IV: Laia
There's an elegant sword strung up on the far wall, its metal glistening into my eyes. Beside it are numerous blades and other weapon, each displayed with care and precision. I take a gentle step away from the wall praying the floor doesn't make a sound. It doesn't. Set against the wall is bulky oak desk, the surface spread across with documents, metal fragments and long old coffee mugs. The rest of the room is packed with shelves, and books, and more weapons for display. His office, I wonder. The door, matching the same oak wood as the desk, is pushed open enough for me to see into the corridor. I absent mindedly wonder how big this house is or where the Smith would keep any medical kits.
"I already sent my decline. I'd appreciate not to be bothered again." Telluman's voice drifted up the corridor and I froze against the door holding my breath.
A quiet voiced followed, barely loud enough for me to hear. "The Emperor himself -."
"I don't care if the Emperor himself sent you. You have my answer now get of my property," Teluman roared loud enough to scare the mice back into hiding. No voice followed and I silently wondered if he or she was contemplating reminding the Smith that all property was owned by the Emperor. Apparently they decided not to as a loud bang echoed through the house which could only be the slamming of a door. I breathe a sigh of relief and relax against the door. A squeak echoes through the corridor and the door falls completely open. I yelp - not my best moment - and catch myself against the far wall of the corridor just in time to keep my nose in tacked.
"Idiot", I mutter.
"Excuse me?" I yelp again and nearly drop my hands from the wall for my nose to hit the wall. But I don't. The Smith is leaning against the doorway of the corridor, blocking my view to the front door and work tables.
"What," I stamper attempting to convince my heart to slow down.
"You're calling me an idiot. Meanwhile here you are - against best judgments I might add - sneaking around my house."
My lips part but no sound departs. I don't know what to say. Is he going to throw us out? Is he going to turn us over to the Mask's? What about Elias's injuries, he won't make it past the city walls...
Telluman's mouth quirks and I realize the bastard is smiling. My eyes widen to the size of serving plate. I contemplate smacking him, but my pervious questions still stand.
"I'm not going say that it was a smart decision to sneak up here," Telluman pauses. His egotistic smile is still plastered on his face. "Why did you come up here?"
I gulp and contemplate lying, but what's the point. "Elias was hurt - during your escape. He needs medicine and bandages." My words catch in my throat. "Please, he'll bleed out."
Telluman's smile vanishes and he pushes on the wall, mumbling something about wrinkle lines and kids causing trouble. It is only then that I realize how tired he looks. Elias and I had only been down there for a few hours at most and the Smith already looks years older.
"Alright," he mutters absentmindedly. "I know I have some medical kits around here somewhere." he scratches the top of his head. "I won't be able to help much; I don't have any medical training. I could see about getting -."
"Thank you," I cut in, my smile as bright as I could make it. The Smith smiles back, maybe just as a habit, and looks behind him to the mess of work tables and half finished projects. He wipes his hands on the grease stained apron around his waist.
"I'll check there," his head jerks to the work table. "Can you check the bathroom down the hall and that office?"
I nod and run down the corridor without thinking. The bathroom is the first door on the left. It's small and humid but still a million times better than anything I had at before. Inside a wooden cabinet is an array of shampoos, fancy soaps, and an abundance of sketchy hair products. A laugh catches in my throat. I analyze a glass bottle with a gel like substance that claims to prompt 'decreasing frizz and 'brings body back to your luscious locks.' My limp hair hangs in my face and I think about stealing the bottle. My hair could use some 'body', whatever that means.
Besides the mass amounts of hair products and over prices soaps there's nothing of use in the bathroom. I trace my steps back down the corridor until I'm back at the office, the wooden door still slightly ajar. The sounds of crashing and shuffling fill my ears from the main room where the Smith is searching. The office is just as I had left it: a mess. The open window has blown stacks of paper around the room, only to reveal another layer of documents stained with coffee rings. The desk is an absolute mess to look through. Every drawer is stuffed the brim with useless junk and scrap metal. After shoving away all the stacks of paper, and finally seeing the desk top, I decided the desk would yield nothing helpful.
The books shelf in the corner wasn't much better, in fact it was worse. Books of every shape and size litter the shelves, occupying every visible space. Most had water marks or extra lettering between the margins. Not that the letting did much the, Smith's handwritten was utterly illegible.
That's when it hits me like a punch in the gut. Elias is down in that basement cellar, all alone, bleeding. I instantly feel shame for leaving him, despite the knowledge that he can and will take care of himself. The knife twists in my gut further and I nearly double over. He'll be fine. He'll be fine. We'll both be fine.
It takes approximately all my energy to force by body back up and focus my brain on the task at hand. I'm done being gentle with the Smith's mess of an office. I toss papers in every which way, pull open drawers, and chuck books across the room. Until there it is, shoved deep in a dusty box in the closet waiting to be used. I practically start crying on the spot. He will be fine.
The kit is heavy in my hands while I brush dust of the stretched shirt. "I found the med kit," I shout down the corridor. No response. I poke my head out the corridor, "Do you have any bloodroot? I think it would really help him."
Still no response. Tingles go up my spine as the silence cuts through the corridor. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong. The wall presses into my back. My breathing is shallow and uneven. My gaze shifts to the elegant sword, the metal still glistening in the bright sunlight.
A wretched part of me aches to set down the sword and run to save myself, but instead I compel myself to remember that night with Elias. The feather light kisses he left along my lips and his gentle hands pulling me in. That wretched part dies out and all that's left is the strength to step out of the office and face the danger.
What awaits me is a horror. Kneeling on the floor, gagged and hands tied, is the Smith, his aged eyes gazing at me in terror. Standing behind the smith is a Mask.
Every inch of my blood is frozen. The sword hangs limp in my hand. A vicious smile crosses the Mask's face.
"It's about time you joined us." He sounded board. All I could do was blink. "Your friend here isn't a very good conversationalist."
Telluman jerked against his ties and the Mask has a knife to his throat instantly. "Shh. Now, now, that's no way to behave," The Mask looks up to me. "We have company." Scarlett blood blooms along Telluman's neck in a thin line as the Mask slides the knife away. The Mask straightens up and starts cleaning the blade of the knife along his cloak.
I manage a dry gulp. The Mask jerks his head up, seeming to have forgotten about my presence. A single eyebrow arches.
"Now what have you got there?" I want desperately for my feet to move as the Mask starts walking towards me, but they won't move. I'm planted in place. He is close enough now for me to smell his sweat and the stale tang of blood. My senses rebel. A rough hand grabs at mine and my breathing stops, but he only grabs at the sword. I let him take it.
"Good design, nice balance." The Mask examines the blade the same way the Smith had with Elias's blades. Elias! Is he still in the cellar? Is he safe? Have the Mask's found him?
"- craftsmanship like this since before my Senior Skull year." Telluman has gone slack in his bindings. The Mask's dark eyes pierce into mine from behind its mask. A flick of amusement crosses his face. He bounces the blade between his hands for a few more seconds before slamming it into the floor, blade first. "You have nothing to fear darling."
The dull thuds of the Mask's boots resonate with the house as he takes the few the steps to me until he is close enough so we are sharing oxygen. His breath wrecks of smoke. I want to throw up. I want so badly to turn away and chuck out all my stomach contents away until my stomach stops churning. When his hand grasps my left wrist and I finally find the strength to move. I jerk away from his grip, aiming my other fist to his face, but the Mask is much stronger than me. He bangs my left wrist against the wall behind me. With a tight grip on my right fist he starts twisting. I scream.
"Would like me to stop," He breathes in my ear. The Mask says this with a smile on his face. My lips stay sealed shut. I refuse to give him the satisfaction. The Mask laughs or what could be passed off as a laugh, and twists my limp fist above my head to join my other hand.
"It was quite rude of you to keep us waiting," He snarls. "Perhaps you need to be taught better."
Moist breath rubs against my neck. With one hand holding my wrists the other drops to my waist. No, not this again, I beg. Please not this. His gloved hand drifts downward and silver grin cuts across his features. No one is going to save me, I realize. Elias must still be in the cellar and the Smith is tied up. No one is going to save me.
"Such a lovely face." His hand strokes my cheek and I yank my head away as far as I can. The hand goes back to my thigh.
"No," I mumble quietly enough that the syllables barely escape my mouth.
"What," The Mask sneers. The loud of his voice makes me recoil again. "What did you say?"
"No," I repeat louder. "I said no."
Before I know what's happening my head is slammed back into the wall. I hear the crack of my skull as it hits the wall. "How dare you," he spats in my face. "Who do you think you are?" Over the Mask's shoulder Telluman is staring in disarray. Of course he is, who would be stupid enough to stand against a Mask.
"Ungrateful bitch," The Mask spats. Wet spray hits my face and I recoil against tightening hands. "You idiotic bitch." My head hits the wall again and everywhere goes burry for a moment. I'm convinced there is a skull shaped dent in the wall. When my vision focuses again I realize with a jolt how close he is. The thick panes of his face are prominent behind the mask, almost has if the Mask has become his skin. Has it?
"How dare you talk to me like that!" I squeeze my eyes shut. No one is coming; no one is going to help me. I'm on my own. When I open my eyes again he is close enough that I can see the individual colour flecks in his eyes. That distance is matched perfectly to my advantage. In one clean movement I ram my forehead against his. The Mask, not expecting the attack, stumbles back clutching the spot where our heads connected. All the weight of my body drops to the ground with the relief of being free. Behind the Mask Telluman is roaring against the gag and twisting in the ties, but I can't focus on him. I can't focus on the Mask, who is still bent over, or even my own hands in front of my face. My vision blurs in and out; light and shadows. Through the Smith's jumbled sounds I make out a single word.
Sword. The Sword!
I climb to feet and take a moment to balance myself before stumbling towards the sword which is still thrust into the floor. My hand has barely scraped the handle when a pair of hands seize my hips and yank me backwards into the floor. There's a sickening bang, which I presume is my head, again, which makes up vision blur.
The Mask's silver face appears over mine. "Bitch," he sputters. A knife appears in his hand. Its fine tip presses against my neck and a single bead of blood drips down to my collarbone. "I should kill you right now." The blade digs in deeper. "I guess it's in your luck that the Emperor himself wants the pleasure of finishing you and that traitor off himself."
My heart stops. He knows about Elias. Does that mean he knows where he is? The churning in my stomach starts again. I hadn't even considered that there might be more of them.
"Get up." I crawl to my feet, shaking. The Mask looks me up and down then grumbles, "You're not worth my time." I nearly sigh with relief.
He pushes my back and I catch myself before falling back down. The light and shadows are starting to refocus. I'm pushed to a kneel beside Telluman. A gag is placed around my head and my hands are tied behind my back. I don't fight him.
The Mask grumbles some before thumping across the room to the still standing sword. His dark cape billows behind him, drifting softly above the floor boards. Unfortunately that's where the softness ends. Every other surface of him is made of hard lines. The sharp cut of his jaw where the silver mask melds with skin…
With a shutter I realize I'm comparing him to Elias. But Elias isn't made of hard lines. He has a softness to him, one that he showed me that night I was awarded as his prize. On the outside he is the rigid, solid Mask he has yet to outgrow, but I know better. My head starts to pound violently and the bile begins rising in my throat. Instead I focus on the small differences: the hair colour, the eyes. Elias has striking grey eyes, where as this man has eyes the colour of darkness; pure darkness that can't be trusted.
He rips the sword free from the floor. A gaping hole remains at his feet. The Mask leans close to the blade as if he is transfixed by its presence. "Such talent going to waste," he says, drifting his gaze to Telluman. The Smith's head drops lower so his hair falls over his face.
"Agreed," a voice echo's behind me. I try to twist around but it's useless.
The Mask turns to stare behind me, an annoyed look on his face that immediately turns to a cruel smile. "Took you long enough."
"This one put up a fight."
The voice walks around in front of me and I scream through the gag. Hands bound behind his back, and blood seeping from the wound in his abdomen, is Elias. His head hangs low like the Smith's. His hair isn't long enough to cover his face so I can see his grim set expression. The voice, another Mask, tugs on the ropes binding Elias hard enough that I see the ties digging into his skin. Elias is pushed down to the floor beside me. His knees hit the floor with a loud thud. He grimaces.
"I sent the other patrol man to get more men and to send word to the Emperor." The voice, the second mask, glances back at me, then Telluman and raises and eyebrow in question. "They're harmless." As if.
The second Mask tilts his head to the wall where indeed there is a dent. What about that? The original Mask shrugs and starts flipping the sword in his hands. I can feel Elias's gaze on me but I refuse to meet it.
"What about the Smith? What do you we do with him?" They talk as if they are discussing where to bury the body.
"Relax. We'll turn them all in, might even get the prize money."
"You know that's not the case, Miller." That's his name, Miller. I mentally add it to my list of people to hate, and kill. Fortunately the latter list is very short, so far.
"Then we'll make it the case."
The second Mask mutters under his breath then asks if Miller has an extra blade. "That one," he gesture to Elias, "broke mine in a fight." They dance over his name like its poison.
I finally turn to Elias. His skin is the colour of snow and a thin sheen of sweat coats his forehead. How did you manage to fight back? Elias leisurely lifts his head. The bleakness tells me everything; he doesn't think we're getting out of this. Miller throws his cape aside and pulls out a short blade from a strap on his thigh. I nearly cry out. My dagger! I turn back to try and communicate my message to Elias but his head is dipped down again. He's running out of time.
My silent working is driven by the fear of being caught. Miller and the other Mask have their backs turned to us, but for how long? The bindings scrape against my skin and I almost have to pop my shoulder out of place to reach the blade. Inch by inch I pull it free of the strap until it's safely tucked in my hands. I twist my hands back around behind me and adjust my position so I can slide the blade under my legs if I need to hide it.
Fast and quiet. Fast and quite.
Telluman's head tilts upwards and his eyes widen at the sight of the blade against the ropes. He nods his head vigorously. Faster. We'll be okay, that's what I keep telling myself. We have a chance to get out of this. The ropes snap in my hands and with it the tension in my bones eases slightly. I toss the blade to Telluman who starts saw away at his own bindings.
"He should have been here by now," Miller says annoyed. He turns back to look at me, bored. I feel his eyes piercing into me as if he knows everything; as if he knows my bindings are off, or that Elias is quickly dying or that despite the harsh situation I want nothing more than to lean over and kiss Elias. I might not ever get to do that, not if we don't get out of here quickly.
"Patience," The second Mask mutters while checking out the array of messy work tables and unfinished weapons.
"I wasn't trained to have patience."
"Then you obviously weren't trained well," He snaps back. Miller, it seems, is the young and less experienced of the two.
"I trained alongside the Emperor himself!"
"That means nothing if you don't know how to handle yourself on the battle field." Miller glares back at us as if he's embarrassed to be scowled on by a superior in front of our eyes.
"We aren't exactly on a battle field now are we," Miller says, proud of his comeback. The second Mask glares, his silver features displaying all the danger lurking behind his calm presence.
"No, Miller, I can't say we are that this moment. When we arrive back at Blackcliff I'll be sure to have it arranged though." Elias viably shutters at the name of the academy. He has as much desire to go back there as I do. Out of the corner of my eye I see the Smith's binding snap and drop free of his wrists. He slides the blade back along the floor to me. Miller is now positioned against the door frame of the corner, cleaning out the underside of his fingernails with a small blade, a blade probably designed for torture. The second Mask is still distracted by the documents and weapons. The line of sweat has increased on Elias's face. He has a fever, the wound's infected. I glance down at Elias's bindings then to the blade in my hand. There's no way for me to cut through his bindings without the Mask's noticing. He has to cut them himself.
He inclines his head just enough for me to see his eyes peeking out below his thick eyebrows. I do my best to gesture to the blade. He seems to cut the idea since he nods slowly and twists his hands to receive the dagger. The blade clatters to the floor just short of Elias's fingers. Shit.
Millers head tips up and he smirks at us as if things have finally started to get interesting. His steps vibrate the floor boards as he approaches. The second Mask doesn't spare a glance in our direction. He is halfway towards us before I decide to act. I lunge for the dagger at the same time as Telluman leaps up to tackle Miller. The Mask groans as he hits the floor, Telluman on top of him. In a single swipe I cut Elias's ropes, no longer caring about being silent. The second Mask has turned from examining a folder of documents. A childish smile crosses his silver face and he pulls out a long scim from his back. Elias tries to stand, but his feet give out under him.
"You shouldn't have done that girl," The second Mask snarls before leaping across the space that separates us. I duck down so the blade swings over my head. The Mask roars and charges again, the blade raised to my heart. My feet react, shoving the rest of my body to the right, but I was too slow. The scim blade slices into my shoulder. Not deep enough to cause any damage, but enough that it makes me cry out and bend towards the floor. Maybe I will vomit this time.
"Laia behind you." Elias has removed his gag and a blade that I recognize from one of the table dangles in his left hand. It's been broken in the middle leaving the blade short with monster like teeth at the end.
I whorl around just in time to dodge the next attack by the second Mask. I angle by body so this time when I dodge the attack Elias will be waiting. The Mask roars louder this time and charges for me, not noticing Elias behind me until it's too late. The rusty blade sinks into the Mask's chest through a gap in the armour only a former Mask would know about. A sickening crunch fills my ears as he twists the blade. Blood splatters against the floorboards as the Mask sinks to the floor, the blade still in his chest. I pull the gag off and let it drop around my neck.
"Elias?" His eyes barely lift to mine. He falls to the floor barely missing knocking his head against the corner of a table. "Elias!"
Sweat drips down his forehead in streams and his eyes are glazed over. Shit, shit, shit. "Elias its okay, we're getting out of here."
"You two need to get out of here now." The Smith looms over us, blood soaking all the way up to his elbows. Miller lays in a heap behind him, a mess of black armour and blood.
"Is he…"
The Smith shakes his head, "No, but he will be soon. Now you two need to leave. The rest of them will be here any minute."
A gap at Telluman. "What about you?"
He shakes his head again and stares sadly at Elias. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."
Elias's head stirs in my lap and I'm pulled back to reality. I feel useless "How? Where do we go?"
The Smith has moved across the room, leaving a wake of bloody footprints. "Follow that road," he points out the window to the road behind his house. "Take your fourth right and that will lead you to the Gate. Hide in a carriage to get through the wall, and then you're free."
Elias stirs again. I can't waste any more time. "Help me get him up," I gasp. Elias staggers on his feet for a few moments before bracing himself against the table. Blood seeps through his shirt. Telluman disappears down the corridor and appears again a moment later armed with two cloaks, new boots, a shoulder pack, and Elias's scims.
"You might need theses." He lays them gently against my palms and I help Elias strap them to his back.
"Why are you helping us," I ask, pulling on the fresh boots. I hadn't even noticed that during this whole thing my feet had been bare. Elias manages to get his boots and clock on fine without help.
"I'm not helping you." I start to interject, but then he holds up a hand. "I'm not helping you; I'm helping your brother."
All I do is nod. What can I say to that? Elias and I have come in here and, in a matter of mere hours, destroyed everything he has worked for.
"Thank you," I whisper. Elias mumbles thanks. I fear that that is the most he can say.
Telluman leads us back through the corridor to the door we first left from when he led us to the cellar. "Good luck," He smiles briefly shaking my hand. Elias braces himself against the open door, his breath heavy and laboured. We're already through the door before I turn back to the Smith.
"Come with us, please," I beg as a last ditch effort. The Smith merely shakes his head and closes the door behind us.
The square is packed with people. School kids, parents, and merchants all run rapid among the streets. Not one of them pays any attention to us. Beside me Elias is stumbling along barely keeping his eyes open.
"We're almost there," I whisper. His eyelids flutter slightly to acknowledge he heard me.
Ahead of us looms the Gate to the city. There it is freedom. We're so close. Elias trips again and I catch his with my body, the shoulder pack dangling in view.
"Elias, please, we're almost there. I promise you'll be okay." His eyelids don't flutter.
Follow road. Take fourth right. Hide in carriage. Time to find a carriage.
Most carriages are packed to the brim or too well guarded to sneak into. We mill about, following some carts until we find one down an alley way with bare space. The driver has just gone inside a shop to collect that last of his produce before leaving the city.
"Elias, you need to climb up the carriage okay? I can't lift you by myself." Elias groans and his hard muscles stiffen against my arms. Hard lines on the outside and softness everywhere else.
I help pull him into the carriage and barely have both for us covered with extra cloth by the time the driver comes back. I'm pressed against his body, my head lying gently against his chest. Elias's heart beat rings in my ears. I fear it will get slower and slower as we start moving.
By the time we approach the Gate, and I know this as the carriage grinds to a halt and series of shouts are uttered at the driver, Elias's breathing has become wheezy and heavy in my ear. But I don't care to shift. If he is to die now I will stay here with him.
The carriage starts moving again and the ground shifts under the wooden wheels. Gravel. Gone are the stone streets of the city, we're on gravel. We're outside the city.
I'm free. Elias is free. We are a free.