Reaper Academy: Book One

Chapter Fourteen: PLEASE REVIEW

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Articus waited, impatiently pacing the small portal room, despite the glares he got from the two relaxed Reapers.

“Stop fidgeting, he will be out when he’s done,” Celia said with a hint of irritation.

“I’m not fidgeting,” Articus said defensively, but he stopped.

She didn’t argue, only sniffed loudly. Priscilla raised a hand to her mouth, hiding a smile. They had been bickering more and more lately.

The doors opened and Articus heard the heavy foot falls of Cedrick. They all turned to see the giant striding down the hall, grinning. There were faint traces of a nasty black eye but by the time he reached them, it was gone. Priscilla raised an eyebrow at him and he nodded.

“You’re looking at a Devotee.”

“I expecting nothing less,” she said before turning and leaving them through the portal--it activated just before her nose hit the mirror.

Show off.

“Tough woman to please,” Articus muttered.

Cedrick watched the woman’s body get sucked into the silvery mirror like surface before grunting. “You should see my wife.”

Articus looked from Cedrick to Celia. “So what now?”

“Independent study, for both of you,” Celia said pointedly to Cedrick, who gave her a mock salute—Articus had been rubbing off on him. Rolling her eyes, she said, “Priscilla and I will go to the Finder’s Stone and see if there are any jobs for us. Every Reaper gets paid by the job, so you will be competing for work with everyone else. Hopefully, by the end of the week, we can find you both a job. Don’t be surprised if we have to all share one.”

“Mistress Celia!”

They all turned to see one of Celia’s slaves running toward them. Celia’s mouth thinned at the sight of the white clad woman, sprinting unceremoniously toward them, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

Maybe I’m rubbing off on her too.

When the slave stopped in front of them, Celia exasperated, “What is it?”

Wishful thinking.

The slave bowed and, between loud gasps of breath, said. “Master Reaper – Nicolas. Told – me to tell – you that he – has a level 2 assignment for – Master Articus. Here – Mistress.” She handed her a note.

Celia’s eyebrows rose in surprise, grabbing the white parchment from her. “Level 2? You are sure of this?”

“Why?” Articus asked as the slave nodded furiously.

“They rank their assignments by difficulty. Level 1 is the hardest and level 4 is the easiest. Novices normally start out with 3 or 4. You apparently impressed him enough.”

Articus would have thought she would have been pleased, but she wasn’t. Her frown only deepened more when she read the note.

“Cedrick, you will come with us. Priscilla is busy today—doing other things.”

The two new Devotees looked at each other, uncertain.

“What about our sa’dkas?” Cedrick asked.

“They will be there at the Finder’s Stone. Come.”

His mentor’s frown worried Articus. She wasn’t the type of woman to worry unless it was warranted. The more his mind started thinking on it, the more he became suspicious. If I can assume Celia isn’t in on whatever is going on, and she has my best interest… I don’t care how special they think I am, this seems off. I can’t use my spirit, so why risk it? And then a morbid thought hit him, What if they are trying to kill me off? Send me off on an assignment deemed hard and arrange my death? Damn.

After they walked through the portal, back to the stables, Articus said, “Cedrick, I think you should sit this one out.”

He kept his eyes on his mentor’s back. Her shoulders tensed but she didn’t voice any objections. Cedrick eyed them both and then said cautiously, “Something you aren’t telling me?”

“Later.”

“You sure about this?”

“Yeah. Meet you back for more ass kicking—I mean Stones.”

Cedrick grinned. “Prick.”

“Love you.”

When the Ghourdian left, Celia tried for humor. “Are you that confident?” Her smile was weak at best.

“You know damn well this stinks,” Articus said as he walked the stalls, looking for Ronin.

Celia hesitated before following him. She kept her silence until he found his stallion. As he pulled him out, Articus searched for his saddle and bridle.

“I will admit this is unusual, but you have shown more potential then any other student in a long time. For a Reaper, a long time is a long time.”

He tossed the gear at the animal’s feet and pulled out a brush. As he wiped down his old friend, Ronin danced around anxiously and nuzzled Articus’s ear playfully. He hadn’t had the chance to stretch the horse’s legs since they’d come to Tekal.

“I never thought of you as an ignorant woman.”

She glared at him but he could see the wheels turning in her mind. Articus decided to take a chance.

“Yesterday, I don’t think I was fighting Darklings.”

He watched his mentor from across the animals back as he absently brushed Ronin’s flank. Articus couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but he thought he made the right call. Of course, I’ve been wrong before.

Celia didn’t say anything until after he had brushed Ronin down and was saddling him.

“I see.”

“Have you come to the same conclusion as I have?”

Celia’s eyes narrowed. “A trap.”

“A trap.” Articus agreed.

“Do you know who are all involved?”

“You mean if the Head Mistress is? I don’t know. But you can be damn sure I’m going to find out. I don’t feel like dieing until at least my seventieth Name Day.”

“You mean three-hundredth.”

“Toe-may-toe, Toe-ma-toe.”

She looked at Ronin as if seeing him for the first time. “You are still going?”

“Still want to come?” he shot back.

“But it’s a trap.”

“I’ll be careful.” He said cheerfully.

“But it’s a trap.”

Articus shook his head and laughed. “The irony of it. Reapers, probably the most powerful military entity in the world and you guys don’t know a single thing about tactics.”

She glared at him—she’d been getting really good at that—and then said, “Okay Centurion, educate me.”

“We know there is a trap, that’s a lot better than not knowing. They expect us to go and if we don’t, then they will be suspicious. So that rules out not going. If we go and spring the trap, then we have a chance at catching one of these so called Darklings. Then we will see how far the rabbit hole goes.”

“A chance.”

Articus frowned but nodded. “Aye, a chance. That’s normally how it ends up. ‘I’d rather be lucky then good’ is what my Under-Centurion use to say.”

“Smart guy.”

“He has his moments.”

Celia’s blue eyes held his for a moment.

“You are going out on a limb trusting me.”

“Yes.”

The answer must have been the magic word because she visibly relaxed in relief. Articus hadn’t realized how tense she’d become. Celia would be in the same boat as him now; it was a comfort of sorts. He hadn’t wanted anyone else involved but it was out of his control now.

Then he quietly laughed bitterly to himself. I don’t even know what I have gotten myself into.

As an afterthought, she asked, “Why did you send Cedrick away?”

Articus turned to rig Ronin’s bridle on, giving himself some time to think of an answer. He didn’t want to tell her it was because if it was a trap, and if Cedrick got killed, he didn’t want to disappoint Nina. It sounded silly, even to Articus, but it was there nonetheless.

“They are expecting only the two of us,” he said when he finished.

“All the more reason to have Cedrick.”

“Who’s the military genius here?”

“I’m thinking.”

He glared at her but there wasn’t any malice to it. Articus felt a kind of companionship he had with rand, it was nice.

“Fine. Let’s go.” Celia said, her smile returning.

Articus followed her to the portal and stopped. “What about your horse?”

She opened the note briefly and scanned it again before saying, “The Darkling was spotted somewhere in Boria, a small city in Ghourd. There is a portal in Boria, so I won’t need one. Besides, it’s in Ghourd, women don’t ride horses there. It’s illegal.”

Articus wasn’t as surprise as he would have been a week ago by the news. He had become beyond ‘surprise-able’ by the absurd laws. He remembered one particular law in Capri he had read two days ago, ’A man may not touch another woman in any way, in public, unless she offers her hand or that man shall have his right hand chopped off.’ Ha!

“Will we need paperwork for our weapons or citizenship?”

Nina had been educating him of the northern customs when his mentor wasn’t. Every person who traveled between cities had to have the proper paperwork to enter any city. If you had a weapon, more papers to lawfully carry it. If you were trading merchandise, even more paperwork—especially if you traded more than one kind of item.

Celia nodded approvingly. “I see I’m not the only one teaching you our customs. Yes, we will have all the paperwork at the Finder’s Stone.” She raised her hand to the portal and Articus memorized the combination to the Finder’s Stone.

On the other side, there was a large room with a table in the center. The room was sparse compared to the rooms he had seen back in the palace. There was only a large banner of Tekal hanging from the ceiling and the large table to show for. Behind the table were three archways that lead to three portals. From what he could remember, one of the portals was dedicated to a place that was similar to a prison; another was the Head Mistress’s personal portal that could go to places that no normal portal could go. And the third was just your normal run of the mill portal.

A fat man with a handle bar mustache sat behind the table, patiently waiting for them. Just beyond the man was a wooden tube chute that came down from the ceiling. Articus had read that it lead up to the actual Finder’s Stone where the Mage’s tracked the Darkling’s down. When they did find a Darkling, they’d send down the coordinates through the chute.

What took Articus by surprised, though, was how strong the large man was in the spirit—as strong as the Head Mistress if he were to judge.

“George.”

“Afternoon Celia. Is this Articus? Of course it is. I’ve heard much about you. A pleasure to meet you and congratulations with your Devotee test, I heard. News travels fast, you will learn. Here are your things you will need. To Boria, eh? Try not to get arrested again. Four hours before your window, every hour after. Have fun.”

Articus hadn’t expected the high pitch voice from the large man, it was almost comical. What nagged at Articus was the impression he got from the man, the Reaper wanted him gone.

Dismissing the suspicious feelings, he looked down at the table to find a sa’dka, a stack of papers, and two bracelets. Celia motioned him to take his new blade and a bracelet as she picked up the rest.

“Thanks George.”

She walked passed him and Articus dutifully followed her with Ronin behind him. They reached the middle portal and Articus watched the symbols she pressed, filing them away.

Articus got to the other side without tumbling to the ground and was only mildly surprised that the room wasn’t a run down cellar to a whorehouse. On the contrary, the room looked like a large waiting room. Pillows and chairs were everywhere, similar to the Tekal style he’d seen. Ronin was out of place but Articus caught the faint light of high noon down a hallway that stretched out beyond the doorway.

“So what was that all about?”

“George? Don’t mind him. He might talk faster than you can listen but he is good at what he does.”

“And what exactly does he do?”

“Among some administrative tasks he locks and unlocks the portals. And if anything nasty enters, he is our main defense. George could take on a small army of Darklings.”

“So I saw.”

“You saw?” Celia frowned at him.

“Well, yeah. He felt as powerful as the Head Mistress.”

“You can feel how strong a person is?”

“Why? Can’t you…” Articus felt like he had just told her he was pregnant. She was shocked. Now that Articus thought about it, he never had actually heard anyone saying they could. He had just assumed.

“Right,” Articus breathed. “Let’s just finish this.” Pausing, he thought back to George’s conversation. “Did he just say you got arrested?”

“I think you are right. We should finish this.”

Articus made a note to learn exactly what his mentor had done the last she’d been to Boria. “What’s our cover story?”

Celia handed him a sheet of paper and Articus felt his eyes involuntarily widen as he read it. “We are married?”

“Only on paper you dolt. I’ll be your Roof Mistress on this assignment. You remember the proper protocols I taught you?”

Articus strapped on his sa’dka to his other side, balancing the weight of his da’kka out evenly. “Aye, what about this bracelet?” He had placed the finely crafted silver bracelet on his right hand.

“When we go back through the portal to Tekal, it will warn George that we are allies.”

“Oh. Well, let’s get this over with then.”

He started for the door but Celia stopped him. “Where are you going?”

Articus eyed the door hesitantly, “Umm, that way?”

She rolled her eyes and turned to a closet that had been built next to the portal. Rummaging through it, Articus heard her mumbling something to herself—just out of his hearing. “Not in those clothes, unless you want to announce to the world you are a Reaper,” she said more audibly.

Articus looked down at his formal black uniform he had worn to his Devotee test.

“Military genius,” he heard Celia mutter in a voice similar to his.

“So what were you arrested for again?”

“Here.” She tossed him a ball of clothes. Scarlet and gold met his eyes. The threads could have belonged to a Lord.

He looked around the room for a changing room but didn’t see any. Celia tapped her foot impatiently. Muttering to himself about women always being in a hurry, he stripped himself naked. When Celia averted her eyes the moment she realized he wasn’t wearing any small clothes, Articus listened to the little Darkling who sat on his right shoulder.

“Isn’t dressing her Master one of the Roof Mistress’s duties?”

Her eyes snapped to his and Articus got his answer. Then she blushed. He grinned.

As he dressed himself, he heard ‘pig’ muttered more than once. Articus 2, Celia 1

Once fully clothed, she handed him another paper, this one detailing a map. “Last known coordinates are at that inn,” she said pointing to a square marked ‘The Wander’.

“Why was it marked a level 2?”

“The strength of the Darkling, it rivals my own.”

Articus memorized the map and, when he asked where they were on it, noted their location.

“They probably have a description of us already. Is there any dye for our hair in there?”

Celia shook her head, and Articus looked back at the map. It was the typical city. All the buildings were built around the merchant square, where the inn was. For the majority, warehouse type buildings were on the outside and in between the square and the warehouses were houses of the wealthy or smaller shops.

“We stick with the back roads and keep out of the square and this inn. I should be able to sense who our Darkling is and if he has any friends. We change out of our clothes and get less noticeable ones. If this is a trap, I wouldn’t be surprised if they knew what I’m wearing already.”

Celia looked as if she were going to say something but thought better of it and nodded. The roles have been switched and she has accepted it. Well that’s one problem out of the way.

Eyeing the map again, he led Ronin out into a busy street. He didn’t mount Ronin but instead walked him. Articus didn’t know if it was the ‘proper’ way to act as a Lord but he sure as hell didn’t want to risk an arrow in the back for it. He watched the people around him and got a feel for Boria. It was like any other trading post that stood at a crossroad. There were many of them in the Empire so he already knew what sort of disguise they’d need.

Celia kept her head down and obediently followed him--as meek as Mia. Articus didn’t know why but that irritated him.

He led Celia and Ronin to a shop three streets over from the Darkling’s inn, his senses extended out for anything unusual. Having super hearing and eyes like a hawk was a new change for him but he welcomed it. Compared to before, it was like being born again. Sights, sounds, and smells he would never have thought possible before, came to him in crystal clarity.

The shop was a modest woolen store, a perfect place to start. After talking with the shopkeeper, a friendly motherly woman--apparently not all northerners were goddesses--they bought two high quality woolens with their clothes and had extra silver in their hands. It was nothing too flashy like the scarlet and gold but he hadn’t planed on drawing attention to any bowman.

Waving to the happy shopkeeper--she’d gotten the better deal by far--Celia whispered just in his hearing, “You shouldn’t have done that. Wool doesn’t suit you.”

“Since when did you care?” Articus whispered back as four young rich merchants passed, laughing at something one of the four had done. He had to remember to keep his eyes down; Articus wasn’t a ‘Lord’ anymore.

Ignoring the question, she said, “You could have gotten gold for those on top of these farmer’s wools.”

“We aren’t farmers for one,” he said patiently as they worked their way through the streets--this time, toward a dye shop. “We are modest merchants making some coin here. If anyone saw that we had gold, people would be start asking questions. Most would think we stole it. We aren’t nobles anymore, remember that.”

They reached the dye shop and Articus gave the shopkeeper a fabricated story about needing dyes for some woolens he’d just purchased. After some bargaining, Articus thought he got the better deal--but so had the shop keeper. With dyes in hand, he found an inn a street away from the square.

Half an hour since they got to Boria, Articus had a room and a disguise. Leaving Ronin and three pennies with the stable boy, he headed up to the room where Celia waited with the dyes.

“Is this really necessary?”

She looked shockingly normal now that she was out of her wealthy clothes, but still beautiful.

“Yes, now into the bathroom.” He plucked the golden dye from her and herded her into the bathroom. Articus had had the innkeeper bring up two buckets of water. Putting her on her knees, he washed her hair before rubbing in the dye. Washing it again, he rubbed in another coat of dye before drying her off.

Celia stood up, still dripping, and frowned. “I better not look like a village girl.”

He grinned and pointed to a full size mirror behind her. While the inn wasn’t the best, it certainly had its accommodations.

Celia turned and gasped. You wouldn’t have thought she had been the same person, she looked more like Guinavev.

“Wow.”

Articus grunted and averted his eyes; he had thought he’d gotten over his starring impediment.

Using the same dye on himself, Articus stood up with her. They looked Kalian.

“Now what?” Celia asked, looking up at him.

“We hunt.”

Articus made Celia take only her sa’dka and removed the thigh straps from her sheath. Articus did the same and they both walked out of their room and into the growing crowds.

It didn’t take Articus much time to locate the Darkling. Celia had wrapped her arm through his as if they had recently been betrothed and were peering at one of the numerous shops along the square when Articus sensed him.

Articus guided them casually passed the Darkling and to a shop just behind the Darkling.

“So where do you think the Darkling is?” Celia whispered.

“Already passed him. Ghourdian looking guy, blue shirt, silver lining. Look for anyone who looks like they are watching him.”

Celia’s eyes glanced over where the Darkling was and then scanned the square. She had a cool head on her shoulders, something he was grateful for.

“There, three o’clock. Red head woman in a yellow dress.” Celia whispered after a time.

Immediately after she said it, Articus caught another. “Twelve o’clock. Bald man, late thirties with the beard.”

Articus led his ‘Roof Mistress’ to the next shop, feigning interest.

They stood there a little longer as they spied their new prey. The Darkling was admiring a statue, but was positioned just so he could watch the other two and the inn. The other two were browsing the wares of the numerous shop keepers but, after watching them, it became was obvious that they weren’t interested in buying. Articus didn’t see any other suspicious looking people but he checked the rooftops just to be sure.

“It’s a triangle. They are all watching each other’s backs and the inn that the Darkling was spotted in. The two other’s I didn’t see before because they aren’t Darklings or Reapers.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Celia murmured behind her smile, she’d been watching his back as he scanned the area.

“I know. They are too far apart to do anything right away. Only that Darkling is a threat. It makes me nervous.” Articus eyed the rooftops again.

Celia watched his eyes and then did the same. “You think…”

“Yeah. It’s too obvious of a set up. Some one must have either known we would know or they are very cautious.”

“What you want to do?”

Articus thought it over and then sighed.

“Split up. You take the human woman and I’ll take the human man. Do it quick and quietly. Those two are both the closest to the alleys. We kill them and watch the Darkling. They don’t know who we are yet and when they see their two lookout men ghosted, maybe we can draw out anyone that’s laying low.”

Celia nodded and started for the woman but Articus held onto her arm firmly. When she turned a questioning eye to him, he said, “Be careful. I don’t like this one bit. If you don’t see me after you take her, you stay low and wait it out.”

He saw anger flash though her but it immediately went away and was replaced with--fondness?

“I will. Don’t get yourself killed, husband.” She squeezed his arm before leaving.

She is just a General in pretty skirts… He was starting to loose his confidence in that comforting thought.

Articus didn’t wait to watch her leave or to play with any other thoughts. He threaded his way to the older man and kept his head down. The man had been looking at a necklace and was making his way to the next stand. Articus saw an opening and took it.

Stumbling, Articus ran into the man, pushing him passed the shops and into the alleyway that opened up into the square.

“Hey!” The older man yelled.

“Sorry, I--.” Articus wheezed. “I—“

“Are you okay?” The man looked toward the Darkling’s direction but turned back to Articus.

Articus bent over and coughed, shaking his head violently. When he finished his coughing fit, Articus looked up at him and smiled weakly.

“I’m fine,” and then he stuck like a lightening bolt. He had used his coughing act to grab for his sa’dka and the dagger slashed out into a full sword—a whole foot stuck out the man’s back. Articus grabbed the wide-eyed man’s throat, preventing him from screaming out. With a violent shove, Articus threw the man into the nearest wall, his body sliding away from the sword. The unnamed man slammed into the wall hard, his eye’s rolling back into his head. Hastily, Articus covered the twitching body and wiped his blade clean before walking up to where the dead man once stood.

Articus came out just in time to see Celia’s blond hair with no trace of a red head in a yellow dress. Relief mixed with the adrenaline that had pumped its way into his body.

He was stopped by the nearest merchant who wanted him to look at the man’s wares.

“Actually,” Articus said, “do you know anything about that statue?” Articus pointed to the one that the Darkling was standing by. It was of a man dressed in full armor.

“Why that’s King Tugor. Are you not from here? Well of course not. You are from Kalian, yes?”

Articus nodded absently and kept his eyes on the statue, and--more importantly--the Darkling who just realized his two buddies were missing.

“He was the man who fought in the War of Thrones, the one man who united our nation against those barbarians.”

“Barbarians?” Articus asked half mindedly. The Darkling was looking around frantically.

“Why the Ce’lians, of course. Monsters I say. Have you heard of those vicious Vanguards? I hear they are all seven feet tall and spit fire like real Darklings.”

Articus struggled to keep the smile off his face. He hadn’t known he was famous. “No I hadn’t.”

The panicked Darkling turned and started for the nearest alleyway. Articus hadn’t been able to find a new player but he couldn’t risk having the man run off.

He turned to see the shopkeeper staring at him. Articus realized he had been staring at the statue. Turning his head as if hearing his name, he excused himself.

Articus met with Celia halfway and they both turned to follow the Darkling.

He eyed her up and down as they walked. She looked a little paler then usual. “You okay?”

“Y-Yes. I…” She straightened her dress and exhaled, determination replacing her uneasiness. “I just haven’t killed a person before.”

“Oh.” Articus could see how killing Darklings might be considered ‘okay’ morally. “I’m sorry I asked you to.”

She smiled up at him and threaded her arm through his as she had done before. Something warned him that she wasn’t doing it just out of show.

“Not your fault. What’s the plan?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. If I were him, though, I’d try to isolate whodunit for our other player, thus the alleyways.”

“Trap.”

“Trap,” he agreed, a smile playing on his lips.

She smiled again and followed him into the alley. Articus pulled out his sa’dka and she did the same, hiding it just inside their overcoats.

Five spans into the alleyway, Articus’s six-sense went off. Pushing Celia to the wall, he pushed himself to the other side. An arrow whizzed by right where Celia had been. Ducking down to a crotch, Articus caught the faint outline of someone at the end of the alleyway, just over the Darkling’s shoulder. It was another Darkling... or Reaper.

The first Darkling turned on its toes and faced them just after the arrow passed his shoulder.

Then he charged.

Celia slide forward on her thigh, running her sword up into the man’s gut. It was a reckless move but she’d done it fast enough to catch him off guard. Articus, using the wall, leaped over the man and charged the other Darkling.

Articus heard the click of a trigger and he felt himself Accelerate. He could almost do it at will.

The Darkling had his crossbow raised to his cheek and the bolt that was halfway out, trying to fly itself out of the bow. The effect was…peculiar.

Grabbing the bolt just below the bolt head, he jerked up and felt a dispersal of energy just behind the bolt’s end. Reversing his grip on the bolt, he drove the bolt into the man’s throat. Time resumed.

He heard the body of Celia’s man drop just before the man in front of him dropped.

Articus turned and looked down either side of the alley. No one was at either end, at least the end they had come from. The crossbowman had used the darkness at the very end of the alley as cover, it was near pitch black. Walking forward cautiously, Articus found the alley ended four spans farther in.

“Clear,” Articus called back.

“Clear,” Celia agreed.

Articus walked to Celia’s man and knelt before him. The stomach wound looked really painful. “Who are you and who sent you.”

“Go to hell.”

“I’ll give you three seconds before I send you there. If you tell me, you live.”

“Kill me, I don’t care.”

“One.”

“Stop the monologue already,” the man snarled.

“Two.”

The man’s composure became less sure.

“Three.”

Articus killed him. He stood up and Celia averted her eyes away from him. I bring violence and nothing else, a small voice in the back of his mind reminded him.

Pushing the thought out of his mind, he turned to the other man.

Articus had propped the Darkling up against the wall to watch his friend die--the arrow still in him. The man’s eyes widened as Articus neared him and he started gasping for breath.

He ripped the arrow out.

“Same deal as your dead friend. You tell, you live. One.”

“Okay! I’ll tell all! No counting! Please no counting!” The man was near hysteria and Articus realized then that he wasn’t a man but a boy. Articus was probably eight years his senior.

“Spill.”


“We-We are part of the Fourth Triangle.”

Articus eyed Celia to see if she knew what he was talking about but she looked as confused as he.

“We-We were sent to k-kill you and l-leave her b-beaten. I w-was told b-by Slay—“

Articus’s six-sense tingled again and he leaped back, knocking Celia to the ground. Above them a needle like thread of energy shot into the boy’s head and the stunned boy’s head exploded.

And then silence.

“Mother of Gods!” Celia gasped.

“Stay down!” Articus growled as he pushed her head down with his hands protectively. Scanning they alley’s entrance, he frantically looked for the attacker. No one.

He was sure it had come from the entrance but he checked the rooftops anyways. Not seeing anyone, Articus got up and slowly stalked to the alleyway’s entrance, he looked both ways. No one.

Shedding off his blood splattered coat, he ran to Celia and helped her up. “We got to bail. Come on.”

Celia stood frozen in place, staring wide-eyed at the boy’s headless corpse. Thankfully, she let him lead her out of the blood drenched alley and into the bright cheery crowds of Boria’s Merchant Square.

A big contrast to what they had just witnessed.

And learned.