Malty sighed and gazed at Raphtalia with an intensity that she normally reserved for the nobles that irritated the Princess, "Raphtalia," she said as the world twisted around them, "prepare yourself."
They appeared high up in the sky with the glare of the afternoon sun blinding them for a moment, fell for a moment before the powerful mage took control of their descent, and started to near the ground. From their vantage point, the city looked surprisingly small and the mansion that was located on the hilltop, overseeing the town was paltry. Once they neared it, Raphtalia was surprised to find that it was small, but only compared to Malty's castle. The demi-human hadn't realized when she'd gotten used to the place.
"Is this it?" asked the red-haired woman with a solemn expression.
Raphtalia swallowed her apprehension and nodded. The Princess held her hand, "I'm here," she said. Two simple words, but ones she appreciated.
"Thank you," she whispered and led the way to the basement, each step, heavier than the next.
She remembered the despair, the helplessness and the pain when Rabier had taken her out of her cell in the basement, left Rifana behind and then flung her into the wagon's cage. He'd sold her back to the slave trader. No one had answered her questions with words. All she'd gotten in exchange for her concern was a shock every time she'd spoken.
Raphtalia flinched at the clanging sound of an armoured set of guards that approached, the barking of the dog-like monsters with glowing red eyes. She knew she was stronger than them. Faster than them. Even now, their approach felt achingly slow. She had a sword at her hip and her mana whirled within her demanding to be let loose.
She wanted to hurt them.
She failed.
Malty glanced at her and without even looking at their foes sent them flying with an absurdly powerful wind blast that pulverized them in utter silence. Raphtalia took in a deep breath and pushed onwards. She was scared. Scared of going back there again.
But she was more worried about Rifana.
The basement door was locked, Raphtalia cut through it with a single strike. She marvelled at her strength, but couldn't enter.
The smell of filth, blood and decay filled her nostrils and she was at Rabiers mercy again. Raphtalia shuddered as pain racked her body. Thin lacerations, her arms aching from being hung by the manacles for hours, her scalp in pain due to being flung around by her hair. It wasn't real. It couldn't be.
"Raphtalia," said a gentle voice dragging her out from her memories. She felt warmth as the Princess' arms encircled her. The tortured child clung to her saviour.
The smell was gone.
Raphtalia blinked and saw the filth for what it was. She took one step forward, after pushing Malty to the side, and then the next. Malty was at her side. They still held hands and the Princess had cast a small light spell that lit up the room. Another spell, a wind-based one, kept their noses clean.
A third burned the corpses of the dead children after Raphtalia confirmed that they weren't Rifana. Their ash swirled around the room before leaving their prison.
She was glad they would be free in death.
That bittersweet emotion faded when she faced the cell she had shared with Rifana. The rusted bars looked so different now that she was taller and stronger. So much more fragile. Raphtalia barely noticed as she swung her sword without any skill or focus and cut through it. Her eyes were on the slightly decayed body that looked so much like her friend.
But it couldn't be Rifana. Rifana was moving, always moving. Playing or acting or running around or speaking or something. She wasn't silent or quiet like Mama was sometimes. Rifana never stopped.
Raphtalia laughed, helpless. She cried, furious, and turned, after a minute of staring at the empty shell of her friend, to Malty, "Where is he?" she asked. Not caring that it was rude.
Malty looked blank. Not calm.
It was something that reflected what Raphtalia was feeling perfectly. "Idol Rabier is a part of the faction that once supported my father and currently serves the Church. I believe that he is working to track down the Shield Hero," said Malty, her tone was vicious. It cut through Raphtalia's anger at Malty's father, "I'll get my people to find him, but first, let's burn Rifana and free every other slave in this city."
The words and the sudden calm Malty effected was like ice water being poured over her head.
Raphtalia opened her mouth, but words failed her. She nodded.
Malty pulled her into a hug and spoke gently into the demi-humans ear, "They'll all pay for this, I promise."
Raphtalia had always disliked how scary Malty could be when they were fighting. The Princess had once told Raphtalia of all the nobles that she'd chosen to kill. She still remembered that entire families had been destroyed by her personally and many, many more were killed at her command. Malty's explanations that it was necessary had never made much sense, but she'd never said anything, fear and gratitude stopping her words.
Now? She was glad for her reluctance.
They deserved it. Anyone who'd support people who hurt Rifana and others like her did.
They would stop them. All of them.
No matter what.
