Hi ! I'll quickly leave this here before I go to bed. Please R&R !

CHAPTER 89

Blind with fury, Phil ran outside the castle. His blood was boiling like never before, his body wasn't his to control and his mind was set on one thing only. Find Hans and make him pay, no questions asked.

He went to the stables first, frantically searching stall after stall. Nothing. His fist banged a wooden door in frustration, startling the horse that was there. It was wearing its bridle, but no saddle. In a split second, Phil decided that it would have to do.

There was no way Hans would have assaulted Varian and stuck around. The streets around the castle were his best bet. He spurred the horse on its bare flanks, ignoring the calls from a patrolling Stan, followed by Pete, as ever.

"Hey, Pete, did Phil seem in a rush to you ?", Stan asked.

"I don't know," the lanky guard replied idly. "He didn't say anything to me. Did he say something to you ?"

"Of course, he didn't. You were there, silly ! And I can't believe he did this !"

"Riding a horse without a saddle ?"

"Not that, Pete, he didn't even salute !" Stan bellowed with frustration at his peer. "Can't you notice anything ?"

"Oh…. What should we do then ?"

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Varian had no idea he had passed out again until he awoke in his bed. The mattress he was lying on never felt so welcoming and a soft blanket had been pulled over him.

The first thing he registered was something soft pressing on his cheek and the sharp sting underneath. To make things worse, he was overwhelmed by a splitting headache. He gave a soft whimper and fluttered his eyes open, his frame twitching suddenly as he realized that there was a face hovering above him, close, too close. His brain was screaming "danger" and he started to hyperventilate.

"…no…" he breathed.

"Lad, it's ok now, you're safe, it's ok…", someone soothed. Everything was blurry. He could recognize the voice next to him but he was unable to name its owner. A gentle, yet firm hand rested on his shoulder to ground him. With little to no strength to move, Varian sucked in a deep breath and tried to regain his focus, until the face by him was familiar.

"… Alden ?" he rasped, his voice unrecognizable, even to him.

"Yes, Varian, I'm here. Don't speak, ok ? And don't move. I need to stop the bleeding on your cheek…That's a quite nasty gash that you've got here."

Varian, already on the verge of losing consciousness again, immediately cringed at the queasy feeling in his stomach. He had to force himself to stay still and let Alden blot up the blood that was still seeping from his wound. As he looked away, his mind recovered bits of memories, one by one.

Hans. The sword. The threat. The lack of air.

He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. His throat hurt.

"Phil….?" he mumbled, eyelids half open. It was painful to even speak.

"He'll be back soon, Varian. Just rest. You're safe now", Alden simply replied, forcing reassurance into his tone.

The man looked at the boy as he nodded and closed his eyes again, his young features relaxing slightly as he let himself drift off to sleep.

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How many streets could there be in a small town crumpled on a tiny island? And why would so many people be idly standing in the middle of them ? Phil's patience was growing thin. Every minute that passed gave more chances for Hans to escape.

Thinking fast, he decided to go down the main street leading to the bridge. As far as he knew, Hans didn't own a boat. So he would have to cross the bridge sooner or later.

As he got there, he squinted his eyes to see as far as he could. There was no way Hans could have already reached the bridge unless….

There were a few people on the bridge, most of them on foot. Then there was that rider, leaving the capital, his horse keeping a nice, steady trot. Not really the guilty attitude, but Phil could have recognized that silhouette anywhere. Of course. Hans was smart, he'd give him that. Galloping at full speed would have downright suspicious.

And so, the peaceful morning stroll for the townspeople suddenly became a dodging challenge as Phil's horse was spurred hard and dashed at full speed down the street and over the bridge. Some ducked, some shoved their partner out of the way, barely making it to safety themselves. A few hats ended up in the water.

"HANS", Phil roared as he approached the other man.

Hans had whipped around already. Even without Phil shouting his name, the running hooves had given away the presence of a pursuer.

It was too late though. Phil caught up in the blink of an eye and jumped off his horse, plainly launching himself on the older man. Hans couldn't do anything to steel himself as the younger man threw him off balance, his back hitting the bridge wall as they fell together.

Phil was fast to push himself up on his knees.

WHACK !

Phil punched Hans in the jaw for good measure and Hans's lip started to bleed. Then the young guard menacingly fisted his hands around the large lapels of his coat, forcing the other man to get to his feet. He was slightly smaller, but his eyes were burning with a rage that made him look much older than he actually was.

"Why ?" he snarled, his jaw tense and his knuckles white from the tight grip.

Hans blinked a couple of times and quickly regained his senses. His lips drew into a cocky grin that took Phil aback.

"Nice try, kid", he sneered. Before Phil could understand the meaning of his words, he felt a leg curling behind his, and he was swiped off his balance. Hans used the motion to make them both spin a 180° and gathered all his strength in his upper body to push Phil backwards. The young man's left hip hit the wall and all that was enough to tip him over the edge. Taken by surprise, Phil let go of the coat and ungracefully fell into the water.

Hans looked over the wall and shrugged, a disdainful pout on his face as all he could see were ripples at the surface. He brought this upon himself, he thought. Deciding that they had attracted attention more than enough, he wiped his bleeding lip and strode over to his horse who had stopped a few feet away. Phil's horse was out of sight, though, and Hans assumed that the steed probably galloped beyond the bridge and into the forest.

Hans saddled up and spurred his mount. Time to leave Corona, he thought. For now.

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Phil's world seemed to come to an abrupt stop as his whole body met the cool water. His tumble off the bridge deprived him of his sense of orientation, and he wasn't even sure in which direction to swim.

Oh wait.

He was sinking. He could feel himself be dragged down like a stone. Okay, now he knew where the bottom was.

He was carrying no weapons, but his coat of armor on his upper body and his sturdy boots were definitely weighing him down. No time to lose, his fingers fumbled to undo the straps on the side, while his other hand started to take off one of his boots, but the wet leather wouldn't slide off. Resisting the urge to stop in favor of kicking his feet to try to get back to the surface, which would have been useless with that extra weight, he focused on the armor, tension building up in him as his lungs already started to scream for air.

After the longest seconds of his life, he finally managed to open it and take it off. Swiftly, he moved both hands to one boot. He pulled with all the strength he could muster. He had to get rid of those stupid boots.

It took forever for the young guard's liking, but soon, the boots were sinking into the depths and he was swimming his way up for dear life. His chest was on fire and he started to suck in a breath when his head broke the surface. His arms flailing to keep him afloat, his strength ebbing, he coughed and gasped for air several times. He made it. He was alive.

But Hans was gone.

So I didn't made it as far as I wanted, but I figured you'd like this bit ! You can all be mad at me for letting Hans escape (nearly) unscathed...