20 His Choice
Swaying to and fro, a horse-pulled coach, blanketed with a murky presence erasing its identity, traveled swiftly across the dirt pathway, to which its shadow shifted across the ground underneath the lowering sun.
Inside the lurching carriage, the bald aristocrat tapped on his upright cane impatiently before on the cushioned seat opposite of him, a hood and finally the shimmering outline of a person emerged out of thin air.
The elder's scrunched brows etched even deeper however.
"What took you so long?" he enunciated, his protruding belly shaking with repressed anger. The cloaked person shifted uncomfortably, but the aristocrat paid no heed, clicking his tongue, "I invested plenty of time and money into you; not so you can dilly dally around and potentially get us caught!
So tell me now, were you able to find a channel or not?"
A firm yet rasping voice replied, "I... I was able to meet Lady Sofia. As you mentioned, she tried to probe me but was unsuccessful. Instead, I gathered quite—"
"Quit blabbering and spit it out!" the aristocrat spouted as he pounded his cane on the wooden floor, "The deal! We need enough workers before the deadline!" Then abruptly, his reddening face snapped toward the curtained window.
...
Maintaining their gait, the bay steeds snorted every so often as they pulled the obscured carriage till the ground underneath their hooves suddenly gave way.
From the ground, two boulder-ridden palms rose into the air and swiped over the empty top of the moving carriage. A crisp crack of splitting rock resounded as glimmering ice sliced through the incoming, solidified fingers.
The frosty shards lost their pristine form afterward however, splashing the surroundings with it.
With anxious neighs, the damp horses tensed, attempting to bolt over the splintering ground as they struggled against their harnesses. Yet before they could do so, an immense pressure rooted them on the spot while their loose reins tightened from a hooded man's grasp.
During this, the ground shook and trembled as through the cracks, multiple earthy hands outstretched themselves toward the lithe figure moving swiftly away among the treetops.
To the attack, the figure seemed to exhale out an icy mist along the path, which instantly froze the hands upon contact. Though such a tactic hardly halted the momentum as they broke through their frozen exterior soon after.
"Rise," a low mutter came from the figure. Instantly, the atmosphere appeared to shiver as thin slivers of pure ice expanded mid-air into a thick, frosty barrier.
"Boom!"
Sprays of splintered ice and crumbled dirt flew outward. Once the debris cleared however, the mysterious figure had disappeared without a trace.
A loud bang from inside the carriage echoed outward, frightening the already spooked horses. Yet the overwhelming pressure constrained the steeds, leaving them to roll their widened eyes around.
Motionless, the cloaked man in the coach's seat let out a small, repressed sigh before turning toward the horses, patting their damp coats in comfort.
A while later, the bay steeds resumed onward under his watchful eye.
...
"NEIL!"
Kalani lunged toward the blazing flames enveloping the battered youth's body but collided to halt when the swordsman's fiery blade met his. And with a cracking punch, Kalani stumbled back several steps, eyes wildly shaking from the pain shooting across his side.
And yet, Kalani managed to retain his sanity despite the wracking pain each new breath brought. Immediately, he chose to brace for impact.
But it never came.
Instead, a torrential wave of air pressure slammed into Kalani. It wasn't quite physical; however, disorientation was putting it mildly.
But from the corner of his eye, the remnants of Neil, that traitor, vanished along with the portal.
Agony, loathing— they clawed at the boy's churning mind. Clenching his dagger, he hollowly fixed his emerald eyes onto the unmasked swordsman staggering backward.
"Lucas...?" a low, pained whisper left his lips.
Like a blank parchment, the boy's iris turned a shade of depthless black ink.
...
At the splitting crack, Nyx's lids reflexively squeezed shut.
"Arjun, what is the meaning of this," a frigid hiss from Sofia reached her ears. The girl peeked up through squinted eyes.
Wearing a coy smirk, Arjun shot a glance at the spewing fog escaping the fissure in the veil and then back at the splintered crater in the cavern's wall, letting out a whistle, "You did a number on lil Six."
"Look, you even scared the kids," he drawled out, his golden irises shimmering in mirth behind his glasses as they traced the pallid faces staring in horror at the cloaked person's motionless body imbedded in the rock wall just a few feet away from them.
Though his gaze stopped on a child, who trembled while clenching the rags of the older lad in front of him.
A lad with the most fascinating set of eyes— a hue of cold blue— which met his own... However, the pale youngster avoided eye contact once he noticed Arjun's gaze.
"Did you plot with him?" a question directed at Arjun brought his attention back to Sofia's grim expression.
With a nonchalant shrug, Arjun responded, "Take care of yourself; otherwise you'll get wrinkles, Softi." He could feel her boring holes through him— a reality he might have had if patience wasn't her virtue.
He finally sighed, crossing his arms, "Relax, lil Six isn't my spy. If anything, I'm more surprised one of your own diverted your attack."
Hearing this, Sofia massaged her furrowed forehead, sinking deep in thought. Her hazel eyes then flickered, "If you do not find and kill that boy, I'll report to Her Empress."
Raising an arched brow at the threat, Arjun sneered, "Did blood finally clog up your ears? I'm sure you know what they call me."
"Favor doesn't last long," her words cut like a blade— sharp and cold. "I'm sure you know what they refer to me also."
Arjun clicked his tongue, "So boring. I will bring him back in due time, but I've made sure the boy doesn't know anything about us. Even if this is reported, Karst's king is too faint-hearted to intervene."
"It's exactly this flippancy that will harm Her Empress." But then their gazes snapped toward the broken veil.
...
"I know," Kalani's ragged tone echoed as he stared at the softening expression of the kneeling Lucas. The arrow's wooden shaft soaked crimson from the man's pierced throat.
A shadow hovered over the boy's figure, taking on the form of a bird.
"But the truth will not set me free."
...
