focus, among the barren dunes of the desert. She took another step towards the structure.
Drip.
Anna spared a glance behind her. The leaking black blood from the arm that wasn't hers was leaving a trail on the sand. Another trail of the substance floated behind her, droplets of it hanging in globules suspended in the air. Even as she watched, the drops bubbled, festered, burning holes into the sand. Into the air.
She blinked.
Someone in front of her startled, the torch they carried dropping in their surprise, casting looming shadows on the cavern wall as it fell to the floor. A knife was quickly stabbed towards her.
It lodged in her right forearm. She hadn't moved her arm to block that…had she?
Drip.
Anna blinked.
She knew that the knife in her arm should be causing her absolute agony. But for all intents and purposes, it wasn't her arm right now, so she couldn't feel it.
She was more worried about the yawning pits from the leaking black blood, expanding into a chasm that opened into the sand of the desert, into the air.
Drip.
She was making it worse, even though she knew nothing she could do right now would stop it.
She blinked.
"There she is! Surround her!"
Two guards blocked the stone corridor in front of her, and by the sound of it, more were behind her, blocking off escape from behind.
Drip.
"Surrender peacefully, and you won't get hurt."
She took a step forward, heedless of the warning. The guard who spoke seemed surprised a moment, but the other beside him swung his sword, the flat of the blade aimed at her head to stun her.
But it moved right through her. She took another step forward and moved through the guard.
How?
Anna blinked.
She moved through them because she wasn't really there, not entirely.
Drip.
The chasm in the desert and the air behind her had opened up into an abyss. A pit. Deeper and deeper it rotted and crumbled, ever downwards, slowly revealing a multi-leveled labyrinth spiraling lower into the pit. Curious, she turned and carefully peered into its unending depth.
Drip.
A drop of that blood dripped over the edge into that pit. Her view travelled with it as it did, falling endlessly. Until at last, she splashed onto the festering ground. In a moment she was in two places at once. Split.
She was in the bottom of that pit looking up at Anna.
Anna was standing at the top looking down at herself.
Thump.
The beat of an extra heart.
Anna blinked.
There wasn't anyone in the pit because there was no pit. Just her and the endless desert.
She turned back towards the towering structure and started walking again, more quickly this time. Her bare feet slipped into the ground of the stone floor of the prison's corridor a moment before the sand returned. Her bloody foot wasn't bloody anymore.
Anna blinked.
She had a walking companion. The one with six dead eyes on his cloak, the one who was and wasn't Robin.
He left no prints in the sand.
"Lost again are we?" There was an almost amused smile on his face. Nothing about this was funny.
"No. I'm heading to the tower, see?" Her voice was still there. Again, she had already found it before, so she really shouldn't be surprised.
Her right arm pointed unbidden at the structure, and the man's eyes followed her finger, which while still pulsing, no longer dripped blood. The knife from earlier was still there.
Thump.
The man squinted his eyes, but didn't seem to see anything. "If you say so."
Her arm lowered as they kept walking pace increasing to something furious. "So, how are you here? Didn't you say you were dead?"
"Well, maybe dead isn't the right word. Dead normally means there's a body, but the one I initially thought was mine is still walking around with you and that kitsune."
"So what are you then?"
"Honestly, I'm still figuring it out myself. An aggregate of memories, a consciousness, a personality? It's hard to tell." The man shrugged, and the world didn't move. "Even so, I feel like I'm slowly slipping away piece by little piece, floating amidst thousands in a similar situation. I've only found one of them that actually talks back, and he's not exactly all there. Bit rough talking to someone who's slightly insane, if you know what I mean."
She didn't know how to respond to that.
"By, the way." He pointed, his finger hovered over the handle of the knife still embedded in her right forearm. "Doesn't that hurt?"
"It's not my arm right now." That explained everything. Obviously.
Thump.
"And you're really not worried about that at all?"
"Should I be?"
"Very."
She blinked.
She stood in front of a locked cell, its occupant, a kitsune, wounded. They startled and looked at her warily through the bars before his eyes widened.
"Anna?"
That was her…right?
Close enough.
He looked closer. "Is that you? Where did you come from…? There were guards running by before, was it because you escaped somehow?"
She didn't answer because she didn't know.
"Actually, no, never mind. Are you alright?" His eyes widened as she stepped into the light of a nearby torch, looking towards the arm. "You, uh, have a knife in your arm."
It wasn't her arm.
Thump.
She lifted her right arm up and reached into the lock of the cell door. It passed right through until it encountered resistance halfway through. Until after a small shift, it didn't.
The lock wasn't there at all anymore. She swung the cell door open.
Job done, she moved through the bars into the cell and towards the back wall, onwards to her real destination.
Thump.
The kitsune quickly, but clumsily backed into the corner away from her. She paused, halfway through the wall, her eyes tracking his retreating form.
He stopped. They stared at each other a long moment.
"How are you doing that?"
Thump.
Anna blinked.
Her foot pushed down on what should have been solid ground, but there was nothing to set her foot on. A pit. It was different from the one before, not unnatural, just a chasm surrounding the towering structure in the desert. There was nothing to grab on to.
She was so tired. She let her momentum carry her forward, downward.
Something grasped her leg and her body swung, crashing painfully against the cliff face. Twisting her head to look up, she saw herself.
Every Anna looked similar, but there were always differences if you knew where to look. Her savior looked exactly like her.
Thump.
Down to the knife in her arm.
The Anna that shouldn't be here grinned. And spoke. The voice was in her head, mingling with her own thoughts, chiding, guiding. She'd already heard it before.
Because it may as well have been her own thoughts.
With strength not hers they hauled Anna up out of the pit and tossed her over the chasm to the towering structure.
She blinked.
Shouts of alarm greeted her arrival. It looked like an office. In front of her a man with white hair and six eyes on his hand stared at her, confused.
She was here. Now what?
Something passed through her and smashed onto the desk she realized she was standing in, sending some sort of liquid spilling across the wood. She turned toward the aggressor.
The reason she was here.
Thump.
Shura was ready to make his move when a woman with red hair appeared out of nowhere, pulled a bloody knife out of her arm and stabbed it with ridiculous ease through Kotaro's head. All while standing in the daimyo's desk. The goblet he must have reflexively swung down like a knife at her when she appeared phased right through her.
The goblet rolled off the desk and clanged loudly to the floor.
Shura was just as shocked as the other four alive in the study. He didn't know what kind of magic let a person do something like that, but frankly he didn't want to.
The deed was done. Kotaro was very clearly dead. And somehow, Shura was still alive.
Now he had to get out of here.
The other ninja in the room dashed forward in a noble yet foolish attempt to avenge the daimyo. His weapon had just as much an effect on the woman as the goblet, passing through like she wasn't fully there.
In the time it took the ninja to do that, Robin took up the chair he'd been sitting on and swung it into the back of the ninja's head, knocking him to the floor. Shura darted forward at the opening, wrestling with the man's knife a moment before plunging it into his neck.
The two guards who had brought Robin in stood still with mouths agape. Looking back and forth between him and Robin and the woman whose whole body had started was flickering, like a candle flame sputtering near the end of its wick.
They clearly didn't get paid enough for this.
The private office shook lightly and the distant sound of an explosion echoed past the door. His crew's distraction finally coming to bear, even though the red-haired woman had perhaps unknowingly done more than anything they did ever could. Though they couldn't know that.
Taking advantage of the guard's confusion, Shura chucked a handful of spicy chili powder from a pouch at his side towards the one with a sword, temporarily blinding them. He leapt forward, ducking past a hasty thrust of the other guard's naginata before quickly snapping a wrist, breaking it, and disarming them of their weapon. He returning the pointy end straight back into them.
He readied to deal with the other one, but Robin charged into them, knocking them over. A brief brutal struggle and the other one lay dead. Clearly he was used to more than just magic for battle. Good thing, since his magic was locked by those seals.
"So, Robin is it?"
Robin eyed him warily. "And you are?"
Shura took of the mask and hood of his disguise. Seeing faces generally would put people more at ease. "Name's Shura, leader of a band of likeminded rogues. I infiltrated Kotaro's elite guard to take him out, but, well..."
Shura's eyes flicked to the flickering form of the red-haired woman. As he watched, her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed onto the floor, out of the desk. "She beat me to it."
Robin quickly went over to the unconscious woman. "Her name is Anna."
So she was one of the merchant sisters? What was one of them doing with an assassin? "You planned this with her?"
Robin shook his head, mouth set in a grim line as he checked her pulse. "No. We were heading to Suterursu looking for information. That guy in the black cloak captured us and brought us there. This," he gestured to the corpses, "was unexpected."
"Well, planned or not, it made my job easier." Shura paused, considering his options. Should he offer to take Robin with him? Well, if nothing else, it would be interesting to hear the kid's story. "I'm about to get out of here. You're free to come with me if you like."
Robin didn't turn to face him. "You're not going to try and force me?"
Shura snorted. "Kid, I don't care what you do."
"Kid?"
"Talk to me again when you're going on fifty and I may consider calling you something else. So, what's it going to be?"
Robin paused, considering. "I have another friend I need to find here first. Then maybe I'll consider it."
Shura shrugged. "Your funeral. If you do end up surviving, my crew is rendezvousing at the northwestern edge of Suterursu in a tavern called the Black Lotus. The proprietress is sympathetic towards us. We'll leave at dawn with or without you. "
"Got it." Robin grabbed the sword off of the guard he'd taken down. "Could you take Anna with you when you go there?"
Shura rolled his eyes. "Fine." He went over to the unconscious Anna sister, picked her up and grunted as he slung her over his shoulder. Her right arm hung in front. Oddly, she had what looked like a black tattoo in the pattern of her veins running up her right arm, disappearing up the sleeve of her shirt.
Her turned to Robin. "Your friend is probably being held in the prisons. There's a way to access it nearby. If you can get your friend out, remember, the Black Lotus before dawn." He shifted the merchant sister to a more suitable carrying position. "I'll leave her in the proprietress' care regardless."
"Thanks." And Robin was out the door.
Shura shook his head. Kids. This would come back to bite him somehow. He just knew it.
A/N: Everything is connected.
Also, wow this one was tough to write. I'm satisfied with how it turned out though. Thoughts?
