A little early chapter alongside the one that WILL show up on Friday/Thursday
There was a small debate amongst the group on their next course of action. Mlynar had reasoned now that their reason for visit had ended, they should return to Rhode Island post haste. Whatever ominous meaning that the Sarkaz had left was not worthy sticking around to learn of. Cecilia and Ezel had tried to reason for why they should stay, a mix of personal stake in it, the entire reason they had come here, but also in order to recuperate. Returning to the Sargon roads so quickly after arriving would not do well on the body or the mind.
Mlynar relented to stay extra days only when Penance had checked on the car to see that when attempting to start it, the engine sputtered out and died. She had tried starting it several more times but the reaction repeated. The car's engine, whether through some intervention, exterior or happenstance, would not start. They had found a mechanic willing to work on the vehicle, a Pythian who seemed eager to help them, but even he had reasoned the repairs would take several days, four at least if they wanted to pay him extra. They decided against such and settled with making due.
So they remained in Arcadia for the time being, having sent a situational report to the Doctor and Rhode Islands about their mission completion as well as the reasoning for why they would not be able to return yet. Luckily it seemed Muriel was quite accommodating, their bill being covered by Rhode Island AND Laterno, which freed some funds for the others.
With those funds came a sense of exploration, notably for Ezel and Cecilia who spent their time amongst the people of Sargon. Cecilia had grown close to a few of the other children of the city, having met in the sauna but now meeting up and playing games well into the night. Ezel of course watched her, taking in the beautiful rising and setting sun, as well as sampling Arcadia's rich coffee bean tradesman who he grew to enjoy talking to.
"Coffee, warmed with sand!" He had spoke of one night with the excitable grin matching Cecilia's.
Fiametta had taken a mind to explore the more urban areas of the city under the guise of a more… Extreme form of physical exercise. Penance had offered to join her one of the days, but found her methods of travel a little too extreme for the Lupo. The training of Laterno operators was certainly a sight. Their viewing roofs as walkable as a sidewalk and saw large gaps as nothing more than leapable stop gaps made many Sargonians who happened to look up that one day stare in bewilderment.
Penance for her part did her best to train, but without Mudrock or Dur-Nar to help advise she found herself out of tutelage initially. That was until she was told to ask Mlynar, a piece of advice that the Doctor had sent to her when she corresponded with Rhode Island. So she did, and though she felt somewhat awkward interrupting his time in Sargon with such a request, Mlynar himself seemed to be the least busy of them all.
Whereas Ezel and Cecilia explored the city, Penance and Fiametta training in some regard, those who saw Mlynar usually found him reading. A Sargonian newspaper at times, or simply on the terminal keeping in contact and somehow still working certain files the Doctor would send him. He had also been one to cook. It seemed if he wasn't reading or corresponding, the man was cooking for them. He woke up earlier than the rest for breakfast, perhaps unintentionally at times, and wouldn't sleep until well into the night, almost keeping in time with his hours at Rhode Island.
So when she asked him about helping her train, with the Doctor's insistence, she initially thought he would decline. Instead he promptly stood up from the terminals and grabbed his coat. Penance was in a bit of a shock for a second before he saw him already walk out the door saying, "we'll need to ask Muriel if the roof is an acceptable place to practice".
It turned out the roof could not be used as Muriel insisted that NO WHERE in the building could it have any sort of combat of any kind. So instead, Mlynar and Penance opted to find a rather quiet area of the Arcadia. It seemed despite the crowds and frequent travels going to and from the gates, there were several areas of the city filled with abandoned homes and the squalor of a people without support.
They had taken a page from Fiametta's book and climbed atop the roof of a large abandoned building. Both to avoid the people who lived in the abandoned areas, but also to avoid the city's security forces. Mlynar had kept an ear on the ground, but even he could not figure out why there seemed to be a higher concentration of guards patrolling the streets. Though they were smart enough not to apprehend the richer travelers, merchants, and tourists, they seemed to be putting a concerted effort on searching and apprehending their more poorer citizenry. Partially why it seemed many hid less in the shadows of alleys and more in the abandoned buildings that littered Arcadia. The Sarkaz and Infected in particular seemed to be searched and arrested in a higher frequency. Such was a note he told the rest of the group and the Doctor in case the situation might develop even more negatively.
While he knew they were safe, he doubted any sort of open carrying of weaponry would look too suspicious to avoid search and seizure. So the rooftops they went. And a practice blade of Mlynar was used. Though the practice blade in this case was a sword that he had acquired for cheap at a smith in the bazar. The blade itself was plain and looked cheaply made its edge ground down on a stone. Mlynar said it was better to use this rather than the sword he brought.
"So. Your arts, you wish to practice that? Or combat?" Mlynar had said on their first training practice. He held his sword loosely in the hand and shed his coat. Penance thought for a second he looked much younger when he looked like this.
"You're not opposed to combat practice?" she asked. He shrugged noncommittally. Loosening his shoulders up the blade twirled in his hand like it weighed nothing.
"I was there when the Doctor gave us the mission details, and you on your own admission said that you lacked actual combat experience," Mlynar noted. "And from our brief experiences here, the only serious experiences you've had in combat was either hitting someone with a car or using the chain of your flail to incapacitate. While either feats are impressive, they are not applicable experiences you would normally learn from." Penanced swallowed at Mlynar words before shedding her coat as well.
"Well, you would like to start off with regular combat, I would not mind. I think it would be easier to practice that first rather than arts right now." Penance replied.
"Very well. Come at me." He raised the blade up, the sun glinting off the dull metal before Penance ran forward. Letting loose the chain, she swung it with all her might. She knew her technique was lacking, her form nonexistent, however strengths were her only thing she had currently. Strength and endurance, so she swung her first strike intent on breaking Mlynar's guarded and blade. If the flail would not connect, she would use her momentum to send a kick his way.
As she saw, it, his skill even without his arts far exceeded any efforts she could muster. He simply stepped back and flicked his blade down. The barest difference of weight careened her balance as she fell forward, only kept up by Mlynar holding her up with one arm, but his blade resting just below chest.
"You died," he said simply before Penance righted herself up and he stepped back. He held the blade up once more in the same stance he started in. "Again." Breathing hard, Penance narrowed her eyes. This time she charged forward swinging the flail on either side to build momentum before moving close in and aiming for Mlynar's chest. It was almost like dejavu.
Mlynar stepped back, the blade darting out to just add the barest amount of weight to push it to make her stumble before she was held up once more by Mlynar. This time the blade's dulled edge went past her neck and for a brief second, Penance felt a shade of death shake through her. Eyes wide and heart pounding, she stared into Mlynar's impassive ones before he helped her back standing.
"You died." He stepped back and leveled the blade up once more, same stance, but now Penance could feel a mental exhaustion taking over her. It was getting more difficult to breathe, but she hadn't even done a fraction of the time training she would do on Rhode Island. "Again." His voice was final, not his usual droll tone but one of starling thunder. Breaking her out of her own head, she acted without thinking this time.
Swinging the flail the chain whipped around and the ball whistled in the air. Instead of anything fancy, she swung one and let it spin again before swinging again. No simple step back this time. Mlynar's footwork put him off center, but by the nature of the wrapping flail, forced him to step further back to avoid its whirling cone. Penance smelled blood in the water as she pushed forward again with this strategy. Swinging it in short quick circles that seemed to get closer and closer.
Mlynar for his part did not strike, His feet deftly dancing away to away his legs or body being struck by the spiked ball. His blade had never touched it either, deftly flicking under or twirling to the side before it was struck. Mlynar's eyes never left Penance, who had unconsciously bared her teeth at him now.
With a roar she pushed forward, flicking the flail so it sped up at the last second. Mlynar's blade was struck at its middle, knocking it to the side, Penance moved to attack once again, intent on finally connecting with the Kuranta. However when she swung she no longer saw Mlynar in front of her, and her attack went wide. Instead she felt her legs get swept up from underneath her, and she ended up on her back. Eyes staring straight up at the sky as her flail clattered to a distance aways on the roof, free of her hand. Mlynar stood above her, sword to the side, but his calf having tripped being the cause of her fall. She let out a gasp of air she didn't know she needed.
"You fell, which means you died again." Mlynar noted before walking over and grabbing her flail. He held it in his hands, testing its weight before placing it with Penance once more. "It's not a weapon I've trained with, but it is something I have some familiarity with." He noted as Penance struggled to sit up, only to find that without the adrenaline coursing through her system, she felt her muscles turn to jelly and weak. "Stay down for a bit. You've exerted yourself more than what your body could handle."
"What… How…?" Penance now also felt how dry her mouth was. Reaching behind his back, Mlynar had pulled an unopened bottle of water. Helping Penance up into a sitting position he cracked it open for her. He opted to see if she could hold onto it, but her weak grasp said otherwise and begrudgingly nursed the water to her lips. He didn't pour it to quench her sudden dire thirst, but slowly, deliberately, to avoid drowning her system with sudden shock.
"The flail's main strengths are its unpredictability as well as a continual flow of momentum to create devastating strikes," Mlynar began thoughtfully. "Its weakness however is due to weight distribution, it can tire its user out much faster than a hammer or a mace. You also cannot defend it with, but I supposed that is what your arts is for," Penance nodded her head, remembering how activating her arts would be how she'd defend attacks during the Rhode Island practice. "So this weapon is purely for offensive purposes. Yet the current way you're using it, isn't utilizing it fully."
"H-How?" she asked before being supplied more water. Eventually her strength in her hands and arms came back to her and was able to hold the bottle for herself before she drained it. "How am I meant to utilize it?"
"Extension of the arm and chain," Mlynar said simply. He stood up and held his hand out, asking for permission to use her weapon. She gave it to him, eyeing him as he held it gingerly in his hands.
"You held a good idea of keeping small tight circles to help build momentum, but upon getting closer is a detriment for you. Because your point of impact comes from the ball and not the chain, it forces you to keep enemies at that distance for your maximum AND minimum." He swung the flail now. He alternated between large and small circles around and near his body. The flail striking out at its zenith of power at full extension, but she saw short quick strikes supplementing his smaller circles. She realized that those areas were aimed at the hands, feet, the extremities of the body, that which lays away from the torso.
"Knowing how to step and walk with the flail would also aid you in persevering energy and maximizing the power of it as well." Penance now looked at Mlynar's legs as he swung it. Unlike her who walked straightly, body and profile pointed forward, Mlynar seemed to dance with her weapon. Feet not stepping front to back at times, but diagonally, angling it so his body turned and the flail swung faster without any extra effort on his end. "The first step for this training will be how you step… And that will start tomorrow." Already the sun was gaining low on the first day, their second day in Arcadia. In the distance they heard a shout as a fire seemed to shoot out from one area of the city's districts. A noise of protest before flashes of arts and fires were seen.
"Hopefully there will be time for others…"
-L&L-
Fiametta had been nearby on a roof and saw what transpired. It was a raid by the city's guard force which apprehended both the poor and infected. Fiametta had almost been caught had she not used the rooftops to escape such. Over the next few days those arrests and protests seemed to increase in frequency, and direness.
"They're looking for someone," Ezel noted after he and Cecilia were accosted one day. One of the girl's friends was grabbed while they were playing, questioned by the police before Ezel intervened. A tense standoff, but the halo around his and Cecilia's head dissuaded any sort of response by the guard. They let the child go and Ezel and Cecilia were able to get him home safe. There were others who were already forbidden from going out, but it seemed that children were not their target. They were however looking at even the wealthy and travelers now.
"This situation is getting dire," Ezel remarked. "The mechanic said we'd need to be here for three more days at least before the car would be fixed. Would we even make it three more days?"
"It looks like as long as we stay near the hotel, we'll be alright. It's being given a wide berth." Fiametta noted. "But it looks like the city is being put on lockdown as well."
"That… Complicates things," Mlynar mused, jaws chewing the roasted meat skewer Fiametta had procured for their dinner. "Stopping all traffic in and out of the city means that whoever they're looking for—"
"But who are they looking for? They're searching all peoples. Even some of the other Sankta that work for the hotel have been approached," Penance remarked. "I do not know what connection or influence Muriel has, but he's been able to avoid getting his staff taken."
"We probably won't be as lucky," Mlynar said darkly. "Being from Rhode Island or having some protection by Laterno wouldn't be enough."
"If these orders are coming from the Lord Ameer, the city would take these words as gospel. Almost nothing can challenge a Lord Ameer's word save for a Padishah," Fiametta remarked. "Rhodes has a lot of friends, but I doubt we have any connection to a Padishah."
"I've already told the Doctor about more of the complications, but in the meantime, we need to stay on guard. We must avoid causing a diplomatic incident," Mlynar finalized with a heavy sigh. "We still have three more days here, if we can hold out for three more days we can leave Arcadia and put all this business behind us. The Doctor has tried to contact any other contacts which could help facilitate our leaving of the city, but at best we need to prepare to stay for even longer."
"Leave on the seventh." Cecilia said quietly. Noticing everyone staring at her, she seemed to shrink a bit but was nudged by Ezel to speak her mind. "We should leave on the seventh. That's what Uncle's messenger said."
"I would rather leave before then if I'm honest," Mlynar said with a frown on his brow. "Just by the words of your Uncle's messenger screams of a diplomatic incident waiting to occur, and seeing as its been four days since that statement, I'd rather not think about what will happen on the seventh that necessitates to leave. Instead, we need to keep our heads down and ride out the storm." The next day, Fiametta and Ezel were arrested on grounds of sowing dissention.
-L&L-
There was a palpable rage that extended off of Mlynar and Penance as they were escorted to the Lord Ameer of Arcadia. Cecilia walked between them, nervously flicking her eyes between the two. The entire situation had gone downhill the last three days. While going outside to talk to those affected by the impromptu martial law of Arcadia's district. Because that is what it had turned into, martial law that even extended to non-citizens of Arcadia.
The Lord Ameer Amra had encircled the city in a vice grip of authority as he tried to sift out whoever he was looking for. Having made several public announcements, it had been their fourth day in Arcdia before he had openly begun to arrest any suspicious travelers. As much as they tried to avoid it, Rhode Island operators were part of this, and it seemed that Lord Ameer Amra did not care that he arrested two members of Laterno. He had begun arresting anyone who were on the streets it seemed, Sarkaz, the infected, Lithuania and Victorians, any who caught the ire of the Lord Ameer's guards, they were taken off the street.
Penance had initially appealed to the local guard station who had arrested Fiametta and Ezel on the grounds of diplomatic immunity by using their status as Notarial Hall officers, with Ezel's easier to argue for but the dangerous of Fiametta's secret office would normally bring more nervousness to local guards, however it seemed that their Notarial Hall connection only compounded their value to their connection to Rhode Island. Having been found to be Rhode Island operators, it seemed that the Lord Ameer himself had taken them under the highest form of security in his own private domicile, a large ostentatious mansion that now resembled more like a castle than a governor's home.
On the fifth day, Penance, Cecilia, and Mlynar had been allowed to meet the two with an iron gate and several armed guards separating them. They had been treated well, with Fiametta's angry distaste being launched towards the guards ever so often. However the shakes on their wrists and the lack of their weapons weighed on everyone's minds.
"The Lord Ameer has to know that this is a moronic idea," Mlynar grunted as his hand flexed on the blade at his waist. He saw the guards flinch when he gripped it. "Have you met with him?"
"Behind six or seven of his armed guards, yeah," Fiametta scoffed. "Whatever he's looking at, it's got him paranoid, jumping at every shadow. He refuses to let there be any darkness. It's worse than a Sankta slumber party."
"He's been exceedingly polite to us. He's saying we have a common enemy that we can together to take out". I have no idea what he's talking about." Ezel admitted. "Unless Reunion or some sort of other oripathy running rampant here, but Arcadia has levels of oripathy the same as other cities."
"He wants us to talk tomorrow, at a dinner meeting. He's inviting all of us to meet with him," Fiametta said, eyes rolling."We're to discuss things with him there, and if he likes our answer he'll let us and the city go.."
"I don't like any of this," Penance muttered. "None of this bodes well."
"We don't have a choice in this do we." They did not. They arrived at the Lord Ameer's home on the seventh day. The car was fixed but no person would be driving it yet, but Mlynar had asked Muriel to keep the motor running just in case. The Sankta sent a knowing smile towards Mlynar and promised to do so when he dropped them off at the front of the Lord Ameer's abode.
"Weapons please." The guard in front of Cecilia, Mlynar, and Penance seemed as nervous as Mlynar was angry. Unbuckling his sword belt, he dropped the blade in the man's hands. Penance did the same with her hammer, buckling the man's knees as he did not realize how heavy the hammer was. Cecilia prayed before she unlatched the bolt from her rifle and gingerly placed it in the man's arms, and he fell from the weight of the weapons.
Entering the Lord Ameer's estate flanked on either side by anxious guards who eyes looked at every shadow around them, Mlynar and Penance winced at the intensity of the bright lights in front of them. Fiametta was not mincing words when she said the brightness of the home was intense. Blinking through the worst of it, they were led through the hallways before reaching a large impressive dining room. The light was no less intense here, but guards surrounded the room on all sides. Fiametta and Ezel were already seated, their food left untouched. Penance had noted it was because their hands were shackled to the chairs. Mlynar, Penance, and Cecilia sat alongside them, Cecilia going over to see Ezel seeing his breathing a little haggard. Penance checked on Fiametta as Mlynar kept his gaze leveled at the Lord Ameer..
"Are you alright?" Cecilia asked, noting a few bruises and a swollen cheek on Ezel. She saw some of the same on Fiametta, but it seemed she took more than Ezel had.
"Nothing worse for wear," Ezel placated with a pained smile.
"This bastard's guards couldn't handle a little resistance," Fiametta laughed. "He probably gets a sick kick out of this shit though." She said gesturing with her head towards their captor.
The Lord Ameer Amra in the flesh now was seen. He was an immaculately groomed Feline, brushed and polished and wearing their many jewels and silks. It was clear the man had made much of his power through economic means rather than military means. Some sort of knife sat on his hip, the only form of weaponry not held by guards, but even the dagger was encrusted with gold and bright jewels.
Penance and Mlynar noted the food set out before them. No one had touched it, not Fiametta, not Ezel, not even Cecilia, but most of all not even the Lord Ameer. His face seemed incredibly gaunt and a low growling Penance had initially attributed to Cecilia had actually been from the Lord Ameer.
"It is finally wonderful to meet all of you," the Lord Ameer Amra said languidly. Though he held a swirling glass of wine in his hand and lounged on his chair, there was a tenseness Mlynar and Penance could see or feel on him. "I must say, I am rather impressed by Rhode Island."
"And this impressiveness led to two of our operators' arrests," Fiametta said bitterly. If the Ameer heard her he chose not to acknowledge such.
"Cut to the chase, what do you want Ameer Amra," Mlynar ground out. He did not want to play MORE games. "You have us here, either you let us leave in peace, or will leave without your consent." The guards around them grew nervous and threatened to advance upon Mlynar, who paralyzed them with his glare alone.
"This! This is exactly what I need!" The Ameer's voice no longer was languid. It was now livid, in a maniac sort of excitement that everyone seemed to put back by. "My guards can't do it! They can't find it!"
"What the Hell are you even talking about?" Fiametta shouted. Penance felt something strange. Despite the intense light of the room, it suddenly felt darker. Colder. There was a creeping shadow in the darkness of her own mind.
"He's everywhere! He's hunting me, I know it!" the Feline seemed to grow more insane by the second with their proximity. "Rhode Island can help. You've destroyed that detestable terrorist group Reunion." Mlynar's frown deepened. "We are not some death squad which will kill for money."
"Reunion. Sarkaz. Assassins. What difference does it make. They are disturbing the natural order!"
"What natural order?" At this question posed by Penance, the Lord Ameer's voice seemed to return to some veneer of lucidity,
"Why, of the status and split between nobles and the commoners of course. That's what Rhode Island is for isn't, to help maintain the status quo." It was so quiet that a pin could be heard dropping. Wide eyes of disbelief met the Ameer just as long arms and gnarled hands reached up from behind him.
To everyone's astonishment, including the other guards, one of the Lord Ameer's guards had come up behind the man and began to choke him. Topping him off his chair, the hands squeezing the throat of the Feline even as the Lord Ameer scrambled to remove the hands.
"Lord Ameer Amra Aali, your sins have returned!" the Sarkaz friend of Cecilia's Uncle had eyes full of hate despite their blindness. The guards rushed forward as Cecila and Penance scrambled to get Fiametta and Ezel out of their binds. Mlynar subdued those who got close. Taking the first guard's sword from his hand before quickly disarming or incapacitating those who came within his distance.
The Ameer scrambled for the knife at his belt before digging it into the side of the Sarkaz assassin. Desperation coloring his face alongside the purpling from lack of air. Again and again, the knife was pulled and stabbed into the Assassin's side, but it only seemed to make the grip tighter.
"Your wounds cannot bear to eclipse the pain we've endured for years for you!" It roared as Fiametta and Ezel were finally freed from their bondage. Looking outside a window, Mlynar saw the entire complex was shrouded in inky darkness despite the intense illumination.
"Friends of the Crusader's daughter! Flee this sinful estate! Flee from its dirty hands!" A spear plunged itself into its back, pushing through from the otherside. Mlynar's eyes met the Lord Ameer's desperate look. Two words being mouthed to him.
"Save. Me." Mlynar didn't bother looking back as he used his arts to slash through the front door into the halls. Using the surprise and the chaos of the burning home, the group made their way past the scrambling staff and guards. It seemed that the Sarkaz assassin was not alone, as other black robed figures were cutting down any person within their sight.
"We need to get our weapons!" Penance shouted over the chaos. She had grabbed a fallen guard's spear and was using it to keep the assassins and other guards away alongside Mlynar.
"This way! A Sankta can never be without knowledge of where theirs may be!" Ezel guided them now through the bloodstained halls. Carrying Cecilia, he lead them through a large gilded door. There they were met with a grisly sight. A Sarkaz' body, long dead, but the bones and flesh having been flayed opened and exposed. Its head sepperated from its body but still starring with intense rage and hatred as its last vestige. The only parts missing where its hands.
"Uncle…" Cecilia whispered. Ezel covered her eyes.
"It's okay. It's okay." Ezel whispered trying to comfort her.
"This place is a den of debauchery," Fiametta sniffed. She eyed lost artifacts and grandiose pictures of some conquests that were no doubt fabrications. She had no idea who the Lord Ameer Amra was before this, but now she could only see him as a contemptible man.
"He wanted to keep these as trophies," Penance said seeing their weapons in a glass case. Smashing the guard's spear against it, the glass shattered and everyone rearmed themselves as a group of assassins broke in.
"The sins must be cleansed in blood." Their voices droned before they leapt upon them like wild beasts. A shot from Fiametta had them scatter as they avoided the flaming missile. Shots from Ezel knocked several down before they would scramble and move towards on all fours.
"These things are tenacious!" Penance noted as she swung her flail, catching one on the side and sending it sprawling away. It made a sickening crunching noise before it simply turned back around and crawled once more. The blade in its hand was thrown at her.
The knife was deflected off of Mlynar's blade as he parried it out of the way. Carrying both his sword and the guard's blade, they saw the man fought with a righteous anger. Silent through it all, his action spoke well enough of how he felt of the situation.
Both blades swinging in the air, deflecting knives thrown and cutting down those which got close. The blade reforged by Rhode Island glowing with his arts that seemed to break the animalistic resolve of the assassins when slashes got close to them. He was a whirling cyclone of death, slicing the assassins to ribbons with blades. Shots from Ezel and Fiametta kept the assassins from grouping up, and Penance found her arts able to shield them from daggers when she stood in front.
"This shield is pretty handy!" Fiametta said with a grin as they finished off the last of the assassins. Pulling the rag away, she swore as she saw the person below was a Sarkaz, but they were long dead before they were finally finished off by them. Pale squalid flesh and glazed eyes. Jagged lines of sewed flesh keeping them together before their final strings were cut by Mlynar's blade. Other assassin's rags were torn off and was much the same, long dead Sarkaz kept together through a twisted form of Sarkaz necroarts and finally finished off.
"What are we going to do?" Ezel asked, even if the Sarkaz were long dead, leaving such corpses and the desiccated body of Cecilia's Uncle left him with complicated feelings.
"... Burn it. Burn this entire room. Burn it all," Cecilia said quietly. Yet her face didn't speak or sound like her, but older and more somber. "Please… Just burn it all.."
"Set it ablaze Fiametta," Mlynar agreed. "There's nothing good that comes from here." The sound of a pop and burning cinders was the cremation pyre for the fallen Sarkaz..
Walking through the bloody halls of the house, the bodies of staff, assassins, and guards littered the floor. Those who made it had long since tried to escape the estate, some where cut down by guards or assassins, but the group found no one left alive. Fiametta wordlessly nodded as she too set ablaze the entire home now before they exited the doors. At the front gate those guards at the exterior of the estate had long since left, leaving only Muriel who sat without a care in the world on the hood of the car.
"Hey ya'll, how was dinner?" No one said anything, but quickly thanked Muriel for keeping the car running before he set off on foot back to the Ice Cream Sunday. Everyone loaded into the car as the chaos of the Lord Ameer's death in a tragic a fire spread through the district and then to the greater city of Arcadia.
The true words of what transpired in the home left as a redacted file in the Doctor's office when they returned back to Rhode Island.
Copy pasted from my AO3 upload note: I believed I might've gimped myself by having the arc only be three chapters long, but I also didn't want to extend it to four chapters either. It feels very rushed as a reader, and writing I felt like I wanted to put more and explore more with it but my hands and brain refused to cooperate. Except somewhat long lasting and perhaps some returning points of this arc to come back, as well as ramification of such an event for certain characters.