The ground was damp under August's feet in the beginning, now however, it was starting to crack from dryness. The miniature ball of flame that he assumed would soon be hurtling towards him was already exerting palpable pressure.
He called upon his weapons in an attempt to defend himself, all of them. He had collected quite the repertoire of armaments in his journey with Alia, and now he was going to put them to use.
Or maybe not?
His weapons after being fired simply passed through the ball of flame, the only one doing anything to slow it down being the glowing blade that was forged from the [White Lion's Legacy].
The blade hit the flames and pushed them back for a single second, but then fell into the grass and lost the valiant glow.
August prepared to make break for it, trying to figure out how fast he could evacuate the area, and if he could even do so.
There was no need.
Before he could run, another figure suddenly stood between him and the blonde man. It was a man covered in a black cloak, the hood of which was down, resting gently on his broader shoulders. .
August saw black dreadlocks that ran to the man's back, put up in a ponytail which revealed the dark skin at the back of his neck.
And suddenly, the miniature sun was gone.
The man had his hands safely secured in the pockets of his cloak, yet still exuded a presence of commanding nature, as if his authority was absolute, and he was confident in that.
The blonde man took a step back, his face frozen, with sweat flowing down past his trembling pupils and agape mouth. The blonde man spoke, his voice quivering as he did so:
"W-why? I did nothing worthy of such a personal response…"
Then August heard another voice, the dark skinned man spoke, asking a simple question.
"You did not?"
His voice was low and rumbling, soft and yet so commanding of respect August nearly began to beg for mercy himself. Silently giving thanks that this was not his adversary, August clutched his friend's body.
'Soon, just hold on, we'll get you some help soon. I promise you that." He thought.
"It's just a backwater city, it doesn't even belong to a king's territory!" The blonde man continued.
The man seemed to have recovered from his initial shock somewhat, at least enough to speak clearly and with conviction.
"And yet, I am here." The man cloaked in black responded.
Hearing it once more, August recognized the accent.
There was one man who lived on his street, a small man from Kenya with whom he had the occasional small chat. This accent matched that man's almost exactly.
The cloaked man heaved a sigh, which somehow managed to make the man seem even larger in scale and presence than he already was.
"Are you aware, of who you so brazenly present your power against?"
The blonde man's eyes fell upon August, then he lowered his head, looking at the ground.
"Forgive me, I did not know he was one of yours."
The cloaked man shook his head and clicked his tongue.
"No, he is not mine. But, he does belong to the wanderer."
The blonde man's head shot up for a second, then he dropped to his knees and gave a deep bow.
"Mercy! The church of the Templar wants no conflict with the kings! I swear it upon my star as bishop."
August couldn't help but feel a bit odd at the blonde man's display, it simply felt exaggerated and out of place to him. It was as if this small patch of land in the middle of unknown territory was suddenly a formal setting.
"I could eradicate you where you stand, but I have decided to exercise mercy. Leave from this place, and do not return." The cloaked man spoke.
The blonde man nodded, and rose to his feet, then disappeared in a bright flash of flame.
And then the cloaked man turned to him.
August stared into the cold gray eyes of his savior and suddenly understood the fear that the blonde man had felt. This man was not simply another person, he was something that August could not yet comprehend, if he ever would.
The cloaked man walked towards him, each subsequent step making August feel as if the ground was shaking under his feet. Instinctively, he found himself taking a step back.
"Your name is August?" The man asked, staring down at him with indifference.
August nodded.
"Good, you are safe." He said, still staying into August's soul with his discerning glare. Slowly, the man's eyes moved down to Alia, who's breath had become almost nonexistent.
The man walked past him and towards the gate, waving his hand and nodding, a single golden ring with a lion's face glimmering on his finger, illuminated by the single star in the night sky.
August was left speechless as the dark skinned man turned to face him once more.
"What are you waiting for?" He asked "the girl does not have long left. "
'Wait…Alia!'
August felt his friend's body growing colder once more, then dashed past the cloaked man and through the limestone gates. He had been so quick to react that he even failed to thank the man that had saved them.
Within a few minutes, Alia was no longer in his arms, being carried away by a small group of guards.
August was finally getting his friend some help, not to mention arriving in a human civilization.
This was the first time he had seen people in over two months, the sheer number of them was almost overwhelming.
As he watch his friend get enveloped in multicolored light, he turned to thank the cloaked man who had saved them from the blonde fanatic.
Only, there was nobody there.
Before August could think any further on the topic, he felt his vision once again become hazy. Suddenly his limbs became weak and flimsy, and he felt darkness creeping up the corners of his vision.
And then, August succumbed to the darkness. The last thing he heard was a man's scream for help, then the world went black.