Alphonse strode forth swiftly to the docks where he could appoint himself to a ship and sail down the River Ryl. From there he planned to make a stay in some foreign mountains outside the Kingdom of Aspelion.
The sun was still up and burning, meaning that there ought to be at least one boat ready to sail within the docks.
As Alphonse was steadily making his way over, a group of guards to his right called for him.
"Oi, Masked man."
He trod over cautiously afraid to let his cover slip.
"May I assist you in any way?"
The guards, coated in slim chainmail and weary leather chortled lightly.
"Just drop the mask, we've gotta do this to every tenth person now."
One of the guards pulled up Alphonse's bounty page.
Alphonse gulped.
"Well you see, it's actually a cursed mask, I cannot take it off no matter how hard I try."
The guards sighed and awed in pity.
"Ah well have a good one."
Alphonse would've been fine with just that but he just had to take it the extra step.
"Ah... How I wish I could lose this accursed mask."
Plop.
The mask fell right off.
Two images correlated on paper and in reality.
The guards' eyes widened.
A twisted moment of awkwardness.
Alphonse ran before they could get another look.
The guards were silent for a moment before they were animated in a way.
"Call the Griff Squad, we've got a sighting on the Kingslayer."
One of the men crushed a ruby into his hand, his eyes trembling.
The men didn't dare to pursue the Kingslayer, that was a job fit for the Elites of Aspelion.
Still, the boils on the men inflated.
"Was that really the Kingslayer? For him to be so timid and shrewd? There must be a mistake. It could just be a lookalike and the hair doesn't match nor the eyes..."
One of the guards slapped him on the back.
"Nay. He must've changed his appearance through witchcraft, why else would he be hiding behind a mask in broad daylight? In Fact..."
The guard dropped down and came up with the mask.
"I reckon this is quite the keep."
The head of the guards sighed, his wrinkles deepening.
"You lot do you. I'm going to the Watchtower."
Alphonse stopped running as he reached the docks. His hands groped all over himself as he panted lightly.
He muttered in distress.
"There's no way they saw my face. And my hair's different too. And the eyes. I'm sure it was just a flicker of a moment."
"Yeah... A flicker of a moment."
A beacon of spiritual white light rose above the clouds to the right of Alphonse. Before dimming intensely.
It was named Celestial, an ancient mechanical relic that could apparate beings to its brethren's relics and vice versa.
Alphonse sighed.
"Why the hell are they using the ancient teleportation rituals in broad daylight? A bit of conspiracy wouldn't hurt..."
Alphonse counted his last dimes. He had exactly 12 silver. Enough for a sustainable supply of food and water but not enough for equipment and long travel.
Alphonse had set his hood over his head in an attempt to shadow his identity even further.
Soon, the air became moister, and shouts and yabbers became unmuffled.
Alphonse was in the docking area.
The journey down the River Ryl would be an awkward one.
Ships had to single-file down a slim river right next to pathways on either side.
One could probably walk the journey faster but that would of course be less efficient.
Alphonse counted his luck, there was one boat set to leave very swiftly.
Just as Alphonse counted his silver one more time, a screech crashed from the heavens above.
"CAWWW."
Alphonse's entire body shifted and twisted from cruel instincts.
He knew that sound, it was all that had bombarded his ears as he slayed the King.
It was the sound of a royal Griffon.
And true to his mind, above him swooped a Royal Griffon, armed with a blue-robed mage, a flyer, and a bowman. All unsteadily looking out peskily.
Its feathers were as sharp as steel, its eyes were diligent enough to whisk away tadpoles. It was covered in some greasy white liquid fit to make it more streamlined and it looked like a divulgence of gray.
The archer had an arrow notched on his bowstrings and a hand ready to pluck.
The mage had no visible face, but he was chanting strange murmurs.
Alphonse kept his head under his hood and steadily made his way onto the ship.
It cost him 8 silvers but it included food and residency.
His eyes darted upwards from the rocking ship that he stood aboard and he briefly made eye contact with the prideful griffon
"It's all good."
He told himself in relief.
"Just one of the new patrol squads..."
There was quite a crowd gathered on the boat which had just set to sail. It rocked warily and water gurgled in its wake.
Alphonse noticed a multitude of ages gathered from children to the Elderly.
The boat finally picked up some speed and it seemed like they would finally be able to get going.
But just as the boat stopped rocking and started wading through the water calmly, the caw of the King came from behind and above once more.
"CAWWWW."
Alphonse looked up in irritation.
"Goddamn bird-."
A voice overruled his own.
"BOURBANOS."
The mage let out an unholy yell.
Alphonse stuttered as he saw a huge vibrant world of flames crashing down onto the boat, in the form of an explosive wild fireball.
Alphonse let his mind and heart carry him through the moment like a zip wire and before he knew it he had pulled his right arm back. His sword unsheathed and Alphonse knew he didn't have enough momentum or power to split the fireball into two.
With the world flowing through his core, Alphonse let the silver blade rip.
It burst from his hand like it had a life of its own and made contact with the aerial fireball of madness.
The moment the two forces touched, the fireball ignited, glowing to unheavenly light frequencies and becoming more so explosive than ever before. It looked like it was raring to blow.
Like a firework in the night, the fireball imploded, releasing embers and hellfire all over the ship. A deafening boom rang out and ruptured the earbuds of all within close range.
The silver blade remained undamaged but was blasted away from the recoil, landing in the river behind it with a subtle splash and a rush of fizzing bubbles.
Most of the flames landed outside the ship and those that fell straight down were consumed by the wooden ship's fire-absorption enchantment.
Alphonse let out a breath of relief before looking up with an irk on his face.
The griffon and its controllers confirmed that the Kingslayer had indeed boarded the ship and before Alphonse knew a thing, several notched arrows came his way, slitting through the air between them.
Alphonse held his right hand out.
The wind parted, and a strange sound emerged and vibrated before something about the surroundings seemed to scream danger.
Shing.
A shining gleam zipped through the air flawlessly.
The silver blade, though its rare metals had been moistened and wetted by the river water, was still in top condition.
The fleet of arrows diving towards Alphonse met with unstained steel and were cleanly and effortlessly waved away by Alphonse's sword swings.
The griffon swooped over the ship releasing several unholy ravenous screeches.
"CAWW."
"CAWWW."
"CAWW."
Children cowered and adults fleed upon merely a glimpse of the Royal griffon.
Alphonse furrowed his brows as he noticed the mage doing more insufferable murmurs. Soon another spell of calamity would fall upon himself and the innocents alongside him.
The archer subtly notched an arrow as the griffon flyer pulled at its tight leather holdings.
The griffon swooped down majestically, the archer pulled the bowstring till his fingers went pale and numb.
The mage finished his chants.
"TYROVIAUS."
Another rippling yell burst out.
Like an act of nature, a huge wave of monstrous blue rose from the waters in front of the ship, threatening to devour it whole. The face of a demon shifted through the wave.
Alphonse held his blade with two hands.
His voice finally went hard and serious.
"Blade Art: Splitting Wind."
As his blade tore through the air and moved from left to right in the timespan of a blink, a golden mystical rift formed, affecting the entirety of the tidal wave that was proudly condemning the ship that Alphonse stood upon.
Boom.
The crashing torrents parted as they had been severed cleanly, the top half of the wave left its lower brethren behind as it flew over the ship before falling and crashing. The blue water soaked the ship docks upon landing and wept as it slowly lowered and sunk into the wooden floorboards.
Its lower half returned and mixed with the river's natural water and acted as though it had never been manipulated in the first place.
Alphonse panted with his sword still locked in place.
Twang.
The glorious Griffon swooped by, the archer sneakily slipped his arrow from its hold.
Blood splatted onto the floorboards of the ship.
The griffon shot up into the air, retreating to the skies.
Alphonse, stuck in place could only grit his teeth as he felt pangs of pain viciously buzzing from his left shoulder. There lay a detested arrow stuck deep into his flesh. Blood had already started to seep through the white leather.
The silhouette of the griffon burned in his eyes through the exorcizing sun.
"I will...reach you."
He yanked the arrow fight out of his left shoulder flinching as he bandaged it swiftly with some pocketed old white sheets.
"Bastards..."