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@enokvirkow
emo heron in boots
Leon hesitated with a short, uncertain sound. He heard that correctly. We. Enok wanted to know how he could help. But it was his duty to serve and protect — even if it was just him. Even if he only succeeded helping one person this night.
He almost brushed him off. Almost told him that he could help by staying out in the lobby, where he was safest... but that was an illusion. He glanced off to where Marvin was laying down. Guy was going to turn, and he didn't have it in him to shoot him while he was still... normal.
But he couldn't leave Enok here. In the same area as an infected person who could turn in minutes, hours, who knew. It was a risk he couldn't take.
"... okaaay." How to help. Shit. Having to worry about someone else made this a lot spicier. Leon pointed up to the second floor balcony. "Need to grab supplies from the special tactics office. The maiden statue and its key is barricaded in a locked holding cell, we're gonna blow that shit open if we don't find anything quieter."
And surely Enok understood what would happen after an explosion. Such a loud noise would draw in attention from anything that still lurked here. Kicking the hornets nest on the way out.
An explosion…?
Enok cringed a little at that thought. He absolutely understood that this meant they would have to haul ass very fast after that was set off. For a moment, Enok stood there like a deer caught in the headlights, but then he nodded. Eagerly, too.
“Alright. Fine. No prob.”, he announced, as if he had any idea what he was doing. He had paid attention in chemistry. He had watched action movies – he knew how to build an explosive…. Maybe. Well, he knew, what they would need for it. The DIY would have to go to the rookie cop.
Another decisive nod and Enok made his way up the stairs to the second floor. It was strange walking around this building. It was empty – and yet it felt like it was breathing. Enok could hear his own heartbeat rush in his ears. There were very few doors going away from here. Library.
Books weren’t for explosives… but maybe they could find information there on instructions or where to find anything?
Somehow… Leon aimed for that. Did he know where he was going? Enok just quietly followed after, looking to his left and right at every corner. Not that the library was any… nicer.
“Why does everything here look like a museum?”, he uttered staring at the giant paintings high above the boring green walls. All smelled so old too.
“… does anyone even know you’re here?”
JONATHAN RHYS MEYERS as HEAHMUND and ALEX HØGH ANDERSEN as IVAR THE BONELESS VIKINGS 5.05 The Prisoner
Leander watched on. He felt a pang of pride as he watched the kid — the others, the ones who already fled the camp? He felt a distant worry for them. Not the same kind of worry that one felt for their inner-circle, their closest, but one reserved for acquaintences from towns over. He wished them well. He hoped no harm would find them.
But, running unprepared into the world as they had... there were reasons to worry. Though he was just some polished Lucian fool. He didn't know how resourceful they were, where they came from, where their chains had dragged them. With newfound freedom they had every reason to fight on.
Hanging his head a moment, a barely-formed smile pulled at his lips. Leander curled his toes onto his leather sandals. He had to imagine what would Somnus say? His eyes closed while the unnamed kid rummaged through the camp.
His tone would be serious. There would be a tinge of warning in his words. 'You're scouting for a risky mission, Leander. Do not falter. Continue on. Alone.' He shook his head, even his own mind softened the Prince. Probably because he knew his Prince in vulnerable moments. When he could be Somnus, not an heir with a heavy crown.
Finally he continued on. For a moment he thought the kid might make a break for where the others had took off running — then he heard the steps. Desperate. Quickening. It squeezed his chest and tested at his resolve. Somnus was going to be... displeased.
Leander turned his head, casting the kid a proper look as he caught up. "Lucis is through the forests and the mountain ranges, to the east." He lifted his hand and gestured. Though they were not on the horizon, those misty peaks were an impossible landmark to miss. "You've probably not heard the rumours. The forest and those mountains are haunted by a darkness. When night falls, you must light a fire and keep it lit. Make that your new habit, you hear? Throughout the forest, and throughout Lucis, never suffer a night without firelight. That's the only way to keep safe."
Leander opted not to elaborate. There was a chance the kid would be entirely safe. "Once you reach Lucian soil, travel as far east and as far north as you possibly can. Even better if you follow a road to Insomnia, all roads lead into the city, there you will be able to seek passage to Galahd..."
Enok’s eyes followed the man’s gesturing towards the east. But… there were no mountains. Were they this far away? Was the Lucian tricking him? Enok had little trust in others, but he also just… wanted to believe that the other wouldn’t mock him.
“How many days do I walk?”, he uttered, feeling a little foolish upon that question. He still kept pace with the man, looking to him, as if he was a real mentor. Like he had looked at Noak.
A haunted forest and mountains… he had in fact heard vague rumours. Something terrible lurked there. Something magic. That had been one of the missions the chained soldiers had been gathered for. Enok had never heard what had become of the men and women sent there.
For a few steps, Enok was quiet, thinking about his situation. Could he really just… go home? It felt so hollow. So meaningless. Could he still find his family…? Would they even recognize him?
“… how is Galahd?”, he asked then, almost too quietly. There was a question that had burned in his chest for a decade now. One that he had only whispered to Noak. And Noak had had no answer to it. How could he? Their world had been so small. So restricted. And each day was a fight for survival.
“Is anyone there still alive…?”
“ What were you planning to do? ”
Ugh.
Fuck.
Enok looked to the SOLDIER with an almost sheepish expression. He had been caught redhanded. But he would never admit that he was outright… borrowing supplies from Shinra. Not that the company would notice a little crate of sugar missing, anyway, right? They were far too rich for that. They ould just use that sugar in some high manager’s coffee. Or in that canteen – and they had tons of sugar, hadn’t they?
So, this little crate in his arms really was no damage done. But he could make so many delicious things with this sugar that he could sell or even hand out in the Undercity and it would make everyone down there happy!
“Uh… nothing? I’m just… transporting ingredients.”, the boy tried to weasel his way out of this situation with a bright grin towards the woman approaching him.
“And I have to hurry…”
@mcurnful
"Who are you running from?"
“I’m not running.”, it was like a reflex, that answer shooting out of him. He knew what she was. That suit, that demeanour. It was unmistakable. She was a Nifen anyway, and the likes of her ruled the imperial city. He was just some soldier. Maybe even lower than that.
He was lying. He had been running. He had stolen things from one of the General’s offices and now he had tried to make his way to the lower levels of Gralea to sell the stuff there. All his loot tucked beneath his uniform, where it now seemed to sear hot into his skin with how nervous he felt.
“I’m just… heading home.”
@shotgunxturk
“ Are you okay? ”
Was he okay?
Enok wasn’t sure. He was dizzy. His head brimmed with pain and a hazy vision. But blinking up, he recognized the owner of the voice to be one of the guys who ran the bar around here.
Reaching up and feeling the side of his head, his hand came back bloody. There was distant yelling around them. He remembered having foolishly, defiantly stood in the way of one of the imperials.
Well… at least he hadn’t been shot directly. Trying to righten himself up again from the dusty road, Enok looked around.
“… they said they were looking for resistance members… and their families. They'll comb the towns and villages.”
@foughtforthefuture
A bottle of golden oil, its surface glistening under the kitchen lights, found its way into Hannibal's hand. He poured a generous dollop into the pan, where it met the heat with a hearty sizzle, releasing a fragrant bouquet that filled the air. Hannibal, who had often faced the curious glances of those questioning the origins of his culinary dreams, with a smile that curved like a crescent moon, listened intently as Enok imparted his philosophy on food. "As Nietzsche once mused, 'There is no love sincerer than the love of food.' It seems your mother shared that profound wisdom. Food is a magical vessel, transporting us back to cherished moments."
He expertly tilted the pan, ensuring that the shimmering oil formed a golden coat over its surface, ready to embrace the ingredients to come. "After I laid down my scalpel, I embarked on a journey—not just through landscapes but through flavors, seeking the culinary essence the world had to offer. I absorbed the vibrant cultures, savoring each lesson they served. And even now," he turned back to Enok, "I find myself learning anew with you by my side."
With a subtle flourish, he placed a mound of flour on the countertop, its soft texture a canvas awaiting the brushstrokes of seasoning. He added a medley of spices, each one a passport to a different era and culture, then mixed them with his elongated fingers, a conductor orchestrating a harmonious blend. Stepping back, he extended a hand, inviting Enok to dive into the creative hodgepodge of cooking. "This kitchen, my friend, is not merely a space; it’s a realm of exploration. Here, cooking is an art of touch and intuition. You must feel the textures, the flavors, and imbue your spirit into the dish. Every traditional recipe can be a springboard for innovation, a chance to tantalize the taste buds in unexpected ways.”
He returned to the stove, ready to guide Enok through the alchemy of culinary creation, relishing the opportunity to share this experience.
It was a feat, how Dr. Lecter painted pictures with his words. Quite akin to the way he prepared the food. Enok watched the man go about heating the oil and preparing the meat, trying to imagine how the Doctor had learned similar in other people’s countries and homes.
Had he smelled just the same kind of flavours that now started to fill the kitchen? Had he stood there like Enok, trying to absorb every detail? Had he wondered the same?
Truly, the younger one hoped he could learn as much as possible from this ‘small world trip’ he had been permitted to here. Dr. Lecter had invited him to do just that and he would not waste even a second of this opportunity. Because this dark and exquisite kitchen full of luxurious in tools and food alike was far beyond what Enok could afford in his own usual life.
Perking up at the offered turn to follow Dr. Lecter’s lead, Enok imitated what he had just seen, slowly feeling the flour and spices trickle through his fingerpads. He leaned forward a little, just a bit, to get closer to the flourishing smells, though he did not dare to bow over and get his face any closer to it. For fear of looking offensive and unbecoming. And truly… these spices were so intense and fine… Enok closed his eyes for a moment. He could pick them apart, if he just focused. He could tell each sprinkle.
A small smile tugged on his lips.
“What is your favourite traditional dish, Dr. Lecter? And what did you innovate it to?”, he asked curiously, before finally opening his eyes again. He hoped his many questions weren’t too intrusive. But he was a pupil starved for answers and insights.
Carefully, he brought the spiced meat over to the stove, where Lecter stood, holding it up on a plate like an offer.
“I was taught to sear the meat – but I also saw my fair share of cuts ruined by someone fearing raw meat and using the heat of an oven after fishing the meat out of the pan. Almost burnt on the outside and grey on the inside. A shame. Especially for the poor animal that provided the meat. Nothing we can allow to happen today.”
questions only sentence starters
if you are sending to a multi-muse, remember to specify the muse that the sentence starters are being sent for .
who . . .
“ Who are you? ”
“ Who do you serve? ”
“ Who taught you that? ”
“ Who’s really in control here? ”
“ Who are you running from? ”
“ Who did this to you? ”
“ Who’s coming for us? ”
“ Who do you think I am? ”
“ Who else knows about this? ”
“ Who are you trying to protect? ”
what . . .
“ What are you? ”
“ What do you want from me? ”
“ What are you hiding? ”
“ What were you planning to do? ”
“ What just happened? ”
“ What did you see back there? ”
“ What did you promise them? ”
“ What happens if I don’t let you go? ”
“ What are the rules I’m not supposed to break? ”
“ What happens after the portal closes? ”
where . . .
“ Where did you come from? ”
“ Where are we? ”
“ Where are you going? ”
“ Where were you when it happened? ”
“ Where does this path lead? ”
“ Where did you get that scar? ”
“ Where is everyone else? ”
“ Where should I stand? ”
“ Where did you put the body? ”
“ Where were you hiding all this time? ”
when . . .
“ When did this start? ”
“ When were you going to tell me? ”
“ When was the last time you felt safe? ”
“ When do we leave? ”
“ When did you stop trusting me? ”
“ When does this end? ”
“ When did you realise the truth? ”
“ When do things go wrong? ”
“ When did you choose this path? ”
“ When will you look at me and be honest? ”
how . . .
“ How long have you been watching me? ”
“ How did you survive? ”
“ How much do you remember? ”
“ How are you this calm right now? ”
“ How bad is it? ”
“ How did you know my name? ”
“ How far are you willing to go? ”
“ How many lies have you told me? ”
“ How do you live with this? ”
“ How are we supposed to fix this? ”
are . . .
“ Are you human? ”
“ Are you okay? ”
“ Are you lying to me right now? ”
“ Are you scared? ”
“ Are you tired? ”
“ Are you hiding something? ”
“ Are you bound by oath or by magic? ”
“ Are you trying to start a fight? ”
“ Are you always this dramatic? ”
“ Are you going to explain or just stare? ”
do . . .
“ Do you trust me? ”
“ Do you remember your name? ”
“ Do you remember me? ”
“ Do you miss them? ”
“ Do you always talk this much? ”
“ Do you have any idea what you just did? ”
“ Do you ever sleep? ”
“ Do you want me to stay? ”
“ Do you think I’m stupid? ”
“ Do you believe in fate? ”
have . . .
“ Have you eaten yet? ”
“ Have we met before? ”
“ Have you been here long? ”
“ Have you done this before? ”
“ Have you ever killed someone? ”
“ Have you been lying to me? ”
“ Have you lost anyone? ”
“ Have you forgiven yourself? ”
“ Have you always been like this? ”
“ Have you already chosen a side? ”
is . . .
“ Is this place real? ”
“ Is something bothering you? ”
“ Is that weapon even legal here? ”
“ Is this your idea of a joke? ”
“ Is this your way of flirting? ”
“ Is someone watching us? ”
“ Is it supposed to hurt like this? ”
“ Is there a way out? ”
“ Is this what you wanted? ”
“ Is it too late to turn back? ”
can . . .
“ Can I ask you a weird question? ”
“ Can you hear that? ”
“ Can I trust you? ”
“ Can you keep a secret? ”
“ Can we slow down? ”
“ Can you help me bury a body? ”
“ Can you look at me? ”
“ Can we talk about what happened? ”
“ Can you stop pretending? ”
“ Can you promise me something? ”
will . . .
“ Will you stay with me? ”
“ Will you tell me the truth? ”
“ Will this ever end? ”
“ Will you protect me? ”
“ Will they come back for us? ”
“ Will you remember me? ”
“ Will you choose a side? ”
“ Will you regret this? ”
“ Will you still look at me the same way? ”
“ Will you stop me if I’m wrong? ”
should . . .
“ Should I be worried? ”
“ Should we be running? ”
“ Should I follow you? ”
“ Should I be afraid of you? ”
“ Should we pretend this never happened? ”
“ Should I stay or go? ”
“ Should I believe you? ”
“ Should I be honest with you? ”
“ Should we trust them? ”
“ Should I have come here? ”
would . . .
“ Would you do it again? ”
“ Would you lie to protect me? ”
“ Would this have been different if I had stayed? ”
“ Would you really let me die? ”
“ Would you have saved them instead? ”
“ Would you still care if you knew the truth? ”
“ Would you leave if I asked? ”
“ Would this hurt less if I understood? ”
“ Would you forgive me? ”
“ Would you choose me this time? ”
could . . .
“ Could you survive without me? ”
“ Could this world exist without you? ”
“ Could this get any worse? ”
“ Could you teach me how to do that? ”
“ Could you be wrong? ”
“ Could you be lying to yourself? ”
“ Could you forgive them? ”
“ Could this be a trap? ”
“ Could you handle the truth if I told you? ”
“ Could you live with the consequences? ”
Ariadne could be distant. Closed off. Walled off. Her proximity to people affected how loud the noise was in her head. With so many voices, so many thoughts brushing her mind, she had forgotten what her own inner-voice sounded like for a long time.
Enok helped her to find it again. He became an anchor. If she focused in on him, even the loudest thoroughfare blurred into background noise. With time she learned how to tune his inner-voice in while tuning others out. In doing so, she began to hear her own voice again.
So, when Enok asked her to paint a picture with her ideas? She didn't use her speaking voice.
Our home will be filled with the sounds of nature. Open windows. We will hear the wind and the waves. It will smell like family meals. Spices from bubbling pots, a warm hearth.
There will be no room safe from parchments. To read. To write. To paint. Our trinkets will be new and old. Discoveries from all the markets we have ever seen, and we will see many. Relics from long-forgotten ruins, to admire, to study, to donate.
It will be full of colour. And comfort... And Vergil will live nearby, but not so close that we're at war, close enough to establish our own territories.
Ariadne's chest shuddered then in silent laughter. Her hand, which had splayed on Enok's chest, delicately smoothed out the fur trim her fingernails had buried into.
He loved when Ariadne painted pictures. And he loved it even more, when she painted them into his mind. Enok closed his eyes – and it was like he could see their future home. As if he could actually be there. Walking through softly lit rooms. Feel the breeze, smell the food and touch the parchment littering wooden tables.
For a moment, he wanted to stay there – longer. He wanted to take it all in, make it a dream and wander it for a while. Juts a little while.
But Ariadne’s laughter was a good wake-up call, too. Opening his eyes, the smile on his face was almost immediate.
“Sounds just like I would have hoped.”, he replied, leaning closer, so he could bump their foreheads together gently, his arm holding around her.
“See… you aren’t alone. You don’t have to do anything alone. Don’t forget that, okay? If you doubt all else… please, never doubt me being at your side.”
Leon looked the kid over. Ari..? He almost pulled a smile, almost. No matter what he did in his lifetime, nothing would ever top this in terms of having girl troubles. He felt empathy for Enok. Truly. He thought he had it bad with his breakup just before his departure for Raccoon City.
But he hadn't been a teenager trying to impress a crush, a friend, a girlfriend? If he had a say in it, this would be a gesture Enok could one day shake his head and chuckle about. He was going to make it out. He had to.
"You have to place in three special keys. To get the keys, you have to find the statues and put in the right code. Whoever came up with this security system is a psychopath." Leon commented lightly.
Then Enok kept talking.
He blinked and turned to fully face him again. "... consider it more like a last hope." When he phrased it like that, it sounded dire. Because it was. He smiled weakly. "When I arrived here, one of the last Officers was trying to get to this place. It's a way out. If it's really connected to this locked door, well, there shouldn't be any undead for a stretch down there. It's too isolated. But when we come back up, we'll be out on another street."
As for supplies...
Leon nodded to the reception desk in the lobby. "Take whatever you think'll be useful. Just be careful not to weigh yourself down."
What the fuck. What the fuck fuck fuck. What the fuckity fuck.
That was all that repeated in Enok’s head as Leon started to dish out the answers.
“This security system is nuts…”, he mumbled, agreeing as he made his way over to the reception desk. At least that gave him a chance to be distracted. Because Leon calling the… creatures outside “undead” was something that tried to pop up into Enok’s head every splitsecond. And he wasn’t sure he was ready for that.
Enok really had no idea what he was packing. A lot of dry snacks and water bottles as it looked. He wasn’t happy with his proviants, clearly by the expression on his face as he trotted back to Leon. He really didn’t want to be alone here. Of course he would follow the cop, even if he wasn’t really a cop yet… right?
“So… only one key is missing yet? The maiden statue one? Where do we get it? How can I help?”
How can we get out of this as fast as possible?
It's not my arms that will fail me But this world takes more strength than it gave me The trees deny themselves nothing that makes them grow No rain fall, no sunshine No blood upon the snow
Leander could feel the distrust. Who could blame the kid, really? He only knew the stories and what he had seen with his own eyes. Unfortunately it was a case of the stories not doing justice to the truth — Emmanuel's chained soldiers were lower on the heirarchy than attack hounds.
Still, even if he felt for the kid, felt guilty, felt like he owed him a better life... he had a job to do. And he couldn't exactly force the other to join him.
At least in giving his hunting knife, he knew that he had some protection if he chose to run off like the others.
"Right. The camp and its supplies are yours to do with what you will. You are free. You can make your own choice, if you come with me I will guarantee a hot meal and a warm bedroll back at my camp. If you don't come with me, we part ways peacefully." He hoped. What was the point of saving his ass twice otherwise??
The quiet was tense – but the words the Lucian spoke made Enok blink in surprise.
You are free.
…what?
He had expected all different kinds of reactions. The Lucian demanding his obedience above all. Because after all, he had… killed his old masters. So, wasn’t it just and right that he take him as new lackey? Wasn’t this how the world worked?
You can make your own choice.
Enok searched the other’s eyes for any kind of malice, any sarcasm, any cruel joking. But… there was nothing of that kind. Slowly, his tensed muscles relaxed. Slowly, he straightened his back as his eyes widened just a little.
He had imagined being free so often, that he had built up expectations to this moment that now… just didn’t turn true. He had expected it to feel… different. Triumph, relief, happiness… but he had also always imagined Noak and the few friends he had to be there. Now… he stood alone in a bloodied camp of dead witchhunters across from a Lucian.
And there was… nothing.
Move. Always move.
One of the lessons of his mentor. So, Enok did just that.
I can make it home…
He gathered his own things, replaced torn and thin blankets with thick and sturdy ones. He kept the knife. The Lucian had given it to him freely. An axe. A crossbow. Food, real food. Some of it Enok stuffed right into his mouth without a second thought. The rest was packed so rightly into his bag, it as far too much, but years of nothing made him greedy now.
He could see the Lucian making to leave – and that was when Enok followed him. Quickening his steps, there was a pull in his chest. He didn’t know where he really was. And he only knew one goal.
“Where do you- you are a Lucian. My home belongs to your kingdom... where is Galahd? Where do I have to go? Which way to walk?”
Leander's question was quickly answered. Though he wasn't the one who paid in blood — he turned towards the sounds of the scuffle, the angry grunt, and he watched the soldier cut the boy who had already saved his ass once.
Anger thundered across his face.
The soldier raised his arm again — and Leander planted his sandaled foot on the head of the soldiers fallen brother, retrieving the spear with swiftness placed before a precise throw. When he warped, he warped bodily into the soldier and rolled away with him.
Their scuffle was a series of quick movements. Leander disarmed him. The soldier moved to unsheathe a short knife. He got punched in the face, pummelled, again and again until he was dazed enough for Leander to pull his own knife on him. It was another swift death. No drawn out taunts or demands for answers or humiliation rituals.
Breathing out hard from the exertion, Leander sank back briefly. Rested on his haunches for but a moment. Then he sprung up again to hurry to the boy.
"Let me see — I know, it's a terrible hurt — I just need to know what we're dealing with." He tried to coax the boy to show him the cut. Whether it was a reflex of following orders, he did not know, but when the boy revealed the damage done to him Leander reacted with a hissed breath through his teeth.
"That's going to sting. But you'll live another day, or year, or decade — wouldn't recommend a century." He tipped his head and offered a gentle pat to the boy's shoulder. "Remember. You're allowed to scream, you're allowed to cry, but do not give up." Then he offered his hand to help him up off the ground.
Right. Weapons. Leander used the soldier's own clothing to clean his spear before it dissippated into the air. Then his sword, that one remained on his person, along with... ah. The hunting knife. He tested its weight and turned to the boy. "I can see they've given you the shit metal. Are you good with a blade?" he questioned, flipping the knife around to offer the leather grip to the boy.
This was a prized hunting knife. Oiled and sharpened. He had bound the grip himself. It was one of his favourites.
Enok was hesitant in everything he was doing. He let this man see his wound, he let him talk him up, he let him touch him – and yet all Enok did was stare. Stare with his right eye blinking against the droplets of blood that had found their way into it. Ignoring the seering pain.
He looked to the offered knife, as if he didn’t trust the offer at all. Why should he?
They were enemies, weren’t they? Enok knew Emmanuel had ordered the knights and the chained soldiers here to impede the Mystic and his warriors. He had also been made aware that the Lucians would likely be his end… he was to be thrown to the wolves.
And now one of these wolves stood in front of him and just-so offered a knife to him after saving him from the ones who had told him he’d be fodder.
And there was a lightning strike of a reflex running through his body.
Kill him. Grab the knife, lunge forward. Drive it into his stomach. Do it. Now.
It was the instincts whipped into his head during years of conditioning under the witchhunter king’s rule. But… he had not been alone. Noak’s words had always balanced that cold cruelty out.
Running his hand and arm over the cut on his face defiantly, Enok then grabbed for the knife and drew it closer, looking at it almost curiously. Though his eyes quickly landed back on the Lucian. As if he expected the other to just seek a reason to attack him now that he was armed.
A curt nod and a careful hunched posture, as if Enok was still ready to bail away at any moment was the Lucian’s answer. He wouldn’t scream or cry – he wouldn’t even dare to open his mouth. Not when he could still see the corpses of the elite soldiers this man had just mowed down as if it was nothing. He was powerful. More powerful than anyone Enok had ever seen before. Of course, he knew how to wield a blade… but he also knew he would stand no chance against this man.
What now?
Leander would have loved a better vantage point but he would have to make-do with the voices. Two men were talking... a third commented... his eyes shifted to the young man in front of him. He was trying to urge him to run.
Instead he held up three of his fingers. "How many?" he whisper-asked, adding a fourth finger when the boy shook his head. The lack of answer was his answer. His head tipped and he waved the fingers. Four-against-one? Sure.
His lips split into a grin. "They'll have to catch me first."
The soldier pushed to stand with a stretch. No time to cramp up! One twist, two twist, and he held his hand out to grab a spear that had not been there a moment before. It appeared in a flash of brilliant, shimmering blue and Leander aimed it up high. When he loosed it above the camp, its shadow was quite unremarkable, one would have to be actively looking up to have caught the strange movement. It never had the chance to fall back to the ground to alert them. Leander warped to the mystical weapon and his was a remarkable shadow indeed.
Looking up to the Lucian soldier? That had been part of the strategy. The sun was against his back, casting a magnificent glare. In those mere seconds of confusion, Leander was able to map out the deaths of the men in metal.
Again the spear was thrown, piercing the eye socket of one of the soldiers. Though Leander didn't warp to the weapon this time, he dropped down with his full weight and hunting knife, plunging the blade through the second soldiers neck. Lodged too deep. Too slow to retrieve for his flurry of surprise attacks, he left it, opting to draw his shortsword and throw it in a direct path for the third soldier, followed through with a warp-strike to drive the weapon through an unfortunate-for-him but fortunate-for-Leander gap in his plate armour. Three dead in terrifyingly quick succession. He hoped a quick bowing gesture to the chained soldiers might spare a fight — this wasn't their fight, it was their oppressors fight, and in the abscence of any oppressors... But where was this fourth metal soldier..?
Enok had not gotten the time to shake his head again, to even guess what this man was up too. Because this was insane. The moment the Lucian made a spear appear from thin air, though, was when Enok startled back a little. His blue eyes widened to watch the show that unfolded right in front of him – and the other chained soldiers.
It was like a terrifying dance of death. The Lucian was inhumanely fast. Using magic and his weapons in such a mesmerizing way…
Some of the chained soldiers realized their chance. Surprise quickly turning to hope when they simply turned around and ran for their lives. An attacker mowing down Emmanuel’s loyalists meant a chance of freedom.
Enok glanced to them, to this chance, too. But… his body couldn’t just get up and run. He couldn’t. Because what the Lucian did petrified him the same as it caught all his attention. He was brave. And so… flawless in what he did.
Almost too perfect. Almost. The movement came from Enok’s periphery. The fourth soldier raising a blade high to slash across the Lucian’s back. And Enok’s legs launched him forward instead of back. Arms thrown wide, crashing against the soldier and much like the Lucian before, he rammed him back. Off his feet, away from the magic one.
That was the second time he had saved this man today, wasn’t it?
But while the first time had been a little stupid, this action was outright foolish. The soldier’s grunt was loud – and angry. He crashed to the ground alongside Enok, his eyes full of ire. And he still held onto his blade.
Enok only saw his mistake for a splitsecond, because in the next moment this same blade and fist lashed across his own face. Howling out, Enok fell back and curled up, covering his face with both hands. It hurt. Everything hurt. His jaw, his cheek, where a bloody gash split open. His eye, where blood stung in it. His utter fear and anticipation of certain death.
Because Enok had let go of the soldier. And why wouldn’t he kill him now...?