With each passing second, we drew ever closer to Crumbled Watch. We had been travelling for a while, and thankfully, the remnant castle lay much closer to the Wharf than the Mirrorlake. Even so, my stamina - or rather, the apparent lack thereof - was catching up to me. There was a nagging discomfort running through my body, burning muscles aching for minutes at a time before subsiding briefly.
Yet, I would bear the burden on my shoulders.
If Adelaide and I were to falter in our journey, all we knew would be lost.
The ensuing calamity's damage would be irreversible, and the island, with all the vast riches stowed away in the soil, would become a part of the Bloodmoon Bandits' blood-soaked emporium across the Thirteenth Sea - of that, I was confident.
For some time now, Adelaide and I have been jogging down Conquest Road, a treacherous road across the foothills that would eventually mouth out in the Sacred Mountains and Storm's Waltz. Both areas were off-limits for common folk and elitists alike.
I recalled Father's repeated warnings about the dangers within Storm's Waltz - a simple visit had killed his adventurous spirit long ago. It wasn't a surprising result; the death of his fellowship still haunted him to this day.
Adelaide stopped dead in her tracks, startled.
The sudden halt snapped me out of my head; I nearly bumped into her.
She turned around, "Cynthia," she called out softly, immediately grappling onto my waist and launching us both off the beaten path straight into the bushes.
"Ow," It was a rough landing, with branches scratching across my arms and face.
The yelp rewarded me a swift, unapologetic glare and a hushed, "Shh, they're out there."
She motioned me closer.
I crawled near the edge of the leaves, spotting torches bobbing up and down the road, illuminating the outlines of a handful of people. I noticed the garments. The individuals in question wore tailcoats, girdles and belts with scabbards mounted on their hips.
"How many do you see?" Inquired Adelaide.
"Three," rang my answer.
"Strain your eyes against the dark, Cynthia," she disagreed, "Count again."
I squinted, intently observing the silhouettes. My eyes were frantically scanning around for any trace of enemy forces. I shook my head in dismay, on the verge of giving up, when I noticed a shift in the shadows across the road. I caught a glimpse of two archers cautiously trailing the group whilst another scouted the area ahead.
"Six," I corrected myself.
"Excellent. Now let's gut these bastards before they run into more sentries."
"Adelai-" I was about to object when Adelaide got up, drawing her hip-bound daggers.
The seething rage she held at heart was unleashed.
She did not care for a tactical approach, no.
Adelaide rushed in, running up, blades at hand, immediately jumping the tallest of the bunch, plunging both daggers firmly into the man's neck simultaneously.
The others surrounded her as I closed the distance, none paying me any mind, being entirely occupied by a vengeful Adelaide.
She yanked out the steel blades one at a time, disengaging their scarlet kiss in a flow of motions, trailed by a stream of crimson running down the man's neck as he collapsed onto the ground, becoming no more than a speck of land amongst a shallow sea of his own blood.
YOU ARE READING
Arcanae
Fantasy" 𝐔𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 " In an oceanic realm littered with traces of Magick, Crescent Isle had always been the odd one out. For aeons on end, it had been sheltered from the remainder of the world, seemingly as though an enormous in...
