《Condemned (Old)》[Vol. 1; Chapter 7.3] - Trapped
Advertisement
A sharp pain pierces Leor’s left shoulder, stopping his path to freedom. He looks to his left and sees an arrow embedded into his shoulder. As he descends, Leor scans the rooftops and sees a dozen guards awaiting his arrival.
Fuck… Why are there so many?
Leor pulls Ceri closer, bracing himself to take the brunt of the impact. They crash into the concrete with a loud thud that rocks the area.
“Leor, are you okay!?” cries Ceri with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry for always putting you in these situations and for always getting you hurt!” She cradles Leor in her arms.
“It’s fine… Come on, let me get up… I need to get us out of here.” coughs Leor. He stumbles to his feet, reaches his hand out to Ceri, and helps her up. He carefully removes the arrow from his shoulder.
Damn it… That arrow was intentionally aiming for my previous injury. This isn’t good...
His eyes enlarge as he embraces his surroundings. A large crowd of on-lookers seemingly appear out of nowhere and numerous guards overlook them from the rooftops.
“When did all these people get here?” questions Ceri as she cups her mouth with her hands in disbelief. It is as if the whole town is here to witness a spectacle. The murmurs of the crowd make it seem like they don’t know why they are there either.
The tapping of metal against wood, as loud as a ringing bell tower, silences everyone. A gentleman stands at the source of the commanding echo, atop the tallest building, overlooking the crowd. Light shines directly above him, casting a shadow over his figure, making it hard for anyone to put a face to the man.
It isn’t until he amplifies his voice through a magic circle in the air, does Leor and Ceri’s blood begins to boil.
“Good Afternoon, people of Logtown. I know you are wondering why I had the guards gather so many of you here. Rest assured, your time shall not be wasted.” He clears his throat. “My name is Afzal Gwynevere, I am a holy agent of the Licht Order. Some of you may not be familiar with what I do. All you need to know is this: I carry out Master Gwyn's Justice.”
Afzal points his gaze and hand at Leor.
“Here, we have someone who is a non-believer. A man who disregards the gifts from the Gods and the peaceful times that we live in. The Gods have freed us from the Old Ones during the Great Calamity, and this man here has the audacity to reject our saviors.”
A collective gasp and leers of disgust jab at Leor and Ceri.
Leor glances at Ceri. She clings onto him, damping his sleeve with tears.
I guess this day is a little too much for her…
Afzal commands silence from the audience once more with a simple raise of his hand.
“Now, now. Quell your anger for now. As many of you know, people like him are not uncommon, but his actions against the Gods deserve retribution. He and his vile accomplice attacked me and my men! He attacked an agent of the Gods and his actions are unforgivable! He and the woman need to be punished, here and now!”
The guards aim their crossbows at Leor and Ceri.
Advertisement
Leor pulls Ceri in close and draws both his swords.
“Is he insane!? Even for a crazed fanatic, this is going overboard!” says Leor.
Ceri shields herself by sticking as close to Leor as possible, while still giving him room to move.
“Afzal is out of his mind. A public execution!?”
Leor senses an incoming object from behind his gaze and slashes it in half. Red splatters onto his blade and a bit on his face.
A tomato?
A few more objects fly towards them and he cuts them in half. Again, more tomatoes splatter them with red mush.
The antsy crowd shouts ill-remarks at them as they toss more tomatoes.
“Learn some respect!”
“How dare you insult the Gods with your actions!”
“You must repent for your sins, you lost child!”
They continue to bombard them with the red fruit.
“Well, this is stupid,” says Leor as he continues casually slicing away at the flying fruit.
“Yeah… this is a little embarrassing, but it's not too bad,” says Ceri.
Leor’s sense of danger spikes for a brief second. He notices an abnormally fast object being hurled at him. He tilts his head to the right, but the solid object grazes his cheek and knocks his hood off as it flies past him. A streak of blood slowly drips from his freshly revealed face. He fixes his eyes at the person who threw it.
Afzal now stands on the same grounds. He juggles a rock the size of a fist in one hand and looks at them with a spiteful grin.
“My fellow God-loving people, there is no need to hold back. The lost soul will not learn if we go easy on him with mere fruit. We MUST teach them a lesson. Etch his face into your memories as we show him the strength of our faith!” Afzal pumps the rock in his hand into the air, igniting the passion of the people, and flings the rock at Leor.
Leor shatters the rock. Another rock is flung at him, but this time it’s from someone in the crowd. It seems the crowd is taking Afzal’s bait and is chucking rocks at the two. Leor easily evades the slower-moving projectiles. He squeezes the handles of his weapons as tight as he grits his teeth. A gentle tug on his sleeve calms him. Ceri looks at him with a pleading gaze.
“Leor, I know you’re angry… I’m angry too. But… Please don’t harm them... They’re all being manipulated by him.”
Leor lets out a small chuckle. He can’t believe she is still thinking about others despite them trying to publicly exile them. “Fine, I’ll do my best.” He turns his head to face Ceri and sees a speeding arrow darting at her. He steps in front of her and covers her with his right arm. Slashes at the arrow with his left sword, deflecting it. A well-placed rock connects with Leor’s open left shoulder. He grunts in pain, dropping to one knee.
Ceri rushes to his side. She glances at the crowd and sees them hurling more rocks at them. She shields Leor with her body. The rocks hail down on her. Ceri bites her lip and shuts her eyes, enduring the repetitious pain.
Anger fills Leor as he watches Ceri take blow after blow. He pulls her to the floor and protects Ceri by hovering over her prone body. Leor winches at the pelting rocks, but the only pain he feels is the fact that he is failing at the one job Alden assigned him.
Advertisement
“You need to take better care of yourself… otherwise I’ll get angry. Leave the protecting to me.” grins Leor.
Ceri laughs at his mocking remark. “Thanks, Leor.”
The hailing rocks stop. Leor slowly rises to his feet but is met with a blunt force to his stomach. He crashes onto the floor, gripping his abdomen in pain, gasping for air.
Ceri reaches her hand out to Leor as she screams his name. Pressure to her chest stops her cries. Afzal stands before her with his boot planted on her torso. The same malicious grin that she saw in Thalassa emerges onto his face.
“I’ll deal with you later.” laughs Afzal. He struts over to Leor.
“Well, well, well. So your name is Leor, huh? You never did tell me your name when you brutishly attacked me. I’ll admit, you surprised me with how skillful you are with a blade, but you made one error...” Afzal kneels down and grinds his knee into his chest until he can hear bones crunching. “You should’ve killed me.”
Afzal stands up and paces around Leor in a circle like a shark preying on its food. The heat from the sun curdles the blood on Leor’s cheek. He squints at Afzal and laughs, “I don’t want your shitty blood on my sword. It’s not good for the blade.”
“Keep laughing. You won’t be able to for long. See, your type is too predictable. Based on our previous encounter, I already knew you would be hard to capture by force. With the help of a certain shopkeeper, I was able to pinpoint where you were headed. Your type likes to play hero, so I knew you would try to avoid any lethal confrontation as much as possible. All I needed to do was trap you here.”
“So what?”
“‘So what?’ Before I send you off to die, along with that wench over there, I’ve gathered all these people here to publicly exile you and the wench from society. You and anyone related to you will be hated and shunned for generations.”
“Tsk. You think I give a shit about any of that? I have no family and I’m already shunned by you God-loving hypocrites.”
“Funny, your friend from the inn said the same thing. Pity, he seemed like a nice man. You will share a similar fate.”
Leor springs at Afzal. His blazing rage is extinguished with a backhand to the face. Leor is tossed back to the ground. He glares at Afzal with a stinging cheek.
“Please. You can’t handle me in that state. Even if you were to pull off some kind of miracle, you can’t escape without killing anyone. Go ahead and try! Prove to the people that your kind is as villainous and demonic as those barbarians from the East!” Afzal lets out a victorious laugh that pricks at Leor’s ears.
He towers over Leor, looking down at him like he was nothing more than an insect. “I’ve already called in an executioner, but before he gets here, I think I’ll have a little more fun tormenting you. But first, the girl.” Afzal walks over to Ceri with a lecherous smile. Leor slams his fist into the ground. The shockwave freezes Afzal in place. He inches his eyes over his shoulder to peer at the magnetically menacing aura behind him.
The damage from the earlier attacks still chains Leor to leaning against his sword, but the glare in his eyes is enough to remind Afzal about their previous encounter.
“Don’t you dare… touch her.” The sun disappears behind dark clouds that corrupt the blue sky. Despite his heavy breathing shaking his speech, the weight of his threat breaks Afzal’s confidence. He struggles to adjust his collar and swallows the little saliva left in his mouth. He can feel the crowd’s gaze honing in on his loss of composure.
“I-it seems you are too dangerous to be left alive. I’ll handle the girl later.” Afzal lifts his trembling hand. The guards glue their aim at Leor, waiting for the signal to fire.
Leor stumbles to his feet and tilts the tip of his blade at Afzal. He fights his sword’s urge to rest on the ground. The same can be said for his eyelids and the rest of his body, but something deep inside him is forcing his muscles and joints to resist the temptation of rest. The sight of Ceri laying on the floor in pain and the fact that Leor let this happen hardens his resolve to protect her.
Afzal’s eyes begin to shake as he watches a wild beast getting ready to pounce on its prey. The two lock eyes in some kind of mental game. The world falls silent as if the chanting crowd disappeared. Every fiber of their being twitches at the slightest movements from their opponent. The air seems to thin as they circle around each other, suffocating them.
A single drop of sweat initiates their final bout.
“ENOUGH!” A harrowing roar strikes fear into everyone around the area. Everyone, including Leor and Afzal, stand paralyzed by the bone-chilling voice. A bright yellow light radiates from above the crowd. A shadowy figure with giant wings made of light, which dispels the black sky and reveals the shining sun, descends into the middle of the commotion, where Ceri rests.
“An angel!” shouts multiple people from the crowd. The crowd and the guards on the rooftops fall to their knees like dominos, kowtowing before the god-like being.
Afzal fumbles backward. “T-those are wings of Gwyn!”. Leor switches his gaze back and forth from a distraught Afzal and the ominous being.
Wings of Gwyn? Another one of those ‘Gifts’?
It speaks in a strong, authoritative yet vaguely familiar voice. “Is this what the Licht Order teaches to its followers!?” As it props onto the floor, the wings made of light dissipate into the air. With the artificial light now gone, the being’s figure reveals the man hidden from the shadows. The man reaches into his robe and feeds Ceri a mysterious greenish-blue liquid from a flask. Ceri jolts up, and pats herself down.
“I’m fine now!” cheers Ceri. She gazes at the man who helps her to her feet. “L-lord Alden!?
Advertisement
- In Serial34 Chapters
Old Riding Author Lunatic Asylum
Just off the A19, in the dark, incomprehensible lands known as Yorkshire, there lies a town. A town where shadow-silent alleys glint with the secret hunger of knives. Where blood soaks the chipboard window shutters of forsaken terraces stretching off into the night. Where the smog-choked air rattles with the depraved laughter echoing out from clubs that can only generously be described as post-apocalyptic. Well, that’s Middlesbrough. But down the A19 a bit (an impossibly long way down, actually) there lies another town: Raughnen, in the ancient, forgotten Old Riding. It is an equal match in muggery and thuggery alike. It also has magic spells and pointy wizard hats. And now, across the miles and across all sensibilities, a pretty nasty power (a magic one) calls out for its pretty nasty counterpart (a decidedly unmagic one): a proper sound Boro lad. Nothing good can come of it. This is a collection of one novella and four connected short stories: I. A Yorkshire Summoning II. Old Riding Day Trip (the novella) III. Heaven is a Parmo IV. Death on the 66 V. Death on the 257 In total, this comprises 34 chapters totalling around 35,000 words, so try not to worry. It will be over relatively quickly. There are three more short stories with more tenuous links to the core collection: Rush, Paper Round and Scenario 79: Sausage Fingers, all of which can be found in my collection Short Records of Misadventure. Reading these may allow you to make more sense of certain parts of the story, if any sense is to be made at all. NOTE: There are instances of prejudice and discrimination within these stories, including elements of sexism and ageism, which are purely the thoughts and actions of the characters involved and which certainly do not reflect my own views on these matters. ANOTHER NOTE; A WARNING, PERHAPS: This can get a bit weird. In less than 150 pages, we have four viewpoints, first and third person narratives, and a completely disjointed plot with lots of gaps, dead ends and no real resolution. Also ZERO lunatic asylums. It's all a bit odd. If that sort of thing isn't your cup of tea, which it most likely isn't, it might be best to move on now.
8 222 - In Serial43 Chapters
The Thread Bearer
Mersault Star had everything he wanted out of life before modernity through the mega-corp Zambezi took his livelihood away. Craving purpose, Star is reborn in another world. Now with a new set of abilities, he will navigate a fantasy world for a second chance at his dream; to be a world-class tailor. The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this story are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred. This story and other ones that I post on RoyalRoad are strictly made for my own amusement and experience. If you are paying for this, you are getting duped and receiving no extra content.
8 131 - In Serial71 Chapters
IAT
TO BE REBOOTED ELSEWHERE.
8 168 - In Serial31 Chapters
daddy issues - jj maybank (j.m)
"why do you even care jj?!""because i love you"- lowercase intended.
8 103 - In Serial9 Chapters
Kookmin Fan Art (one shots)
ဒီထဲမှာတင်မယ့်Fan art တွေရဲ့ Opအားလုံးကို Creditပေးပါတယ်ရှင်🤍
8 69 - In Serial94 Chapters
Sinner
Random stories na nabasa ko
8 233

