A Knight's Lilies

Act 8 Chapter 15: Ripples In The Shadows



“One of the more curious phenomenoms of the Councilium Pacis during era of ‘The Moonlight Peace’ that has since lasted until this day is the almost excessive reguluation of magic and arcane usage throughout Cyndralia. Established as precedent by monitor orgainisations in both the human and elven realms, magic found itself incredibly constrained and subject to intense scrutiny ever since then. While rogue wizards and mages often do break away, many are put down so violently that it is thought to have generally disuaded most away from such a foolish endeavour. Still, there are breakaways, if you’re still intent on pursuing this path. Don’t say I didn’t warn you when the templars come for your head.”

- Magos Weslard Hoffman, Mage of the Silver Gold Tower, “Discussion with a rogue mage”

Chilled halls and quiet whispers echoed across the showroom. The hushed mutterings directed at the new arrivals, the old, the world around them. The sense of disdain coursing through the air like a dark omen, foreboding yet uncertain. Two elves, distinctly dressed in Academy robes entertained more dignified crowds with conversation. Their manner of speech was direct, yet just vague enough to mask the full scope of their desires.

A soft, musty scent infiltrated the area despite the immaculate nature of the exhibits. Bones of creatures long forgotten, woodland decor from realms afar, even the knightly mail of nations beyond the known seas. Bright white arctic creatures and the scale skin of reptilian monstrosities sat unmoving. Every part flowed impeccably into creating the greater whole that was the museum of Arteria. All of which made Sophia even more uneasy.

The half elf leaned against a pillar, only after she had checked multiple times to ensure that she wasn’t leaning on a relic of some lost civilization. Not that she cared, she just didn’t want to embarrass her allies. Or so she told herself.

Though her form was unmoving, as if joined with the structure itself, her eyes maintained a careful vigil over the two elven siblings. Occasionally her ears would twitch, having caught a stray word or another, or perhaps even sounds in the distance. But every time, she would find herself focusing back onto them.

She had volunteered to join them originally under the premise that she would help them converse with potential allies. Not that they needed the help. Nor was she expecting Sophie of all people, to somehow believe her. They’re not that awkward. Unlike you. She scoffed at the original’s strangeness but brushed it aside. She was here to protect the siblings. For a part of her could sense something amiss. As if the shadows had cried out at a disturbance not of her own. That was what worried her.

Despite the trials of the recent months, she had not forgotten to tap into the powers granted to her by The Mistress of Shadows. Though only a fraction of dark divinity compared to that of a priest, cleric, or even worshipper, it was even to keep her abreast of matters both foul and strange. Another aspect of the original that happened to irk her even more. That Sophie did not utilize more of her void given gifts. A shame.

She grunted and narrowed her eyes. All thoughts of Sophie brushed aside when she felt the eerily familiar pulsing. Like a splash rippling outwards, someone was travelling via the shadows. Someone not her. That did not bode well for anyone.

Her hands automatically lowered to her weapons, a fierce grip over her dagger, ready to launch it at a moment’s notice. In her other hand, her fingers danced over the hilt of her shortsword. Anxious, but not foolish enough to draw without identifying a target.

She was cognizant of the fact that at present, she was merely a guest for the siblings, nothing more. In fact, she didn’t really know why she was so much more on edge than she usually was. Around the museum were also a few guards. Some security provided by the redcloaks of the city, and a handful of private ones likely hired by the museum or even the elven quarter themselves. Even if an assassin or saboteurs were here, the guards should be able to handle them. There were even one or two elvish warriors on patrol.

So why… she furrowed her brows, her eyes looking upwards and meeting the curious gaze of Maylesa. Do I feel like… she saw the ripple in the back of her mind, a quiver, hidden, restrained, but there. Troubles here? It was but a flash, a glint of light reflecting off of something metallic.

Her mind instantly emptied, replaced by base instinct and the constant calculations she needed to fulfill her current objective. Keep the siblings alive.

Before she even knew what she was doing, her left hand hurled the dagger forward.

Clang.

The tip of the dagger barely intercepted the projectile, a longer, more suitable for throwing, dagger that was shooting straight for the crowd.

The echo that followed. The clattering of the two daggers as they landed harmlessly on the cold marble ground. A resounding note that silenced any conversation. Across the museum, only the occasional breath could be heard. Not a soul moved, though all the guards had already readied for battle.

Sophia was poised to act, both hands now on the hilt of the shortsword, her legs arched forward, ready to spring forth as more eyes landed upon her. But she had no time for them. Her eyes searched for the assailant, one still hidden from sight. Where?

From the darkness to her right, a glint of steel. There!

“Assassin! There!” She shouted out loud. Ruining her own element of surprise.

With the silence now shattered, the world seemed to begin moving with a renewed urgency. A deafening flurry of noise accompanied the increasingly panicked flight and engagement.

Guards rushed forward on the attack, placing themselves between the guests and the purported location of the assassin. Three rushed towards Sophia, judging her as a potential threat despite the warning. The last few including the elves tried to usher the guests out.

“There!” A guard bellowed as the sounds of blades clashing began ringing out.

Sophia almost felt some modicum of relief at having tied up the assassin when she saw two more figures sulking about behind some of the exhibits. More than one? Damn!

“Look out!” She called out, unwittingly prompting the guards near her to advance at her.

“Mam, please. Take your hand off your weapon.” One gruff voiced soldier commanded. Dammit!

Thankfully, Thalnor and Maylesa seemed to have heeded her belayed warning and moved towards the now fleeing crowd. Their arrival prompted the two elven warriors to take up a defensive position behind the end of the group, cutting off the most direct means of approach from the assassins. Sophia could barely see the blurs which descended upon the warriors, but true to the snide remarks and rumors of elven superiority, the soldiers fought back in stride, their own forms matching that of the assassins.

Surprised by this most recent bout of violence, the guards around her briefly turned to assess the situation. Unlike their elven counterparts, the humans remained slower to respond. Sophia used this to her advantage and slipped inbetween the gruff guard and a bulkier one.

“Hey!” The gruff soldier called out. But he was too slow.

Hands grabbed at her but she was already travelling parallel to the escaping crowd, keeping an eye out for other assassins. Her eyes darted upwards and found one last shadow shifting above the doorway.

In the blink of an eye, she drew and hurled her shortsword towards the figure. Whether it hit, missed, or simply fell mattered little. All she wanted to do was taunt the figure and draw attention to it. An act she accomplished with flying marks.

She felt an intense wave of malice directed at her, the hatred coalescing into something akin to a fist. Her throat dried as her chest tightened, the uncomfortable expectation of violence and pain to come heightening ever more. Then it lashed out. Like a punch into her gut, she balled up to duck as the assassin was momentarily drawn in by their own bloodlust. The assailant launched themselves at her and just missed by a hair’s width. A sickeningly sweet perfumed scent brushing over her.

She hastily scrambled to her feet, battle ready though unarmed. The last of the guests were almost away, she needed to buy a little more time.

Thankfully, the guards chasing her caught up, the heavy thuds of their boots on the marbled floors startling the assassin. Unlike the guards however, this only spurred them on as they engaged in a rapid assault.

Sophia jumped backwards to avoid a slash, stepping backwards to dodge yet another, then pivoting to prevent another. The assassin was unrelenting, dashing forward to catch up even as the guards finally started reacting. Sophia ducked under another swing, merely thankful that aside from her own skill, her body had been gifted the latent swiftness present in the original. At that moment, one of the guards launched his own attack, the taller of the soldiers jabbing at the assassin.

Following her eyes, the assassin quickly turned around to deflect the strike. Spinning nistead to launch his own attack and stabbing directly into the unarmoured bit underneath the soldier’s armpit. The blade entered and crippled the man, the soldier letting out a pained gasp. The assassin removed their weapon quickly enough, blood now splattering across the front of their black robes as the guard croaked his last.

The gruff guard retaliated in kind, thrusting his own spear at the attacker. It forced the assassin back and within Sophia’s grasp. Seizing the opportunity given to her, she delivered a swift kick to the back of the assassin’s knees. Caught off guard, they collapsed and tried to recover, only for a spear to viciously plunge through his skull. Bone and blood splattered across Sophia as the spear was pulled back, tearing out some bloodied chunks of grey matter with it.

The assassin turned to face her with more hate in their eyes. Their dying moments spent glaring at her until their strength left them and they slowly started collapsing. As they landed in a heap and the guard readied himself for more combat, Sophia muttered a soft apology and darted away from him.

Looking around, she found that the soldiers here were far more competent than expected. Though they had suffered one or two casualties, the assassins had been all but subdued. Sophia stayed low as she sprinted for the exit, trying to keep up with the siblings who were now likely outside the building.

Someone knew what we were doing? Possible, but unlikely, she mused as she snuck through a gap between the guards, merging into the last of the crowd headed outside.

Could we have been watched? She frowned as the panicked guests escaping only served to cause more chaos out in the streets. With more and more redcloaks approaching to help secure the area, she needed to not be caught up in this. Definitely possible. They could’ve been watching Sophie since the start. But to escalate to this?

“Sophia?”

“Sophia!”

Two distinctive voices called out from the street.

A traitor? Her eyes briefly shut as she tried to picture everyone’s expressions and faces. There had been an earnestness about their attempt at a plan. Nor did she sense anything beyond hesitation or reluctance from anyone. No, I doubt we were betrayed. But…

“Sophia! Over here!”

Thalnor spotted her first.

Sophia grunted at them, though she doubted the siblings could hear her through the commotion. How did they know to follow us? They must’ve had someone tailing us for sure. And why bother trying to stop us?

Panicked guests were now joined by panicked citizens as more and more people realized that if the guards were getting involved, then something serious was happening. With the density of the crowd, Sophia could only grumble as she realized there was no longer any way that she could accurately sense any potential assailants.

“Sophia!” Maylesa joined her brother’s cries.

“Here!” Sophia finally responded, making her way past the throng of people.

She pushed and shoved the crowd aside, trying her best to continue her advance without being stopped.

“Here!” She reiterated her acknowledgments.

As the trio reunited in the streets, Sophia cast one last look back towards the museum, a sinking feeling rising within her. Shadows be damned, they attacked us in the museum. A low scowl etched itself onto her cheeks as the three then began heading directly back to the Academy piers, the half elf keeping an ever vigilant gaze above and behind them. Just what are they after? To disrupt our plans? But the've barely even started.

Sophia immediately knew something was wrong when she found Elaria and Raylani also at the pier. She and the Calnodel siblings had retreated from the museum while under her guidance. She then led them through streets and crowds to lose any would be pursuers, hoping that they would all arrive unscathed.

Although that was successful, finding the other two also here meant that something had either happened to them, or she was about to receive some extraordinarily good news. Judging from the light frown perched on Elaria’s lips however, Sophia somehow doubted that anything good would be coming from them.

“Lady Elaria, Lady Raylani!” Maylesa tried to steady her voice. Though formal, the elf’s shakiness failed to conceal her nervousness.

Sophia could tell that both the siblings were a little uneasy. Though they maintained enough composure to appear relatively normal.

“Thalnor, Maylesa, Sophia. Glad to see you all here.” Elaria smiled, through her eyes searched and found Sophia’s, the message relayed clearly with a nod. I’ll need your help.

“Indeed. I presume your early arrival here means that there were… less than fortunate occurrences?” Thalnor chimed in.

“Yes. We were also attacked.” Elaria did not mince her words.

The calm facade the two siblings tried to exude cracked as more somber expressions overtook their faces.

“The sheer audacity to try and strike in the middle of the museum. Pure madness.” Maylesa growled.

“So close to the elven quarters too.” Thalnor nodded in agreement.

“Whatever the case, it looks as if you’re all alright?” Elaria queried.

Three nods.

“Don’t worry about us. Nothing Raylani and I couldn’t handle.” She gestured to the dark elf, the warrior’s formidable aura leaving little left to question.

Elaria’s eyes met Sophia’s once more, though this time, tinged with a hint of concern.

“I’m fine.” Sophia reassured her sister.

“Ah, without her help and warning, I doubt things would’ve gone as well as they did.” Thalnor hastily handed.

Both Elaria and Sophia grinned a little at the awkward nod of support. Though each appreciated it in their own way.

“I’m sure.” Elaria let out a soft chuckle, before hardening her expression once more. “However, if both our groups got attacked…”

“The others!” Maylesa caught on.

“But if this is a coordinated attack, then we’d be lucky, no? Sophia here was more than perceptive of the threat.” Her brother mused.

“Quite so.” Maylesa bobbed her head, “Though I’m certain that Sophie can handle her own, I worry about dear Aryana. She isn’t as…” The elf paused, searching for something, “She isn’t as hardy as the rest of us.”

“Aye. I can agree on that.” Elaria grunted glumly, wiping a small droplet of sweat off her neck, “Raylani, Sophia. Can you two keep going?” She called out.

The two looked at each other, neither too surprised by the turn of events. Together, they shrugged.

“I’ll take Thalnor and Maylesa back to campus. You two go fetch Aryana and Sigrid. I don’t know about the new girl, but Aryana will need the backup. Eva… Well, Eva will probably be fine. She can hold her own.” Elaria ordered.

“Got it."

“As you command, milady.”

Sophia and Raylani answered respectively.

Departing without waiting for farewells, the two rushed towards the markets, leaving their other compatriots behind. Sophia could tell Raylani had thought of the same thing. That time was of the essence and that they were already long past the initial stages of the attack.

Yet it was only now that Sophia felt deeply uneasy. A gut churning feeling that refused to go, one even more potent than her own doubts. As if all this were but a precursor to some grander plan. A plan that she could not yet see nor unravel. And she did not like that one little bit.


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