La Cité des Cloches
The city was in complete disarray, half of it broken and the other half on fire.
Unlike the uproarious chaos of the festival, which housed laughter and joyous celebrations, this chaos came from a much darker place. A worse place.
The screams of parents as their children were pulled from their arms sent chills down Xion's spine, the wails of innocent families placed into manacles made goosebumps run along her arms and those that were not chained being thrown into barred carriages to be taken away to who knows where was a grisly sight. The two Organization members had non verbally agreed that stealth could be vital to this excursion as soon as they smelt the flames, as the guards seemed to be fairly indiscriminate about who would be let go, who would be shackled and who would be beaten.
Xion had known that there was a lingering darkness in the hearts of all who had them, with the potential to do harm unto others was a practice that was shared throughout the worlds. She assumed it was maybe in the similar vein of her coworkers' apathy and own brands of heartlessness. Their mocking tones when talking to Xion. Saïx's cold demeanor when dealing with everyone. Demyx's indifference to the world. Larxene's cruel words and attitude. Xaldin and Lexaeus' fury. Their overall disdain for Xion, or their hatred for the mindless drones that are the Heartless.
However, the malicious nature of the work being done here refuted any doubts in her mind that people with hearts were not capable of committing such horrible atrocities.
There were bands of roaming guards patrolling the streets and terrorizing the people and setting fire to the homes of their neighbors and the businesses of their community. Xion watched as they entered homes and threw furniture about, tore apart their lives and beat them into submission, pilfering through and taking 'custody' of personal possessions and food, many of whom wore rings and necklaces out of the homes on their bodies and ate their food. Many guard visits begin and end with one of the troops breaking windows. Their other belongings, if not busted into unfixable rubble in their homes, were tossed out into the roads and claimed by roaming guards wielding fire.
Xion watched from the alleys that her and Demyx had been slithering through. How the people dressed in vibrant and colorful garments were thrown into carts or locked together in heavy chains and forced to march along. The chain gangs dragged along the streets for public display and mockery before being dragged away.. Xion turned the corner to see Demyx pick up his feet and bolted to the shadowed alley beyond the mouth of the one they were in. Having to wait until a passing patrol of guardsmen passed before making his move to the next one over.
Xion, cautiously, moved into the street to not draw any attention. She heard in the distance a soldier taking a rocking chair and tossing it through the front facing glass of a butcher shop, knocking over hanging sausages and meats and displacing pieces of glass all along the floors and amongst the food. All this before quickly throwing a few lit torches through the shattered window and cackling while doing so. Finding extreme enjoyment in the destruction of people's livelihoods.
The butcher, eyes aglow with rage, had charged out of his establishment wielding a large cleaver in his hand. Screaming in a language she didn't understand, but whose tone and affect was obvious. He was furious, and he wanted them to know that.
Xion watched as the wide piece of cutlery that was in his hand quickly caught the unsuspecting guard in the clavicle with a swift and brutal chop, slamming the knife so hard that the handle broke off of the blade and the steel stayed planted in the man's shoulder. The guard fell to his knees, unable to produce a single sound in response as he collapsed under the weight of his unforeseen doom.
The butcher, before he could turn around to address the remaining guardsman, was punctured by two charging spears. One through the gut and out the back, the other under his arm that peeked out of his throat on the right side. The butcher's body fell as well, eyes fixed in his fury before growing dull and joined the guard he had killed amongst the stone. Tumbling to the ground suddenly abruptly.
Xion was startled by the display, misplacing her footing and tripping over the corpse of what she now noticed as a young girl, no older than eight, her vacant eyes staring into the heavens as a hoove sized stomp had splintered her sternum and shattered her torso into mush.
Xion gathered her courage and joined Demyx across the way, her eyes wide and her breath growing more and more frantic. Her hands level out to rest on her knees and her mind trying to wash away the images that she had seen. Demyx rolled his eyes, walking over to the shorter Nobody and knocking her shoulder with a hard shove.
"Come on, you're acting like you've never…" Demyx's voice rolled out in a sardonic way, before he caught the distress that radiated off of the younger Nobody. His caustic grin faltered as he gazed upon the way her body convulsed in this newfound sickness. He wanted to bark out something demeaning about a low constitution, or having a low tolerance, but something twinged about the way she was so troubled.
Because she had never seen such devastation so closely. So personally. He sucked on his teeth, shaking his head before ruffling the main body of his mullet with a clawed hand.
"You know, having a heart doesn't make you a good person." Demyx's words broke through her rapid replaying of the scene with the spears. Her eyes jump up to see him, The Musician's lips curled to a half smirk, shoulders falling into a weak shrug. "I think it's what you do with the one you got that makes it all worth it. And… it's a shame people waste theirs on stupid stuff like this."
"Why would they? Why would anyone do that?" Xion begged for an answer, the depths of cruelty on display was unlike anything she thought she could imagine or could exist. Demyx glanced out into the street, his eyes focused on the butchered man and the fallen child. He shakes his head, turning his attention back to Number XIV.
"Darkness can make up a good chunk of anyone's hearts. And sometimes, that's the half they want to listen to. They're not all bad, people, you know. But all of them can be bad." Demyx reached over, patting Xion's shoulder with the delicacy of a brick dropped out of a second story window. It was impromptu, improper in its handling, and with some vague regret on impact. But the gesture had some good intention, Xion had to at least admit. He tried. Demyx nudged his chin back down the alley, Xion trailed behind as the two began to walk once again. "It's just the nature of the world, Shortstuff. People are capable of doing harm. Remember that."
Xion nodded softly in agreement. The ability for people to do harm was obvious. But something she never thought she could experience so viscerally as it was on display now. The ability to do damage was an aspect of having a heart that was always there. Perhaps that is why the Heartless are so volatile and aggressive? It's the core of Humanity, boiled down to its most basic form?
She stared at Demyx's back, a thought she had shared with Kuro having popped up in her mind when discussing hearts. A faint smile on her face.
"Don't you think it's kind of funny?" Xion started to say, seeing Demyx glance over his shoulder in anticipation of what exactly could be so funny at a time like this. "How Nobodies are bodies that lack hearts. But the Heartless are born in the darkness of hearts that lack a body so it forms itself into something."
"Oh." Demyx ponders that for a moment, skipping over the deceased body's sprawled out legs as he continues on his way. He nods with an impressed scowl. Xion does her best to ignore the man. It's not enough. "Huh. Never thought of it like that. Makes more sense for us to be called the Heartless and thems the Nobodies. That is kinda funny."
"It's just…" Xion shrugged nonchalantly. Orange eyes clouded her vision, and she had to shove down the thought. It almost made her smile. "Something I noticed."
Xion felt a chilling sensation in the breeze, her eyes taking her towards the streets that led out of the town and into the countryside. Xion's eyes widened, feeling a sudden surge of darkness in the area. She begins to walk towards the street. Demyx notices her footsteps not behind his and is now falling in line behind her.
"Smell something, girl?" Demyx teased, his eyes shifting off of Xion and to the gates leading out to the fields. The windmills in the distance slowly turn against the murky gray skies. Xion nods, turning to Demyx and pointing towards the fields.
"I think that Heartless might be out there. There is a great deal of darkness concentrated out there." Xion noted, Demyx nodding and patting her on the back. The second slam knocked her forward and she had to shuffle rapidly to find proper footing before she tripped.
"Lead the way." He said with a vacant tone, already getting bored of the misery that was in abundance in this world. Xion sprinted out the gates, Demyx following with wide arm swings and a huge gait.
La Cité des Cloches
The Farmlands
"We found this devil's trinket on your property. Have you been harboring fugitives of the law?" Frollo's voice thundered and echoed from inside the house and carried outside into the fields. Xion and Demyx watched from a nearby treeline, their sights set on a small farm with a windmill and home currently surrounded by guards and the Judge.
Xion's pulse of power that made her think she felt a Heartless seemed to have led the pair to the Judge's current interrogation of a simple and uninvolved farming family. Demyx watched with a growing interest, never having seen such a display of callousness before. Xion watched out of fear, never having seen such a display of cruelty before.
"Our home is always open to the weary traveler, as the Good Book says. Have mercy, my lord. Please, I have children!" The father of the family pleaded, dropping to his knees and taking hold of the Judge's robes. Their home was torn asunder by the guards, haphazard ax chops were scoured across the floor just in case there was a secret basement beneath the floorboards. The tables were smashed into pieces, the cups and plates were thrown and smashed into the walls frivolously. Destroyed just because they could be destroyed. And the Judge didn't find the Dancer. This was a pointless excursion.
Frollo glared down at the pathetic man, the disgust he felt for the farmer weighing down his gaunt face into a look of pure revulsion. He slapped the father's hand away with a swift and harsh clap of his knuckles, straightening his back and towering over the beggar. The father raised his hand in pitiful defense, afraid the Judge would continue to strike.
"I am placing you and your family under house arrest until I get to the bottom of this." Frollo shoved the father back with a palm to the forehead and pushed him flat on his back. The man's wife rushed to his side to help him back onto his feet, his children cowering in the back of the house. That very same hand that belonged to Frollo spread out before the family, warding off any potential rushing. "If what you say is true, you will be deemed innocent and you have nothing to fear when this is over."
"But we are innocent, I assure you!" The wife shouted with tears swelling in her eyes, bottom lip quivering and her hands trembling in pure fear. "We know nothing about these criminals!"
Frollo takes in a deep and full chested sigh, tugs on his vestment before smoothing out any bunches or wrinkles along his torso. He fixes his tricorn hat and interlaces his fingers together. With a simple and soft nod, he walks out of the domicile with measured steps. The guards that accompanied him trailing behind. As he exits, he pulls their door shut with a stern pull. As the door is closed, he snaps his fingers and beckons a guard with a curl of his finger. He snatches the spear out of the approached guard's hands and then uses it to bar the door shut. With a few tested pulls, and finding the door isn't budging any longer, he smiles with sick satisfaction. He turns to Phoebus and nudges his chin towards the home.
"Burn it down." The Judge commanded without raising his tone or changing his cadance. He ordered it without a shred of guilt or hesitation.
"Surely, you are not serious?" The Captain asks, shaking his head in disbelief and awaits for the Judge's response. His eyes glaring at Frollo with a blooming feeling of disgust towards the increasingly vile man. "They are innocent, there are children inside!"
"Until it smolders, Captain." Frollo barks in a grave voice, lifting his chin and staring down the golden armored soldier. He points to the home, before he begins to accuse them of their crimes. "These people are traitors of our city and must be made examples of."
Frollo wordlessly beckons forward a guard with a wave of his hands, one of his men then moving to Phoebus' side and begins handing the Captain a lit torch.
"With all due respect, sir," Phoebus mumbled, staring at the torch that was being offered to him. Frollo, seeing the delay in the Captain's response, took hold of the flames and forcefully shoved it into the Captain's hands. Prepared to watch him carry out his duties. "I was not trained to murder the innocent."
"But you were trained to follow orders. My orders." Frollo looked at Phoebus with anticipation in his eyes. A test to see if he would really listen to the Judge's orders. Yet the golden armored man refused to move. Phoebus remained still, jaw locked and his eyes staring disappointingly at The Judge. A stare that was caught by Frollo. "Captain? Are we clear of your expectations?"
Phoebus nods solemnly, before he takes the torch towards the house. He glances to the ground and sees a partially full bucket of water. With a clenched jaw and without a moment of hesitation, he decides his next move and immediately douses it in a nearby bucket of water.
"Insolent coward." Frollo growled at the sight, shaking his head in disappointment. Frollo grabs another torch out of the hands of a nearby guard and tosses the flame into the tarp of the windmill which then crashes onto the roof of the house. The entire structure was made of bone dry thatch, wooden walls and as a result, that torch touch spiraled immediately and the fire was quickly spreading. Before it could be processed, the whole home and windmill was engulfed in flame. The winds breathed life into the fire, the spinning limbs of the windmill were now ablaze and continuing to spin against the evening breeze. An image of a spinning windmill still going while aflame made Xion nauseous at the sight.
Phoebus, quickly and without thinking, crashes through the front facing window and does his best to bring the family outside the inferno.
Xion shifts her feet, feeling the compulsion to help. That's when she felt Demyx's hand grab her by the shoulder and hold her back. She struggles against his grip, glaring at him with intense blue eyes.
"He's going to kill those kids! Those innocent people!" Xion shouted, seeing Demyx shake his head and rattle 'tsk-tsk-tsk'. All while wagging his finger.
"No Meddling. We are observers here." Demyx ordered, squeezing her shoulder tightly before letting go with an aggressive shove and an uninterested crossing of the arms and a short yawn. "Besides, I just pretend that I'm home and not here when shit like this happens. We are looking for a Heartless… and to be honest, that farmer's family doesn't really matter. I mean, come on."
"You control water!" Xion shouts, her hands tightening into fists. Demyx squints in confusion, wondering why she is acting so… bizarre? She was acting impassioned, and worried. "Why don't you do something? You can help! Douse the flames! Chill the air! You could-"
"Rank, Fourteen!" Demyx shouts, glaring down at her with a now unsteady breath and a glare. "Rank. Watch yourself. You're lucky it's me, and I don't care about you or this place. If it was Xaldin, or Light forbid, Saïx, and you throw a temper tantrum in front of them? You'd be thrown through this tree, and dragged back to command to be destroyed."
With a conflicted feeling lingering in Xion's chest, she turns to watch as the building continues to burn. Crashing through the front door, shattering the spear into pieces, the family trailing out as the golden armored captain burst through the barred door. The guards surrounding the domicile grab Phoebus and force him up onto his knees.
"The sentence for insubordination is death. Such a pity," Frollo shrugged with a disappointed sigh. Shaking his head at Phoebus. "You threw away a promising career, Captain."
"Consider it my highest honor, sir." Phoebus spoke with a raised chin and unburdened shoulders. Frollo grabs the spear that had raised a spear and is about to kill Phoebus, Phoebus glances over at Frollo's massive black stallion, it's dark eyes focused on the sight. With a measure of luck, Phoebus pulls his arms and quickly breaks the hold the guards had on him, barely dodges the speartip from a thrusting Frollo, before mounting the Judge's horse and spurring it.
The horse rears, their hooves wildly kicking the air before taking off in a rapid gallop. Frollo watches in horror as a newly branded traitor to the city has now made off with his horse. Frollo raises his hand, waving it towards the captain. The guards took up their bows and began to loose arrows at the captain.
"Yes! Shoot him! Shoot him!" Frollo ordered, before seeing the arrow get loose and nearly find a home in his horse's hindquarters. He grabs the archer by the hair with a firm hand, eyes sunk into his skull and his lips trembling. "Idiot! If you value your lives, none of you will hit my horse!"
As Phoebus leans forward, lifting out of his seat, he is showered with arrows. Several of them miss their marks and crash in the road. Several of them graze the horse and soar over Phoebus' head. The horse begins to rush over the wooden bridge that connected the farmlands over the levee. However, one of the arrows lands and pierces through his shoulder. The captain shouts in pain, and in a moment of shock, he loses his grip and he slips off of the horse. He tumbles off the side of the bridge that he was halfway over, free falls for a few seconds before he finally falls into the river. The archers continue to shoot their arrows. An inconsistent volley of arrows following Phoebus into the depths and striking the water's service. Frollo approaches the bridge's side and with a wave of his hand, halts the next volley of arrows.
"Don't waste your arrows. Let the traitor rot in his watery grave! Find the girl!" Frollo shouted. The guards listen and continue to follow their orders. Frollo stares out over the farms, seeing the house crumble into rubble whilst still ablaze. "Even if you have to burn the whole city to the ground, so be it!"
"And that's the way a life ends." Demyx shrugs, glancing over at Xion with a flat affect. Running his tongue over his teeth and raising an eyebrow. "Such a shame. He looked like a nice guy."
Xion watches the river's surface, hoping that he would bob to the surface and be safe. However, he fell a great distance, was struck by an arrow, and appeared unconscious as he fell. She shook her head with a twinge of sadness. She turns to Demyx, who watches the Judge with peaked interest.
"Let's keep an eye on Grandpa, see if he will lead us to the Heartless." Demyx adorns his hood and disappears into the shadows of the forest. Xion follows suit, hesitation in her step as she too sinks into the dark.
A hooded figure quickly and swiftly rushes to the water's edges, and follows the river's current until she finds a shimmer of gold hidden under the surface of the flowing stream. Phoebus' unfocused and blurred vision doesn't recognize Esmerelda, as she pulls him onto a nearby bank. She had to find a safe place, somewhere that he could be safe. Someplace he could heal. Her ears pick up the tolling of the bells in the distance, knowing where she can find sanctuary.
La Cité des Cloches
La Cité
The girl just kept running. Her mother's hand held onto hers so tight she swore that she was going to be dragged if she didn't keep up. The guards had been pursuing them for the last three city blocks, and the dipping into and out of alleys did nothing to deter them. They were approaching rapidly, and her mother had gotten tired.
A bad turn around the corner ended with her mother's ankle being rolled, and the two of them were sent crashing into the street. The mother landed first, the daughter close behind.
"Mama!" She cried, her knees skid across the stone road and left her leg scratched up and raw. The mother's shoulder smashed against the street and her arm racked with pain. But the mother didn't have time. She went on ignoring the pain that rocketed in her body, took hold of her daughter's hand and gave her a hard kiss on the cheek. The daughter started wailing, the sudden dread exploding in her chest and she began wailing in the streets. "Mama! Get up! Please! Get up!"
"You need to run! Run, baby! Run! Don't look back!" She ordered with pain in her voice and tears swelling in her eyes. The daughter shook her head, grabbing handfuls of her mother's blouse and trying desperately to drag her up onto her feet. To try to get them to safety.
It was no use. The trio trailing soldiers rounded the corner, one grabbing the daughter by the base of her hair and pulling her up off of her feet, and the other two barking out nefarious laughs as they grabbed hold of the legs of the woman and her arms. The woman started screaming in horror and the men's cackles rose to overwhelm her cries.
That's when she hears it. The bleating of a goat echoing down the street. Its golden eyes lit against the darkened sky of the city.
A dark blur ran into the fray, so fast that their attention was grabbed by the berserk, guttural growl that erupted when he made impact before they could see him.
Kuro's shoulder charged into the man holding the daughter's hair, breaking the hold with a backfist to the wrist and immediately wrapping an arm around the neck of the soldier and rolling the man over his hip and slamming him onto his neck first into the street with a hard throw. The body ragdolled on impact and crumpled against the stone.
Kuro's left arm rose as the second guard dropped the woman's legs and reached for his sword. Ready to strike down Kuro.
The canine faced buckler appeared in a burst of darkened smoke, meeting the man's blade mid swing and parrying it with a bash. Kuro slammed his fist into the man's nose, the power behind the punch leveling it even with his skull and using the forward momentum to grab hold of the man's collar with the same hand and proceeding to slam the tip of the shield into the man's shoulder. The first crash dented in the breastplate, the second broke through with jagged edges of metal now circling around the opening, the third pierced through completely and left a bloody gaping wound in the man's torso. Kuro dropped the man to let him revel in his blood against the street, turning to the third man who dropped the woman's arms and began to back peddle.
The man didn't get a proper look at Kuro during his attacks, but now saw the full figure of the silver haired warrior as the two stood before one another. His dark clothing was stained in the fresh ashes that descended throughout the city like fresh snowfall and the stained blood gathered in thick splotches along his forearms, torso and knees. His shield was covered in markings and scored from deflecting sword strikes and dripped ichor along the pointed tips. His orange eyes were vacant, glowing in a savagery that brought to mind an animalistic fury. The right hand was taut into a fist, with split open gashes that ran vertically along the knuckles from repeated and constant combat. The trickle of blood that drained out of the cracked hands a mix of his own and the targets of his rage.
The man then began to run, sprinting out of sight and leaving the Heartless with the mother and the daughter. Kuro's sharp breaths came and went, his shoulders slouching and his fist slowly unfurling into a trembling splay. His eyes passed over to the mother, dismissing his shield as he leaned down to inspect the woman's now bruised blue ankle joint. He offers a low sigh at the sight, gnashing his teeth as it looks like she won't be able to walk. He then turned to the daughter and glanced at her skinned knees.
"Can you walk alright?" Kuro asked, the little girl nodding with tear stained eyes. She wipes away the tears, watching him intently as he spoke to her. Kuro nodded back, turning to the woman and carefully scooping her under her knees and pulling a hand under her shoulders to elevate her. "Alright. Stay with me. No matter how fast or slow I go. Stay with me."
The daughter nodded, watching him begin to lift her mother up and carry her.
"Dusk," Kuro shouted, turning to see the small midnight shaded goat rush to his side. Baaing at him with a look of determination in its eyes. "To the Cathedral."
Kuro's feet carried the woman through the streets, his feet pulling him through the devastation and the destruction. He did his best to ignore the homes that are currently aflame with his focus only on getting the family to safety. Dusk leading them towards sanctuary.
Ever since he was startled awake by the afternoon call that began this senseless violence, he had been active in the city to attempt to quell some of the altercations present. Trying to pull people out of burning buildings, trying to tourniquet wounds as best he could with the instructions of those that knew better. Any encounters with the guards were met with violence. It started with shoves and the occasional punch. The guards then drew swords and threatened to hang him. That's when the shield was drawn and his knuckles started to split from contact. The escalation soon led him to having to handle the more egregious and ravaging members of the guard with an equal level of violence they brought to their own people. Which explained what his hand was covered in lesions and constantly stinging from the hot winds that came in gusts through the streets and the flexed shifting of his fingers.
Soon enough, he took the small family into the central square, the shadow of the great cathedral looming overhead. He continued his pace whilst keeping the little girl in his peripheral, and led them to the front gates of the building. He didn't stop his pace, shoving his shoulder into one of the massive oak doors and pushing his way through.
The daughter and the mother were greeted by a host of nuns and good samaritans, who took the mother from Kuro's arms and carried her to a makeshift infirmary bed.
"Her ankle is busted. Be careful." Kuro noted with a reassuring squeeze of the woman's shoulder, letting her be taken into their care. Kuro turned to the daughter, getting down onto a knee to get eye level with the young girl. "Hey… Good job out there."
"Thanks." She whispered in a hushed voice, her arms pulled around her shoulders as she glanced around anxiously. Not knowing what to do next. Kuro offered a weak smile, raising his hand and resting it on her shoulder.
"Why don't you go be with your mom?" Kuro suggested, patting her on the shoulder. "She needs someone brave. Someone like you."
"I'm not brave." The girl shook her head, only for Kuro to 'tsk' at her with a shake of his own head. "I was so scared."
"You're plenty brave. I saw you. You were ready to drag your mom to safety. You're braver than a lot of us." Kuro's smile grows more genuine, before seeing the girl's smile grow as well. He nudges her towards her mother's cot, where she moves to sit beside her mother's side and rests her head against her mother's shoulder.
Kuro rises to his feet, the Archdeacon quickly approaching the Heartless with a worried look on his face.
"How many is that now?" He asks, Kuro shrugs unknowingly as he glances over the crowd. Only a few were on their feet, and they were the nuns tending to the wounded. The howling cries of babies and hurting people, the wails of pain felt from broken bones and shattered lives.
"Over thirty now? I think…" Kuro had lost count of how many people he had pulled into the Cathedral as soon as the fires started. He clenched his jaw, feeling his right hand's wounds be washed over with an intense heat as though they were being cauterized, the lesions healing and the skin mending together. He nods his head towards the mother and daughter, before heading back towards the gates. Ready to keep pulling the people out of the danger and into safety. He hollers over his shoulder as he walks. "They called Sanctuary. By the way."
"Bless you, son." The man said with a proud gaze as he saw Kuro shove open the doors and immediately get crashed into by a hooded figure and a limp golden haired man. Kuro immediately recognized the Captain, and could see the flowing black hair from underneath the hood and recognized Esmerelda.
"What happened?" Kuro asked, seeing the arrow lodged in the man's shoulder and his eyes half lidded and his lips mumbling off words of gratitude and fumbled prayer. Kuro turned to Esmerelda, his eyes growing more rabid and his breathing getting heavier. "Frollo, right?"
"He needs our help. He can't stay here, Frollo will see him and drag him out into the streets. Where's Quasimodo? He'll keep him safe." Esmerelda feels Kuro take an arm and hoist the captain up onto his slack heels and loose ankles. The blonde ex-soldier had a few pounds on Kuro, as well as being a head taller. Which meant Kuro was more carrying him over his shoulder rather than dragging him. "You-"
"I got him. I got him." Kuro grumbles in a quick breath as he lumbers over towards the stairwell leading to Quasimodo's tower. Esmerelda leads the pair, as Kuro trails slowly behind. Having to struggle with Phoebus' boot toes catching on every step and nearly dragging Kuro backwards down the spiral stairs. Dusk clomping slowly behind.
"Quasi? Quasimodo?" Esmerelda's voice echoed out from up ahead, Kuro carrying the still limp and lumbering form of Phoebus across his shoulders. Kuro could hear Quasimodo's voice from high up the stairwell.
"Esmeralda? Esmeralda!" Quasimodo rushed down the steps to greet her, hurrying to her side as he took her hands into his. "You're all right! I knew you'd come back."
"You've done so much for me already, my friend, but I must ask your help one more time." Esmerelda begs with a tender squeeze of his hands. He shudders out an excited breath, nodding his head in a quick motion.
"Y-y-yes, anything!" Quasimodo stutters out as he is overwhelmed with joy. Esmerelda glances over her shoulder, Kuro and Phoebus pulling up right behind her. She steps to the side to give Quasimodo a full figure look at the unconscious body of Phoebus being shouldered by Kuro.
"Hey, Quasimodo." Kuro mumbles, his free hand giving a quick wave as his arm grips the Captain's armor and uses it to lift the man up and adjust his grip.
"This is Phoebus. He's wounded, and a fugitive like me." Esmerelda stares at the blonde haired man with a worried look in her eyes. The way his breath shuddered out of his chest and the way his body struggled to maintain a steady breath. Her heart was aching at the sight. "He can't go on much longer. I knew he'd be safe here. Please, can you hide him?"
"This way." Quasimodo leads them further up the tower, leading them to the bell ringer's south tower. Kuro carefully lays Phoebus down on Quasimodo bed. Phoebus is laid on the mattress, his harsh moans rolled out of mouth and finally coming to.
"Esmeralda?" Phoebus' voice rumbled out as his eyes blinked steadily to ease his sights back into reality. The sharp pain in his shoulder made him think he died and is stuck in Hell. Finding his gaze finally stabilized and all he could see was Esmerelda's gentle eyes, her plump crimson lips, and her flowing ebony hair. He then knew he had to have died, for he had to be in Heaven to be blessed with such a sight.
"Shh, shh, shh." Esmerelda's voice cooed to him softly as her hand brushed over his cheek. "You'll hide here until you're strong enough to move."
Esmerelda looks at the arrow shaft in his shoulder, and she reaches into her dress' deep pocket. She then pulls out a flask of alcohol.
"Great. I could use a drink." Phoebus murmurs just as Esmerelda quickly removes the arrow and then immediately pours it on his open wound. Phoebus, even if he anticipated the pain, still cries out in agony
"Ah, yes! Hmmm!" Phoebus grinds his teeth and shuts his eyes with an attempt to downplay the pain that was tempting to break across his face. "Feels like a 1470 burgundy. Not a good year, for anyone."
"That family, the farmers, owes you their lives." Esmerelda whispers gently, taking him by the hand and giving him a tender squeeze. "You're either the single bravest soldier I've ever seen, or the craziest."
"Ex-soldier, Actually." Phoebus squints with an open mouth grin and a roll of the eyes. Esmerelda takes a needle and thread, beginning to sew up the wound.
Kuro walks over beside the window, staring out into the heartbreaking sight of a city put to flame and blade. The smoke clouds were dense and hung above the houses in a thick fog, the silhouettes of the city barely transparent through the rolling curtains of darkness. Kuro leaned against the windowsill, resting his forehead against the cool stone and huffing out a breath.
"It's madness out there, isn't it?" Quasimodo inquires, Kuro's head gently nodding in response. The Heartless' sunset gaze shifts from the city to the Bell Ringer, those eyes starting to glisten from the rising smoke that caught in his eyes and the sight of such a beautiful place set ablaze.
"How could Frollo do this?" Kuro asked in a low voice, his voice cracking from the fumes and scratchy from the air. "How could he justify hurting so many people?"
"In Frollo's crusade, his war…" Quasimodo shakes his head, his eyes glancing over at Esmerelda and Phoebus. "In it, all that matters is victory. At any cost."
A few silent moments pass in the bell tower before Phoebus starts to speak again. "Whenever we meet, I feel like a fool. You know? Interrupting your prayer. Bleeding all over the floor. You must think I'm an annoyance."
"I think you're lucky." Esmerelda whispered with a quick bite to snap off the string. Her hand massaged over the stitch and her eyes lingered on his. Feeling his hot skin nearly singe her fingertips, his heart beating was once steady before it accelerated under her touch. Thumping as fast as a horse's during a sprint. "The arrow almost pierced that strong heart of yours."
"I'm not so sure it didn't." Phoebus whispers, his soft eyes that were hidden behind his eyelids widened to meet her gaze. Esmerelda, without a word, takes his cheeks into her hands and gently shuts her eyes. Phoebus rises up to rest on his elbows, and meets her as she descends.
The two share a tender kiss, their lips pressing together and their shoulders relaxing. Her thumbs brush against his cheeks in short gliding rubs and his body shudders in response. A moan rolled out of his mouth and was caught by hers, mentally cursing the pain in his arm that kept him from pulling her closer.
Quasimodo's face falls and his heart stops beating for a few moments, upon seeing the display. The woman he pined for, who consumed his dream last night and who showed him unabashed kindness, had swiftly broken his heart. With a sullen expression and teary eyes, he turns away to face the city. His hands reach out to grip the windowsill, to keep them from shaking and trembling.
Kuro sees the two of them kiss, and upon seeing Quasimodo's defeated face, struck a sadness that empathized for the pain Quasimodo was feeling. Kuro reaches out and rests a hand in sympathy for the bell ringer's breaking heart. Quasimodo wipes his eyes, and sees a troop in the street heading towards the cathedral. With the Judge leading them.
"Frollo's coming. Quick, follow me!" Quasimodo shouts, before taking Esmeralda's hand and leading to the steps. "You must leave. Go down the south tower steps. He can't find you here!"
"Be careful, my friend." Esmerelda takes Quasimodo's hands once again, giving him a tight squeeze as her voice drops to a pleading prayer. "Promise you won't let anything happen to him."
Quasimodo's heart ached, but when she looked at him with those heavenly eyes of hers, and held him the tenderness of one holding a babe, he couldn't deny her. He nodded with purpose. "I promise."
"Thank you." Esmerelda spoke swiftly before descending down the steps.
"Where are we hiding the man? He can't go under the bed!" Kuro shouted, before glancing over at the pile of golden armor that was piled up alongside the bellringer's bed. Kuro grabbed the breastplate, seeing his reflection shining in the metal. He could watch his jaw going slack, eyes go wide and his teeth tremble as a breath getting caught in his throat. "Where are we hiding the armor? You don't have armor!"
"Toss it! Just toss it out of sight!" Quasimodo suggested, Kuro quickly scoop up the armor and immediately toss it out through the nearby window overlooking the city. The grieves, pauldrons, breastplate and gauntlets are soaring through the air, dispersing as they sink into the city. Quasimodo's eyes go wide, hands slamming to his skull. "I meant you tuck it under the bed! Or the table!"
"Why did you throw away my armor?" Phoebus shouts in anger, the flexing of his throat and chest muscles agitating his stitched wound and popping one of them. He claps a hand to stifle the pain, gnashing his teeth to bite back a groan of pain. "That piece survived a whole war."
"Why did I do that?" Kuro grumbled while combing his nails through his sweat damp hair and laying it flat against his head. He shoots a glance up to the landings leading up to the bells, beginning to climb one of the ladders. He quickly mumbles a curse as he forgot to grab Phoebus, throwing one of the Captain's arms over his shoulder and slowly trudging up rungs with the man alongside him. Keeping him steady as they move up. Dusk watches the two slowly move up the ladder, Dusk's body sinking into the floor and hiding amidst the shadows of the room. "Keep him distracted, Quasimodo!"
Quasimodo quickly rubs the palms of his hands together, desperate to try and look natural. Trying to look like he hasn't just seen Esmerelda, whose existence sparked this deluge of fire that consumed the city. Or the captain of the guard, who betrayed Frollo. Or Kuro, who had spent the better half of the day beating and fighting Frollo's men. Quasimodo goes to settle the table, rushing to grab plates and glasses. In his impatience and rapid movements, had them slip out of his fingers and crash into pieces along the floor.
"Is there something troubling you, Quasimodo?" Frollo's voice startles the Bell Ringer, who drops the plate in his hands and has it join the broken pile that had gathered on the ground. The Judge stood in his doorway, the burning city surrounding Notre Dame painted the Judge in a red glow, it reminded Quasimodo of the paintings of Hell down below.
"Oh, master, I didn't think you'd be coming because of the-"
"I'm never too busy to share a meal with you, dear boy." Frollo speaks with a faux pleasure, his hands gripping the basket of food in his arms. He dangles the food before Quasimodo, lips pursed and eyes half lidded. "I even brought you a small little treat."
He clears his throat slightly, and Quasimodo realizes he is supposed to be setting the table. He rushes off to grab the dishes, and is obviously flustered, dropping and breaking things as soon as he grabs them.
Frollo sits down at the table side, and pulls out a small handful of grapes. Popping them into his mouth and grinding them to mush with his teeth.
"I think...you're troubled." Frollo murmurs with an inquisitive stare and a crooked tilt of the head. His bony hands folding over one another. "What bothers you, boy. Is it the cleansing outside your walls that is troubling you?"
"Oh, no, master. There's nothing-" Quasimodo begins to speak and sees Frollo nudge his chin to his untouched plate of food.
"You're not eating, son." Frollo noted with a squint and a quick glance to the still full plate of food. Quasimodo then grabs a handful of grapes and tosses them into his mouth. Making sure to smack his lips and open his jaws as wide as possible with every bite.
"Ittus vewy ghood." Quasimodo spoke with a mouthful of grapes, open mouth chews to make as much noise as possible. Juice spilled down his chin and staining his shirt. "Thank you, master."
Phoebus moans from above, his shoulder paining him. Kuro immediately leans over and claps a hand over his mouth. Silencing him. Quasimodo, upon hearing the groan, moans similarly to hide it.
"What's different here?" Frollo mumbles as he stares across the tabletop, seeing the mock Notre Dame square, albeit not on fire. That's when he noticed a blue skirt, black haired figure right beside Quasimodo's hunchback figurine.
"Nothing, sir." Quasimodo whimpered as he could see the gears turning inside the Judge's head. The Judge's thin fingers curve and cradle the wooden piece delicately. His thumb brushing over the bust of the figure purposefully and slowly, his tongue peeking out of his lips with a nefarious look in his eye. The index finger wrapped around its waist, to keep her close.
"Isn't this one new? It's awfully good." Frollo muttered as he turned his gaze towards Quasimodo. His lips pursed into a wicked grin. "Looks very much like the dancing girl… tell me, did you get a good look at her? You know. Before she freed you yesterday on the stand? Or rather, did you get a good look at her before you helped her escape!"
Frollo's cool tone erupted into a fury, now screaming at Quasimodo.
"But master-"
"And now, all Paris is burning because of you!" Frollo damned Quasimodo with a wag of the finger and bolted out of his seat. Knocking the table aside as he glares down at the Bell ringer.
"She was kind to me, master." Quasimodo argued with a cowering demeanor. His lips quivering and his hands trembling out of fear.
"You idiot! That wasn't kindness, it was cunning! She's a whore!" Frollo reaches over and grabs Quasimodo by his collar, dragging the younger man to his knees and shouting into his face. "Vulgar scum like her are not capable of real love! Think, boy! Think of your mother!"
Frollo realized he had started to lose his composure, as he felt his mouth had started to froth, his hair was getting wiry and the veins in his hands and throat flexing hard against his thin wrinkled skin. Quasimodo sees the Judge take a breath, and takes a moment to settle the rage inside himself.
"But what chance could a poor, misshapen child like you have against her heathen treachery?" Frollo spoke with a pitiable tone, as he quietly pockets the figure and pats it securely in his robes. "Well, never mind, Quasimodo. She will be out of our lives soon enough. I will free you from her evil spell. She will torment you no longer."
"What do you mean?" Quasimodo whispered in terror, seeing the callousness make a home in his glare. "What are you going to do?"
"I know where her hideout is, and tomorrow at dawn," Frollo fixed his posture, slicked back his hair, taking a handkerchief and dabbing the little juice and foam that rested along his lips and tossing it onto the plate. "I attack with a thousand men. I'll raze her home to the ground."
Frollo whips his vestment about and descends down the stairs to return to his guards, preparing for the invasion. Phoebus begins to slowly trudge down the ladder upon hearing the judge's declaration, as Kuro climbs down using the branching pillars that hold up the bells in the tower.
"We have to find the Court of Miracles, before daybreak." Phoebus spoke as soon as Frollo was safely out of earshot and he stumbled down the last rings of the ladder. Phoebus rubs his aching shoulder, wincing with every rub. "If Frollo gets there first, it'll be a bloodbath. Are you coming with me?"
"I can't." Quasimodo said, Kuro stopping mid climb down in surprise and Phoebus' eyes going wide and head cocking in confusion.
"What? I thought you were Esmeralda's friend." Phoebus stated, seeing Quasimodo shake his head in response.
"Frollo's my master." Quasimodo shoves his hands into his chest, grimacing as he squints his eyes shut. The fear of Frollo's wrath not something he wanted to incur. "I can't disobey him again."
"She stood up for you!" Phoebus speaks vehemently, before glancing over his cowering stature and giving him a look of repugnance. Quasimodo had grown accustomed to one such look throughout his life. However he had never had that look be focused on something internal like his fear, it was always external, such as his face. "You've got a funny way of showing gratitude."
"I can't." Quasimodo whispers in defeat, his knees bending and his shoulders pulling in. Hands pulled to his chest and his sight averted to the floor. Making himself look so small and helpless. "I… I just can't."
"Well, I'm not going to sit by and watch Frollo massacre innocent people. You do what you think is right. Whatever that looks like to someone like you. Stranger?" Phoebus' eyes turn to Kuro, who nods his head towards the soldier in acknowledgement. Phoebus nods back, eyes squinting as he meets Kuro's gaze. "You'll accompany me to warn them?"
"I'll meet you down there, Captain." Kuro rumbles with a quick glance towards Quasimodo. Phoebus nods with a wicked grin, rushing down the tower steps to begin the trek to find the Court of Miracles.
"Dusk," Kuro spoke, the goat's body pulled out of the floor, horns and front legs first and then followed with a pop of the hind legs and wiggle of the tail. Kuro nudged towards the doorway. "I want you to stay here in Notre Dame. The city is in shambles, and I want you safe while I'm out."
"Stay safe, friend." Dusk whispers to Kuro before nudging him with their horns and then scampering off down the stairs.
With Dusk now safe, Kuro turned his full attention to the Bell Ringer, who stared at him with a stern admonishment. Quasimodo threw out his arms, trying to stave off Kuro's judgemental eyes.
"Look at me. What am I supposed to do?" Quasimodo asked, shrugging and casting a glare at Kuro. Who returned the aggravated gaze with a flat face. His arms crossing over one another and his heels digging into the floor. "Go out there and rescue the girl from the jaws of death, and then the whole town will cheer like I'm some kind of hero?"
Quasimodo muffled a short sigh with a hand, his shoulders slouching as he stared at his reflection in the glass along the table. Taking inventory of everything he is, and painfully tracking everything that he is not. "Forget it. She already has her knight in shining armor, and we both know that it's not me. Frollo is right. Frollo is always right about everything. I'm tired of trying to be something I'm not. I'm… I'm a monster, Kuro."
Kuro stares sternly at Quasimodo with a vacant look in his eyes, without saying a word to the bell ringer in response. Kuro glanced and saw Quasimodo's cloak gathered in a pile on the floor. Casting a glance at the sensation of the phantom pain in his knuckles, he walks over and picks it up off of the floor. The Heartless balls up the cloak, giving it a flex to ensure its shape before tossing Quasimodo his cape.
Quasimodo caught it before it hit him, squinting his eyes in immediate regret. Kuro waited for his response. The Bell Ringer thought of Esmerelda, squeezing the fabric tightly before throwing it along his shoulders. He bound the tassels to tie it and adorned his hood. Kuro nodded in satisfaction, his eyes softening before beginning his walk out of the bell tower. Ready to join the ex-guard on the ground floor of the city.
"I must be out of my mind!" Quasimodo grumbled, marching out of his home after Kuro.
At ground level, Phoebus is exiting the cathedral with a hood drawn and cloak draped over his shoulders. No sooner had he stepped outside, than Quasi threw open the doors and marched from behind him. Kuro nodding towards Phoebus with a smile on his face, Quasimodo's feet shuffling him to the Captain's side.
"I'm glad you changed your mind." Phoebus notes, with a smile gracing his face. Quasimodo shakes his head, shooting the man a glare before jabbing a finger into his chest.
"I'm not doing it for you." He noted, punctuating the 'you' with the finger jab. "I'm doing it for her."
"You know where she is?" Phoebus asks, Quasimodo reaching into his pocket and retrieving the small trinket she had given him.
"No, but she said this would help me find her should I need to." Quasimodo pulls out the woven band and hands it to Phoebus.
"Good, good, good! Ahhh. Great!" Phoebus says with a great deal of enthusiasm, before carefully inspecting it. Noting the cross wrapping and the small beads that lined specific rows along the talisman. He then shrugs. "What is it?"
"I'm not sure." Quasimodo freely admits.
"Hmm. Must be some sort of code. Maybe it's Arabic." Phoebus flips the talisman upside down, then sideways. He twists the string that holds it and allows it to unfurl, the small object quickly spinning in place. Trying to decode some secret message. "No, no, it's not Arabic. Maybe it's ancient Greek..."
"When you wear this woven band, you hold the city in your hand." Quasimodo nulls over the words that Esmerelda spoke, before shooting a glance to the towering Cahterdal, then to the river bridge archways. His hands mapping out the shape of the rivers, his thumbs tapping the center of the circle where Notre Dame would be placed. "That's it!"
"What?" Phoebus questions, staring at the woven band that he did have in his hand. Not quite understanding. "What are you talking about?"
"It's a map! It's the city!" Quasimodo points to the center of the trinket, the large cross that is between two woven blue string strands that run in an oval around it. "See, here's the cathedral, and the rivers on the side, and this little one..."
"I've never seen a map that looks like this, it has to be something else..."
Kuro's eyes grew dull the longer and louder the men began to argue. Which circled around for quite a while. Quasimodo's reasoning that an obvious map would make it easier to find, and Phoebus argued an unreadable map is useless without directions.
Quasimodo's and Phoebus' words overlapped one another in a shouting contest that ended with both of them punctuating their explanations and listed reasons of the other being wrong with -
"...and this is it!"
"...and this is not it!"
There is beat where they stare venomously at each other, so much so Kuro was tempted to step between them to break them apart. However, they came to their senses enough to not have that happen. They both breathe deeply, then Phoebus gives in.
"All right, okay. You say it's a map, fine, it's a map." Phoebus relents, hands up in defeat as he takes a step back. "But if we're going to find Esmeralda, we have to work together. Truce?"
"Well...okay." Quasimodo nods, "Truce."
"Let's move on, then. We wasted enough time already." Kuro stares at the two, before moving over to linger over Quasimodo's shoulder and stare at the small trinket in his hand. Trying to see the talisman as a map of the city. His orange eyes squint, tapping on the small cross that rests on the right side of the woven band. "It's a map, and that's the cathedral. Where does the small cross land us at?"
Quasimodo shuts his eyes, using his mental mindscape to imagine he was at the top of the belltower, and tries to envision where this Court could be if he were looking down from above. A few fingers wiggled in the air and mumbled words, Quasimodo's eyes went wide. He pockets the trinket for safekeeping and runs down the street.
"I know where to go."
Kuro and Phoebus quickly follow.
The graveyard was a massive tract of land. The headstones were mossy, rough and old. They jutted out of the ground in seemingly endless rows, looking like busted teeth in a corpse's gaping maw. Kuro walked alongside Phoebus and Quasimodo, who were continuing their short bickering on what constitutes a readable map. Kuro's eyes glance over the gravestones and crypts, seeing that they all had their own symbols along them. Many of them were adorned crosses, a few the fleur-de-lis which reminded Kuro of Olette's coin purse from Twilight Town. However, there was an above ground coffin with the symbol of the same cross on its face that was on the trinket. A notable clue.
"This looks like the symbol on the map." Kuro shouted, waving the pair over to investigate. The two came to the coffin, seeing the same symbol.
"But what does it mean?" Quasimodo asked, as Kuro circles the resting place and inspects it for any sign of use. "Now what?"
"Hmm. I'm not sure. I can make out an inscription, but it's going to take a few minutes to translate it."
Phoebus spoke in a hushed tone, before Kuro and Quasimodo saw that the lid was slightly ajar, and both shot a glance to one another. Without a word shared, the pair grabbed an end and pulled. The lid to the stone coffin shifted, and revealed a descending stone staircase that led deep into the earth. Phoebus' lips fell flat, and his eyes were unenthused.
"Yes, well, or we disturb the dead and just go down those stairs." Phoebus says, before Kuro helps lower him down into the hole as the initial step was a few feet lower than it looked. With Phoebus on the ground, Kuro jumps in after him. Quasimodo trails behind them, making sure to slide the slab back into place behind them. The stairwell is dimmed by dying torch light, Phoebus grabbing one of them off the wall and leading the party deeper into the ground.
As they reach the ground floor, they are greeted with a huge corridor, whose walls are lined with skulls and protruding ribs, vertebrae, and femurs. Layers of dried crumbled bone sprinkled the floor in the chalky white dust.
"This the Court of Miracles?" Quasimodo asks rhetorically, eyes squinted in confusion as his hand waves away the waft of decaying flesh and densely packed underground musk. The air was so thick, one felt they had to drudge through it as one drags their bodies through waist deep mud. "Smells like death."
"Offhand," Phoebus raises a foot out of a puddle of unmoved brown water. Refusing to let his mind wander and guess what he could have possibly stepped in. "I'd say it's the Court of Ankle Deep Sewage. They must be using the old catacombs. Well, come on. They have to be in here."
The trio walked for what felt like ages, trudging through gunk and dirt and side stepping puddles of disgusting sewage and ducking under cobwebs.
Phoebus glances over at Kuro, his tiger's eye shaded stare shone like caught lantern fire in the dark. His hypervigilance kept an eye on every corner they passed and to every nook they could see down.
"How are you holding up, kid?" Phoebus asked, seeing Kuro turn his gaze towards the captain and off of the darkness that gathered around them. Kuro shrugged, licking his dry lips. "Sorry you had to see all this."
"Fine, I guess." Kuro grumbled before he yawned. The night of tumbling with Heartless and a day of fighting off guard man left him feeling exhausted. But he couldn't stop. Not until they were safe. "I didn't get much sleep last night, and I spent most of the day leading people to Notre Dame for sanctuary and fighting off your men."
Phoebus stopped and turned to Kuro, eyebrows raised and his eyes shifting over the younger man. Kuro, taken aback by the sudden spin and stare, stopped immediately in his tracks.
"Sorry about beating your men." Kuro mumbled insincerely, before letting his hands rest along the back of his neck and stretch out his elbows. "I couldn't just watch them hurt those people."
"That was your doing? I saw what you did to them." Phoebus noted with a squint and a bewildered expression. "You've broken bones, busted up mouths, and destroyed armor. Some of those men are going to be healing for weeks, some of them not eating solid food again."
"I wanted to help. And they were in the way." Kuro said in response, his tone getting louder and his voice growing more tense. "I couldn't stand by as they killed innocent people and burned down homes."
Phoebus did a once over of Kuro, wondering how one kid could be responsible for incapacitating from his count, twenty four armed and trained guards. He then turned to Quasimodo, who raised his hands in defense of himself.
"I didn't help, if that's what you're thinking. I already know I'm going to get punished for helping her escape the first time. If I went out and tried to help? Frollo might actually kill me. I just want to warn Esmeralda and get back to the bell tower before Frollo returns. I don't want to get in any more trouble after that."
"Speaking of trouble," Phoebus glances around cautiously, eyes narrowing as he tries to see through the darkness. "We should have run into some by now."
"What do you mean?" Quasimodo asked, taking not to avoid murky still water pools along the floor of the catacomb.
"You know, a guard, a booby trap..." Phoebus notes with an extended thumb, then pointer finger. His eyes glanced down every corridor that they passed. Then it happened. As if a sudden wind were to have blown through the cavern, their torch then blows out immediately, leaving the three of them standing in darkness.
"...or an ambush." Phoebus mutters with an unbothered tone. There is a shuffling of feet, the three men crash into each other as they try to keep themselves pointed to a different direction. Their backs pressed together. Then suddenly, the chamber is fully lit. And they're surrounded by full bodied men covered layered bunches of bones. Rubs lined their abdomens, multiple femurs lined their shins like armor, and thin finger bones were strapped to their hands as gloves would rest atop a hand. The skeletons attack in force, and the trio didn't want to fight back in risk of making the situation worse. The skeleton men the three of them to their knees. Hands gripping their shoulders, forearms, necks and handfuls of hair, The lead Skeleton was lanky, tall, and walked with his chin held high and his heels digging stiffly into the ground.
"Well, well, well. What has Clopin caught today?" The lead Skeleton unmasks himself, revealing himself to be the master of ceremony from the Festival of Fools just one day earlier. Kuro squints his eyes, glancing over the tunnel and seeing that they are surrounded on all sides.
"Trespassers!" Clopin murmurs, whilst rubbing his chin in deep thought. His dark eyes reflected nearby torch light. "Perhaps, you are spies! Sent from Frollo!"
"We are not spies! We're not spies-"
"Can't you listen! We are here-"
"We are trying to tell you that you're in dang-"
The trio of men are immediately gagged as they speak, thick cords tighten around the backs of their heads and their teeth sunken into the coarse rope. Clopin raises a finger to his lips, his eyes passing over the three intruders.
"Sush. Don't interrupt me! Rude! You're very clever to have found our hideaway." Clopin compliments the men for their competence, even if it will be short lived. "Unfortunately for you three, you won't live to tell the tale to anyone."
La Cité des Cloches
The Court of Miracles
They are led in the dark for a good distance before they are forcibly blindfolded just as they started seeing the small twinkling of light at the end of the tunnel. Phoebus tried to avoid being blindfolded and was knocked with a hard backfist to the cheek. That left him bruised and bleeding from the lip. Kuro and Quasimodo didn't try to do the same thing after that display. In total darkness, they are dragged. Kuro could see faint light through the blindfold, as well as the rushing silhouettes of all shapes and sizes surrounding the three prisoners. Their gawking and laughter jumbled into a mess of screams.
Quasimodo, Kuro and Phoebus are dragged, pushed and forced through the crowd before they are forced to climb the steps leading to the performing platform, where the stagehands were fixing a trio of nooses that were to be placed around their necks.
"Gather around, everybody! There's good "noose" tonight!" The laughter of the people echo through the caverns and the tunnels of the Court of Miracles. Kuro's blood ran cold, they were fixing to hang them.
"It's a fine show tonight! We have in our possession, a couple of Frollo's spies!" The crowd boos in response, only for Clopin to raise his hands to continue to command the attention of the crowd.
"And not just any spies! His captain of the guard, and his loyal, bell ringing henchman!" Clopin notes as he is about to pull the handle to drop the floor out from underneath Quasimodo, Kuro and Phoebus. "Along with a poor soul that was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Any last words?"
The trio of noosed men shout muffled sounds of protests, Clopin's hand cupped around his ear to pay particular attention to their last words, before offering a quick shrug in response and an unsympathetic smile to the crowd.
"That's what they all say! With that, I decree that you're guilty of the worst crime of all, being innocent." Clopin cries a few crocodile tears, before breaking his sobbing into a maniacal laughter and tightening his hold on the lever. "And the punishment is death by hanging!"
Clopin's hands grip the lever and was fixing to drop them through the floor to hang them until they were dead. That's when the heard it.
"Stop!" A voice broke through the crowd, all eyes turning towards the owner of the shout. That's when everyone sees the dark haired dancer, Esmeralda, rushing up towards the execution podium.
"Ezmurilda!" The muffled voices of the soon to be hanged men begin to shout at varying degrees and inflections. Quasimodo speaks loudly with his heart now beating in his throat, recalling her courage to save him on the podium the day before. Phoebus speaks with a voice of surprise, her persistence to do what is right, even if it meant speaking up against her own people was something to behold. And Kuro is shouting with a taut neck and gagged scream, trying desperately not to be hanged for the ill thought crime of even being associated with Frollo.
"These men aren't spies, they're our friends!" Esmerelda speaks with her whole heart, as she quickly removes the nooses off of the men's necks and pulls the gags out of their mouths. As soon as the hands were freed, they reached to undo the blinds that were tied along their eyes.
"Why didn't they say so?" Clopin asked with a pursed frown. "We would have listened!"
"We did say so!" Kuro shouts, rubbing the rope burn along his throat. His teeth ground together as he feels the tenderness around his neck. "We are here to help."
"This is the soldier that saved the miller's family. This is the young man who stood up for the innocent when no one else would." Esmerelda's finger pointed towards the now excommunicated Captain of the Guard and towards the Heartless, before turning her finger towards the Bell Ringer and her eyes softened. Just seeing the gentle hearted Quasimodo brave the outside world to find the sanctuary she promised him. "And Quasimodo, he helped me escape the cathedral. They are our friends."
"We came to warn you! Frollo's coming! He says he knows where you're hiding, and he's attacking at dawn with a thousand men!" The crowd gasps and shrieks at the words from Phoebus, Esmerelda's hands rising up to gather their attention, and to hopefully bring their attention back to her.
"Then let's waste no time! We must leave immediately!" She orders, her voice carrying throughout the room.
On a dime, the denizens of the Court of Miracles began to pick up their pace and gather their belongings. Many of them shoving their belongings into carts and wagons, others throwing their carpet bags and backpacks on preparing their children for travel. The crowd had dispersed as quickly as a puff of smoke breaks and disappeared, beginning to run to every corner.
Kuro watched as the innocent people had made a home in the catacombs under the graveyard. They made rooms for whole families out of the outlets that lined what could be considered a grand hall. The center of the room housed tables and chairs for meals to be shared with the community. Lined paper cutouts of images of saints, dancing women, and mythological creatures ran from end to end along a line in a zig zagging motion.
And they had to pack it all away. Dismantle it. Preparing to leave the Court of Miracles to avoid Frollo's wrath. Esmeralda moves close to Phoebus. Her lips curled into a thankful smile as she felt this tension in her chest weaken at seeing him alive and well.
"You took a terrible risk coming here." Esmerelda's hand reaches up to cup the swollen cheek of the golden haired man, her gaze meeting him as his calloused hand reaches up to curl his fingers around hers. Giving them a tight squeeze, a gentle smile breaking his rigid face. "It may not exactly show, but we're grateful."
As she moves closer to rest her lips against his once again, Phoebus sees Quasimodo's eyes shift away and his hands begin to comb over one another.
"Don't thank me. Thank Quasimodo." Phoebus breaks from her hold and nudges his chin towards the Bell Ringer. Quasimodo's face brightens up with a huge grin breaking across his face. Esmerelda smiles back, reaching out to cup his chin. "Without his help, I would never have found my way here."
"Nor would I!" The voice that cut through belonged to Frollo and his men appeared in the walkway. Soldiers begin to charge with swords drawn and spears at the ready. They moved too swiftly, and surrounded the people before they could react. The guards pulled out the manacles and chains, and took the innocent people into custody. Kuro locked his hands to fight, only for a guard to grab a hostage and press the blade to her throat.
"He's the one who's been knocking our boys around and taking people to Notre Dame! Don't try anything! Or I'll turn her throat inside out." The guard shouted, a twist of the blade drawing blood against the woman's throat. Kuro's hand rose up, shaking his head and his eyes focused on the man.
"Don't hurt her!" Kuro roared back, just as three guards took hold of his arms and jammed a foot into his knee. Sending him to the floor. Kuro refused to fight back, not wanting them to start carving up these people.
"After twenty years of searching, the Court of Miracles is mine at last!" Frollo raised his voice in victory, arms spreading out to his sides as his eyes linger on the Bell Ringer. "Dear Quasimodo, I always knew you would someday be of use to me."
"What are you talking about?" Esmeralda questioned, her eyes narrowed and her eyes filled with hatred towards the Judge.
"Why, he led me right to you, my dear." Frollo stated, fingertips pressed together as he looked over the Dancer with a wicked stare.
"You're a liar!" Esmerelda shouted, not believing for a second that Quasimodo would do such a thing. Frollo walked along to the guards that had clapped cuffs to Phoebus' wrists, spearheads prodding at his back and shoulders to keep him from running.
"And look what else I've caught in my net. Captain Phoebus, back from the dead. Like Lazarus. Another miracle, no doubt. I shall be sure to remedy that, don't worry." Frollo's cold words chill the grotto, before his eyes glance over the poor folk who are now being bound in chains and finally captured by the Judge. "There will be a little bonfire in the square this evening, and you're all invited to attend… Take them away."
"No, please, master." Quasimodo begged, dropping to his hands and knees before the armed guards came along his side and grabbed him up by the wrists. Locking him into manacles alongside Phoebus and Esmerelda.
"Take him back to the bell tower, and make sure he stays there. Now…" Frollo walks on by Quasimodo and approaches the Heartless, whose eyes hold a fury that could make stones bleed if they could, and looms over the currently restrained Kuro with a quick flash of satisfaction across his face. His pitch black eyes staring down at him with such disdain and disgust. His sneer formed and his hands held into fists. Frollo reached into his pocket, his eyes never leaving Kuro's. "What to do with you?"
"You killed all those people! You should be ashamed of yourself! How could you? What the hell is wrong with-" Kuro's conversation was cut short, felt a blade pierce his side, followed by a harsh twist of the knife. Frollo didn't bat an eyelash, sinking his short knife deeper between Kuro's ribs, his breath never elevating for a moment.
"The purge I brought this day is of the wicked and vile. You're a Demon, you wouldn't discriminate if you had the chance to do any real harm. You'd paint the streets a dripping red with the blood of the innocent if you could. No matter. You'll be sent swiftly to the depths of Hell, where you justly belong." Frollo let go of the knife, leaving it to stick in the abdomen of the Heartless. He couldn't have the silver haired beast bleed out before he could be properly punished. "I hope you enjoyed your time here. You'll be burning with the damned and the putrid soon enough."
Kuro huffed and groaned at the stinging sensation in his body. The blade felt as though it were held over a flame, waves of unbearable heat coursing outwards from his open wound. But Kuro refused to give Frollo the satisfaction of his pain. With a wicked scowl and a frenzied glare, he roars defiantly at Frollo. His arms pulled against the hold the guards had on him, as he tried to drag his body towards the Judge. To hurt him as much as he hurt everyone else.
"You're the only Demon here! You hurt all those innocent people and think you're still on the side of the Angels? No goddamn way! And you're going to send me to Hell?" Kuro growled, gnashing his teeth as Judge Frollo took hold of a small wooden club that was holstered on his waist and tightened his hold along the handle. Kuro threw his head back and lobbed a shot of spit mixed against the Judge's cheek. The air stilled and it was as if the room held its breath at the audacity. Frollo's cheeks went pale, and his eyes went wild. Such an act of defiance was not going to be ignored.
"Guess what, you bastard? The moment I'm free, I'm gonna enjoy smashing your face into noth-" Frollo crashes the side of Kuro's head, the knocking echoing in the tunnel. The noise was sharp, piercing to the ears and the darkness that took Kuro's vision made his voice drop to a rumble and his lips painfully carved into a devious grin.
What came out of Kuro's mouth next made the soldiers tremble and freeze in their spots.
The loose cackles that escaped his mouth were of pure defiance, it rang with the gargle of blood in the back of his throat, with his lips dribbling red. This sound chilled the air around them. Even if Kuro couldn't see their pale faced expressions, he would get the last sound in. Rub in the old man's face that Kuro refused to be defeated so soundly. This made the hairs on the Judge's neck stand on end. The Heartless laughed, after being bludgeoned and stabbed. It infuriated the man. And Frollo struck him again for good measure. Across the other side, as to maintain symmetry.
Kuro slumped into his spot after the second head strike, and proceeded to be dragged like a battered marionette by their strings against the sewer floors by the guards. His shoes catching every uneven brick and his head rolling along his shoulders loosely with every readjustment of the soldier's grip. The only thing keeping his skull from rolling off was the fact it was attached to his neck. Well, still attached to his neck.
Quasimodo and Phoebus were shackled and trailed behind. Their eyes lingering on the thin trail of blood that trickled behind them as they were escorted out. Esmerelda and her people were shortly after them.
That night there would be a Pyre fit for a witch, and alongside her would be the righteous damnation of a Demon. Frollo was delighted in this turn of events as he trails behind with a wick smile breaking across his face. If it all worked out well, he would be walking home with an obedient Esmerelda under his arm to satisfy his lecherous desires and Kuro's unnatural existence would fade painfully slow and he would die screaming while his body would be burnt to a crisp. The Judge was satisfied, because the Judge had won.