The Old City

0.11: Collateral Damage

At the same time, between the docks and the eastern stronghold of the Black Phoenix...

"Marcus, wait!" Seneca sprinted after his friend through the thinning streets. The grey light of overcast morning bestowed a still atmosphere upon the city. The crashing and bellows ahead tore through the otherwise peaceful scene. "You can't stop them. Just wait for the fight to end."

Marcus shouted without turning. "They're tearin' apart our city! HOW COULD I WAIT?"

At their pace, it didn't take long to find the first signs of conflict. The bystanders faded as they sped forward and eventually they disappeared altogether. They split up to search for survivors or combatants.

On the right, the second floor of a tattered three-story building was missing, blown away by some agent of chaos who was even further ahead. Part of a roof lay in tatters in the street. This block was lit more harshly than the rest of the city; debris lay strewn about, much of it on fire.

"Seneca!"

He spun around to see Marcus being crushed by a falling wall, his arms outstretched to hold as much of the structure as he could. But the driftwood, concrete, and glass were poorly made and shoddily maintained. Cracks were forming and pieces crumbled to the ground. Seneca climbed over the nearby rubble and saw two children cowering beneath his friend.

"Get them out!"

Seneca surveyed the area. The wall wouldn't last long and if he couldn't arrange support, they would all be crushed. One of the children's legs was stuck under detritus and she couldn't move. The other was hysterical, crying and hyperventilating so heavily he would pass out any moment. Marcus's aura had flared when he caught the wall, but it couldn't keep all the crumbling pieces at bay. Even with his sturdy body, he would die if the entire thing fell directly on top of him. He couldn't move without hurting the kids. There were no poles, no large enough rocks, nothing Seneca could use to buy time.

He was frozen. Every decision led to someone dying. If he saved the kids, Marcus would get crushed. If he lifted the rubble off the kid's leg, Marcus and the other child wouldn't have enough time to escape.

"Seneca! WAKE UP!"

Marcus's expression was not one of panic. It showed urgency and the raw belief that Seneca would find the right way forward. With renewed focus, Seneca brought his hands together and closed his eyes.

The magic will come this time...

He felt that familiar flutter inside and the words came forward. "Sareo Manenta!" He punched both fists against the wall and locked them in place with a twist.

"Run," he said.

Marcus stared at Seneca and the wall – it wasn't falling anymore. Seneca's spell held it frozen, but Marcus didn't wait to see how long it would last. He lifted the rock off the girl's leg then scooped her and the boy into his arms. With a grateful look to Seneca, Marcus jumped to safety and dropped the kids off.

He turned but before he knew it, Seneca was next to him again, bent over with exhaustion.

After a few moments to catch his breath, Seneca rose and felt relief flood over him. He smiled at Marcus but before he could say anything, another voice rang through the street.

"You there! Get away from those kids."

A group of Enforcers marched toward them, swords and chests out. Their grey uniforms had only the slightest variation in the yellow and purple epaulettes. The man in front had shouted and the eyes with which he stared down Marcus were venom.

"Are you deaf? Get away from those kids, vagrant."

Panting, Marcus complied, though the kids also shied away from the uniformed men. The speaker gave orders and his men began to spread out, positioning themselves between them and the fighting. The children were in their way and one of the Enforces shoved them to the ground to clear space.

"What the Hell are you doin'? These people need help. Those buildings are about to collapse and kids are still inside. The battle is just a few blocks that way. Why are you just standin' there like idiots?! I can't stop them all by myself, I need your help if we want to keep them from wreckin' the city."

"What's your name, peasant?" the Enforcer barked.

Marcus stiffened at the cold in his voice. "You have a job to do."

"You're in no position to tell me what my job is, vermin. Go back the way you came and maybe I have my men arrest you for interferin' with the Enforcers or abductin' children."

"Are you gonna stop them? Are you gonna help these people?"

One of the man's lackeys pulled out a baton and tapped it against his palm menacingly. Even as he tried to intimidate them, screams could be heard in the direction of the fighting.

Seneca grabbed Marcus's tensed forearm. "We were just on our way," he said, making an effort to nod meekly.

"Are they gonna ignore all this?" Marcus whispered.

"Obviously! But we won't. Just follow me."

"You and I could take them."

"We can't though. Not without our names and faces plastered over Soran and not with reinforcements five minutes away. Be patient and follow me."

Marcus's mouth curled into what might be described as a smile and turned south. It felt wrong, but he had always trusted Seneca. He kept the Enforcers in view as they retreated. They weren't doing anything. They just set up a blockade to prevent others from joining the fight and keep the damage in one area.

"Is that all they're good for?"

Seneca shrugged as he turned the corner and began to navigate labyrinthine backroads. "I didn't realize until I enlisted, but the First Ring's Enforcers aren't that strong. They've got weapons and numbers, but the scary thing is when they call reinforcements from the Second or Third Rings. We have to avoid that at all costs."

"Useless pieces of shit."

"They care if we mess with a merchant or someone higher up, but as long as we kill ourselves, they couldn't care less."

Seneca stopped in the middle of the narrowest alley yet and opened a door on his right. It led to a dark, cramped room with one lamp and an ice box. It was an eerie room that shouldn't have been there and shouldn't have looked like this.

"Where are we?"

"Not all its entrances are manholes," Seneca replied as he lifted the door on the ice box. Marcus glanced inside and saw ice and meat. Seneca moved the contents around to show a latch. He pulled it back to reveal a ladder descending darkly below. "Welcome back to the Underground."