Chapter 62

The Blooded Sky

“They came swarming over the ramparts, setting the whole world ablaze.”

Coming of the Kindled

Voller stared strangely at the young woman standing in front of him, right on the other side of the desk, her sigil of the City Guard’s quaintly sitting on his desk. Her expression was as elusive as always, her eyes, however, seeming clearer than ever before. She’d just uttered something he was certain he’d misheard, yet deep down knew hadn’t.

“… you… want to leave the City Guards?” he asked.

“Hm.” Asandra nodded.

“To serve as some Dacent’s personal guard?” he continued.

“Hm.” She nodded again.

“… and you weren’t knocked in the head with a real big plank of wood?”

“… no?”

“… what he hell,” Voller sighed, rubbing his temples. “Wasn’t it just a few months ago that you screamed at me for the first time in your life because of Dacents? Rather, that you wanted most of them dead?”

“It was.”

“… have you changed your mind?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Most of them still ought to die.”

“… then what’s different about this one?”

“He doesn’t necessarily need to die.”

“I—”

“I’m wasting my days here, Uncle,” she interrupted him, a rare occasion that Voller stunned for a good second. “You know as well as I that I have no desire to be a lifelong Guard. I’m tired of seeing the worst of this city and not being able to do anything. At least now, by his side, it all might slip my mind long enough for me to get a good night’s sleep.”

“… I’ve no intention of stopping you, Asandra,” Voller said after squarely looking into her eyes, seeing her honesty. “It’s your life. I just feel it’s a shame. At least I had someone I could unquestionably trust there.”

“… you can trust Unmir,” she said. “He may be lazy and appear indifferent, but is the most just of the bunch. It’s just that it takes a lot to get him going.”

“… you’re smart, so you know what you’re doing the best,” he smiled for a moment and got up, walking over and giving her a bear hug. She awkwardly replied, wrapping her arms around his thick waist. “I do hope you’ll still come around for a visit or two, or your old Uncle might get really lonely, you know?”

“… of course,” she said. “I’ll continue doing my best, and I hope you’ll as well.”

“… can’t this old man think of retirement already?” Voller laughed freely as he retreated back into his chair.

“No.”

“… very well,” he nodded with another, warm smile. “Go, then. Spread your wings and fly, as they say. Just remember… no matter what happens, you’ll always have a place to return to, Asandra. Home.”

“… I know,” she flashed him one of her rare, genuine smiles, causing him the joy only fathers could experience – and he did, despite not being a father. “See you, Uncle.”

“…”

Asandra left without turning around, make a beeline across the city toward the Royal Grounds. Though she’d agreed to become his guard just two days ago, the Dacent already had all papers at a ready, and she even received her permit to become a permanent resident of the Royal Grounds this morning. Whatever else he may be, he was still scarily efficient.

She deliberated a long while after returning from his chambers, pondering on her choice. Was it smart? Right? Just? Proper? No matter how much she danced around it, however, in truth, she didn't know. She couldn't know. He'd fed her all the things she wanted to hear, yet not a beat past them. She only realized it once she looked back at their conversation; he confessed with a reason, not because he felt pressured by her attack. He knew he would be able to spin the whole conversation to his liking and have her eating out of his palm. Perhaps, in a way, that was a far scarier side of him than the one that left an ordinary butcher dead and decaying.

After all, there was no shortage of people who could skewer a man in cold blood – if anything, there was an abundance of them that should be culled. Far fewer in numbers, however, were those whose tongues could not be tied, and who could worm their way out and into anything with their words alone. Thanks to Voller’s harsh education, she always considered herself exceptionally clever and critical, which was why she never fell for the hollow and empty words she was fed before. Not until two days ago.

She pondered and pondered on what was different with his approach over the rest, but couldn’t quite pinpoint it; it was all in the small things, she noticed. When he chooses to bring something up, how to deflect and where to deflect, when and how to counterattack… it appeared as though he had a perfect grasp on the mastery of tongue, and could react to almost anything thrown his way.

That was not to say that other Dacents weren’t quick-witted either, but that he seemed almost frigidly calm and confident, as though he knew beforehand the question he was to be asked.

Still lingering in her thoughts, she made her way over to the gates where she saw his relatively tall figure standing on the side, chatting with a couple of guards and laughing. There was nothing, she noticed. Within and without he seemed an ordinary man, one that was even easy enough to like. She took a deep breath and approached him, causing him to bid a farewell to the guards with a beaming smile before walking over to her.

“… everything alright?” he asked.

“Yes.” She nodded, maintaining her indifferent expression. “You didn’t have to come out to welcome me.”

“No, no,” he shook his head. “I have some business in the city, and I was waiting for you to accompany me.”

“Oh?” he set apath immediately after the words left his lips, entering the main street that ran a full, down lane to the gates. Carriages and wagons spread aplenty, surrounded by looming buildings that sometimes formed overhead bridges, connecting two from the opposite sides. “Whereto?”

“Slaver’s market,” he replied. “I’ve some orders to pick up.”

“… you should be careful with them,” she said warily. “To this day we don’t know most of their actual identities.”

“… do I look like the sort to relax myself around slavers?” he rolled his eyes at her, causing her eyebrows to twitch momentarily.

“You do, actually.”

"You're quick to fire up that anger of yours, huh?" he chuckled, taking an alley to the right that led into an abounding loop of streets toward the market.

“… I know you said I should be your personal guard,” she said, matching his pace unconsciously while keeping her strong hand ready at her blade’s handle. “But I doubt very many people will try and attack a Dacent, especially Her Highness’. I might grow sluggish.”

“… I’ll make a new rule for us, to avoid miscommunication,” he said suddenly, surprising her. “As your ‘question’ could be interpreted in many ways, no? So… from now on, whenever we want to say something, say it without implications. Just straightforwardly and honestly.”

“… does that apply only to me or to you as well?”

“Oh my, I did not know ‘we’ and ‘you’ had literally the same meaning. I should brush up on my linguistic skills.”

“… oh, so, when you meant ‘honest’ and ‘straightforward’, you meant being an asshole, right? Sure, I can be an asshole.”

“… there’ll be work for us to do,” he drew a quaint smile as he glanced at her to the side. “I wouldn’t worry about growing sluggish.”

Asandra grew silent as they reached the entrance to the market; as always, people drew full loops around it, avoiding it as far as possible as to not be associated with it in any way, shape, or form. Noah, on the other hand, casually strolled in as though he was walking into his own backyard, drawing a number of gazes of ire toward him that he completely ignored.

He made a straight line through the market, seemingly already knowing where to go, ignoring the inviting and melodic voices of the scantily-clad women in cages on his way over. If nothing else, his willpower not to even glance at them was remarkable, she mused inwardly.

He stopped in front of a simple-seeming ‘stall’, cages lined in a crescent underneath a parasol, with a solitary man outside the cage sitting on an extended chair, dressed in flamboyant clothes. Noah stopped in front, and Asandra followed, both remaining silent for a few moments.

"Oh, boy, it looks like the merchant isn't here today," he said somewhat loudly, drawing a confused glance from Asandra. “Looks like I’ll have to look elsewhere.”

“D-Dear Dacent!” the man in the chair suddenly shot up as though ejected from a cannon, quickly running over. “You jest, you jest; I am right here. Forgive me, my days have been long and my nights short – I’ve little sleep, you see? It is a difficult life, I’m afraid.”

“Then stop leaving brothels drunk and hung at the crack of dawn…”

“Ah, no, no – I’m an honest man, Dear Dacent,” the slaver said, flashing a uniquely merchant-like smile that Asandra found rather anger-inducing. “I’ve a family, and though I love them all, being woken by three babes in the dead of the night… can drain even the strongest of men, I’m afraid.”

“… ah, were you expecting to wring me dry because you thought I’d for some reason care that you have three kids?” Noah flashed him a similar, merchant-like smile, yet rather than anger, Asandra felt a sense of vindication – someone who could match the low-wrung souls in their capacity not to care.

“… I—ah… I’m still short of matching you, it seems,” the slaver chuckled rather innocently, scratching the top of his head. “You are here for the slaves, right?”

“Hm,” Noah nodded. “Did you get them all?”

“Yes,” Q’sal said, withdrawing underneath the parasol. “One that can fight, one that can run, and one that can fuck. Right?”

“Yes.” Noah barely managed to contain the twitch of his eyebrows, feeling the Asandra’s scorching eyes looking at him from the side. “It’s not for me…”

“Ahmm…”

“I swear…”

“Said every man who ever purchased a sex slave…”

“It’s for business…”

“Business of having sex with a sex slave?”

“… you have to trust me…” Noah sighed, still looking straight.

“I’m not one of your slaves so I don’t.” Asandra replied; in truth, she believed him, but she found it somewhat fun to fire back at him.

“Here they are,” Q’sal came strolling from underneath the parasol, three people in tow – two men and a woman, bound in chains. “As promised, twenty-five crowns for all three.”

“…” Noah nodded and tossed a small satchel at him as the latter gave him the parchments with their identities – Row, Fylcon, and Reya.

Row was the tallest of the bunch, towering even over Noah himself, with a broad build and a bald head. A pair of blue, somewhat dumb-looking, and honest eyes hardly inspired confidence in Noah, but he had to reserve his judgment as his history mentioned that he used to be a General of the Freemen Kingdom's Army.

Fylcon stood beside him, a full four heads shorter, appearing a child next to a giant, sporting a pair of black eyes and short, black hair. He was lean and fidgety, glancing from Noah to Asandra, the look in his eyes exceptionally different when they landed on her, something Noah noted and smiled inwardly over.

Reya was the only woman of the bunch, standing to the far right, her scorching, twilight-colored eyes having never left his body. The few pieces of cloth she wore barely covered the most important parts of her body, revealing a slender and almost-chiseled figure with wide and full chest, and a pair of long, well-defined legs. She had long, wavy, brown hair, and, at least from Noah’s immediate judgment, was what Myrell thought herself to be before meeting Noah.

Just then, as he was about to introduce himself, the earth shook violently, causing the four out of six to topple to their feet and backs – with only Noah and Row remaining afoot, the latter looking on curiously, while the former frowned. It wasn't a natural earthquake, at least he didn't think; the shaking was too violent and chaotic, with no seeming pattern.

A dull explosion echoed out in the distance, causing Noah to look south-east, where he saw a spray of flaming red paint the sky in an array of crimson colors.

Asandra awkwardly climbed to her feet, feeling somewhat embarrassed as she took a stealthy glance at Noah whose eyes completely ignored her, focused on the sky – she shifted her attention and saw it, the sky almost like a canvas, being painted in blazing red. Her lips parted in a faint shock, her eyes glistening. Beyond knowing what it meant, a new sensation swelled inside of her – something strange, alien, unknown. Terrifying.

“… t-the Fire… is already here?!!” Q’sal cried out in panic, causing both Noah and Asandra to wake from their individual stupors.

“Let’s go,” Noah said calmly, glancing at Fylcon and Reya who were barely managing to stand on their feet. “Asandra, you help the woman, I’ll carry the boy. Row, you follow us behind, alright?” the giant nodded in understanding as Noah walked over to the young boy, whose papers said he was nineteen. He appeared somewhat apprehensive over his decision, causing Noah to flash him a grin of understanding, flustering the boy. Just then, Noah casually picked him up with one arm and threw him over his shoulder, causing the boy to cry out in surprise. Damn, he’s light! What the hell?! He’s not even one-fifty pounds, I don’t think…

On the other hand, Asandra, just as easily, swung the woman into her arms, upfront, however, rather than over her shoulder. Reya appeared surprised for a moment, flashing a strange grin at Asandra who merely glanced at her in confusion before continuing to ignore her.

Noah walked upfront, with Asandra just a few steps behind him, and Row a few more behind her. As he suspected, the city had already turned panicked, with cries and shouts growing louder and louder the closer to the market’s exit they approached. His mind, however, was onto something else – he felt something, when he looked at the sky, and even when he saw Asandra looking at the sky. The lumps of Dark inside of him seemed to resonate, like a person seeing a relative they like after many years of separation. He didn't quite know what to make of it and felt another dangerous idea slowly swelling in his mind that he desperately tried to suppress. Nope, nope… they have guards, knights, armies, whatever, they can take care of it. No need for me to intervene… no need at all… no need at all…