Chapter 7 - The Flaming Fists - Part 2
The scene had unfolded in an unexpected way. Ascalon was still in a daze, his heart split in two as he struggled to regain his senses. His last battle, all that he had endured, the pain and cruel memories—everything came rushing back at the most inopportune moment, triggered by the abrupt event before him.
But while he wavered, shutting himself out from the outside world, one of his companions still stood in defiance. “Why…?” Selorien asked once again, his anger being kept in check solely by the presence before him.
In fact, he could not even take another step, not when she had intervened.
Escarlata—that was the name of the woman in the sophisticated, servant attire. She was one of the ‘maids’ currently serving his family, the L’adariel bloodline, and she was clearly blocking his path. Also, despite her appearance, to Selorien she was probably the strongest and most dangerous individual in the whole vicinity.
“What’s the meaning of this?!” He questioned her once again, his voice a mix of anger and confusion, trying to understand why one of his own servants would stand in his way—especially in such a situation.
The girl remained expressionless, her eyes focused on the ‘young master’. Her lips moved again, and a very well-crafted, respectful tone could be heard. “My apologies, young master. I’m merely following Master Theoldorien’s orders.” After her empty apology, not only had she avoided answering the question, but also said everything Selorien needed to hear to understand the situation.
“Grandfather…!” The words came from behind clenched teeth, as he made no effort to hide his displeasure.
He looked at the maid, his gaze a mixture of seriousness and hate. “Let me through, Escarlata, or else…!” Maybe it was time to make use of his status in the family. Maybe he could convince her, as the ‘young master’.
But her next, icy words sent shivers down his back. “Or else… What? Do not forget, young master.” Her visage was still as stoic as before, yet Selorien could feel he was gazing into terror itself.
“I only answer to Master Theoldorien.” A simple-to-understand ultimatum. He was not in any position to order her around, he wasn’t even standing on equal grounds, even when he was supposed to be above her due to his status in the family.
He was powerless before her, and the might of his grandfather.
In the distance, Rosco watched in amusement. His groupies were scattered around—some bored, some drooling at the sight of the maid, a few itching for anything to happen, any excuse to spill blood.
Among those, the mysterious hooded man approached Rosco and looked at Lilithra while whispering. “We should go. Take her with us.” The man with the huge scythe on his back looked at his companion in bewilderment. Lilithra, on the other hand, started struggling harder, but the arm holding her in the air was barely moving.
“Wha- why? We came for that guy!” He exclaimed, confusion turning into anger as he pointed with his free hand to the motionless Ascalon. What was his companion thinking?
“We don’t have the luxury of waiting around all night!” Replied the hooded man. He seemed agitated, and even raised his voice. Rosco wasn’t pleased by that.
They had a mutual, beneficial agreement, but they weren’t Guildmates or anything of the sort. He wasn’t about to let an outsider give him orders, not until the hooded bastard explained himself; and even then, he had to like what he heard.
The girl simply listened, it was the only thing she could do, for now. She was using this time to think of a way out of the situation; although amid her panic and fear, it was a hard task. Still, an idea was slowly but surely coming through, so it was good that these guys had decided to discuss with each other.
“What’s your game here, huh, Moleman? This was your idea.” Rosco responded with total seriousness, his demeanor changing completely, as he faced the man boldly.
Rosco was informed about the wanderer, a pricy scoop! The plan was to coax him into joining them, by any means necessary. It was going to be easy, a unique opportunity since the outsider wasn’t in the headquarter’s clutches yet. It was just what he needed to finally get ahead of the other Guilds! And finally, finally get some more recognition in the lower spheres of the city.
If only. Things had really taken a weird turn, especially when that maid had contacted them, negotiating with them so they wouldn’t hurt the ‘young master’ in exchange for her assistance. It was a suspicious event, but one he would fully exploit. There was also the blonde wanderer, who seemed like a dumbass with no survival instinct, seeing that he had rejected the Flaming Fists without even a bit of consideration.
But the so-called ‘Moleman’ now wanted to leave without the prize, and with some leftovers to boot? He was singing to a different tune, and Rosco couldn’t understand why. To be fair, he wasn’t the smartest man, either.
“Ugh, you’re so st–” The hooded man was replying while losing his patience, but as if to help explain his point, and save him from calling Rosco stupid, Selorien’s phone started ringing. His eyes immediately focused on the elf, as that was what he had feared for a while now.
Selorien heard the familiar ringtone and gasped, regaining control over his senses after he had been locked into Escarlata’s dreary stare. He quickly backstepped, and as one of his daggers disappeared into nothingness, he picked up his phone from his hoodie’s pocket and answered.
A voice he couldn’t stand came out from the speakers, and it belonged to none other than Casanova’s Guildmaster. That’s right, they still had a way to get out of that situation!
“Hey hey, Selly. What’s taking you guys so lon–” But he was cut short by Selorien’s frantic shouting. “We need help at Wellington’s crossing!” Exclaimed the elf, but as soon as he tried to elaborate, his phone shut down.
Surprised, Selorien rapidly looked around, and saw the hooded man with one of his arms extended towards him.
Right after, a screen manifested itself in front of Selorien, and confirmed what had happened.
Skill - Interference - has been detected.
An ability usually utilized to interrupt communications or electronic devices for a short while, very illegal but pretty common in the lowest circles of the city. It wasn’t something one could use to rob a bank or the like, because of the low range and duration of the effect, but it was enough for moments like these.
Selorien clicked his tongue, but in the back of his mind, he assessed the situation. He had managed to ask for help, and named the street clearly. There was no doubt his Guildmaster would understand, right? Right…? Somehow, doubt began to overcome him, remembering the punchable face of the man known as Lucio.
On the other hand, the better news was that Escarlata didn’t move; she simply watched him. Was it that she couldn’t interfere anymore, or that her purpose was solely to stop him from engaging in combat against the Flaming Fists? The latter seemed the most reasonable, since she had stuck around.
Adding to that, his grandfather’s orders were probably related to Lilithra. No, more like definitely. He knew how much hatred the old elf had for the girl's parents since that fateful incident had taken place… But Selorien didn’t want to believe he would take it out on her; until now, that is. Escarlata was probably his grandfather’s way of stating that he should cut ties with her or something.
But oh boy, was his grandpa talking to deaf elven ears. Selorien wasn’t anything like him and took pride in that; he could see beyond prejudiced hate, and firmly believed that the sins of the parents shouldn’t carry over to their children. His family had a fair share of that, too, and he had seen with his very eyes how Lilithra was anything but a ‘demon’.
Most importantly, he had made a promise to her, as his best friend: that he would always stand by her side, no matter what.
He took comfort in remembering his promise, and bravery in his defiance against the old man. But the bad news, and the hard reality, was that he still couldn’t do anything; not with Escarlata on his ass. They needed to hold on, somehow, until, and if, reinforcements arrived. Maybe Ascalon, who had been oddly unresponsive, could lend them a hand, even though Lilithra had asked him to stay put.
Wait, was that it? Was he really just standing around because she asked him to not interfere? But before he could delve deeper into these conclusions, he heard Lilithra scream, and his eyes focused on the girl’s location.
“Let me go!” Lilithra exclaimed, as Rosco started to drag her away. He had resigned himself to following Moleman’s plan, much to his frustration. The group that accompanied him started to move as if to block the way, and Selorien couldn’t help but feel that their time was running out.
There had to be something they could do, he just had to think! But Escarlata’s presence was unraveling every plan he conceived in his head. He couldn’t imagine a path that far ahead, but he had to keep trying.
Meanwhile, Lilithra thought this was her only and last chance. In a last effort to break out of Rosco’s grip, she started summoning her weapon of choice.
An object began to appear on her free hand, taking a long and somewhat thin shape as it materialized. It could’ve been mistaken by a bō or a quarterstaff, but three pointed ends at the top betrayed the suspense of its identity, the image resembling a bladed cross.
However, It was no simple spear either, as a lengthy cloth started to manifest around the cross-shaped end, revealing its true form: a battle-banner. It was an uncommon armament, to be sure, but one that she had chosen for herself, and that really fit her personality.
Both Rosco and Moleman looked at her, not very surprised or bothered by this, but a bit curious instead, as she raised her banner high. Rosco especially, since he had never seen her use it.
“Be brave!” The girl shouted with resolution, her voice echoing boldly! At the same time, her weapon started to glow in a golden, soothing light, the cloth dancing in the wind furiously. Then, a blue-ish screen appeared atop the area.
The personal skill - Be Brave! - Has been activated in the surrounding zone.
Selorien recognized the skill immediately, as he felt a surge in power. It was a buff-type ability, one that moderately raised the stats of those Lilithra acknowledged as allies. It was a basic skill for the moment, but it was definitely her style. She had always wanted to support other people, lend a helping hand, and rouse up the spirit of those around her.
It also let Rosco clearly know that she never considered the Flaming Fists their allies. Although he had seen her only as a pawn too, it was like the last straw for the tough-looking man, as he felt a calm anger rise inside him.
Taking the initiative, Lilithra brought the banner down in a downward swing towards Rosco, powered by her now-raised parameters. Rosco let go of her and sidestepped to the left, easily avoiding the attack while his other hand clutched the handle of his great scythe. Moleman quickly took a huge leap backwards, almost in a panic, as he didn’t want to get caught in the rampaging of a wild beast.
The girl gulped, as her yellow eyes followed Rosco’s hand, feeling a chill run down her spine once again. Selorien, in the distance, opened his eyes wide in agitation. He knew Rosco was a thug and not the brightest bulb in the shed, but he became a true monster when wielding his signature weapon.
Rosco was one of the reasons his Guild was still standing, even when they leaned heavily into the clandestine; and that very man was about to wreak havoc. But the moment he started to unsheathe, he hesitated, his hand twitching all of a sudden.
The maid was the first one to notice, alarm bells ringing inside her head as she finally pried her eyes from Selorien and looked at Rosco’s direction with a shocked expression. It was the most ‘humane’ face she had shown up to that moment.
The second to notice was Moleman, who was caught completely off-guard by what had just happened. Having gained a good distance, he could appreciate it clearly, but still couldn’t have anticipated such an outcome.
Then Rosco, Lilithra, Selorien, and lastly the rest of the riff-raff from the Flaming Fists. Everyone gazed at the anomaly: Ascalon had finally moved. The guy that everyone had somewhat forgotten, now stood in between the red-haired girl and her opponent, his back turned on the latter. His good eye interlocked with Lilithra’s, showing a resolute stare.
As everything unfolded, Ascalon had been replaying horrible memories inside his head. Whenever he approached the light, ugly emotions pulled him back. He needed a push, a guide—he needed help.
And it was then that Lilithra’s cry broke his trance. He moved to her side immediately, he wanted to confirm something. Her words made him remember a conversation they had at The Chalice, when they had finished enjoying dinner.
“Lady Lilithra.” His voice felt distant, but determined. His eye slowly went to her horns, then back to meet her gaze. “Just tell me. Were your words at the tavern your sincerest wishes?” The girl, somewhat taken aback by the whole situation, tried to understand the abrupt words of the knight.
Realizing what he was referring to, she nodded weakly. Her yellow eyes looked teary, her face laid bare before Ascalon.
At the sight, his chest tightened. Ascalon took a deep breath, and closed his eye for a second. Then he turned around, and as he met Rosco’s shocked stare, Exemplaris started to materialize in front of him. He grabbed it, and effortlessly stuck the pointy end in the ground, putting both hands atop the handle.
“Very well. Henceforth, you shall have to face me.” He stated in a commanding voice, shivers assaulting everyone. “But I am not one to bully the weak—whoever flees will be spared.”
He had found his resolution.