Chapter Fifteen - Rough
The city streets were hustling and bustling in the mid day sun. Poor Cabbage and potato farmers hawked their wares next to rich Jewelry shops, with heavily armored guards posted out front to keep the commoners from coming in. People moved here and there, some shopping or browsing storefronts, others having conversations with dear friends on the way to their lavish estates. Adventurers passed through from time to time, always seeming to be able to part a crowd in their mage robes or chainmail.
Ever the guards were vigilant in the streets, most veterans, and all knew the town inside and out. Much like she did. They thought they were clever in their red tabards and pointy metal hats. She knew that most were dumber than a pile of bricks. Though it didn't help they knew her face, and knew she meant trouble.
The girl slipped behind a melon cart, the middle aged farmer woman shooing her away like some stray dog as she dashed behind a wagon hauling potatoes. A perfect way to dodge the sharp glances of the guards. She didn't have to go very far before she caught sight of her target, a fat pompous merchant boldly wearing his riches on his belt.
It would be the steal of the year if she could filch it off of him. She began to make her move, weaving through the people and hiding behind a large crate on the sidewalk as she looked at him. A moment later a couple personal guards came into view and she thought better than to try stealing from him then.
City guards would cut off a hand, but the personal guards of a merchant... she had lost many a street rat friend to that unfortunate fate. Their screams still caused nightmares. The sad part was most of them weren't any older than she, young kids or early teenagers at best. It was the way of the streets. She didn't have time to grieve or stop, lest she wanted to starve.
She stood and shied away from the man and his small army. She whistled to herself as she moved, hating the way the more finely dressed people looked at her. She was filthy. She hadn't taken a bath once in her life yet alone ever bought any decent clothes. Her simple top and pants were worn down and covered in grime. Sometimes she would bump into minor nobles or women with fancy dresses just to get them dirty too. It made her laugh.
Halfway down the Main Street she turned onto a side road, that led off to one of the smaller city gates. There were far less people, and far fewer guards. She wondered if she would get lucky then, being able to snatch a bit of coin and dive into a side alley before anyone knew what was happening. As she walked along, passing nice brick houses and almost getting trampled by a knight on a horse, her keen ears picked up something coming from her left.
She turned and saw a few figures down a dark alley between Adrian's bakery and the Brothel. "Hand it over kid.." she heard, seeing three tall shadowy figures crowding around a small person. Curious, she stopped at the edge of the alley and listened, occasionally peaking around the corner to catch a glance.
"No!" She heard a young voice say, to which a man replied, "Fine... You don't need your life then... Get em boys..."
A moment later muffled screams could be heard and she spotted the small figure going down, the men punching and kicking and stabbing him with small blades, probably knives.
Her heart beat fast, and she waited... and waited... the sound of rustling clothes and the whispered talking of the three all she could discern. He was dead, whoever he was. And he deserved it to in her mind. Why pick a fight you can't win? Always give your stuff away and run when you get the chance. It's how she stayed alive.
A moment later she heard them moving towards the entrance of the alley so she backed away, moving down the street a bit to keep watch. "What's in this box do you think?" She heard the skinny man say as he stepped out of the alley. He was holding a black wooden box and he and his two friends were covered in blood.
She waited for them to turn the corner down another side street before she dashed down the alley. She didn't often help people but she had a soft spot for kids her age, especially homeless ones.
As she made her way down the dark alley, stepping over puddles of piss and shit, she spotted the boy curled up on the ground near some broken crates. He was wearing plain clothes, though they were much nicer than hers, and she moved to take his boots off of him.
He had blood pouring out of multiple stab wounds in his neck and chest, and she could tell he had been a handsome young kid with his black hair and smooth skin. She stopped what she was doing and said, "oh right... thank you for these boots... I'm so sorry I couldn't save you..."
As she went to touch him she screamed and fell backwards as the boy coughed violently and rolled over. "Wh-wh-what..." she yelled, watching him struggle to breathe as he tried to put weight on a nub where his hand was supposed to go, falling over a moment later.
She sat stunned and watched him wheeze in pain a moment longer before she stood up and said, "Aah.. I'll be right back.. hang in there" before she took off down the alleyway.
...
Alder spit out a mouthful of blood through muddled thoughts. His body was wracked with pain and he couldn't move a muscle.
Everything in him screamed out in agony and he fought through fainting again. Just moments before he had been moving down the street, headed for the mage's guild when three guys grabbed him and moved him to a dark alley. They wanted to steal his stuff and even the parcel the kind man had given him and he refused.
What followed was the worst beating of his life and the burning sensation of being stabbed and cut. The absolute terror of knowing that he was dying. Then nothing. Just the suffering and the coughing, the feeling of blood oozing from his neck and chest.
He managed a weak, "aaraf nafsik", feeling his senses come back as he looked in himself at his wounds. It was like an out of body experience, where he still felt the pain and the agony of dying but he could sense it all so clearly. He relished in that feeling, of clarity. He looked down, and down... escaping into the shaded core of his being. It blocked him, like some invisible force. But he kept pushing and pushing, like a dying rat trying to break free from a trap.
Eventually he slipped through and was blinded by the sight. A magnificent yellow orb was shining brightly in his core. It spun slowly and emitted a million tendrils of pure light and energy.
He didn't stop there.
He pushed deeper and deeper, fighting back the pain, the despair, as desperation took over. It was pure instinct the way he moved with the spell, diving into the very essence of his mana core.
Down...
Down... he went.
Straight into the shimmering core itself, as he felt a great warmth envelop him. Something told him to bring out the tome and cast the spell. His subconscious struggling to survive.
Like a dying man gripping the hand of a doctor, he fought the vomit and the blood to look down at the shimmering blue words on the page.
Stammering he mouthed, "ts...tsthlk nafsik wa tathoq alalm...wa...wa tahaqaq aljasam alkalad"... he put all his intention into the spell , and a moment later he felt something deep in his being, his core... it spun faster and faster, the heat rising and rising in his body until it felt like he was on fire.
The burning agony mixed with the knife wounds and bruises to make a symphony of
Pain. He rolled around, not even knowing that he was yelling out a garbled scream all the while. His focus was on his mana core, which pulsated inside with blinding light, the slow rotation having turned into a maelstrom.
Moments later the light became unbearable and it forced his sense self spell out, and instead he felt it melt away entirely, the burning sensation eclipsing the other wounds as he felt like his skin and bones would melt
Under the heat.
Time passed... an untold Amount... it felt like forever in his mind, of waiting for the suffering to end. Eventually it all calmed down and he looked deep within himself once more, a final glance as his consciousness began to fade. Nothing... his mana core was gone... instead his body felt different, as if the searing light had filled every fiber of his body with a mild warmth... it comforted him as he slipped away, into what he could only imagine to be his final moments...