B2 Ch. 57 Taken

Aurelia Level 28 Priestess of Origin’s Flame

She squirmed pitifully, barely able to breathe under the pile of fabrics.   The cloth wrapped around her and the gag shoved into her mouth seemed to tighten every time she shifted.  Tears leaked from her eyes as she moaned again and again trying to call for help.   The whining grind of the wheel drowned out her ability to hear anything beyond her smothering torture.

She had been at the bottom of the cart for what felt like hours, bumping along over an uneven path when they finally came to a stop.  The indistinct mutterings became clear as the grinding wheel hub ceased and she heard a cruel voice issuing commands.  Wherever she was, her captors were no longer concerned about being discovered.

The terror constricting her heart slowly clenched down further, robbing her of what little breath she had. A crash sounded off to the side, and then silence reined amongst her kidnappers lasting the space of a few dousen shallow breaths through her nose, the smell of her terror filling her senses.

In desperation, she reached for her mana.  Without her voice, she could not activate any of her Class Abilities but at this point, she needed something, anything to distract from the indistinct voices outside of her prison deciding her fate. She dived into her center, focusing on the Flame and somehow shoving all her panic into its burning heart.  

The cruel voice started up again, this time answered by a nasally one.  The words were infuriatingly just beyond her ability to make out under all the layers of intervening material, so she kept focusing on feeding her Flame. 

They needed her for something or else they would have already killed her.  She refused to be a tool in the enemy's hands, she would not fail everyone like that.  She continued to shove all of her feelings into the flame.  Helplessness, impotent anger, and naked terror were all consumed, as the mana-generating entity at her center grew hotter and hotter. 

She did not know what it was accomplishing, but anything was better than being helpless.  Shortly after the voices began speaking, the materials above her were pulled away, revealing a leering dirty face.  The leer became a choking gag as the man yanked her into a sitting position, loosening the cloth that had bound her, but keeping her gag intact. 

She was yanked to her feet, out of the cart and a knife was shoved up under her throat nicking the skin.  She felt a dribble of blood trickle down her neck, joining the cold sweat that covered her body. 

Finally out of the cart, her attention was quickly drawn to the others crowding the small forest path.  There was a man in crumpled officials garp, flanked by two Watchmen.  His face screwed up in outrage at the sight of her, and hope bloomed in her chest.

“What is this? She is barely more than a child!”  The official snarled.  The guards on either side of him drew their weapons.

“Now, now.”  The cold voice growled to her right. She peered over at him, trying to not disturb the knife at her throat, and saw a figure draped in many layers of grimy, dark clothes.

“Do not be so hasty to dismiss our salvation. Sometimes, to protect one's people, a leader must do distasteful things… You have been lied to and used, just like the people you supposedly serve.”  The voice answered smoothly.  An incredible feeling of foreboding radiated off the figure, and Aurelia had to suppress a shiver at its proximity.  

The knife at her throat wiggled painfully as its holder wretched, vomiting to the side.

“Distasteful!?  This is the path forward you spoke of?  This is nothing!  Now let her go or I will be forced to take drastic action.”  The official whined, his voice quavering. 

The robed man chucked and gestured.  At the signal, men stood up from the surrounding forest, all clutching weapons, “Perhaps the presence of your men has emboldened you irrationally… I will help you with that.”

“Now!” The official screamed.

A flurry of motion rocked the night as weapons clashed and grunts of effort erupted before Aurelia. She tried not to flinch as the Watchemen were both overwhelmed, taking down several of her captors in the process. 

The official backed away from the melee, looking desperately behind him, but out of the shadows only emerged two more thugs, wielding knives dripping with dark liquid.

“Let me ask you again.  Will you do what is necessary to ensure the survival of your people?  One death will prevent tens of thousands.  Be a man and do what you must to save your constituents!”  The robed man challenged.

The official swallowed, looking at the Aurelia again, weighing his options. Hope died in her chest as the Flame struggled to hold back the tide of despair at the sight of her would-be rescuers cut down.  The Official licked his lips, eyes darting between her gagged form and the rest of her captors who still outnumbered him eight to one…

“Why are you doing this?  Why me?”  He blurted.

“I represent the interests of the opposition. We are not at all what you have been told.  You simply have to prove your sincerity with this small task, and when our forces take the city in a matter of hours, you will be spared.”

At those words, something in the Officail’s gaze shifted, hardening, and his eyes settled heavily back on the robbed man. 

“Ah. Earlier you mentioned saving the whole camp. Now you specify me…”

The robbed spread his arms in a theatrical gesture, “Take hold of your Salvation!”  He declared magnanimously, urging the man before him.

The official sighed, reaching into his robes, and pulled out something that looked like a letter opener, “Very well, where must it be done.”

The robbed figure laughed richly and the thugs around the official relaxed, “We will head up to the temple and finish this unfortunate task there.”  The robed man answered, lowering his arms.  Aurelia quailed at the turn of events but saw the moment that the official’s hand clenched down on the handle of his pitiful weapon.  Eyes shining with unshed tears, he lurched into the nearest thug, plunging his letter opener into their neck. The thug screamed, spurting blood all over the shocked face of his attacker, and the others fell on him stabbing and bludgeoning until all that remained was a bloody pile of ruined clothing and bruised flesh

“A pity… I thought for sure he would be our best option for desecrating the Temple.”  The robed man sighed in disappointment, before turning to Aurelia and letting his hood fall back, revealing his horrifying visage. 

Something that might once have been a distinguished elderly satyr face looked back at her.  Yet the strong angles of his sneering face were intersected by thick, dark roots, that dived into the flesh of his jaw and scalp in a seemingly random pattern.  Some, more stable form of Corruption had rooted itself in the man, and it was terrifying. 

“Nonetheless, the Seed assures me that your blood, spilled in the sanctuary will be enough to cut off the Flame’s influence for now.  We can find another innocent to pervert its power later…”  He continued. 

Aurelia bit back a moan of terror even as the Flame within her blazed in resistance to the mind-numbing terror. 

“Man, you guys are really stinking up this mountain!” A high-pitched voice called from slightly down the path. The whole group turned in surprise to see a comically small figure casually step out from the forest. 

“You know there is a river right next to camp?  No charge or anything,”  he called, stepping into the moonlight. His voice warbled in false bravado, and his hands shook as he clenched something in both his fists. 

‘Oh Origin… It’s Cog!’ Aurelia thought desperately, her teeth clenching on her gag. 

“Who are you, little boy? And how did you find us?”  The Corrupted satyr hissed unconcerned.  The thugs all raised their weapons and began to move toward him. 

“Not so fast, Stink Gang, or whatever you call yourselves!” He sputtered, raising his fist dangerously.  He was terrified, yet the absolute impossibility of this confrontation made the thugs hesitate at his threat.

“I have two fist-fulls of Gnomish Explosives right here, ready for anyone who wants to take them.  Now, Give. Me. Back. My. Sister!” He finished with a shout, actually stepping forward with his threat.  Aurelia’s insides twisted in fear for him even as his words bolstered the Flame in her chest to an inferno. 

“You idiots! This child is bluffing. Kill him and then search for any other rats hidden on this Pit Cursed mountain!”  The robed figure called.

“Have it your way!” Cog shouted back, lobbing the contents of his fists at the oncoming thugs. Cog immediately dived away, his motions causing the rush of individuals to flinch as the small objects Cog had thrown scattered before them.  

Everyone stared down at the point of impact confused, when a disorienting series of flashes and bangs exploded from the ground,  one after another in a rapid staccato of light and sound.  The thugs screamed, and even Aurelia had to blink back tears as her vision was filled with the afterimages.  

The knife at her throat suddenly vanished, and she heard the man behind her cursing vehemently. 

“Kill the boy!”  The robed figure screeched in frustration. 

The blazing stars faded from her sight, as she slowly reached to remove the gag from her mouth, not wanting to alert anyone with a sudden movement. The cursing behind her suddenly ceased, and her hand froze, hovering above her gag…

Had he seen her?

Then the flame within her roared over her fear, and she realized she would rather be stabbed in the back than used in this plow to destroy her people. In one motion, she yanked the wadded cloth from her mouth and whipped her head around, ready to ward off the blow she knew must be coming. 

But it didn't. Instead, she found a scared-looking young minotauress standing over an unconscious satyr. 

“Milas?”  She whispered, her voice horse and dry.  The girl looked up and then both of their heads shot back toward the group of thugs, who had caught Cog who struggled uselessly as a scream of defiance echoed up the mountain. They began pounding into his little body with punches and kicks, punishing him for his impudence. 

The incredibly brave girl behind her moaned in fear, but the sight did something altogether different inside of Aurelia.  Her flame, already blazing in defiance, exploded from within her. One of the thugs tired of the game and pulled back his knife to end it. 

Something broke. 

Her limits, her place in this world, her self-doubt… They all shattered.

“Get away from my BROTHER!”   she screamed, as the forest around her began to dance with a blue and white light. 

Her words thrummed with power, and a new Ability lit up her Mana Pathways as she instinctively reached for something… anything to save him. 

…

Jonathan Tillman Level 35 Son of Flame

Amelia’s weight had shifted more and more onto his shoulder’s as they moved through the camp at a hobbling jog.  To make matters worse, greenery kept sprouting all over her form, adding even more weight to the awkward movement. 

But Tilly shouldered it all, listening to each gasping breath eliciting from Amelia's mouth with mounting worry.  By the time they started climbing the mountain she had lost the ability to walk, sucking in air desperately as she tried to lift her feet so they would not drag, slowing them further.

With a grunt of exertion, Tilly squatted down and threw her body across his shoulders, straightening up and picking up the pace. Amelia groaned, whether in pain or protest, Tilly could not tell, but seeing the vines grow to completely cover her face had done it for him. 

He somehow pushed his jog to a sprint, squeezing everything he could out of his new Stats as his patchwork of injuries and Debuffs did their best to tear apart his only recently restored body. 

Thankfully the moon was bright enough that even well into the night, he could make his way up the well-worn path without much trouble.  He pumped his legs over and over, sucking in as much breath as his cramping torso would allow. 

Bang, Bang, Bang, 

Bang, 

Bang, Bang, Bang, Bang, Bang! 

Tilly almost tripped at the sudden interruption to his cadence, as a staccato of small explosions sounded further up the path…

‘No way this is anything but more bad news.’

He growled down at his legs, urging his thrusting knees to increase their pace even further.

“Get away from my BROTHER!” A screaming voice demanded from above.

As Tilly ran up the path, little figures stood up in the forest to either side.  He almost dropped Amelia and grabbed his weapons, before realizing they were all children…

The kids Edna and George were taking care of.  

That’s when the voice fell into place in his memory, and he really did drop Amelia.  He called his hatchets to his hands as his run became an all-out sprint, blue flames lighting up the forest ahead of him.