Remi always hated the statue erected in the heart of the city, city square. It was dark and metallic, icy to the touch and hideous to look at. From a thick, scaly neck sprouted eight feline heads with their abnormally long fangs bared and devilish eyes slanted downwards as they glinted with bloodlust. Each head was more ferocious than the next, built onto a massive body of metal at least four men high, rippling with frozen muscles.
The terrifying creature was called a Doomtaur, and it was something of legend. It also happened to be the symbol of an island free from monarchy, representing the freedom to commit any act, no matter how depraved or brutal it may be—because there was no one to prevent it. Every island aside from Vertice and Belley had a sculpture of this beast on display for all to see.
Remi couldn't stand any of what it represented. Without limitations, one's freedom often came at the cost of another, and that wasn't freedom for all.
And now, she was standing atop the Doomtaur.
With startled sets of eyes on her person. She was noticed by only a few people nearby at first, but they had a domino effect consisting of elbowing and pointing and shouting, until countless sets of wide eyes were on Remi.
The last time she had visited the busiest part of Merricrest was with her older sister Faye and her cousin Caede, when she was out searching for Killure. They hadn't stayed for long because Faye was in a rush to get to her fiancé's estate.
Both her sister and cousin were now dead, by her Uncle Fahrem's hand. Remi's heart clenched in her chest at the thought, as though an invisible hand had reached within her and squeezed her beating heart painfully tight.
It didn't help that she had the attention of all these people in the city square.
The amount of people looking at her was almost unbearable. Though she was standing far above everyone with nothing but open air around her, out of reach, the crowd's eyes felt like claws that were seconds away from ripping into her flesh and tearing her to pieces. Beads of sweat formed at Remi's hairline as she tried to focus on why she was here and not on the almost intolerable feeling of bugs crawling beneath her skin.
Lounging casually beside her on the metallic creature, legs crossed as he leaned back and let his head fall back, Killure seemed at peace. Only the flicking of his ebony, reptilian-esque tail revealed his boredom. Remi couldn't help but be a little jealous; if only she was that at ease in front of crowds.
She felt jittery and like each one of her nerves was ricocheting within her body.
A strong, warm hand grasped her own, instantly absorbing her focus. Remi's eyes shot to Killure, who had grabbed her small hand with his large, clawed one. The sharp points of his claws pricked the skin of the back of her hand, and the sensation somehow brought her to focus.
Remi narrowed her eyes at the crowd and plastered on an expression that she hoped made her appear fearless and in control.
"Designer," was the word on every man and woman's lips, spat out in a hiss but filled with greedy desire.
Aside from her Uncle Shaam, the infamous drug lord who few dared to mess with and who wasn't for hire, there hadn't been a Designer to do business with for weeks. Remi could only imagine what was going through the minds of lords and ladies, dukes and duchesses alike: who would extend their lives, cure their incurable diseases, and bring their dead back to life, among other things? Without a Designer, one could have all the money in the world and still not be able to buy the things that mattered.
And now, the sighting of a Designer was throwing everyone into an uproar. They all wanted a piece of her, and without her family to protect her, there was nothing holding any of them back from taking her and forcing her to do their bidding.
Nothing, aside from a gigantic, unclimbable statue and the Icix to her right.
I can do this, Remi growled silently in her mind.
Throwing both her arms straight up, fingers splayed apart, Remi sent ten bolts of blue energy spiralling high into the sky. They spun in deathly-sharp tendrils, catching the crowd's attention as the crowd stared with their necks craned upwards in surprise.
A momentary hush fell over the crowd. Knowing it wouldn't last long, Remi seized the moment.
Her voice came out so much stronger than she was feeling, projecting across city square like never before: "One of you took someone that belongs to me," she began boldly, a familiar heat beginning to simmer inside her chest. "And surprise, surprise! I want him back. I am willing to pay whatever price is desired for his safe return. If you have him, or information that may help me find him, use my Uncle Shaam to get into contact with me. That's all."
Remi took a sarcastic bow.
Coming out of their state of momentary shock, mixed reactions began flooding the faces of the people in the crowd. Voices jumbled together in a blur that hurt Remi's ears to listen to. Anger, confusion, lust, desire, and surprise revealed itself in various states of potency in the crowd in a chaotic mess.
And then nearly all began thinking in the same way. Men rushed over to a nearby construction site where the shattered window of an upper floor was just beginning to be repaired by a slave girl on a ladder. Jagged shards of window clawed up from the inside sides of the window frame.
Without a thought for the girl's life, a group of strong men ripped the ladder out from beneath her and began running with it towards the metallic beast Remi stood upon.
Though the slave girl was a Clawl, a species known for their nimbleness and remarkable ability to balance on just about anything, there was nothing for her to grab other than the broken shards of glass jutting up from the broken window.
The girl screamed desperately as the glass cut straight through her hands and broke off under the weight of her body. She flailed her arms, legs, and tail as she fell to the ground far below, landing with a sickening splat that not a single person cared to notice.
Other than Remi, who was in shock at their cruelty and felt ready to hurl. This is my fault.
She quickly turned to Killure and squeezed his hand as she nodded. He pursed his lips and slowly got to his feet, despite the fact that the crowd was rapidly ascending the ladder to their position, desperate to have them both in their greedy hands.
"Clever," Killure commented.
Remi could barely process what he was saying. "W-What?"
He raised a dark eyebrow, the blue in his eyes cold and dark like the ocean on a serene, cloudy night. "Not telling them exactly who you are looking for, in order to avoid letting them all know that there's a Designer out there for grabs."
"The... the person who has him will... understand," Remi managed to get out. The ever-approaching mass of people was overwhelming, and it was becoming hard to breath. With each breath becoming more short and rapid, she felt dizzy and ready to pass out.
A Conda at the top of the ladder leapt forward, snatching at Remi's ankle. She screeched as she kicked him in the face and jumped back, eyes as wide as saucers. The man fell a few rungs down the ladder, but was otherwise undeterred. He went straight back to climbing, the terrifying look in his eyes now even more determined.
Just as the crowd began pouring on the platform, Remi was scooped into a pair of strong arms and lifted from the platform into the air, out of their reach.
Those of the crowd who had managed to get onto the Doomtaur statue shook their fists at her and stared her down with furious glares. The rest of the crowd didn't look any different as they shouted angry, hateful words in her and Killure's direction.
Killure's hot breath fanned her ear, making her body shiver in delight until it heard what he had to say. "Surely you aren't still surprised by their disregard for any life other than their own. This, which you consider to be brutality, can no longer be called by such a word."
Remi clenched her jaw and ground her teeth together. "What would it be called, then?"
"Normal," he hissed back unashamedly.
———
Meanwhile, in Merricrest's city square, a tall man with arms resembling tree trunks, rippling with muscles, jabbed a thick thumb in the direction of a poster on the wall. "Get me that!" he snarled, furious at failing to snatch the Designer girl.
They were the ones who had thought quickly and grabbed the ladder in order to get on top of the Doomtaur statue, and yet it still wasn't enough.
"Here, Jace," one of his men muttered, holding out the poster. His voice was raw and scratchy, as if every time he spoke was a constant battle to wrench his voice from the depths of his throat and scrape it along the sides of his larynx until it hit his tongue and he could form words. All his men sounded that way because of what they were.
With the single eye in the center of his face, Jace scanned the crude strokes of paint that painted the face on the poster. A slight breeze ruffled his greying hair.
There she was, all green eyes, strawberry blonde hair, and delicate facial features that Jace couldn't wait to get his hands on and break. "The girl in the square is the same girl on these WANTED posters—Remi Goldridge."
"The one who had Lord Gallanthus killed?" one of his men asked.
"I heard she jumped into a burning building and tried to kill herself," another added.
"After her family disappeared, Merricrest was left in mass chaos!"
"The one and only," Jace threw his head up and down in an abrupt nod, kicking a stone on the dusty ground and watching it disappear beneath a multitude of moving legs. "She's somewhere on Merricrest, and we're going to find her."
"To hand her over and get the massive reward on her poster?"
"No," Jace's single eye shone with greedy desire. "To take her for ourselves and use her powers to control all of Merricrest." He screwed his face up in a snarl. "Go, send your spies all over town and gather whatever intel you can."
His men immediately nodded and turned away to go obey his order. The sight of their blue skin made Jace wrinkle his nose and curl down his lips in disgust. Before they could go, he added something else. "One more thing."
His men looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to expand. "The Icix that was with her? I want a poster with his face plastered all over town, as well. Offer a significant reward for his head if brought to me on a silver platter."
An Icix was a monster, but so were his men. Jace hand-picked all his men for what they were--Razors. Razors were a type of Carnean that came from the sea and had rows upon rows of teeth, with the appearance of a humanoid shark. Their skin ranged from light blue to dark blue and was so thick that it was extremely hard to penetrate, even with something sharp like a blade. They were also extremely strong, and Jace was betting on them being able to do some serious damage. At least, they'd better--considering how much he paid for them.
"Yes sir," they chorused, before scattering to hunt for the Designer and her Icix, their manic grins bloodthirsty.