“Captain! Last volley,” Lisa heard a slaver call from below. Standing at one end of the crate full of dormant hell fire, her eyes rested on Theo. Kneeling down at the other end of the container, he dug in his ear, bored, like he was waiting on a waitress to take his order at a bar. It must be a mask, cause her heart was pounding. Or maybe it wasn’t and this was just another day for him. She thought back to the first time they met and he had slit that orcs through like it was nothing.
She looked down at the crate, and her throat felt dry and the slightest tinge of a headache began. By the Mortal Soul did this feel wrong, she couldn’t look at it anymore. They were slavers, why did something feel so off, like doing this would piss off Karma or Fate, maybe both.
She planted her knees and palms on the rough plated roof. The billowing winds snatched at her clothes and hair as it howled from all around her. Lisa peered over the edge, and saw fifteen slavers directly below them. She glanced down the alley, away from the Adventurer’s Guild and saw a mount of corpses in slavers armor. At least thirty laid in row, stacked on top of each other creating a vague cadaver pyramid.
A shriek from below. Lisa looked and saw a slaver flopped against their firing crate, bolt through the mouth. Lisa clenched her jaw, feeling a tinge of pain seeing the bolt resting in his face as he kicked at the others who were trying to hold him down.
She saw the tears rolling down his face as blood covered his clothing, dripping on that white slaver brand. Lisa glared at that damned brand. Lisa’s nails drug against the course roofing, keeping herself from moving.
“Fucking burn those things!” screamed along the gayles. Her eyes shot to Theo.
He was still knelt, rubbing his face underneath the hood. Their eyes locked and he shrugged in a motion that told her to hurry the Ten Hells up. She looked around the roof, no one but them. Had he yelled? She couldn’t remember anything about the scream other than it had happened. She shook her head with an exhale and went to look at the slavers below, one last time. Her hand quivered against the hard stone roof. Why was she so nervous? So many nights had she dreamt sweet dreams of slitting her master's throat? Countless times the thought of beating one of these bastards to death had put a smile on her face, before her best fake ‘I really care about who you are. How can I service you’ greetings. But why now was she shaking like a wet puppy?
“Why are you hesitating! Burn them! Do it!” The voice surrounded her, like a smothering velvet cloth.
Lisa fell back, scrambling away from the edge, her heart in her throat. She whipped around, hair slapping her face, panting. “Hey, did you hear anything?” She forced a whisper.
“Besides the sound of you wasting my time…nope nothing at all.” Theo said, casually glancing around.
Lisa sucked in air and looked down at the crate of metal containers. Trembling palms, twisted stomach, the hair on the back of her neck really to jump out, something was wrong. She didn’t know what, or why she just wanted to climb back down and leave it all behind. It felt like someone or something was watching her,
“H-hey Theo…” Lisa asked.
“What?” Theo yawned.
Lisa looked back over toward the alley, heat on her cheeks, “Could you do it? You know, throw this over the ledge.”
He looked around, and pointed to his chest. “Me? Absolutely.” Lisa could feel the smug grin under the ever present darkness of his hood. She squinted at him puffing his chest ever so slightly.
Gods above and below she felt like shit asking another person to do it, but it was going to get done all the same. So why did it matter. She waited but Theo didn’t move. “Yes?” She asked.
“Oh, you wanted me to actually do it? Oh no can do ma’am. Those are your supplies in danger, these are people you hate, and your mission to complete. I’m here to assist you at most. Do your own dirty work.” He finished, crossing his arms.
That sent a heat up her spine and she snapped, “Do my own dirty work?”
“Yeah! Why don’t you do your own dirty work. Are you afraid to ruin that innocent image you think you have?”The voice yelled. Lisa spun, her hair flailing like a tornado of whips. She fell on her butt. Pain shot up her back, twisting her face as she looked to the sky. Who the hell is…
Her mouth hung open looking into the black swirling mass of black above. Hidden within the thick clouds, visible for a split second was a gargantuan, monstrous three eyed skull, illuminated by purple streaks of lightning. “Become what you truly are! Dive deep into your mortal soul and revel in your vengeance. Shed your sheep’s skin.”
Did any of them ever feel bad for what they did? Purple lightning flashed. In the blinding light, images of the slavers smiling as they threw her and her mother into shackles glimpsed before her. Brief, but so bright, so vivid it burned to look, but she gritted her teeth and bared it.
Did they care that I had a life!?
The thunder clapped and shook the inn beneath their feet. She heard the clattering of the metal manacles from below. Her vision narrowed as the world around her faded and all she saw was the black in the clouds. A pressure pooled at the back of her head, and all she could do was clench her fists. Lisa tried to think of something, tried to make sense of any of this, what was going on? She found her mind dragged deeping into a time that she had locked away. At least tried to lock away. Guilt dripped from her like rain, and all she could was shame and loathing.
Her lips quivered as words “m..mom,” fell from her lips. A heat boiled in her stomach, and she teemed with energy. Her tunneled gaze was broken from the sky. The crate and Flicker Fuel was her feet. She lurched at the containers, with a half twist of the top, she broke the first seal. She scrambled with shaking hands moving from one container to the next.
“Wooh, didn’t you say this was dangerous?” Theo jumped back, his hand reached for her.
“Those bastards…” Lisa growled slapping his hand away.
She saw his feet move closer as she snatched the cainstiers from the crate. Each time she sat one down, the image of her mother, dead and immasited in that dirty, dark cell flashed before her eyes. He didn’t grab at her or say anything. Theo picked the Flicker Fuel and helped line them up along the roof’s edge. She grabbed the ale and doused the ropes end.
“I need a light.” Lisa turned her gaze to Theo, who was at the other end of the rag rope, setting down the last container.
She extended an open hand and shook it toward as he casually strolled over. He wanted her to do her own dirty work and now he was taking his time? She grinded her teeth and growled. “Hurry.”
Theo reached underneath the cloak and pulled out a small square metal box with the crude etching of a flame along the side. “Flicker box. Press down on the corner and then you got fire.” He offhandedly slapped it in her palm. “Don’t get us killed cause you’re mad.” She pulled back, and he grabbed her wrist. “You’re not a berserker, calm the fuck down.”
Their gazes locked, and she eased her arm, the visions of her mother’s corpse resided back into her mind. The furnace in her stomach cooled, her muscles loosened, and her tunneled gaze broke. “Huh?” Lisa muttered.
She looked around, tired, she noticed everything was set up, and Theo had an iron grip on her wrist. Theo nodded and let her, “Ready?” He turned his back to her.
Was she? She grabbed at the very edge of the rag rope, the only part not soaked in ale. She tried to shallow, but is was a ball in her throat. Who was she to take a life? She wasn’t a soldier or adventurer. She was just, “a slave…” the worlds slipped from lips.
Lisa let go of the rope, feeling tears on her sliding down her face. She was weak, powerless, pathetic, no different than the day they came and killed her lover, and enslaved her mother and her. Clank! She heard the crossbows fire and she looked edge. They out, no more bolts, no more time. The slavered pulled out swords and started gathering toward the front.
“You gonna do anything?” Theo whispered.
“It’s not my place. I’m no warri—-”
Theo snatched off his hood and for the first time she saw his face. Hard azure eyes, bushy brows, heavy stubble, and unkept brown hair. He pulled the cloak aside and she saw it. PF03RE11-, branded the left side of his neck with heavy black ink.
“You were?” Lisa muttered, eyes wide.
Theo let go of cloak and grabbed the rope, saying nothing.
Lisa looked down and saw the slavers lining up, the glint from one of the manacles caught her eye. She swallowed and looked over at the guild hall. No arrows, no yells, and no movement from the adventurers defences. There wasn’t a rush of anger, no grotesque images of from the past, Lisa grabbed the rope and lit it ablaze. She smiled at Theo. He was strong, in control, and was a slave.
Lisa lifted her end in sync with Theo, and then they threw it over the edge. He had saved her and now she was going to save them from the roaches that infected her home.
Lisa watched it fall to the ground. The flames danced in her vision and a smile grew on her face as some of the slavers looked up. She stood at the edge looking down. “Look at me…” the words slithered from her mouth. Pop! The first cainaster hit the ground, then a blinding light bathed the alley in screams.
She felt something rise up from the pit of her stomach. It made her happy. Was it pride? She wasn’t sure but damned if wasn’t a wonderful thing to feel.
She bathed in the screams of the forsaken, and took in a deep breath. The smell of cooking meat filled her nose. The smile grew watching them flail around in their ballet of agony. She felt like she could laugh, like the villain in the books she read, but all that came out was a hmpf.
“Wow, someone’s proud. How are you feeling killer?” Theo said, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Good way to get your first kill if you ask me. The more the merrier. Oh, missed one.” He pulled a dagger from his cloak and threw it with a step forward. The dagger flew straight, slowing arching down. The dagger grazed the back of the young slaver’s head, and he rounded the back alley corner. He shook his head, “Can’t be perfect all the time.”
“Shouldn’t we go get him?” Lisa looked over at him.
“He didn’t take my dagger so not my problem.” He said stepping back over to her, big toothy smile, hands on his hips as if he had hit his mark.
A weight pulled on her stomach. He most likely saw her face, and with her luck, so would his entire company. She wanted to run after him, but what was she gonna do? She had snuck up on them from above, and fighting a slaver head on wasn’t something she wanted to do. The weight of the world fell back upon her shoulders, and the nagging inner thoughts added to it. She felt like absolute shit now, it wasn’t the fact that she failed to kill them all. It was that she enjoyed killing them. She remembered her father’s words. “Killing doesn’t make you a monster, enjoying it does. It’s all that separates a murderer and a soldier.”
She lowered her head, and her eyes drifted over to the smoldering adventurers guild. The prize which she had damned her soul for. The adventurers began to come out from behind their cover and she could feel their eyes upon her and Theo. What in all the seven clans are they gonna think?
Theo patted her back. “Look, a fan club.”
She didn’t bother, what was the point. She had killed people, enjoyed it, and probably killed the adventurers when that straggler reports back. Lisa knew Havel wasn’t going to take this laying down. She froze, sweat running down her neck. What if he remembers me?
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