Lucina burst through the rubble with a gasp, hurling off the piece of rubble that had landed on her arm. When she tried to move it, a sharp pain jolted up her elbow, and she hissed.
"You okay?" Geralt said, pulling himself free from an upturned water trough.
Lucina glanced down at her arm–an arm that was moving a lot slower than she felt it should–and replied, "I'm fine."
Geralt huffed, and he glanced around them at the rubble, at the buildings blazing around them. "He's slippery, I'll give him that."
"Smart, too. I've no doubt he'll return with a more formidable force." Lucina sighed. "They're surprisingly on the same page–for bandits, that is."
"Like I said, Victor and Vincent have many, many friends."
"Not much good that did Vincent. His men abandoned him at the drop of a hat. Victor, on the other hand, seems to have been more careful with the men he's brought." Narrowing her eyes, Lucina let a scowl cross her face. "The last time, I managed to escape with my life because Vincent's men were ready to abandon him once he was dead. This time, I don't think I'll be as lucky."
Which left leaving the town as her only option. As much as Lucina hated leaving the town to its fate, she had Emmeryn to worry about; she couldn't afford to risk her life to save a few inconsequential lives.
Except she already had, hadn't she?
Lucina groaned into her palm. "We're going to have to leave town. I just hope that'll convince the bandits to take after me, if only in the hopes of catching me before I get away."
"Hey, any option that doesn't involve us risking our necks is okay by me. Let's ditch these chums and get outta here," Geralt said, shrugging.
Lucina winced. Yes, if it didn't work, she would be abandoning the town, Anna, her daughters and Gregor, to their death.
No, Anna is a slippery woman. She'll find a way. She always does.
Whether it was selling out to bandits or Risen, she always found ways to turn the tables and come out in one piece, so Lucina pushed her worries back into the depths of her mind, clenched her teeth, and pressed on.
As she strolled through the empty streets, her eyes peeled for the slightest movement between the ever-growing wreckage around her, she couldn't help but be reminded of her time in the future–abandoned towns wrecked by Risen, strewn with fire and death, her friends and her calling out over the crackling of the flames for any survivors.
She was silent now, her lips sealed and her breathing slow just so she wouldn't inhale any smoke and give away her position to the bandits scouring the town, looking for her.
They passed by an abandoned medicine shop, and as they turned the corner, Lucina found herself back in the marketplace. She spotted the fruit stand she'd been at earlier that day, now upturned and abandoned, just like the rest of the stalls around it. Were she desperate, she could take one of the apples off the floor and the stall owner would be none the wiser.
But even Lucina had enough pride not to resort to thievery.
"Sweet. Free stuff," Geralt said, and he picked an armful of apples off the floor. When Lucina gave him a sharp look, he glanced down and offered one to her. "Hungry?"
"Not enough to eat off the floor," she said, making a face.
"A hungry thief is a dead thief. Eat before you can regret it." Lucina's face didn't lighten up when he tossed her the apple, but as much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She took a bite and tried not to look too pleased with the feeling of actual food in her mouth. She took a bite, then another, and then soon she had stripped the apple of its flesh.
With the core in hand, she glanced around for anywhere to dispose of it–after all, her mother had always said it was unbecoming to toss garbage to the street–but when she could not find any, she stuffed it into her pocket.
"Why'd you do that?" Geralt said, finishing his own apples.
Lucina frowned. "It's rather rude to leave garbage lying around."
"It's not as if anyone's gonna see."
"I'd much rather dispose of it in the forest."
Geralt stared at her hard and long, before he shrugged and tossed his apple cores over his shoulder. "Suit yourself."
Something loud and wooden snapped against the ground. Lucina and Geralt's attention snapped to the stall down the street. Down to the blacksmith's stall, to the upturned box of swords, to the pair of guards digging through the weapons scattered on the floor.
Lucina cursed, the memory of her previous confrontation fresh in her mind. She ducked behind a nearby stall, dragging Geralt with her as she made her way towards where she last remembered the exit to be.
"What's the rush?" Geralt hissed as he staggered past the curtain of fabrics dangling off a display rack.
"I'd rather not be questioned by the guards right now," Lucina replied. "The sooner we get out of here, the better, isn't it?"
She said that, but no sooner did the words leave her mouth did she stop, eyes wide, as three guards stepped out in front of her: the captain and a pair of guards.
Their eyes met. Lucina froze. The guards exchanged a look.
"Seize them!" the guard captain said, pointing their way.
You must be joking, Lucina thought, clenching her sword tight.
Lucina ducked, and the first lance sailed over her head. She stepped forward to get a stab, but a second jab forced her back.
In times like these, she really missed having Falchion by her side. One swipe, and she could have lopped the lance heads off, but here she was, standing at the end of a pair of sharp iron lances and at the end of her wit.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Geralt reach for a sword on the ground. The captain noticed this too, and he kicked it away.
"Don't think you're getting away this time," he said, prodding him back with a poke of his own lance.
"What other choice do you have?" Lucina shot back. "The bandits are here! They're destroying your village! Let me escape, and the bandits will follow."
"I'm not going to take that chance. I'd rather take things into my own hands than hope they'll follow you out of town."
Which was fair, Lucina supposed. Decisiveness like that was good to have in a leader–it was how she had kept her and her friends alive when all seemed lost–but when that decisiveness was turned against her, Lucina felt she could be forgiven for letting her irritation bleed through.
Behind her, she heard the pair of guards she had stumbled upon earlier close in. Surrounding her on both sides was by no means a bad tactic–had they the chance to close in, it would be difficult for her to escape.
But a quick glance over her shoulder, and she saw it would take time for them to close the trap. She would be damned if she would let that happen.
Lucina turned heel, raised her sword, and charged. She heard Geralt dash after her, heard the captain curse and give chase. The pair of guards in front of her, initially taken aback, quickly readied their lances to catch her.
The main benefit lances offered was range–with a handle so long, keeping her away was a simple matter, and it was almost impossible for her to land a stab from this distance. Fortunately, she had no need to–Lucina swung her sword to the side, brushing the lances away. Before the guards could recover, Geralt squeezed through and landed a kick on the first guard's face. He cried out in pain and smashed against the stall. The other guard cursed and swung his lance to knock Geralt aside. Big mistake. Lucina ducked under his clumsy swing–a swing not even aimed for her in the first place–and drove the hilt of her sword into the man's chin.
He grunted. He staggered back. Geralt was in his face before he could recover, and his fist smashed into the side of the man's face. The man crumpled against the side of the stall. Geralt shook his fist, grinned, and took off after Lucina as she dashed out of the marketplace and back between the houses.
"You sure you know the way outta here?" Geralt asked as soon as he caught up.
"It shouldn't be too long now," Lucina replied. She glanced over her shoulder to see the captain still on her tail. Briefly, she wondered if he would give up the chase once she had breached the town walls–she hoped he would return to defend the town, but this was a desperate situation, and she knew how desperation drove men to madness.
Geralt grumbled, "Well, I think it just got a lot longer."
Lucina opened her mouth to ask what he meant, before she turned back to see what was up ahead.
At the other end of the road was Victor, backed this time by ten more fearsome-looking bandits.
Guards behind them, bandits ahead. What a lovely situation they'd found themselves in. No way forward, no way back–it was times like these that Lucina found herself trusting the age-old adage of taking the third door for herself.
Turning to her left, Lucina raised her foot and slammed it against a nearby door. All she got for her efforts was a loud bang as the door shuddered. She cursed and kicked again, and the door gave away.
Not fast enough.
She raised her foot one last time, but Geralt stopped her.
"You can't fit a square peg in a round hole, dear," he said.
Lucina shot him a look. "What are you talking about?"
Instead of responding, Geralt grabbed the sword out of her hands and smashed it against the handle, knocking it free and to the ground. He dove inside. Lucina hissed, not too happy about having her weapon stolen from her, and dashed after him. Behind her, she heard the guards and bandits come together with cries of pain and cries of steel as the bandits and guards came together in a blur of bodies and blades. She dared not look back, even as she heard a few run inside after her.
There was a back door. Geralt slipped through without a hitch. Lucina, however, stopped to kick a table over. She looked around just in time to see a guard stumble over the table. He pushed himself off the ground and snarled.
Then gasped, as a sword pierced through his chest. The bandit behind him grinned, and raised his eyes to meet Lucina.
Lucina turned tail and fled before he could grab her, out the door and chasing Geralt's fleeting footsteps.
He stopped by an alley, and ducked inside. Before Lucina could ask what he was doing, he began to clamber over a nearby wagon and hauled himself up on the rooftop. Hearing the sounds of the bandits closing in, Lucina followed. She glanced down just in time to see someone burst through the back door, out into the alley, and past where they stood.
Lucina sighed, and her shoulders slumped in relief.
"Which way is the way out?" she asked, turning to Geralt. The former bandit jerked a thumb over his shoulder, to the other side of the village not yet engulfed in flames. Lucina nodded, huffed, and snatched the sword out of his hands before she headed off in that direction.
She could see more bandits beginning to fill the streets–worryingly, she had yet to catch sight of any other guards. If the guard force truly was this small, this town truly stood no chance against the bandit onslaught. If the bandits chose to pursue her or not, she could not stay here either way.
Finally, they came across a street too wide for them to jump across. Lucina hoisted herself down, not waiting for Geralt to do the same as she started sprinting down the road.
Only to stop.
On the other side of the road, Gregor and Anna stared back at her, in the middle of ushering her daughters the same way, and as soon as they saw their mother stop, they stopped too and turned, curious to see what was going on.
"Where are you going?" Lucina asked.
Anna winked. "The same way everyone else is, dear. Out."
Everyone else? Lucina looked around, and sure enough, she could spy several more people, all of them heading in the same direction. Huddled together, hoping the bandits were distracted long enough for them to flee.
And now she was just another face in the crowd. Fleeing while the rest of the village burned behind her. What would her father say to her if he could see her now?
"Heading out too?" Anna asked, nudging her with her elbow.
"We're all leaving," Lucina replied, deadpan.
"Really? I never would have guessed. Say, while you're here, you wouldn't mind helping me with the kids, would you? This whole business's got them spooked."
"I really shouldn't–" But before she could get another word in, she grunted as one of the girls hurled herself into Lucina and hugged her.
"You came back!" she cried.
Lucina looked down. The lack of a scarf or bear, the polished boots, this must have been Sleepy Anna. She glanced back, and though the other daughters weren't nearly as close, she could see hope briefly flicker in their eyes. She had brought them hope. Her, of all people.
Lucina's face softened. "Yes," she mumbled. "I suppose I did."
Beside her, Geralt smirked. "You certainly have your ways with the young ones, don't you? Like a second mother to them."
"That's ridiculous," Lucina huffed back. "I've not done anything special."
"Special or not, why don't we save the talking for when we've hit the road," Anna said, clapping her hands. "Let's keep it moving, people!"
"You heard her," Lucina said, turning to the girl wrapped around her waist. "Let's go."
Taking her hand, Lucina guided Sleepy Anna off her and toward the exit. Anna ushered the other three forward, Gregor following close behind with a bag of Anna's wares. Geralt slunk after them, something which Gregor didn't look too happy about.
"Why is bandit following behind?" he asked with a scowl.
"I'm not a bandit, I'm a thief," Geralt shot back. "There's a difference."
"Not very big difference. Both steal for living."
"You don't seem to have a problem working for a thief."
"Hey!" Anna shot back, hands on her hips. "For your information, I'm a locksmith. Not a thief. There's a difference."
"Just saying, if it walks like a duck and talks like a duck, you can't say it's a goose."
"Everyone, please," Lucina said, groaning. "We have more pressing matters to focus on."
"Like the bandit attack, right?" Anna's grin faltered for a moment, and she gazed at Lucina with narrowed eyes. Even before she opened her mouth, Lucina had a sinking feeling of what she was about to say.
"The bandit attack you said wasn't supposed to happen, right? What did you mean by that?"
"I wasn't talking about the bandit attack."
"Then what were you talking about? The civil war? Dear, civil wars happen, especially after the monarch dies. Have you seen what's happening in Plegia? It's hardly a rare occurrence."
"Not here. Not like this."
"Care to elaborate?"
Lucina huffed, her head sinking lower. "There's no time."
This time, it was Geralt who spoke up. "We've got nothing but time. It's not like you're busy saving anyone, right?"
Lucina's shoulders hitched. She stopped.
Yes. She wasn't saving anyone. Not like in the future. She was running.
Did that mean she was a coward? No, no it didn't. She didn't have the back-up of her friends with her. It was simply... how did Morgan always put it... a tactical retreat. Yes, that was all it was. She wasn't running because she feared the bandits. She was running because she did not have the resources to mount a resistance.
But then... why did the thought make her skin crawl so much?
Deep breath in. Deep breath out.
If father could see me now, what would he say?
He would be disappointed in her. He wouldn't say he was angry–Gods, he never got angry at her–but she could tell from the way he frowned that he thought she could be better. She could do better. If he were here, he wouldn't care that he didn't have a man on his side. He wouldn't care that the town guard was out to get him. He would march right back there because it was the right thing to do.
Lucina wasn't her father.
But... the townspeople, scared and afraid... just like the people in the stable, helpless, afraid, crying for help... even then, she couldn't just sit there and let them perish. Why should this time be any different?
"They're here!" someone gasped behind her.
Lucina turned around. Sure enough, there were the bandits, approaching, their axes and swords bristling in the air, the town burning behind him.
She looked over her shoulder. There was the exit. If she made a break for it, she could leave right now, disappear into the forest. Leaving the town to their fate.
Sleepy Anna whimpered below her and squeezed her tight. Lucina looked down for a moment, then spared a glance back at the exit. Her eyes closed. She made her choice.
"Go."
Anna's daughters looked up at her, hesitant. Lucina scowled, and she glared down at them. "What are you waiting for?" she barked. "Go! I'll hold them off!"
"You heard the lady," Anna said, peeling Sleepy Anna off her. "Let's get going, girls."
The other daughters were quick to follow after Anna, but Sleepy Anna stopped to give Lucina a look. "But... what about you?"
"What about me?" Lucina said. "If I am here, I shall not stand by and let things take their course. Live or die, I'll do it standing on my own two feet."
Beside her, Gregor stepped forward, eyes narrowed. "Gregor shall help."
"No. You're not," Lucina snapped. "I won't be there to save you this time. If you're going to do nothing but die here, you may as well not be here at all."
Gregor's eyes narrowed, but he could see his help was not welcome. Lucina eyed him as he turned to help Anna guide her children away, and as she felt the smallest weight lift off her shoulders, she realized that, even after all that had happened, she still couldn't bear the thought of him being hurt. He was still her Uncle Gregor after all.
She glanced to her other side, where Geralt stood anxiously fiddling his thumbs.
"I don't mean to alarm you, lady, but I'm not fancying our odds out here," he said, his brows pressed into a nervous frown.
"One on fifteen." Lucina shrugged. "Not the worst odds I've faced."
"Not the worst–" Geralt scowled. "You better have a damn good story to tell, or I'll be sorely disappointed that I took a blade for you. Not that I'm in any state to do much else," he said, motioning to his empty hands.
Lucina glanced to the buildings, and her scowl deepened. "Then I won't ask you to fight. Surely you remember the route we took to get here?"
"Wouldn't be much of a thief if I never had an exit plan. Why?"
Lucina pointed toward a nearby alleyway. "Head back. Find the guards. Bring them here."
"Don't they hate your guts?"
"Better them than the bandits."
Geralt followed her gaze, then nodded. "That, I can do. You sure you'll be able to hold out?"
"If I've survived for this long being beaten black and blue, a few minutes more shan't be much of an ask from the gods."
"Here's to hoping they hear you at all." And with that, he slipped away, leaving Lucina to stare down the group of bandits as they came to a halt before her.
"They must be low on men to send a lady to stop us," the bandit at the head sneered. "Do you really think you'll be living through this, girl?"
Lucina narrowed her gaze. "I believe you would like to have much better last words than that."
"Whaddya–" The bandit gasped, clutching his stomach. His body kicked up a cloud of dust as he collapsed on the ground.
Lucina drew her sword out from his corpse and flourished. "Who shall I send to accompany him?"
The bandits stepped back, shocked. Then one of the bandits roared and charged.
Lucina danced back. An axe smashed to the ground before her. She raised her sword to drive it through his shoulder, only to twist it away at the last moment to deflect a blade from the left.
More bandits lunged from her right, blades aimed for her chest. Lucina stepped back, blocked another strike for her head, and evaded a swing for her left arm.
Her eyes flicked back. She was losing ground, and fast. At this rate, they may push her back to the others before they had a chance to escape. That, she could not allow.
Lucina jumped back, both hands on the hilt of her sword. She drew back, roared, and brought it forward in a wild swing. The bandits scattered. Her blade sliced past them. One of the bandits lunged forward, seizing the opening.
Lucina did not stop him. Instead, she let the momentum of her blade carry through, spinning with it and landing a kick on the side of his face. He staggered back. His hand grasped at his face, gasping in pain.
Then Lucina stepped after him, finishing her spin with a thrust. It was wild, clumsy from the rest of her spin. The blade tore through his shoulder instead of his heart. Still, a hit was a hit. The bandit howled. That was all the noise Lucina allowed him, cutting him off with a kick to his stomach so hard, he flew back a few feet, into a few of his comrades behind him.
As the bandits stumbled back, Lucina swung again. Slower this time, more controlled. The bandits retreated again, more wary. Lucina took the small victory for what it was. She glanced back. Only a few more people to go. Only a minute longer.
The bandits didn't care. They were in no rush–she was their only target. Slowly, they began to gather their wits. Slowly, they began to fan out, to surround her.
Lucina grit her teeth. Better for the rest of the villagers. Not as good for her.
She could make no mistakes here. Risen weren't like real people. They had no cunning, no patience, hurling themselves at the end of Falchion one by one, hoping to overwhelm her with sheer numbers and endurance. While she had faced more Risen than this measly group of bandits, she could not afford to be careless like before. A single mistake, and they would pounce.
Lucina shifted her feet. The bandits tensed. Their weapons gleamed silver in the orange light of the flames around them.
With a roar, one of the bandits broke away and charged. The rest of the bandits, emboldened, rallied behind him. Lucina parried the first clumsy swipe, but had no time to follow up when axes and swords soared toward her from all directions.
She ducked, sidestepped, blocked, and parried, left, right, up, down, but so many bodies and so many attacks left her boxed in. No openings to strike, nowhere to move but back.
So many blocked strikes, so many swings, and she could feel her arm beginning to throb. The wound she'd suffered earlier, from the collapsing stable–she could remember it, fresh in her mind. Yet she still grit her teeth and pushed on. She couldn't let one wound, one little slip up, cost her her life. She had said she might die. But she could not believe it. Would not believe it, after she had spent so many hellish years throwing herself against the Risen horde–she would not fall here.
Then it happened. A sharp pain, tearing through her arm from her elbow to her fingertips. Lucina gasped. Her grasp loosened just an inch. An inch enough to let the sword slip from her hands. She stooped down, catching it before it could hit the floor.
She looked up, only to find herself face-to-face with the gleaming end of a silver sword soaring straight for her.
Too close to dodge. Too close to block. Only one way through. Lucina grit her teeth, clenched her sword, and charged.
She twisted to the right. The bandit's sword pressed against her side. Then through it. Past her organs, and out through the back.
The bandit who had stabbed her froze in shock. Shock that he had landed a hit on her, for once? Or perhaps shock at registering her own sword, buried hilt deep in the center of his chest.
Lucina could feel her teeth strain, bend, and crack in her jaw from the sheer force it took for her not to scream out in pain. She turned, ignoring the searing pain in her left arm as she hurled the bandit's corpse into the other bandits, forcing them back and giving her a moment to breathe.
Not that she could do much of it, not with the sword buried in her stomach. Every breath she took, every movement she made, she could feel the cut stretch itself open even more–but that was a dull ache, almost completely drowned out from the earth shaking pounding she could feel in her chest.
Brady did always say the more vital organs were on her left side. Gushing blood from her right, she only hoped that being the sister of a cleric would buy her enough time to see this through.
Her feet carried her forward with a lunge. She couldn't remember when she'd decided that, when she'd pushed off the ground, but flying faster than her hazy mind could follow, she let her sword carry her through, straight through the shoulder of the next stunned bandit.
He screamed, clutching the stump where his right arm had been. As his sword clattered against the dirt, the bandit falling to the ground, the man next to him gaped at her.
"How?!" he cried. "You should be done!"
"Done, am I?" she snarled. "I'm done when I say I'm done!"
The bandit staggered away. Not fast enough. Lucina stepped after, dragged her sword off the ground, through his hip, out his shoulder. The bandit collapsed on the ground, howling and grasping at the thick line drawn through his chest.
Quickly, the bandits snapped out of their shock. Roaring, they lunged for her, axes bringing death from the sky. Lucina dove forward to meet them. Her sword flashed in an arc around her. The bandits pulled back. Red splattered over the road–red from a single cut across chests, across hands, across faces. Someone's finger splashed in a puddle of pooling blood in the street.
The bandits scowled at her, not one of them dead, but all of them wary. All of them, at least, had the common sense not to blindly throw themselves at her. Good for them.
Good for her too, she supposed. This sword was no Falchion. Sturdy, sharp, but heavy–she didn't think she could cleanly cut through even one of them, not with a regular old sword, and certainly not with her strength fading with every heaving gasp of air she took in. The world swayed around her. Lucina stepped forward to right herself. The bandits stepped back.
"What?" she said, sneering. "Too scared to challenge a wounded girl? I'll fall to one of you, I can guarantee it. At least one of you shall live to tell the tale. You'd not wish to find out which one of you it shall be?"
"Stop!" Lucina heard behind her.
She glanced back. Just in time to take the blunt end of a lance to the face.
The shock was enough to hurl Lucina's legs out from beneath her. Even through the pain, Lucina had enough sense in her to twist away, landing in the dirt on her side. The sword through her lanced her with pain–much less than it would, had she landed on her side and let it drive the rest of its way through, but enough for her to let out a cry of pain.
Standing over her, the captain of the guard pressed his foot on her hip and frowned. "That's quite enough, miss."
"Enough? Enough from me?" she hissed.
"Enough chaos you've brought upon this town. Did you not think you'd pay the price for it?"
Lucina would have shot back, but the captain nudged her with his foot, and the sword sent another spike of pain through her. She craned her head to look over her shoulder, and when she saw that, at last, the street was empty, she let her head fall as she sagged in relief. At the very least, she no longer had to worry about Anna's girls.
If only the same could be said for the troubles quickly mounting in front of her.
Glancing between them, the bandits raised their swords and tensed. The captain held up an arm, and twenty more guards came pouring in, their lances raised in return. The last one, however, came dragging Geralt behind him. As the man tossed him to the floor beside her, Geralt gave Lucina a grin.
"Much better than the bandits, is it?" he asked.
"They would have run me through without a second thought," Lucina replied.
Geralt's brown eyes flickered down, and he winced. "I see."
"Hush, you two," the captain said, then turned back to the bandits. "There is no need for any more violence here. I know you've come not for blood, but for this girl. Let me speak to your leader, and I am sure we may be able to come to an agreement we can both agree too."
The bandit at the front stepped forward and scowled. "What's to stop us from taking her from you and killing the rest of you lot?"
The guard raised his lance and narrowed his eyes. "You may try, but since I can see she has already caused you so much trouble, I believe you would prefer for an easier option. Well, I am presenting the easy option to you upon a silver platter, along with her head. Surely even someone like you shall see reason?"
Again, the bandits exchanged a look. They whispered between themselves, nodded, and the one at the head replied, "We'll see what Victor has to say about it."
One of the bandits broke away from the rest, disappearing into the alleyways. As Lucina watched him go, she could only lie there and hope that the next few minutes would be kind to her stomach at the very least. After everything, hope was all she had left.
Man, I really should hold myself to higher standards. Sorry the long wait–I'm a bit lazy like that.
Last time, I said I only got through 50% of what I wanted to do for that chapter. This time, I only got through half of what was left, which means I somehow stretched out 25% into 8 pages worth of stuff. Weird how it all worked out.
Christmas break has started for me. That means I'll have more time to write. Whether I'll actually take advantage of it is still up in the air, but I'll be sure to have something to show for it by the time I've got to head back to college.
Feel free to leave a review/comment–keeps this story at the top of my priorities and at the front of my mind. Until then, take care of yourselves, stay safe out there, and in case I don't get another chapter out before then, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!