Chapter 3 : The Paladin

The next morning felt like the night after several rounds at the tavern. The light was as cruel and blinding as ever. I rubbed my eyes, they weren't used to seeing the light. I think the green in my eyes must have gotten darker because of how little light I see. Not anymore. The unceremonious sun brought in fresh tribulations.

Lion tattoo seemed to have set his eyes on Alto now. He continued to spend the morning glaring at him with a hungry look in his eyes. By now Alto must have realised he wasn't getting anything out of me and had settled on staring off into the distance. 

It was maybe early noon, when it came to blows. Lion tattoo lurched forward. It took him a while to raise his hefty figure but once it was done he stared down with a look of resolution.

"Hey, little rabbit," he said to Alto, "You don't wanna be here, right?"

Alto didn't respond. Lion tattoo gave him a kick, "Answer!" He barked.

"No!" Alto released at last, "No I don't! Obviously I don't,"

"Well, no tattoo, no crime," 

"I don't know what that means," Alto returned his eyes to the ground.

"I'm saying, shit for brains," Lion tattoo hissed predatorily, "I'm about to solve all your problems," 

He grabbed onto Alto and dragged him up as the crowd of prisoners watched with morbid amusement. Though I felt somewhat sympathetic, I wasn't about to be the next target. I laid back with indifference staring up at the brick. Now the light was filtering in, I could see it was a disappointing shade of grim red.

"What are you doing?!" Alto cried.

Lion tattoo laid his hand on the hare painted on Alto's hands. Once more the lion went whirling around with terrible speed. Alto let out a scream as it tore the hare from his flesh and swallowed it whole. As Alto fell to the ground nursing his bloody hand, lion tattoo looked down at his own hand with a smile. As the lion found its place back on his neck, on the small corner of index finger and thumb, there was now a little black hare.

My attention settled on a lion tattoo this time. What a fool. It's the first thing they tell you when you get a demon tattoo. The ink is the contract between you and the demon.  You can't have two contracts...

Lion tattoo threw his head back laughing in triumphant. 

"Let them bring the fucking paladin now, see what happens!" He announced to his audience.

A few inmates gave a grunt of approval. Others were quiet. They knew what was coming next. 

People always think they know better than the gods. That's why mad wizards created the dark magic that made these tattoos possible. And if you know better than the gods, you must know better than the demons. However, demons are petty. Truth be told, there have been stories of people who have made more than one contract, but for the most part it always ends the same. If the gods feed on praise, the demons feed on hatred. They love to be hated. 

Lion tattoo was still laughing. He hadn't realised the little hare had hopped up the length of his arm and was at the throat of the lion. An explosion of ink flew out the hare culminating in a beast that words cannot describe. The whirlwind on ink engulfed their host in scrawling back ruins. What was left of lion tattoo started to convulse wildly then he became very still.

The ink stains retracted. Lion tattoo was standing very still. Rigidly upright. There was only the white remaining in his eyes. One of those closest to him inched closer. They gave him a small push.

"Hey, are you..."

At the moment, the skin concaved and the hollowed out remains of lion tattoo fell to the floor with a loud slap. Only, he wasn't exactly lion tattoo anymore. The moment the body hit the floor, the lion flew out at the one who had last touched him and engulfed them too. They let out a horrendous scream as their own tattoo came to the heads with both the lion and the hare.

I had been so engrossed with the spectacle, I barely heard the cell door open behind me at that moment. A shimmer of gold flew past me at lightning speed. I was instantly drawn to it. A great sword flew down and pierced the latest victim with impunity. My eyes panned up slowly to the figure wielding the massive blade.

A glimmer of armour, shining so brightly it must have been polished that morning caught my eyes. Then I saw, it wasn't gold but a long plait of blonde hair that reached below the waist. The woman yanked back her sword dispassionately and turned to the other knights who were still waiting outside with a look of horror.

"The host must be killed before it can spread," the woman said in a clear but distinctly emotionless voice.

It was then, her stony blue eyes turned to me. I usually care very little for the color of a woman's eyes. Yet as she glared at me with a mixture of disdain and perhaps a lifetime of useless pride, the light caught her eyes. I could see an expanse as deep as the ocean. Such assuredly still waters shone through her eyes, but still water is never truly still.

I told myself inwardly it was nothing but a calm surface disguising turbulent chaos underneath and averted my eyes.

The official gestured and I was hauled off to another room. They sat me down in a little square box room with a single table. On one side, the official took a seat across from me. The great and merciless paladin didn't dain to sit with us. She remained standing with a look of impatience.

The official turned to her with a simpering smile. No speck of his earlier complaint could be seen.

"We really thank the upper district for taking an interest in this case," he said.

She didn't answer. She was inspecting the room with a look of apathy.

"Yes, well.." the official cleared his throat and turned back to me, "We'll start with your name,"

To my surprise, the paladin returned her gaze to me and began to sign. To say I was astonished was something of an understatement. I had never seen a noble use the street language before. It wasn't even a language made for those who cannot speak. It was used for communication within criminal society. Even then, not many used it now. The guild master was the only one I knew of who used it regularly.

"Answer the question," she signed. Her hand movements were almost as aggressive as her stare.

I answered with a smile, "How do you know this language, lady knight? Is this what they teach at the knight's academy these days?"

She stared back with cold indifference, "I said, '' answer the question." Came the disgruntled reply.

"Levi," I replied.

"His name is Levi," she said aloud to the official.

He gave a brisk nod, "Ask him he's a member of the thieves guild,"

She cast an eye on the official with irritation, "He can still hear you. Ask yourself," she said sharply.

"Ah yes," the official gave a nervous laugh," of course," then turning to me, he repeated the question.

"What's the thieves guild?" I replied with a smirk.

The moment the paladin relayed the answer, the official slammed his hand against the desk. His early politeness was overtaken by rage, "Listen to me, you piece of shit. Your guild already sold you out. You're dead in the water. The only out is through me, got it? So start talking," then he broke into an arrogant smile, "well, not talking I guess. Just tell me the names of the guild members and we'll think about commuting your sentence,"

I tilted my head back unmoved. "How about we talk about commuting my sentences now, then we'll see if it comes back to me?"

The official's eyes widened angrily upon hearing this. His fist clenched and shook.

"I wonder why you're getting so agitated?" I observed, "You dipped your hand in the honey pot right? Now the bees are swarming, I imagine. There's no point in coating the rest of us in your shit. If I were you, I'd just start running. Oh wait, you can't because that's how bees are I guess. You piss off the queen and they keep chasing you until the end of the earth. Maybe you should just say your prayers instead. Might speed things up a bit." I grinned widely.

I watched with intrigue as the paladin conveyed these words. I wasn't so much interested in the aghast look upon the official's face but more upon the paladin herself. Even if it was some kind of favour, the Emperor's twelve holy paladin's rarely ever condescended to the lower district. 

Most of them came from distinguished aristocratic families. Though this paladin probably held a sword before she could walk, what would a woman like her think of all this? Her expression remained frigidly unchanged as we continued back and forth. She conveyed it all seemingly without an ounce of interest.

The discussion had come to a standstill when there was an abrupt knock at the door. The young knight burst through the doors with a look of adoration for the steely paladin before relaying his message in a flustered ramble.

"Duke Severen, the minister of defense, has arrived!"