Oscar's gaze shifted from his front to his back. He knew the voice came from behind him, so he was watching to avoid being attacked. If he fell, the other two could easily lose their calm or worse. After all, Oscar has been channeling a calming Art since they were in the great hall.

Valence kept his weapon steady, preparing to fight with a swordsman Art from the Aurum techniques. Perhaps that could keep him alive.

Mona was thinking of possible situations. Robbers? Thieves? Or the Alberdan Army? He couldn't decide. His trepidation only grew with each passing moment.

But they couldn't wait. With each second, the steps grew closer from each direction. They were surrounded on all sides, and none of them knew a ground traversal Art nor a flying Art.

The moonlight gave enough light to see into the distance. After several minutes, Mona and the others found themselves surrounded by Alberdan soldiers.

Unlike the soldiers they saw back in the great hall, the men in front of them wore a different attire, although the colors were more transparent. Their clothing had elasticity, and fitted their bodies, yet had no signs of armor. Clearly the suits were made only for camouflage, yet various shapes on their clothing gave the notion of hidden weapons.

The trio's gazes rested on the bulkiest figure, the one that called out Krag. His figure was short, yet round. His figure bulged at the stomach, and the clothes clearly stretched to fit his figure. Somehow he managed to walk freely carrying his enormous weight. his eyes flitted back and forth across the three, blank and dull. It seemed he lacked some intelligence.

"Our leader Krag wants your treasure. If you give it, he'll guarantee you a chance to live as a war captive, given you cripple your own talent." A figure moved among the rest, his body lean and tall. His right arm held a thin gauntlet, ancient and covered with signs of wear. Clearly he was negotiating for the dumb-witted giant in front of them.

Mona's gaze shifted from the hooded fellows to the scroll in Oscar's hands. Can Oscar make it in time? He wasn't sure if the time left to activate the spell was satisfied.

Oscar's hands glowed in the dark. His face harshly fell at the sight of this arrangement. He knew how long it would take to escape. Sadly there wasn't enough time to get them away safely.

"Of course, if you would rather dig your own graves, then continue channeling Aura. We received word of your escape just moments ago. It makes no difference how you come back with us." His voice dispersed among the masses inching ever closer to the three.

Valence's weapon began to shine. His sword Art was ready to be used, but he wasn't sure if he could even make a scratch, let alone kill one of the fellows surrounding them. Several of the foes sported daggers in both hands. Their edges had a slight tinge if green, signs of a corrosive poison.

"Do we fight?" Valence whispered towards Oscar, whose Aura had been greatly diminished since he began charging the teleportation device. Valence paid no attention to Mona. Mortals were no more than cannon fodder in a battle between Auras.

'Krag getting tired." The stout fellow stretched his arms, or rather raised his arms into the air. In his hands, an Aura was charged, purple and illusory. Quickly two metallic orbs appeared in his hand, barely visible in the moonlight. Whistling was heard by all in his presence.

Oscar's gaze turned back to Mona, his mind remembering Signorus. The scroll in his hands was nearly complete to be used, but could he ensure the two members of the Aurum family make it out safe and sound?

The wind blew in the darkness of the night. Clouds in the sky moved, arcing across the moon, concealing it partially. Visibility was reduced, and Mona could no longer see the the rising smoking ushering out of the Aurum manor. Instead, the sounds of marching soldiers came ever closer.

Reinforcements! Valence pulled out another sword, preparing to dual wield. His hands trembled as his Aura was split among the two blades. Clearly his skill was limited to one-handed combat.

Oscar's tome disappeared out of thin air. He was conserving his Aura to a minimum, his body preparing to grab the two youngsters near him and activate the scroll simultaneously.

The sounds of soldiers was growing ever closer. The Alberdan war flag was in the air, flying in the wind.

Oscar's body jolted into existence. His voice was sharp and deliberate, activating the scroll. The old parchment transformed into a floating sigil, its light resembling a lantern in the darkness. Oscar's dashed towards Valence, his remaining Aura wrapping Valence like a cocoon.

The two orbs in Krag's hands flew, detonating on impact with the Aura shielding, breaking through. Blood oozed slowly from Oscar's mouth, the recoil had injured him.

The sigil flashed once, its glint shining in the eyes of the opposite party. By now the various figures dashed towards the trio. Their arms were held in offensive stances, the assassins sprinted towards Oscar and Mona.

"First the scroll. Then capture." The vice leader's voice echoed above the assassins. The quickest reached Oscar in a few seconds. They separated Mona from the others, to Oscar's dismay.

No! Oscar's breath grew ragged. Mona was separated from the rest of them, a mere mortal against several Warrior leveled assassins. There was no escape for him. The sigil blinked three times in succession. In three seconds, Oscar and Valence disappeared, their gazes locked on the figure surrounded in the sea of Alberdan assassins.

Mona watched as his ray of hope disappeared. His emotions had not swayed, only his thoughts. The cloak....where did it go? His hands felt along his robes, only to find his ceremonial cloak missing.

The figures surrounding him stared greedily at his robes. Such fine clothing could fetch a better price than its wearer as a slave.

*****

The moon disappeared behind a thick layer of clouds, it's light no longer shining over the standoff. Instead, the sight of Alberdan soldiers guiding captives was present.

Each was chained, hand to hand, foot to foot. Their faces dreary, their homeland in the background reduced to moldering ruins.

In one group of slaves were what was left of the Autumn manor. Servant and noble went together into narrow carts towards the Alberdos Kingdom.

In one of these carts, chained in the corner was a sickly figure whose eyes gleamed in the darkness. His body was covered in bruises, his countenance firm. The newly enslaved took glances at him, either pitying his presence or shocked at the pressure he gave off.

His eyes turned to the only window in the claustrophobic and cramped box that was now home for three months. His eyes softened with the moon, the rays caressing his face through the small inlet.

His face gave no hints to his surging thoughts, thoughts worthy of death by guillotine at his destination. His name was Mona Aurum, the former noble of the fallen Leafwind Kingdom.

And today, he had solidified his vow of life or death.