42nd Fall, 515 A.V.
Zintia Peak
Makutsi was not holding back this day. Her rains fell upon the peaks of Lhavit without digression or mercy. The dark clouds overhead almost completely blocked out the light of the Syna, making the day little better than the night before. Most of the homes that Bennar passed were lit from within by candle or torch. That was how he spotted to two curious silhouettes on the second story balcony of a nearby home as he walked.
It was odd, because no one in their right mind would be out in this kind of weather. Bennar himself had established long ago that he was indeed not of the right mind. They seemed to both be hunched over behind the stone rail of the balcony doing the gods only know what. He approached, think he might ask them.
Just as he did so one dropped a large sack over the edge of the balcony onto the road. It landed with a distinct clinking noise on the cobbles a few feet from where Benji stood. He froze, that was the sound of valuables and heirlooms cling in a leather sack in the rain. That was not the sound of legal activity. That realization was nudging its way into Bennar's mind as swiftly as a lazy snail. He stared dumbly at the sack in front of him, wondering how well he could slip away, or if he should shout for the Shinya.
There was another wet thud. Next to the sack stood a burly man wearing dingy clothes under a ratty woolen cloak. He stood a head taller than Benji and almost twice as wide. He was peering through the rain at Benji. The way his stance oozed confidence and his face split into an eager look of amusement set Benji's heart racing. As if on cue, the second individual dropped to the street.
"Alright Gralp, let's get this stuff over to the O-" She glanced in the direction Gralp was looking. Her eyes lit upon Benji and an annoyed ripple disrupted what little beauty her face had. "Well shyke, what do we have here? A do-Gooder come to set us straight? Or a slack-jawed idiot too stupid to mind his own business?" She began to close the distance between them at a leisurely pace. Her lithe body swaying back and forth as she walked. It would have been pleasant under different circumstances, but it was just intimidating here.
What the petch? Benji had never encountered anything like bandits in Lhavit before, save for one gruesome bar fight. The Shinya were a force to be reckoned with, a might that was enough to make most Lhavitians forget things like thieves and bandits existed elsewhere. However, apparently, there were some exceptions. He had not experienced anything like this sort of threat, at least not in years. Before, in what constituted his fighting experience there had been Salvatore and Ennio to protect him. But his brothers were far and long away from Jewel of Kalea.
The woman, and now Gralp as well, were closer now. He could see the small club hanging from her belt. Makutsi’s water continued to fall from the sky, unconcerned with the drama of the moment.
What would Ennio have done? Probably kicked their asses or been snuffed out. That was no help. He did not have his brothers’ martial abilities. Where they had roughened each other up and vied for their father’s attention, Benji had always known his father had no time for him. He instead ran through the city with his equally unattended friend Lori…
Run?
RUN!
His legs were moving. They pumped up and down like he had never seen them before. He wished they could move as fast as his heart was urging them. It felt as though it was trying to escape his chest, like it would rip itself from him as soon as his ribs grew weak enough. He heard the rain, but nothing else. He wanted desperately to turn and look behind, but knew it was foolish. His fear kept him looking ahead.
“Where ya join’? We just met.” It was Gralp’s high, scraggily voice. Benji was surprised by the tone. He would have expected something low and rumbling. But the high pitch gave just enough of a wild edge to the voice to make it vile. Bennar tried to increase his speed. He desperately sucked in air and flailed his arms. At one point he slid down five stairs and by chance landed on his wildly outstretched foot. A dull ache shot through his limb, emanating from the jarring impact. He did not slow down.
A quiet splash told him that at least on of the pair had leapt the stairs as well. He had no doubt they would catch him. He was not skilled at running, at least not for his life. He needed to think. He wasn’t ready to die yet.
Think. Think. What do you have or what do you know that can stop them?
…More running. More rain. More terror.
The throwing knives!
A feeling of soaring relief momentarily flowed through him.
But I’ve never used them before. His mind helpfully pointed out.
…Think. Think, think! Petch it.
Benji fumbled with his knives. He wore the three throwing knives and the dagger ever since that bar fighter where the petcher got stabbed. He figured they would come in handy. Figured right. He managed to pull one of the knives from its sheath. He stumbled immediately following his small success and the knife flew out of his hand and clanked against the wall of a nearby shoemaker. The young, stupid, clumsy dolt cursed himself as he pressed his body for another surge of speed. What an idiot he was!
He began to pull the second knife from its place as carefully as his sprinting permitted. Once in hand he felt better about his chances. Ahead there was a staircase that he recognized. It lead down to a three-way intersection. Benji decided in the moment to go that way. He didn’t need to kill these two, he just needed to find some Shinya. They would do it for him.
He spun and threw the dagger back at his pursuers. He willed it to rip through the air with all the furious winds of Zulrav. But he did not waste time checking to see if it had hit its mark. He lunged down the dozen or so steps to the intersection and veered right. Behind him he heard laughing. He slid out of the alley and into the tiny alcove of a doorway, hoping they would not turn down his way.
“Missed by a league! You’re no Myrian, that’s for sure.” Came the woman’s amused voice. She sounded as out of breath as Benji felt.
He held his breath and waited. His hearth stammered violently, as though it did not want to stop.
“Come on out here, we just wanna talk.” Gralp said, giggling. Benji could hear them getting closer now.
He drew his remaining throwing knife and decided in a wild moment to confront them. At least in this alley they couldn’t both come at him at the same time. He spun from his alcove and flung the dagger. Gralp was looming in the forefront. He yelped as the dagger cut through Makutsi’s rain and dodged nimbly out of the way. But the woman was not so lucky. The blade sliced a shallow cut along her upper arm as it ricocheted off the wall. Benji’s fear no longer controlled him. Adrenaline had taken over and he yanked the dagger from his belt.
“Get back you… brigands!” He screeched, hoping to alert anyone nearby of his plight.
Oh you’re dead now. Gralp is going to eat you alive! His mind raced and he felt a rising panic as Gralp seemed to ignore the dagger in his hand. The man was approaching without a weapon drawn. Behind him the woman was cursing and grabbing her arm.
Magic.
He could use magic. He had never used it offensively before, but Reimancy was hardly a soft art. It was notoriously destructive when applied in the right way, or in any way really.
It had never come easier for him. The concentration pushed all his wild, racing emotions to the background. He knew it was either succeed or die. He felt a surge of sensation as the djed slid from his hand, instantly becoming res. A tingling of satisfaction. A flicker of hate as he looked at Gralp.
Burn, petcher. He did not bother shaping the res, just threw the head sized glob at his assailant. In his mind he sent the pulse of willpower that made the stuff flare up with red hot fire. The ignition caught Gralp by surprise… in the face. It smoked out almost instantly, hissing in the rain. Thanks, Makutsi. But it was enough time to let Benji gain some space between them…
