Snippet #2609166

Only a couple more minutes. That was all the time he needed. Ella's bed marinated in her blood as she bled from everywhere. The smell of death—something Lazurus was far too familiar with—was palpable. He just needed to hold onto the guards for a moment longer. Just a moment. He looked down at Ella's hands. The skin was greying. He worried that he might have over spent himself. Would be be able to get out of bed? He was going to have to.
He took deep breaths preparing for the moment that he'd have to lit himself out of bed. It quite possibly, was going to be one of the more difficult moments in his life. It was pathetic in a way. The fact that simply lifting himself out of bed, something he'd done so many times in his life, was now a challenge.
The sound of footsteps started to grow from the hallway. The guards were coming to relieve the others from their post.
Lazurus took a deep breath and lifted himself into a seated position and waited for the commanding officer on the other side to knock. The officer, however, didn't bother to knock this time. This was a change in the procedure, probably due to lack of attentiveness more than anything. This was perfect. The officer walked through the door and told the guards standing guard already that they were to be relieved. The three guards on duty, didn't heed the command. Instead, they withdrew their swords; each attacking their counterpart before they even had a chance to properly react.
At that moment, a clank of armour rang through the hallway as all three men fell. That was soon followed by the fallen armour of the three guards who had attacked their revealing forces. With that, Lazurus let out a huge sigh and collapsed back into bed. A million tons had just been lifted off Ella's shoulder. Soon, the bleeding stopped and he knew that he was going to recover from this.
Lazurus took a moment to take in his situation. To really see how well he would be able to move. He tested his arms. They were heavy and he felt weak, but he could still move them. Then his hands and fingers. While his fingers were useless, unable to move as if they were a rusted metal joint on a plate of armour. He still had a slight amount of dexterity left in his wrists, but hardly any. The same applied to his legs and feet. He was going to be able to walk, but it was going to be a struggle.
Slowly he shifted out of the bed. His arms, merely used to attempt to make sure he landed feet first. He slid down like a snake until his butt gently sat itself of the cold stone floor. From this position, he attempted to leverage his arms on the floor to push himself up to his feet. This didn't work too well and with the swollen stomach that Ella had developed, he wasn't exactly weighted in a way that would help him get up from a seated position. He changed tactics, opting to get himself into a kneeling position, facing the bed. He lifted his arms, and with a muffled slap, they hit the bed. He used his arms as his anchoring point and lifted, rolling over his toes and onto his feet. From there, the struggle of just lifting his body with merely his weakened legs was enough for him to let out a grunt. He jumped a little at the sound of his voice. Even after six months, he wasn't quite used to the girl's voice that he had adopted.
Lazurus trudged through the room and to the doorway, only poking his head out to see if anyone else was near by. As he suspected, there was no one. It was time to make his escape.

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In the city's lower district, Dominic, Rick and Simon were held up in a small house. Its size compared to houses in the nicer districts in the city made the house look more like a tool shed of sorts, but this modest place was once home to a small family before they were slaughter in a vicious riot that broke out in the city a month ago. Since then, Dominic had been using it as his own little house when he wanted to get out of the castle for a day. It wasn't much, but it was enough.
A knock at the door distracted Dominic from Rick, who was sleeping on the overused cot in the corner of the room. He slowly opened the door, making sure not to place his head directly out the crack as to avoid any blades from getting him by surprise. On the other side, however, he only saw the face of Peter, a Black Guard. How he knew to find Dominic in a small shack in the lower district was beyond him. Dominic stepped through the door and shut it quietly behind him.
“What are you doing here, Peter?”
“I've come with a message. Jake has come into town. He's come to relieve you of your duties. Wouldn't say much more about it, but he doesn't sound too happy about it.”
Dominic rolled his eyes, although he couldn't blame Jake. “Thank you.”

“He's coming now?” Simon asked as Dominic entered the shack again. 
“How did you hear that?” Dominic asked in shock. Dominic instantly regretted his decision to ask the question. It was an admission without actually saying it plain. 
“I'm not deaf and the two of you speak louder than a drunken spy slurring out restricted information at a bar.”
“Yes,” Dominic sighed, “he's coming.” 
Simon didn't say anything else to Dominic. While Dominic didn't know what else he was expecting the man to say, he did expect him to ask more questions. While Dominic didn't enjoy the silence as much as his friend there, he wasn't going to bother lest he wanted to be belittled some more. Instead, Dominic stepped outside of the shack again and waited for Jake to come by. 
In the meantime, he had the pleasure of watching two cats hiss at each other over territory. The grey tabby cat had walked into the orange cat's territory. Orange took note and instantly puffed up, hissing and showing off it's cheek muscles. A cat's cheeks was typically a good indication of how tough the cat was. Usually the cat with the larger cheeks would win a fight if it came to it.
Unfortunately for Orange, Tabby was a little bigger than him. Orange, however, was not going to give up its territory to a slightly larger cat. Orange could still take Tabby on in a fair fight. Dominic decided that he didn't want to see any more fighting. He'd seen enough for a lifetime and was sure he'd see more before his Death. He threw a rock at Tabby and he ran off.

Jake and Sophie had spent about half an hour sitting in Ess’ former house and talking about the people who had stopped by looking for her. It struck Jake as amusing that this was the first time he was ever in his sister’s house and she had long since moved. One of the ‘visitors’ Sophie mentioned Jake had already heard of through Sheila. He’d tracked the guy pretty easily and come to the conclusion he was harmless. The others acted too harmless for Jake’s liking and while none matched the description of the man named Hector, Jake had a gut feeling they were connected to him somehow. He warned Sophie to watch out for herself, and Bran, around those types, his warning met with glare that clearly meant ‘what, do you think I’m dumb?’. He chuckled and said nothing more on the subject. They parted ways on the street, Sophie heading to the castle and Jake towards his former home. One last stop before starting on his new mission.

He knocked on the door a certain number of times and waited. One of the assassins opened the door with a smile that clearly indicated he was expecting someone specific. “Oh, Jake,” the man mumbled, smile fading slowly, “can I help you with something?”
“Expecting someone Travis?” Jake snickered. “I need someone to send along a message to Crys. She should be back in Blackpond by now.”
“I thought it was Allison. She was supposed to be back today. Is she staying in the desert? Lowell said... It was bad?”
“I don’t know where Ali’s headed, but she was waiting for Crys to decide, so maybe she left a bit late,” he told the man. “So... Travis... Message... Can you send it for me? It need to go out today.”
“Uhm, sure. What should I tell her?”
“Tell her I need Kaya back at the Nest as soon as possible. Everything is fine, I just need her for an assignment.”
“Will do.”
Tell Ali to be safe, when she gets here, okay?”
The man half smile. “Sure, man.”

Travis was halfway through closing the door when he opened it again. “Oh, Jake! One of your knight buddies was around here earlier... He had this other guy with him... They went that way, if it’s relevant.”
“Ah, great.” Jake snorted, seeming less than pleased with the information really. “Thanks, Travis.”

The door closed and Jake headed in the direction the assassin had pointed him. As he turned a corner a tabby cat ran at full speed in his direction and slipped between his legs, almost tripping him over. “What the hell!” Jake muttered, looking over his shoulder as the tabby disappeared behind a pile of rubbish near one of the houses. “Crazy cat.”

A few steps into the street and he spotted Dominic, the man was the only person standing the empty street. “Very inconspicuous, gotta give him that,” Jake smirked. Of course Dominic was a big guy, it wouldn’t be hard to spot in a crowded street, but standing there alone made him stand out even more.

Jake rose his hand in a half-hearted wave as he approached the Knight. Stopping before the man and spreading his arms as though greeting a long lost friend; which Dominic wasn’t. “Sir Dominic. How delightful to see you again...” He spoke, with a laugh underneath his words, taking a playful bow as if mocking the very concept of civilized greetings. It wasn’t that Jake didn’t like the man, but something about Dominic just made him want to tease the man. Probably still a lingering effect of their very first meeting. “Funny how we almost never meet when you don’t have a Blackpond rat clinging to your shadow, isn’t it?” Jake had been all laughs and mischief with Sophie, but the bitterness had returned to him the moment he put one single thought to what he was asked to do. He had to remind himself who and why he was doing it for and even so he couldn’t make it disappear completely. “I’m not happy, and I truly see no point in this, but Captain asked that I think your little buddy off your hands and keep him alive... for now... So take him I shall...” Jake’s eyes seemed to turn to ice for a brief moment, but it faded. The young man breathed a sigh and put his hands in his pockets, his posture relaxing as we as his tone. “I have to ask; have you heard of all the deaths? In the forest... In the desert? I told the Captain little over an hour ago, but I know these things spread fast.”

Jake came down the road in his typical fashion. Even with no one in the streets, his demeanour implied that he was ready to go into hiding at a moments notice, almost like a skittish mouse. His words struck more like a snake. Each jab came out with a venomous edge; none that were lethal, but all of them with the intention to hurt. None of them hurt Dominic, not really. He understood that Jake had issues controlling his emotions, especially when he was forced into doing things he didn't want to do. He could only imagine that Jake didn't want to babysit. 
Then Jake's tone shifted and he spoke of deaths. “What deaths?”

Jake smiled at Dominic’s question. “Ah. So the guard I sent after you hadn’t been listening in on my talk with the Captain... That’s good to know. I’m sure you’ll get the details in the castle somewhere, so to cut things short here: The Wolfpack lost its Alpha, and the Crimson Shadows lost well... almost its entire ranks. I was recently there watching the corpses being prepared for the pyre, the most friends I lost in a day. Valcrest is just a gift that keeps on giving, ain’t it?” Jake snorted. “Anything relevant I need to know about this Blackpond guy before I take him off your hands, Dom? If not, just hand him over so I can be on my way. I don’t think I’ve ever been more eager to leave this city than today.”

No wonder he's on edge. Dominic thought as Jake quickly briefed him on the recent events to the west. An ally to the Black Knights and likely to Newhaven was nearly wiped out of existence and the mad Alpha of the Wolves was no longer. It was hard to say what was to happen to the Wolf Pack now that it lost its third leader in less than a decade, but no new or strong leaders were left of them. As for the Crimson, it was hard to say as well. Without knowing the true state of their losses, Dominic could only be left to speculate. 
“Nothing to be said about these Blackpond folk except for the fact that the one is insane and the mute's a ripe old prick.” Dominic snorted.
“That's no way to talk about me.” The thoughts of Simon intruded him. Dominic turned around to see Simon standing at the door, waving with a smile plastered across his face.
“Can he hear you?” Dominic asked, motioning to Jake.
“Now he can. Nice to speak to you again Jake. Hopefully you do a little less of it or at least say something intelligent. Dom here is insufferable.”
“Have fun.” Dominic said, smiling as he walked down the street the way Jake had come.

Jake was less than pleased to have someone’s voice in his head, but he had been warned of this guy’s inability to speak normally, so he'd have to excuse it. He waited for Dominic to leave before addressing Simon. “I have more interest in speaking to my horse than you. Likewise I’d much rather not hear a peep from you in my head unless it’s necessary. I honestly don’t know what you want, seeing as you could break your idiot King from prison on your own without having to show your face; hell, a Wolfpack recruit could have pulled that off in the state Newhaven's in, but I’m quite frankly past the point of caring for what you people want or what you’re planning... I’m just going to play along until you give me a good enough excuse to kill you.”

Gesturing towards the opposite direction Dominic had wandered off to, Jake urged Simon to walk in front of him. “I’m not stationed here, so we’re leaving the city.” He informed, not sure whether or not Dominic had mentioned, or was even aware of that. Afterwards he fell completely silent.

Simon was a little displeased to find himself leaving Newhaven so early. He'd just gotten there and intended on finding what he was looking for before leaving. The misfortune of fate brought him to this. He was no longer in control of where he ended up now that he was being hauled around by a Black Knight. Especially not Jake Turner. Of all the Black Knights, Jake wasn't one to be pushed around. Even Simon could find a way to sway Mageria to do things for him. She was smart to get Jake to take care of him. A miscalculation on his part.
Simon pushed up ahead of Jake, but didn't move for a moment. “Come along, Rick.” He turned around to look at the shack that he was staying at. He didn't say anything to Jake and just waited. A minute passed before Rick sluggishly passed through the door. Simon was sure that Jake probably wasn't pleased to see the sickly King. It would slow down travel for sure and Jake seemed to be in a rush to get out of the city.
With Jake behind them, the two started walking. Simon supposed that he was probably headed towards the front gate, so he went along. Rick's paced slowed them down, but it was no real issue. In fact, the longer he was in the city, the better. Not only did it allow him just a little more time to get his work done, but it also allowed him protection. Being around a Black Knight was good protection, but as long as he was in the city, he hadn't found the item he was looking for, which meant that neither had Vorso. The minute he left the city would be the minute Vorso would strike. At least, that's what he expected.
With immediacy in his stance, Rick perked up. Simon was surprised by this change in his demeanour, but he knew what that meant. After a period of lethargic stupor, Rick was back into his stage of enthusiastic work. There was no stopping him now, which meant Jake and Rick went where he went. Simon stopped ad turned to Jake. “I go where he goes. So you can either do your duty and follow me or you can abandon your obligations... or, I suppose, you could try and kill us. Either way, I'll be over here.” He pointed towards the street that Rick was hurriedly walking down and turned to walk that way. Jake would either follow him or there would be a fight. Simon just continued to walk, hoping it would be the former.
Simon followed Rick right to the street where the infamous Wolf Inn was. And was the Inn ever busy. People coming in and out of the place in a constant stream. Old ad young, rich and poor, drunk and drunker. All forms of life were about the Inn. It seemed that this was where Rick was headed. Simon followed closely behind him, hand softly pressed against the dagger sitting against his pant leg.

Jake was beyond displeased at the sight of Rick, but he managed to not act on his urge to just kill the man where he stood. He had not forgotten the situation at the Ball in the slightest, nor would he ever. It didn’t matter if the guy was messed up in the head, sick, or whatever else. His eyes on Crys that day marked him a dead man the moment Jake had a say in the matter. At the moment he didn’t however, so when the bastard started to stray from the path he was so eager to take and Simon declared he would follow, Jake complied. It wasn’t duty; and if Simon expected to play that card often he was in for a surprise, but Jake did remind himself that Mageria trusted him, and if anything he owed her the same no matter how strongly he disagreed.

Jake was yet to draw a weapon, but he slid a black needle into his hand the moment he caught sight of Rick’s destination, the thin metal poking out between his index and his middle fingers. Why was it open? The Alpha was dead, the clan was in mourning... Sheila was in the encampment; he saw her there. The Inn should be sealed and Jake couldn’t find a reasonable explanation for why it wasn’t. Rick seemed relentless in his intent to go there however. The man was barely responsive moments ago, but now he was on a mission; and Jake could guess why. He could very well guess now why Simon wanted him free and what he was after. What he didn’t understand was his need of Newhaven for this. Simon could have rescued Rick on his own; why was Jake needed? All things considered, and for the time being, he decided he wasn’t going to worry, or act. He was just going to follow the crazed assassin and his mute companion and see where that would lead.

Simon knew that this was it. Nearly half a year of his life had been spent on this exact moment. All his efforts in tracking and hiding from people he once called allies. It had all come down to what was inside the Inn. Simon didn't question how Rick knew where to go. He didn't for a moment want to enter his mind to find out. He just summed it up to the complexity of a mad man's mind.
Jake was clearly intrigued by the Inn, just as much as Simon had been. If what Jake had said to Dominic was true, the Wolfpack should have closed the Inn and left it vacant. Some townspeople must have discovered that the assassins who usually attended the camp were gone. They must have decided to ransack the place and enjoy themselves some good fun without cash or consequence. This meant that it would probably be easily to discreetly walk in and out of the inn without much issue. Simon let in a big breath and then followed Rick through the doors into the Inn.
The Inn was filled with characters doing exactly as he had expected. People over drinking, gambling and singing songs. Overall they were eccentric and rowdy ad nauseam. There was even an old man in the corner, distributing what appeared to be weapons from a rather large box. Intrigued, by this, Simon took a seat at a nearby stool while Rick went around to a back room in search of what he was after.
It appeared to be a tournament. Two men would blindly pick a weapon out of the large box. Simon had heard rumours of a lost and found box full of different weapons owned by the Wolves at the Inn, but he took the rumours as merely a funny tale. The first men drew out a poorly crafted longsword. It looked more like a toy than a sword. Simon doubted that it could be used to kill. The next person grabbed an arrow. The crowd laughed as the man looked at his weapon with confusion.
“Good, good!” The old tournament master shouted out with a hearty chuckle. “Now these two will use their weapons in a fight to see who can first draw blood from their opponent. The man who is able to draw blood from their opponent is the victor!”
The crowd cheered again in anticipation for the fight. A small box had been created in the centre of the room with a barricade of chairs. A few kids, attempting to get a good view of the fight straddled the chairs, leaning over the barrier. Much to the displeasure of some older patrons who were attempting to keep them a safe distance from the fighting.
The two men stepped into the makeshift arena and took their stance on either side of the room. The crowd cheered for the man with the arrow. People loved a good underdog. In confidence, he lifted the arrow above his head and the crowd roared even louder. Then a few screams. The other man with the longsword had taken this moment to charge Arrow Man. He noticed just in time to back away, smashing right into a chair as he stumbled over. Arrow man, in desperation threw the arrow in Longsword's direction, but he missed entirely and the arrow flew out of the ring. Without a weapon, Arrow Man was helpless, so he jumped out of the ring, disqualifying himself from the tournament before Longsword could cut him.
The crowd, who only moments before were cheering, booed for Arrow Man. Throwing their drinks at him and finally running him out of the bar.
“Okay! We have one more spot left in the first round of this tournament! Would two more challengers please step up to grab a weapon!” The tournament master said.
Simon perked up when he heard this. Rick was busy doing the work, so Simon decided that it would be fine for him to take a break from searching and just have a good bout with some commoner. Maybe he'd even win some coin from this. Simon stood up and the tournament master shouted. “It looks like we have a contestant. Come on down and pick a weapon from the box.”
Simon went to the box. The man blindfolded him and told him to just reach in and grab something. While it didn't seem entirely safe to blindly grab into a box full of sharp objects, he did so anyways. He felt a rather ornate handle and instantly grabbed it. He knew that a weapon with such a nice handle would be crafted by a noble blacksmith. This wasn't a weapon that was made for a poor man. This was a good weapon. He lifted his hand out of the box with the weapon in hand. The man untied the blindfold and allowed Simon to get a good look at his weapon.
He didn't react at first to the dagger. An incredibly sharp, steel blade, affixed to a blue and red handle, lined with white gold. It was an impressively crafted dagger to say the least, but that wasn't what made Simon's eyes widen. He looked up to see if Jake had noticed then smirked.
“Don't make a scene out of this, Jake.” He transfered his thoughts to him. “Imagine the Wolfpack's reaction to a rumour about you killing a man over a dagger in their own establishment. It might beg the Wolves to ask some questions and start investigations.”

The Inn was in total chaos. It was obvious someone had broken in and opened up the place to the public. Jake wondered briefly how much coin the Pack would lose because of this. Under different circumstances he would have emptied those idiots’ pockets and kicked them out the door, if only for Sheila’s sake, but this time he couldn’t afford to draw that type of attention. Rick rushed to the back and Jake leaned against the bar. He was sure Simon wouldn’t let the maniac disappear on him, the telepath didn’t seemed concerned to let the man out of his sight and Jake was happy to not have to look at him anymore. He was very unimpressed and uninterested with the little tournament the ‘patrons’ had going on; it was clumsy fighting at best. He’d had more fun watching Darren and Aiden punch each other. Jake poured himself a drink, thinking to himself he’d pay for it once Sheila came back; that if she did, and drank it all in one gulp, grimacing as the liquor burned its way down. He refilled his glass while watching Simon approach the weapon box and emptied it at once again.

It was only when Jake saw what Simon got out of the box that he actually paid attention to the man. His eyes caught the dagger and he tensed. A man that had been standing near him started to step forward as if to challenge Simon, but Jake pulled him back by the collar. The man turned to Jake as if he meant to pick a fight but recognized the black feathers hanging from his belt and recoiled. Jake walked to the old man running the tournament and allowed him to blindfold him for the weapon draw. He gripped a hilt that felt somewhat familiar and drew a blade that was in between a long dagger and short sword in length. It looked well preserved and sharp enough for this. Jake smiled although his eyes were cold staring at Simon. He didn’t speak his reply to the man, but simply thought it. “Simon... Have you forgotten me? I wandered into Blackpond’s Castle and kicked down the King’s door. Are you really willing to bet your life on my fear of a leaderless pack of Wolves?”

Jake and Simon stepped into the makeshift ring and there was immediate tension in the air. To the drunken idiots surrounding the two men, nothing odd was going on other than two strangers fighting each other for sport. This wasn’t sport for Jake; someone was going to die in that ring if it was up to him. Jake felt the weight of his borrowed sword for a few seconds before making the first move and slashing at Simon’s chest, the man quickly dodging and countering as if it was nothing. It was nothing. Jake caught a glimpse of the dagger’s blade and close it had been to his body as he twisted his torso away from it, and knowing what it was threw off his balance. The back of his knees hit the barrier of chairs that formed the ring and for a split second Jake remembered Perry; the look in the man’s eyes holding that blade and rambling about his pursuit of power. He steadied before Simon could take advantage, catching the man’s attack with his own sword and throwing a punch at his face. It hit. Jake allowed Simon to recover, or so it looked; he was actually regaining his own composure instead.

To the laymen in the audience, watching the fight, Jake looked to have the upper hand. He held a sword while Simon held a dagger, and Jake had made the first punch. However, that first punch meant next to nothing as it didn't leave either fighters at an advantage. Jake's punch was far more likely out of desperation. They layman would be right that Simon was at a disadvantage though, but not for the reasons that they believed. Simon's disadvantage came about in his intent. Jake had the intent to kill while Simon merely had the intent to force Jake to concede. This left Simon with far fewer courses of action than Jake and it left him a little worried.
Simon came in with the next attack with a ferocity that his first attack didn't have. He hacked and slashed with the dagger, only ever making contact with his opponent's blade, but forcing Jake backwards. Simon wasn't giving Jake an ounce of space to fight. That is where the dagger had its advantage to the sword, especially in the closer quarters of the fighting ring. Limiting Jake's range of motion completely took away his range advantage as well as undermining his abilities to make any offensive swings back.
Simon had nearly backed Jake into the corner of the arena again. Simon doubled his efforts, attacking with twice the furry he had before, hoping to catch Jake off balance. Simon's furious attacks quickly stopped when something caught his wrist. Simon quickly grabbed Jake's wrist in retaliation. The two locked blades and held each others wrists. Sweat beating down their foreheads as they locked eyes. The crowds roar was merely a whisper in Simon's ear as he anticipated Jake's next move.
Jake pushed Simon backwards and again, the two opponents took a moment to get their footing. Jake's attack came first this time. Jake took the attack to Simon's legs, which left Jake open to any attacks from above the waist, but only if Simon had the reach, which his dagger left him short. Much to Simon's surprise, he reacted by diving towards Jake and tackling him to the ground.
Screams were heard in the audience as Jake's sword clamoured to the floor just outside the arena. Jake was now without a sword, which meant that the competition would be over soon. All Simon had to do was draw blood and they would put the fight to an end before it escalated any further. The two rolled on the floor, grappling and pushing until Simon found himself straddled over top of Jake. Jake Threw his hands up in defence. Simon looked for the opening and threw a punch just around his hands, connecting just below Jake's right eye. Simon then attempted to press his dagger against the boy's cheek to draw first blood, but Jake threw up his hand and grabbed Simon by the forearm. Simon grabbed the hilt of the dagger with both hands and pressed down as hard as he could while Jake did the same from the other end. Now it turned into a battle of will. Both men were about equal in strength and it was just down to the first person to concede. In Jake's eyes, he saw someone with the will of a true killer. Something that Simon didn't have. He was going to lose the battle of wills... unless.
Simon closed his eyes for a moment. When they opened, they were shining a seafoam green. Jake's eyes grew wider as he realized what this meant, but by then, it was too late. It wasn't hard for Simon to find Jake's mind. A clear mind was hard to find, but for one that was attempting to keep in control and maintain his will, Jake's mind was like an open book.
“Hi Jake. You can't talk back to me right now. I'm not going to allow it, but that's fine. Just sit back and enjoy the carriage ride I'm about to take you on.”
Jake's mind looked like a sea of colours. It was a painter's cleaning bowl after a long day's work where watered down paint swished and swirled around to make winding streaks in the water. These colours swam viciously through the expanse as Jake pushed the unmoving object, which was Simon, out of his mind. The colours, however, abruptly stilled themselves and, with a little resistance, flowed into the expanse, creating a world around which Simon could create the thoughts. It started out as a few stone pillars and some grass, but quickly grew into a large meadow with tents and old stone buildings covering up some of the empty space. Next, people started to flow out of the tents and structures; more people than what should have reasonably fit. Jake would never notice. Neither, would he notice the fact that he wasn't actually experiencing any of this from the first person, but rather, from just above the whole scene. Each face was a person familiar to Jake. Not all of them should have been in this mock Blackhurst camp, but each of them wore the garbs of the White Shadow either way. The one thing that Simon let slip was making Crystal one of those people in the garb. Hopefully Jake didn't notice or the plan would be ruined entirely. He moved Crystal into one of the tents to disconnect the thought all together. Then, out of the same tent came Lena, who walked towards Jake, at least Jake's image of himself. It always amused Simon to see what people's image of themselves were. It was never what they actually looked like. It could be better or it could be worse, but it was never true to reality. In Jake's case, it was worse.
Jake handed Lena the dagger, which seemed to just appear in his hand. Lena nodded happily and then threw the dagger into a fire, where it burned up and turned to smoke.
Hopefully, this would be enough. A suggestion that the dagger no longer existed could be the thing to break Jake's will and allow Simon to finish the fight. Simon snapped back into reality. The look of shock that Simon had left seeing Jake's face in was now gone and it appeared to Simon that it did in fact work. Slowly, Simon was getting the edge. The dagger carefully made its way towards Jake's face. But the trick ore off too quickly. Jake noticed the dagger and realized that it wasn't in fact destroyed. He had been tricked.
This time, Jake put all his strength into pulling the dagger to his left. This threw Simon completely off from on top of Jake and rolling across the floor.
Simon jumped to his feet and looked around the arena. Jake was now gone. He looked above him to see if he was hanging from a rafter. Nothing. He wouldn't have fled, so he had to be around somewhere. Next, Simon looked for the sword on the floor. The instant he looked over to it, it had disappeared into seeming nothingness. Simon began to suspect that Jake could disappear at the will of his enlightenment, which worried Simon a little. He could try to listen for Jake, but with the crowd's banter, there was no way he was going to successfully hear a thing. Simon was going to have to get creative. His head jerked from side to side to look for something that he could use to assist him.
On the other side of the room, a group of people sat on a piece of the chair barricade that had been set up. He ran towards them, hearing the air being cut by Jake's sword right behind him as he took his first few steps. That was a close one. The men had bottles in their hand. He grabbed the bottles and threw them in every which direction across the floor, leaving the floor covered in green glass. If he couldn't see Jake, he could at least see where he was walking now.
With every step Jake took, glass flipped around the floor. The flipping stopped for a moment, and then continued. Each distortion of the glass got closer until Jake was in striking range. Simon couldn't know where the attack came from, but instead, he kicked the glass up towards Jake. He dived towards Jake, attempting to take this fight to the floor again, but the two of them just stumbled to the floor and into a puddle of booze that was left from the broken glass. Instantly, Jake became visible again. His eyes stopped glowing and he got up from the floor. Simon did the same. The two of them were now covered in scratches from the glass. Simon could feel a shard of glass lodged in his face.
Jake and Simon both looked at each other with an intensity that would cut through anyone who even tried to step between them. Unfortunately, for the game master, it was him. “This fight is clearly a draw.” The old man shouted.
The crowds roar completely drowned out the sound of the man's spine collarbone snapping as Jake tackled the man and used him as a shield as he pressed towards Simon with his sword out like a lancer. Simon used what little time he had to react to perry the blade away from him, cutting the game master down in the process. Screams were now heard from the crowds as they started to run in every which direction in panic. Simon took the confusion as his chance to escape. He dived over the chairs and into the panicked crowd, trying his best to blend in. He was stopped rather quickly by Jake, who had thrown a chair at him. He arched his back in pain and flopped to the ground. He turned around, bracing his hands on the floor behind him as he saw Jake approach in a furry; sword ready to take its next victim. Before he could slay his strike down, a twinkle from behind Jake flew towards him and struck just above the hilt of his blade, causing him to drop it.
“What's all this about Jake?” Simon heard a yell from the direction the throwing blade had come. He didn't stay long enough to see what it was though. He turned around and ran out of the Inn, hoping to gain some distance on Jake before he found him.
As he left the Inn, he saw Rick standing across the street, just standing, watching the panicked crowd rushing out of the Inn. He ran over, grabbed the man's hand and ducked into the shadows before anyone could follow him.

Jake cringed when the sword slipped from his grasp. He didn’t need to hear Evin’s voice to know it was him. Of course it was. He caught a glimpse of Simon disappearing out the door, but instead of following the man directly he turned the other way, momentarily rushed towards Evin as though he was about unleash his wrath on the man, but walking past him instead. “Fucking hell, Evin... What joy do you take in screwing up my plans?” He muttered out, otherwise not even looking the man in the eyes and climbing the stairs to the top floor of the Inn in a hurry. He slipped out the window and jumped to the roof of the adjacent building.

Jake had spent some time with Sham on the rooftops after she helped him out of Blackpond and even though he lacked the woman’s speed and agility he’d learned his way around the city rooftops, he knew them almost as well as she. Finding Simon in a crowd wouldn’t be that easy, but he could recognize Rick’s walk miles away in the state the man was currently in. If wasn’t for Simon’s insistence to drag the sick man around he might have gotten away from Jake. At least the nutcase was good for one thing.

Sham had a point in her methods; people hardly felt the need to look up. Even though Jake was invisible, he was probably being overzealous; Simon had not glanced above his head once. He’d followed both men, watching them from above until opportunity to intercept them presented itself. Jake dropped from the edge of a building directly in front of Simon, the man colliding into ‘nothing’. Jake quickly disarmed Simon, knocking the dagger from his hand to the floor and planting his left foot firmly over it before showing himself, a dagger of his own held tightly in his clenched fist. “I’m not supposed to kill you, as per my Captain’s orders, Simon. I like Mageria, and I’d rather play nice, but if I bring back that dagger I’m sure she’ll understand my side... If you have one good reason why things should end any differently you better say so now. And be quick about it, because today I’ve already been driven miles past the point of tolerating bullshit.”

Simon's head hit the floor hard when he was knocked down. For a moment, he saw a flash of bright light, then his vision went blurry. He wasn't quite sure of where he was until his eyes cleared up enough to see Jake above him, spitting words down to him. Simon shifted uncomfortably, tying to sit himself up. He didn't dare attempt to stand. The world was spinning around him.
Simon tried as hard as he could to focus on Jake. He shook his head and then tried again. The world seemed to begin to steady itself. His eyes brightened as he was about to speak, but then he reconsidered his thoughts. From out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Rick, slowly shifting behind Jake. It would seem that Jake's focus was fixed on Simon and the dagger more than it was Rick.
“First off. I'd like to start by saying that there are people other than me who want this dagger. In fact, I should be the least of your worries when it comes to that dagger. My friends are waiting for me to exit the city with this dagger. The only reason that they haven't entered the city is because it would be safer to attack me once I'm in the woods. When they find out that I've died, which they will soon enough, they'll enter the city and terrorize it until they find this dagger. My methods will seem tame in comparison.” He paused, watching from the corner of his eyes as Rick leaned down to grab the dagger from under Jake's foot. The moment he touched it, his eyes flashed and he disappeared. “Of course. If that's not incentive enough, I'm sure that the fact that Rick has just disappeared with the dagger will be enough incentive to keep me alive.” He waited to watch Jake's reaction in amusement. Despite the entertainment value of Rick's disappearing act, Simon wasn't happy. Now he was going to have to go searching for the guy again. “The man's deranged. Who's to say what he's going to do with that dagger or where he's taking it? You'll never be able to find him. Not without my help.” Simon smiled again. This time, with a maniacal twist. He'd just dodged Death that time. If it weren't for Rick, nothing that Simon would have said could have saved him. He'd had no leverage and lying wasn't a game worth playing with Jake. It was a good thing that mad men were so easy to persuade. And with a little help from his enlightenment, Simon had done the impossible.

Jake showed no reaction to Rick disappearing with the dagger, even though that in itself was one heck of a display of anger. He listened to what Simon had to say and snorted. “Say you do find him... Then what? What do you want with it, Simon? How does it ‘help me’ that you find it, or that you live? Valcrest is small, I have a lot of friends, are you betting your life in my inability to find one crazy man? The sickness is in his blood also, he won’t be teleporting around for much longer. Dagger or no... I have every intention of finding good ol’ King Richard...” Jake turn around and started to walk towards the city gates as was his original plan. “Long live the King...” He sneered. “We’ll see about you later, Simon... If you think I’m dangerous, I have a friend I look forward to introducing you to... Her name is Kaya.”

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Evin felt like such an idiot when he'd seen Jake's face glaring at him. All he wanted was to stop the mayhem that was causing him such insomnia. It just so happened that the one causing his insomnia was Jake. Of course, he didn't know that when he was stopping him from killing the man on the floor. He just saw Jake's back and in a moment of gut reaction, more out of the fact that he wanted sleep than anything else, he just wanted to stop the killing from happening.
He realized the mistake now. If Jake was so blatantly after someone, there was typically a good reason, even if Evin didn't always agree with him. However, the chase was now being conducted outside of the Inn. Maybe, once the people settled down again, he'd get some sleep.
But, as if it were some sort of divine intervention, preventing Evin from getting a proper sleep, the door burst open and several guards entered the Inn with their swords brandished.
“Nobody move!” the one in the front shouted. “Everyone here is under arrest for illegal arena fighting in the city. Do not try to run or you will be killed.”
“Just perfect.” Evin muttered.
The crowds at the Inn were still rather large and he could move around them without any attention being drawn to him. He made his way to the stairs and started to walk up them.
“You, at the stairs!” The man said. “Stop under order of the queen regent Mag—” The voice trailed off into a grunt followed by a nervous stutter from the guards. The one who had been making demands to Evin had been stabbed in the gut by one of the patrons at the Inn. Soon enough, the entire room filled with fighting. Patrons hastily lined up to grab weapons from the box while others revealed that they'd been hiding weapons underneath their clothes the entire time. More guards started piling in until there were nearly a hundred people packed into the Inn. While it was a large place, it never meant to hold so many people. The fighting was brutal and there was no room. Quickly, people started to get pushed up the stairs. Some of the fighting was headed directly towards Evin.
A man holding a candle in one hand and a short sword in the other. He tried to hand the candle to Evin, “Go light the signal. Let them know that the castle is ready for attack!”
Evin pushed the candle away from him. “What the hell are you talking about boy!”
“Damn you old man!” The guy said, shoving his sword into Evin's hand and pushing him aside. The boy ran past him and up the stairs.
Confusion overwhelmed Evin, but he figured that being confused while holding a sword was better than to not be holding a sword. At least in this situation, it was. He extended the sword out as far as it could allow him and prayed that he didn't have to use it.

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Dominic's walk was a quiet one. The streets of Newhaven at night recently were tranquil, making walking around a comfortable thing to do. Being a Knight gave him protection. His uniform protected him in the way armour wasn't usually meant to protect. It was intimidating to face a Knight, white or black, in the middle of the night. Even larger groups of people were hesitant to even be seen by the Knight in the streets. If they were seen, they'd scurry away like rats.
This allowed Dominic to walk to streets completely undisturbed. He was alone with his thoughts and it was comforting. He slipped his hands around his belt and dragged his feet across the cobblestone, making an awful scraping sound. It didn't take long for Dominic to realize that maybe it wasn't the best idea to do that in the middle of the night. He picked up his feet and continued on his way.
His thoughts drifted from the state of Newhaven to the state of Blackpond and finally to the world outside of Valcrest. He wondered what it was like on the other side. Many people, despite living through the hardship of war, never left Valcrest. There was something that kept everyone around. He didn't care to know why people never left, but he did wonder why he never left. He had had chances to go before. When in Blackpond, it was only a half days walk and he'd be officially out of the boarder. It was so close, but he never thought to go any further north. He'd make excuses for himself like how it was just too cold to go any further north, but in the summer time, that wasn't true. The South was too far a walk and word was that there wasn't much to the West of Valcrest. In the East, a big lake blocked the way. All of these reasons that Dominic had made from time to time were just a thinly placed veil that really just meant that he had too much to lose from leaving Valcrest. Despite the war, there was a lot for Dominic to lose if he left. He didn't want to lose it.
A light flashed through the street, illuminating it for the briefest moment. Another moment later, he heard a loud bang from behind him. An explosion? Dominic turned around and looked up at where the bang came from. All he could see, under the faint moonlight, was a small bit of smoke billowing from the middle of the night's sky. The explosion must have been a fire work. He turned back around and jumped a little. He hadn't heard them approach. For such a large group, he expected to hear at least one of them, but then, when he thought about it, the night had grown unbelievably silent.
The group was a malicious one, but one with noticeable fright in their eyes. Each one of them held a weapon, from swords to pitchforks and everything in between. At the back of the crowd, a man was holding a spadone. His eyes were aglow in a bright purple. When the Knight made eye contact with the enlightened user, his gaze slipped downwards.
Dominic didn't draw his claymore yet. He didn't see the need to. The group were obviously afraid of him, a Black Knight. They were probably hoping that he was merely just one of the guards, paroling the city centre. The man with the purple eyes had muted the world to him. That was how they'd gotten so close to him without him hearing them. When he turned and they saw he was actually a Knight, they froze in their spot, unsure of what to do. Dominic widened his stance. He was ready for a fight, but if he could intimidate the men enough for them to run off without conflict, he'd be satisfied.
The men's mouths moved, but Dominic couldn't hear what they were saying. With a few quick glances and hand movements, he gathered that they were conflicted on whether they would want to attack Dominic or not.
Then, one of the men looked just past Dominic with a look of panic in his eyes. He raised his hands and his mouth seemed to shape the word, “Don't”. Dominic gripped his sword and spun on his feet. The sword was unsheathed at unnatural speeds. The butt of the sword cracked across the scull of the man charging towards him. He fell to the ground, motionless. The group of new people brandishing weapons behind them stopped for only a moment to realize that Dominic had just cracked the man's skull open. A moment later, they charged the Knight. Dominic looked behind him and the men there were also charging now.
He lifted his sword, adjusting his grip as he took his left hand off the weapon to grab a shorter parrying blade from his hip. The first man to approach him was cut down quickly with a cut across the stomach. He swung his sword above and behind his head, deflecting a blow in front while parrying a woodcutter's axe in front of him.
At this moment, he realized that the men he was fighting were not warriors. They were simple folk. Only a few of them had real weapons. He didn't expect many of them to have any real fighting experience. As his sword swung back around to his front, he grabbed it, with his other hand, still holding the parrying blade. He pointed his sword forward, at level and pressed up against his hip, he charged forward. Most men jumped or dived out of the way of his blade's tip. The few that attempted an attack were either met by the tip of his blade or a quick slash across the various parts of their body that they left vulnerable.
At the end of the procession of people was the man with the purple eyes. He held his spadone in a slight variation of the near ward stance. Dominic halted almost instantly in his tracks, only just over a sword's length away from the man. He planted his feet firmly on the cobblestone road and adjusted his own stance. He held his sword with the pommel beside his ear, facing the tip directly at his opponent's face. He leaned very low into his stance, to the point where he was almost shorter than the man he was facing.
Dominic took a quick glance behind him to make sure he was safe from the mob behind him. As it turned out, they were gearing up for their next assault. Dominic couldn't keep himself held up on this single opponent for more than just a single second. Unfortunately, Dominic knew that this man had skill with the sword. He was going to need more than a second to effectively down this opponent.
He lifted his stance slightly, carefully moving in a half circle around to the other side of his opponent. This gave Dominic a clear view of every single fighter on the battlefield, giving himself a higher level of awareness as well as a clear path to run when he had the chance. First, the enlightened man had to die. He sunk into his stance again and waited for his opponent to make the first strike.
It came, as Dominic had expected, sweeping behind himself and up to strike down at Dominic's head. All Dominic had to do was shift his tip of his sword to the left, leaving the two men in a high bind above one another's heads. Dominic stepped forward and forced his opponent's sword down across Dominic's right side. With another step forward, Dominic shoulder checked the man, knocking him a couple of steps back. Dominic took the oprotunity and lunged forward, stabbing the man directly through the neck.
Instantly, the world's sounds boomed back into existence. The man fell with a hard thump. Part of the mob looked in astonishment. It was clear that the man who Dominic had faced was a skilled fighter, probably trained as an officer in the army. The ease at which Dominic was able to take down this man, probably someone who had been training this mob for some time in swordplay, caused the lines of this mob to rout. Dominic wouldn't have bother to chase after them if it weren't for the one man, who was obviously attempting to now take charge after the death of their other commander.
“Forget the Knight!” He shouted. “The men at the Inn will not be able to hold their lines forever. We need to take to the castle while the city guard is still distracted!”
Dominic's eyes widened and he attempted to chase after the mob. His armour didn't allow him the same mobility as the crowd though and he found himself lagging farther and farther behind. He wasn't going to be able to stop this mob, but he continued to pursue them anyway.

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Lazurus was beginning to feel better. He could walk without fearing collapse now, but he still propped himself up against the wall as he walked through the empty halls of the castle. A trail of blood followed his path across the wall. He tried to keep to the less patrolled parts of the castle as best he could, but that was only going to keep him safe for a while. Before turning a corner, he peeked by to see if there was anyone coming. After about the third hall, he started to hear shouts from another part of the castle. The sound of steel also rang through the halls.
Lazurus was unsure of what he was hearing. It left him weary of moving forward, but he had to. There was no chance in turning back now. The guards would find for sure and he'd be thrown into maximum security until the baby was born. He couldn't have that happen. He needed to get the baby back to Blackpond before it was too late. Without Ella's baby, everything would be for naught.
He pressed forward more, listening to the clash of metal on metal and stone. It was getting closer or was he just getting closer to it? He was afraid to find out.
Then, from behind him, he heard shouts. “There she is!” Lazurus slowly turned. He didn't have the energy to fight. He was going to lose this one. “Walden, get her back to her bedchambers and keep posted outside her door. Thanh, go find more guards to post outside the door. I'll join the fight.”
The three men ran their separate ways. Only one guard was was left to bringing him back to the bedroom. Did they know what happened in that room? Had they seen what she did to their guards, their friends? If they did, they would've likely left more than one guard to him.
“Move along.” Walden said, in a cold tone.
Lazurus decidedly didn't fight. He couldn't fight. He barely had the energy to keep from falling over. His escape was over. He had no chance whatsoever of escape now. Lamya wouldn't ever come to his rescue. That is, unless she flipped a coin and it just so happened to land on its side so she decided to do something out of the ordinary that day. Actually, who knew how that woman actually decided anything. It was intriguing to him, but nothing that he really bothered to ever understand.
“Hold on.” Walden said as they reached the end of the hall.
Lazurus stopped and sluggishly turned around. “What's the pr—”
Walden stood before Lazurus, with his sword pressed right up against Ella's protruding stomach. Walden's eyes wild with thought as he stared at the end of his blade.
“Do it.” Lazurus said so quietly that it was nearly inaudible. Walden's eyes softened a little when he did. The pressure of the sword lightened on his stomach. “Come on Walden. Do it. I've always wanted to meet Death. I want to know what she feels like. What she looks like, what she smells like, what she... what she tastes like. Most people run from the idea, but I lured towards it. My life ends soon anyways. I know that, but the closer I get to Her sweet kiss, the closer I get to blowing in anticipation.”
Walden took a step back. The blade was no longer pressing against his surrogate’s skin.
“I said do it!” Lazurus shouted. “I know why you want to do it. Killing the Demon of Newhaven would be seen as heroic in some circles. Even if it did mean sacrificing the Page bloodline. That matters very little. There have been several dynasties to rule over Newhaven in its history. Maybe you could find a ruler fit to rule instead of this indecisive girl you see standing before you. And who's to say that the child is going to be any better a ruler? Maybe, through some brilliant series of events you will end up on the throne. Just end the life of your prince, your queen, and the wretched thing that has sullied her and then who knows? Just do it.”
As his final sentence echoed through the halls, another sound cracked above it. Then a hard thud. Walden collapsed to the ground with a crossbow bolt jutting out of his back. Behind him, a small group of men in a hodgepodge of armour and weapons. They all looked down the hall, past the fallen man, every single one of them straightening up when they saw what was beyond Walden. As more men ran into the hall, they stopped with immediacy at the exact same spot that the rest of the group stood. They were saying things, but Lazurus couldn't make them out at that distance.
Finally, the man with the crossbow started walking towards Lazurus. Lazurus started walking towards the man too, which caused the man to flinch just the slightest. Lazurus, however, stopped at Walden. He bent down and pulled the arrow out. Blood soaked the tip and it slowly dripped down the shaft onto his hand. He moved it towards his face and took a deep breath in. “Have you ever wondered what Death tastes like?” Lazurus said to no one in particular.
“What?” He looked up to see the man with he crossbow right in front of him.
Lazurus dabbed his finger in the blood around the shaft and then placed his finger gently onto his tongue. “I imagine that she tastes like blood. But then, everyone's blood tastes different...”
Lazurus didn't even try to resist. The man with the crossbow tied him up and hoisted him over his shoulders.