After reaching a count of a hundred, I turn to the north and start walking. The soldiers trying to contain me immediately try to poke me with their spears in an amusingly timid display because they don't actually want to provoke me.

“I'm just going for a walk, you're welcome to come along.” I speak up and dash.

I step on a spear and backhand a scythe aside, which smarts quite a bit. They scream at me to stop as I rush away. My heart protests rather quickly so I slow down as soon as I've gained some distance.

I still quickly catch sight of the unshaven officer speaking to a group of three as they hurry north under the escort of a dozen soldiers in actual chain-mail armed with single-handed arming swords.

The youngest is a woman in her twenties and sporting a tight green-brown tunic over brown pants. There is an older woman next to her that looks out of place, wearing a large pale blue dress that would suit a bartender more than a rebel.

The last is a man approaching his thirties with brown eyes and lustrous hair of the same color, he's wearing a loose leather jacket and pants that make him look like a handsome-ish rogue.

From his appearance, I conclude that this is Sykus. The three and the officer turn to me at once just as the two squads pursuing me emerge from a street. I close the distance while waving my umbrella up at them.

“Hey!” I cheerfully call out.

“I'm going to assume this is Jessica Freepath.” Sykus comments with a placid expression.

“She has demonstrated a tendency to slip through our troops.” The officer mutters. “And has high access.” He adds, clearly trying to warn his superior without insulting me by doing so outright.

The younger woman draws a short sword, causing the unshaven man to hurriedly place his hand on her wrist to stop her from doing something stupid. Clearly, he only had time to briefly tell them of me without warning them as the parley and Exemplar are likely seen as more pressing threats than a peaceful envoy from Izla Meria.

“You'll have to excuse me, Miss Freepath, but we are busy so we will have to find another time to discuss.” Sykus says while waving at the two squads to tell them to escort me away.

“I didn't come all the way here to witness how you flee in Mirus.” I utter with a flat tone.

“Impudence!” The middle-aged woman exclaims while pulling up her light blue dress to stomp towards me. “Sir Sykus has no...”

“There's a puddle.” I cut her off while staring down right in front of her.

The woman freezes and takes a quick step back only to find flat dirt with not a drop of water with me smirking at her. As the woman's cheeks turn red, Sykus steps forward with a hint of golden energy around his irises. He's on his guard and prepared his senses for an unexpected fight.

“As enemies of the Empire, so long as we remain in this town a parley sponsored by the Order will not result in ending the siege.” He tells me with a condescending smile that would have resulted in his white teeth meeting my knuckles any other day.

“You lead these forces.” I note.

“But with us gone, this battle can be put to an end.” He panders, offering no argument and looking at me like one would at a naive kid.

“And begun anew elsewhere.” I coldly counter, causing him to blink in surprise.

“We can take you along and discuss Duchess Lance's wishes, Miss Freepath.” Sykus offers, changing the subject.

“Not to mention a parley provides you with a great opportunity to run away unscathed.” I note, coming close to calling him a coward because I've close to lost all my patience by now.

“Then remain, I've no time to waste with an incompetent envoy.” Sykus grunts.

As he tries to snap around to leave, I use a short lion's step to close the distance reach out to place my umbrella on his left shoulder to stop him. He glares at me and grabs the center of the handle. I allow flow to course through my limbs and use a lion strike to draw the thin short rapier held within.

“Shit!” The officer exclaims.

I swing the blade up to Sykus' throat and place the sharp edge on his left jugular, causing him to freeze mid-way from punching me out of fright. The body-guards draw their weapons but hesitate to close the distance. Sykus stands where he is, the rest of my umbrella in hand.

“You were in such a hurry to run with your tail between your legs that you didn't listen closely enough to your officer's warnings, Sykus.” I tell him with a corner smile. “I'm neither envoy nor a naive peasant engaged to a powerful Noble for political reasons. I am Jessica Freepath and I've come here on my own behalf to call you to account.”

A stunned silence falls over the area as these leaders never expected me to do this. Only the officer has the guts to break the moment by carefully approaching and I assume he only does this because of the mistaken assumption his previous encounter with me gave him.

“I assure you, this is no time to condescend by underestimating my capacity to murder all of you here and now.” I calmly speak up while clearly articulating each word. The unshaven man stops where he stands.

“An assassin.” The middle-aged woman whispers as her cheeks go from red to white.

“She called herself Jessica Freepath, and I am inclined to believe her.” The officer quickly intervenes. “What is it you wish, Miss?”

“Let's start with returning my gear.” I reply.

I send my flow out and seize the belts he took from me off his shoulder. I also take the pouch from his hand and slip it back in one of the belts which I then fasten back around my waist with delicately manipulated hardened air. They all watch in tense silence.

“Now, give me one good reason why you shouldn't attend this parley.” I command.

“It could just as well be a trap, and even if it isn't, no good will come of it as long as Nobles continue persecuting us.” Sykus replies.

“Us? Aren't you a bourgeois?” I throw back with a flat voice. “I don't seem to recall hearing of you experiencing much 'persecution' in your life, Sykus, until you got involved in a political skirmish between houses and lost.”

“I spent more than a year as a slave, it was enough to teach me that some things need to end.” He counters with a somber look in his eyes, an echo from a distant pain.

The youngest woman of the two makes a confused expression as well as the officer while the middle-aged one pinches her lips at my revelation. The bodyguards haven't wavered since I placed my rapier on Sykus' throat and seem as ready as before to charge me so I decide to test them.

“Rowing upriver, how harsh.” I sarcastically dismiss Sykus' response, causing many to scowl or glare at me. “I won't deny your right to escape, but please.”

“Miss Freepath, there is no rest for the slaves propelling Mirus' trading barges. They sleep at their benches and row days on end without a single break.” The officer intervenes. “Most die of exhaustion, the rest from harsh beatings.”

“Hm, you learn something new every day.” I calmly remark. “So, what is it you intend to achieve with this rebellion?” I ask.

“As I said, ending Nobility's persecution.” Sykus proudly declares, straightening his posture despite the sword on his neck.

“You're going to need to give me details if you don't want to end the day thirty centimeters shorter.” I utter between my grit teeth. To Sykus' credit, he remains calm. “Do you seek to end Nobility? Force them to adopt laws? What is it you are doing that will improve people's lives?”

“We're fighting, showing Mirus' greedy houses we won't be sheep for them to herd.” He responds.

“Hrm.” Liz grunts. “So, you've got no concrete plans or ideas on how to end this.” I conclude as I narrow my eyelids.

“We have a strategy we will not share at the point of a sword.” The officer cuts in.

“Interesting.” I exclaim, flicking over to the unshaven man. “Does it involve funding yourselves by allowing passage to arms merchants sponsored by Noble houses and taking a cut of their sales?” I question.

“Uh, no?” The officer answers with a confused expression. “Is this Izla Meria's offer? Hetlan's?” He questions.

I distinctively notice that the middle-aged woman and Sykus tense while the younger woman acts as lost as the officer. The bodyguards don't show much of a reaction, their focus hasn't wavered.

“That's odd, I wonder what's happening to all that coin.” I ponder out loud as I slowly turn my gaze slowly back to Sykus. “You've done no good for the people of this region. In fact, you drew them in a war to save yourself and...”

“Lies!” The young woman exclaims. “He's saved many of us!”

“Who no doubt joined his forces, stabilizing the situation enough he began profiting from it.” I coldly establish. “I've witnesses and documents to prove this.”

“Why would we believe you? Are you even who you claim to be?” She presses.

“She's delusional.” Sykus calmly utters. “There is no such agreement, and I've done everything in my power to strengthen this rebellion as its leader.”

“You've refused to let me inspect the singular piece that could prove your identity.” The officer piles on, apparently abandoning his previous tactic of appeasement despite the doubts I've seeded.

I take a moment to consider if killing them here will be best for the people they dragged into this fight but quickly realize it'll merely create chaos I cannot control so I open my pouch with my energy.

I use a tendril of flow to take out the roll of parchment proving who I am which has three seals, that of the Hospitaliers' Grand Commander, the Templar Order's, and the Council's.

I activate the runic construct attached to the parchment as the officer snatches it out of the air, I barely manage to dismantle the air construct before it rips. Sykus frowns while the officer reads it.

“This appears legitimate, the description matches and her flow is clearly attuned to it.” The unshaven man declares. “The Order wouldn't allow a falsified identification parchment to bear their seal and it is beyond doubtful Duchess Lance would allow anyone to use her wif... fiancee's identity considering her honorable reputation.” That's right, but not for the reason you mentioned, Leomi isn't above trickery.

“All this proves is that we're on the same side, Miss Freepath.” Sykus speaks up, commanding attention with a booming voice. “Don't be fooled by Mirus' deceitful courtly maneuvers.”

“I don't have a side, Sykus. I do as I wish, sometimes it is the wrong thing for the wrong reasons.” I deny. “In this case, my wish is to destroy you for dragging those who've followed you into a mess with no aim.”

“He didn't deceive us!” Voices erupt from behind me.

I apply more pressure on Sykus' throat to ensure he won't be stupid and flick a glance over my shoulder. I find the two squads who pursued me angrily brandishing their spears and scythes.

“Then what is it you're fighting for?” I ask with curiosity. “An end to Nobility? You don't have the forces, the strategy, or the resources to reach that end. New laws to protect low born from abuse? Your leader is fleeing from a call to parley made by an Exemplar.”

“As I said, we are...” Sykus starts.

“If he was to negotiate.” I interrupt him. “The only leverage he would have is to end hostilities and all that will obtain is a global pardon that won't include Sykus or the leaders, which is why they're fleeing.”

Silence falls on the soldiers who might've not heard much of how this conversation began. I turn back to Sykus whose clenched jaw and tight lips show that he's getting angry.

“Here's what's going to happen.” I start.

“Before that.” He cuts in while slowly putting the umbrella on my shoulder. “You've asked quite a few questions about our goals, Jessica Freepath, it would only be fair if you told of your own.” He utters.

Fair? We have a blade on your throat, idiot, we have no need to be fair. But it would be counterproductive to deny answers. Boring, let this end so these pitiful rebels can run to Hetlan and we can join Leomi in Kruzser. I have a plan, sister, let me handle this. Fine, but I'm going back to sleep.

“I take issue with a war led for the benefit of the few with no viable resolution in sight, also your leadership of this group of rebels is a problem for my plans.” I plainly tell the man and all those present. “I intend to destroy Nobility to put a true end to persecution and privilege.” The younger woman and the officer nod in agreement, they likely argued for this before or thought of it. “But your agreement with other Noble houses which led you to this point and your continued deals with Nobles mean you're in no way committed to the same goals as I am.”

“Again, I've no idea what you're speaking of.” Sykus denies. “These accusations are preposterous.”

“We'll find out soon enough.” I calmly respond. “We're all going to the parley and putting an end to this siege.”

“I won't allow you to deliver me to the Queen's Court, Jessica Freepath.” The rebel coldly responds. “It would result in my death as certainly as losing my head here would.”

I frown because, while I don't have an issue killing the man now for the responsibility he holds in the deaths of those fighting under his command, it would undermine my already precarious position in the minds of these rebels.

“I'll have the Exemplar guarantee your safety from Mirus on his name, you will be able to leave the parley when it ends without being stopped.” I tell him.

“Is this your mission? To forcefully have me attend this parley?” Sykus asks with narrowed eyes. “I recall Duchess Lance's mother is an Exemplar, is she the one putting this talk together?”

“No, Exemplar Siegfried is.” I utter with a frosty tone. “And, I will repeat myself for the last time, I act on my own wishes. Had you not attempted to flee, I would have been content to see you attend parley.”

“My life is what holds this rebellion together.” Sykus says, causing me to scoff. He continues while ignoring me and the rapier threatening his life. “If the guarantee holds, then I will go. But, as I've stated before, my presence will seriously limit the outcome of the talks as neither Mirus' Nobility nor the Order will grant me pardon.”

“Since we've reached a consensus, Miss Freepath, would you withdraw your rapier as a gesture of goodwill?” Beard cuts in.

I glimpse to the tense bodyguards and then to Sykus who sustains my gaze with a serious expression. I use my flow to blow my umbrella up in the air. As it rises, I withdraw my rapier with a flick of my wrist and thrust it back in the sheath concealed inside the handle. Tchuk.

“Let's go then.” I speak up with a wide grin.

Sykus nods with a thin smile on his ugly mug. I recognize the look of a schemer but let it pass as he turns to walk back to his bodyguards who move up to him.

None of them have put their blades back in their scabbards, which amuses me to the point I let a short laugh out. As the sounds leave my lips, three of them leap forth to strike me down while the rest of the dozen fan out to flank me.

It would be best if I kill as few as possible, to make a point without antagonizing the rebels with a slaughter. I accelerate my perceptions, seize my long broadsword, and shape a sundering construct for it.

As the three swords cruise towards me, I lion's leap a single half-step back and launch a backhanded high-left to low-right slash. My blade cuts through each of theirs in turn.

The soldiers' eyes widen as they witness the pieces of sharp steel drop on the ground. I lion's strike out again to reverse the course of my broadsword, launching a diagonal low-right to high-left slash.

The first raises his left hand in a panic to block but my sword goes through his forearm like butter and then carves through his chest as if he isn't wearing a chain-mail.

The second is more prudent and had the presence of mind to apply a defensive construct as he attacked but it doesn't save him as the point of my blade enters through his left shoulder and cuts through it to open his neck.

The third tries to turn but my broadsword's point enters his jaw and then slices up to his forehead to carve through his brain. The first drops with wet noises coming from his chest as air and blood escape his lungs through the nearest exit, the gash I opened.

The second lands with dilated irises, trying to speak but only gargling sounds come out of his sliced throat. Thud. The third hits the dirt like a sack of grain as dark red blood seeps out of the cut in his skull.

The other nine bodyguards have stopped dead, frozen, from witnessing their three companions die in the span of a single moment, before they could even take positions to attack. I deactivate my perception construct.

“I would advise against attacking me, it proves hazardous to the health of most who attempt it.” I speak up, genuinely hoping they'll wise up.

“Fall back!” The unshaven officer erupts with an outraged expression.

“What is the meaning of this?! We had reached an understanding!” The twenty or so woman erupts.

“They acted on my orders, I do not believe this Jessica Freepath has our best interests at heart.” Sykus quickly intervenes, no doubt to gain control of the situation. “She is engaged to a Noble, we do not truly know this Duchess Lance and the Council ruling Izla Meria worked with the Rykz!” Boy, you screwed up. You've made sister mad.