Crimson and Gold

Reaching the building proved even easier than Saria anticipated. The armor most definitely helped, but what really changed the rules were her own abilities, much sharper and reliable than before.

Even with such short and, what she called, ineffective training, she managed to hone her skills, allowing her to be more effective than before.

Thirty men on the property, surveying every bit of it, and yet she sneaked past them without even breaking a sweat.

Even she couldn’t resist feeling slightly content with herself. After all, it meant that she would be even more useful to Lysandra. That she will be able to add to her cause even more.

Saria walked into the building and, after a quick search, found the staircase leading to the cellar, where she sensed another person.

Two men were guarding the door to the prison cell the girl was kept in, so Saria had to find a way to get past them without sounding an alarm.

The easiest way would be to kill them, but something told her that having her get rid of the whole gang was something Mormo was hoping for.

She had no intention of doing his dirty work. Not more than necessary to get the information she and Lysandra needed, at least.

Hiding in the shadows at the top of the stairs, she whistled to attract the attention of the guards.

“Huh? Did you hear that?” one of them asked, gazing towards the stairs.

“It’s probably Dikios walking around wasted again,” said the other, too busy trying to find a comfortable spot to sleep on the chair.

Seeing that none of them moved, Saria whistled once more.

“There it is again! I don’t think it’s him!”

The napping guard scoffed without even bothering to open his eyes. “If you’re so worried, then go check what’s going on and stop bothering me. I’m trying to sleep here.”

The first man sent him a condescending look, and, readying his sword, he slowly went to the stairs.

The second his feet reached the top, an arm wrapped around his neck, cutting off the air, while the other hand covered his mouth, preventing him from making a noise.

It took only a few seconds for him to start losing consciousness from the lack of oxygen.

Saria dragged him into a dark corner and placed him out of sight.

Without delaying any longer, she went down to the cellar.

“I was starting to think you got lost there, did you—… What the f—” the other guard shot up from his chair, but before he could finish the sentence, Saria delivered a powerful blow right into his nose.

The man was knocked out instantly. His unconscious body fell powerlessly to the seat.

“Sweet dreams.”

Saria grabbed the keychain from his belt and quickly unlocked two heavy locks on the door.

The room was tiny and completely dark. The first thing she noticed was the horrible stench attacking her nostrils the moment she opened the door.

The outside light fell through the open door, casting the golden glow on a small figure squeezed in the corner of the cell, sitting on dirty rags that Saria quickly recognized as the “bed”.

Seeing her, the girl watched her with terrified green eyes, pulling her knees to her chin like a shield.

She had to be sixteen, maybe eighteen at best.

Saria pulled down the hood and took off the mask, then knelt right where she was standing.

She raised her hands, letting the girl know she meant no harm.

“I won’t hurt you,” she said as softly, “I’m here to help. What’s your name?”

There was a flicker of doubt in the girl’s eyes as she cautiously watched Saria.

“My name is Saria. I’ll take you out of this place, alright?” she asked, slowly reaching out her hand.

The girl shivered at the gesture and squeezed herself into the corner.

Saria didn’t move, but she didn’t retract her hand. “Do you know Princess Lysandra?”

The girl hesitated for a moment, then nodded slightly.

“I’m working for her. She’s waiting for us in Aervelis. Will you come with me to see her?”

The girl hugged her knees tighter and then shook her head.

Saria was at a loss. She didn’t want to cause even more scare to the girl by taking her from there by force, but the longer it was taking, the higher the chances they would be discovered.

Then a thought crossed her mind.

“Is the name… ‘Mormo’ familiar to you?” she asked, not having much faith in this attempt.

To her surprise, however, the girl’s eyes went wide, for the first time betraying something else than terror and caution.

Hope.

“He’s the one who sent me here to find you,” Saria continued. “Will you trust me now?”

The girl hesitated for a moment, then finally took Saria’s hand.

“Alright. Stay close to me and do as I say,” she instructed, then led them out of the cellar.

Unfortunately, there was already an unpleasant surprise waiting for them outside.

“Would you look at that. So that fucker Mormo actually sent someone!” On the patio in front of the main building gathered every person in the manor.

At the front of them stood, as Saria quickly assessed, the ugliest and probably the dumbest of them all. And right next to him, the first guy she knocked out.

I knew I should have killed you, she thought, gritting her teeth.

“I don’t know what that moron was thinking sending just one woman though,” cackled the ugly one, “Unless… maybe he’s just sending us another toy to play around with.”

The wide grin revealed an incomplete row of yellow teeth, which made Saria’s stomach churn with disgust.

“Hide behind those boxes and cover your eyes,” she said softly to the girl and gestured towards a pile of wooden crates stacked in the corner of the patio.

The girl nodded and obediently followed her orders.

“I guess Mormo is getting an early birthday gift after all,” Saria sighed and pulled the hood back on her head.

“Sir, the daethri is back,” informed one of the servants.

“Shall we?” Mormo got up from the sofa and gestured towards Lysandra to accompany him.

He led her towards an inner courtyard at the back of ‘Charybdis’, where Saria was helping a young girl off the horse.

Waiting in the courtyard was also another woman, whom Lysandra didn’t recognize.

She was young, perhaps in her early twenties, but the worried look on her face added a few years to her age.

She kept her hands folded in front of her chest as if needing to stop herself from running up to the newly arrived people.

When the girl was finally off the horse, she noticed a familiar figure standing a few meters away behind Saria and rushed to meet her.

“Eris!” the girl cried, throwing herself into the woman’s embrace and hugging her tightly.

“I’m here, your sister is here,” Eris repeated, while pulling the girl closer.

The relief and joy quickly washed away the trouble from her face.

Not wanting to interrupt the sisters’ reunion, Saria approached Lysandra and Mormo watching the scene from a distance.

“I did what you asked for, even added a little extra,” she said, watching the man with intensity, but with much less hostility than before. “Now it’s your turn to keep your part of the deal.”

Mormo smiled with unhidden contentment. “Maybe you should consider joining me. With your skills, you would fit right in.”

Saria scoffed. “I’d be careful, Mormo. Last person harboring these kinds of thoughts lost both hands.”

The man’s gaze jumped between the women standing next to him. He smiled to himself, but didn’t continue the subject.

“This is the last known location I have of Drusus,” he said instead and handed a folded piece of paper to Lysandra. “That’s all I know.”

“Thank you.” The Princess took the note and started walking away when Mormo called out to her.

“Your Highness, I hope that after today, you’ll understand that even if we take different paths, our destination is the same.”

Mormo was standing in his office. Absentmindedly, he was undoing the lace of his forearm bracer when he heard a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

“Sir, our men had just returned from Yanis’ mansion,” the servant informed upon entering the room.

“What’s the situation there?”

The servant hesitated for a moment, looking for the right words. “It’s…”

Hearing his troubled voice, Mormo raised his eyes to look at him.

“It’s a slaughterhouse,” the servant finally said.

“Yanis?”

“He wasn’t among the dead. He must have been away when she got there.”

Mormo gave a simple ‘hm’ and seemed to fall into another deep thought.

“What should we do about the Princess?” the servant asked, seeing that his boss wasn’t planning to speak up.

“Assist her, but do it quietly. She’s not ready yet.”

Getting his orders, the servant left the office, leaving Mormo again to his thoughts.

The man finished undoing the laces and took off the leather bracer. Massaging his wrist, his gaze fell to the bump on his skin.

After so many years, the scar faded ever so slightly, but it was still irritably visible. The grim reminder of his past and the things he wished to have forgotten.

His thumb instinctively traced the shape he would always see in his relentless dreams.

‘III’.

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