The portal crumbled into rubble. The force of the hole in reality snapping shut had thrown all nearby to the ground. The man with the dark hair and the black sword was crouched on one knee and working to regain his composure. His ears rang and his breath ravaged his throat. Blood ran down his left arm and had begun to pool inside the worn leather glove. One thought crossed his mind, over and over, as he collected his strength.
She is safe.
The assassins were beginning to recover and move in a semicircle in front of him. Archers began taking position to cover him and keep him pinned down. After all, one of their arrows had made it through already. And his archer was gone. The man was bloody and bruised. He was alone.
She is safe.
The exile stood and regarded his assailants. The Sunguard, the King’s men, had hunted them for years. They thought he was cornered. He was dangerous, but beaten. Now it was time to finish the job. The girl was out of their reach, but this one was not.
She is safe.
Violet eyes glowed and burned. The first of the soldiers began to step forward, swords at the ready. In response, the exile shifted his feet into a guard stance, and his left arm ignored pain to take up a two-handed grip on the sword. Violet eyes flashed, burning red with a new fury. This man would not die today. Men and steel had tried before and far worse had failed.
“I have nothing left to lose. Flee if you can't say the same.”
Black iron flashed. Blood froze and flesh burned to ash. Steel stood useless to withstand the unshackled violence they found themselves facing. The exile fought his way through his assailants until they gave up the pursuit. With their true quarry now beyond their reach and their current opponent no longer holding back, they found their lives no longer worth throwing on the pyre.
--
The exile had wrapped himself back in his cloak and pulled his hood tight. The magic weaved into the fabric enhanced his mastery over the dark as he seemed to fade from shadow to shadow in the late evening gloom. Now at the outskirts of the city, and the Sunguard in full retreat, the man found shelter in an abandoned house just inside the walls.
Once inside, he pulled off his cloak and checked over himself. His left side ached sharply. The arrow had struck in the gap between chest and back pieces on his leather cuirass. He had pulled the arrow during the fight so his movement would be unimpeded. The cut in his arm went almost to the bone. His arm would have likely been useless if he hadn't been focusing some portion of magic to keep muscle and tendon from further damage. A number of bruises and abrasions and a few burns lay scattered on his body. He couldn't ignore them all anymore.
He started with the puncture in his side, the most dangerous wound. He found the water in the house running, so he used it to clean the area while he used magic to close the wound and begin the process of repairing damaged tissue. He did the same to the cut on his arm and moved to each wound one by one afterwards. Blood loss now stifled, he cleaned himself more generally. Infection wouldn't be an issue, nor would nerve damage. He was well practiced at providing healing by now.
It was late at night when he sat down in a corner of the empty bedroom. The soreness would work itself out with rest, and he knew he needed it. For the first time, he allowed his thought to turn to the girl. She was half of his soul, just as he was hers. All of this had been to get her to safety and to keep her from falling to the same fate he had suffered.
Kira was alone now. He could not guide her anymore. He knew this was a possibility. This is why, while she slept one night a year before, he jumped far back and far away to gather all he had learned and acquired in his travels. He brought them all to the city that was their destination and, thanks to a few friends, hid everything he had in ways only she would be able to find. It took months to gather it all and leave the trails and clues she would need to follow. He had all the time he needed. He returned to their campsite minutes after he had left. It would be a long time before she realized he had even been gone.
She knew the codes of their house as well as he did, and he had made sure to give her clues in conversations over the last year to fill in the gaps where it was necessary. She would find his work and follow the path he had set. He hoped it would be enough to teach her the things he could not. All he had in the Nexus was hers now. It would have to do.
He wouldn't sleep that night. He hadn't needed to in a long time. It was only a way to pass the time now; his body no longer enforced the rhythm of the day on him.
He would meditate, however. He would reflect on the last three years, and in the possibilities ahead. There were plans to be made. Movements to anticipate and old contacts to renew. Throughout the night, one thought returned over and over, a mantra in the dark to bring the rest sleep could no longer provide. James Adia smiled under the shadows cast by his hood, violet flames hidden behind lidded eyes.
She is safe.
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Survival at all costs
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