They were three people.
Leonel carried the fevered Anderina on his back. She was like a furnace, radiating too much heat and made him sweat as he wove through the back roads.
The town had devolved into chaos. Doors were barred shut. Shouts sounded and cityguards laid dead in their forest green uniforms. Leonel saw the discarded weapons that rested by their hands.
Where did those even come from?
But he had no chance to ponder the thought further and focused on getting out of Fauster. Smoke was rising and Illysa at his heel.
"Wait!" he hissed and put out an arm to stop her before they barreled out over the bend. The streets they chose to travel were narrow, and wound around the main path; lengthening their journey to safety but it was a necessary precaution.
A guard shouted as he backed up in the road ahead, the barrel of the strange Blueiron weapon pointed forward as projectiles rained from the muzzle.
"Die you fucking monster! Get out of our city, you're not welcomed here!"
The Inquisitor's blue coat fluttered against the wind, dotting with holes. But no matter the injuries he suffered, the man swung his Witch Slayer forth, the war hammer coming down with the cityguard's death cry.
This Inquisitor had blood leaking out of his body and red in his eyes. But even as he lumped over, dragging in a long breath, his gaze was steady. Leonel was acquainted with many fervent zealots as such.
Luckily, they were short-lived, rushing into the fray without any concern for self preservation. This man would not last the day, Leonel reckoned.
They waited for him to move out of the way before marching forward.
Illysa panted after him, her eyes veering around for any signs of danger. But it made it so that she sometimes had difficulties following after her guide, losing him around the bend.
"L-Leonel?" she called. A mistake, for she had summoned the attention of a nearby guard instead.
The young teenager was horrified to find that the footsteps she heard in the adjacent alley was not those of Leonel's but of a cityguard instead.
The officer's eyes went wide at the sight of her. It took her a brief moment for realization to settle; this was the innate mage that sprung the terrible state of the city in the first place! If it hadn't been for her then none of this would have happened.
Surprise melted into hatred, the cityguard raised her Blueiron weapon, the muzzle of the contraption pointed at Illysa.
"This all happened because of you, you stupid little bitch!"
Illysa's eyes instinctively closed, shutting out the outpour of golden light. She raised her arm protectively for the pain that never came.
A moment, two. And a shout, the something or something being crushed and wetness. When Illysa opened her eyes she saw that the cityguard had been cleaved from the shoulder to almost as far at the hip. The vivid sight seared into her mind and she was sick with nausea.
Leonel yanked out his Witch Slayer. The cityguard's body fell down with a wet thump.
"W-Where's…Anderina…?" Illysa's golden eyes were wide and her voice came out trembling.
Leonel was staring at the teenager with an unreadable expression. The golden swirl of power was bright and terrible, almost engulfing the entire span of her irises. One day they might permanently shine gold. King Amari's had. Leonel used to have nightmares about those eyes.
Her questioning expression soon turned into panicked worry. Leonel finally drew away and said, "Stop worrying."
He turned back and went to Anderina who he had temporary left slumped against the alley wall and once again scooped her up onto his back.
They continued on.
…
Julian strolled around the house, bored out of his mind.
He began inspecting the fallen corpse, trying to unravel its secrets with nothing else to do.
Mana had gathered in the house and Julian might have forgotten to remind Leonel to disperse it before he left.
Too late now.
With the hounds drawing nearer it was only a matter of time he was discovered.
Julian absently walked to the back entrance; the one which they had come in through. He traced the grains of splintered wood, wondering if he should caste a barrier. There were still three more pills in his pocket but Julian doubted his body could bear even two.
Hm. Nah, he thought. He would wait here for his doom.
Julian walked into the narrow living space and settled down on the armchair. His eye lids closed, unconcerned and relaxed. So lulled was he in the blaring chaos that surrounded the city that he found himself drifting off to sleep.
An unknown time elapsed. Julian opened his eyes. The door burst open, a boot kicking its way inside. There was a cacophony of dogs. Julian hated mutts. They barreled into the house, investigating the rotting scent that permeated. But these hounds were trained to track down mana and not corpses.
It wasn't long before the beasts were about his feet, barking, nipping and making sure that Julian wasn't going to leave that corner of the room.
Ah, how troublesome.
An Inquisitor was entering after the beasts. A woman with hair like vermilion flames. Julian slowly rose from his seat with the support of a walking stick. He leaned against it heavily as he calmly fished through the contents of his pockets.
There was a calm smile about his face, welcoming the woman that had come to join him.
"I am Inquisitor Nathaire," the woman introduced herself with a lyrical voice. "You will surrender the girl to me and face rightful judgement."
"I've never been terribly fond of those who act as the Divine Light's mouthpiece," Julian hummed, "Do you even realize how boring and repetitive you sound? Utterly predictable."
The woman called Nathaire ignored him and pointed her Witch Slayer spear right in his direction. That probably wasn't good. "You have yet a chance to be saved. Please consider your choices."
"Let's see. You're giving me the choice death…and death! Wonderful. Please let me know if you have anyone that have chosen repentance because I would love to know!" Julian barked with laughter.
The Inquisitor was unperturbed. She was without any doubt or question. "The Divine Light welcomes all souls with mercy and acceptance. Stripped to our barest essence, we are all the same."
Julian rolled his eyes so hard that they threatened to travel into the back of his skull. He clicked his tongue, unimpressed. "Ah, so the Divine Light sees us all as equals but only slaughters mages indiscriminately. Tell me, why are you people so adverse to progress?"
"There is no progress in the shambles of purgatory."
"...Truly, you are some of the most boring and idiotic people I've met. Forget compromise, you are not even one to listen to any form of logic or argument!"
"I see. So you do not wish to listen to reason." Nathaire hummed, as though she hadn't heard a single thing that Julian had said! Ah, these fanatics sure were absurd. Julian did not mind people that had opinions differing from his own. He did not mind that others criticized him or hated him for their own reasoning but… the Divine Light was something else that he just couldn't get behind! Did they not realize how their very own doctrine was full of blatant hypocrisy? Ridiculous.
Julian hadn't the time to say anything else. The blackened spear tip was thrust toward him at lightning speed. He cursed, dropped down and rolled out of the way, raising his cane to parry an attack that followed up. Julian slipped the blue pill past his lips as he rolled out of the way.
Though he was disabled, Julian's reaction speed was enough to match. It wouldn't keep him alive for long. But maybe long enough…
He couldn't risk climbing to his feet right away and took the chair next to him and threw it in her way. His entire body was soon assaulted by that wave of pain and nausea but it was just the consequence for consuming power.
Soon, he just had to wait a little bit more.
Another jab, Nathaire stabbed a hole right through the chair, missing Julian by mere milimeters.
Just a little more!
Julian stumbled backward and the Witch Slayer chased him. Nathaire jumped over the fallen chair.