The Wandering Witch VOL. 1 - The Prelude Arc (COMPLETED)

6.3| A Public Execution II

    In front of Chell, Noct moved like a quick wind. From the beginning, she was never good with activities that involved moving a lot. Rather, the witch loathed any act that required more effort than walking. Running, of course, was one of them. However, with the present situation at hand and with their lives at stake, it was unavoidable. Chell had to use all of her regained energy which the skull had provided just to keep up with him. The thief was almost dragging her instead of leading the way.

   Noct led her down the side of the stands, running past the steps as though it hadn't been frozen. Chell managed to keep her balance as she followed him, her eyes staring at her hands that were clutched tightly in his. Her heartbeat accelerated with every passing second. When they stepped off, chaos was still ensuing around them, although the number of people had clearly lessened. Guards were now arriving on the scene, their heavy armors clanking as they ushered people into safety, seemingly not aware that there wasn't even anything to protect them from. Since they failed to recognize Chell and Noct's appearances in the confusion, both of them managed to silently slip through the crowd unnoticed. A few townspeople who seemed to know saw them from afar but merely looked on silently, their eyes filled with fear and some, hatred. Chell looked away from their gaze, tightening the grip she had on the skull as it continued to provide her strength.

    She turned her head to look back at the stands, realizing that Worick and the dead were still locked in their dangerous duel. He had not noticed Chell and Noct leave. Even from afar, she could see that the hunter was furrowing his eyebrows, crying out in fury as he continued to charge at the vengeful spirit in indignation. He had more wounds than before, she noticed. A deep cut was embedded into his left arm, and it was his movements that seemed sluggish now compared to before. The look of triumph from his face had disappeared, replaced with strain. It was clear to see that he had not expected Chell to maintain the summoning for this long. By then, it occurred to her that their fight was already pointless. Now that Chell had taken back her catalyst and had a sufficient amount of mana in hand, the winner was inevitable. In a quick decision, she willed the dead to come back to where it belonged, extinguishing its anchor to the material realm. It had served its purpose enough since, after all, it was meant to be the distraction for their escape.

   Chell felt the tug of mana from inside of her respond. Meters away, the silhouette of the knight froze in the middle of swinging its weapon. Seeing of this as a chance, Worick quickly struck down with his axe. Before the blade connected, however, the knight suddenly lost its solidity and melted into frozen floor. The shadows that it had been made from dispersed and broke into all directions before disappearing altogether.

     Worick faltered, taking a step back with a startled look. Then, in a quick realization of what had happened, he snapped his head towards the crowds, scanning the faces of the people with bloodshot eyes, no doubt looking for them. It was then, as if guided by chance and luck, impossibly, Worick's eyes found Chell's-—but not before being cut off by a brick wall as she and Noct slipped into an alley.

    A cloud of dread came over Chell. He saw me.

    Immediately, the world dimmed by as they entered the darkness of a building's shadow. Noct led her deeper into the alley, moving through the labyrinthine twists and turns and not hesitating in his tracks. It was as if he had etched the map of the place in his mind. Overhead, night was gradually overtaking the light, which the thief had deemed a good thing. If Chell and Noct could evade any more misfortunes until nightfall, then there was the possibility of a chance for escape. Come morning, she could easily slip past the gates through a carriage that led outside of the kingdom if she wanted to. Then she'd safely leave this place.

   As they forged deeper, the amount of people lessened and disappeared. So did the noise. Soon, it was only their footsteps that were heard, echoing clearly through the narrow pathways they treaded past, their huffing breaths loud in their ears. Each alley that the thief chose to turn to seemed identical to the next, and Chell wondered how long they would have to continue to run. No... rather, how long had they been running? Was it only minutes? Or had an hour already passed? She shook her head, blinking her eyes momentarily. She was losing her sense of time, one of the clear signs of a drawback. She shook her head once more. No. Not yet.

    Then without any warning, Noct suddenly stopped and abruptly let go of her hand, pushing her away. Chell's eyes widened in surprise, startled by his actions. She stumbled back. She looked at him, and, for a fraction of a second, was plagued with a dull feeling of fear at the back of her mind at the thought that he might have changed his mind and decided to discard her once again. However, that was instantly erased when an arrow embedded itself onto the ground where they had been standing just a moment before.

   Immediately, she caught Noct's eyes. They formed a quick and silent understanding. Simultaneously, both looked above them, squinting to see through the glare of the sun. Chell immediately recognized the archer from the stands. He was perched high on top of the tiled roof, weapon trained at the ready and pointed in their direction. From the way it looked to Chell, he had been tracking them after he had earlier disappeared.

    A moment next, the sound of sharp footsteps echoed from the direction in front of the witch and the thief, and they removed their gaze from above. Chell and Noct realized that there was someone standing just a few feet away. Squinting less, Chell made out the silhouette of a person hidden in the darkness of the building. No. There were actually two of them, the other one standing a little behind the first, hidden in the shadows. As they slowly stepped into the light, the first thing that was illuminated were the metallic glint of two long scimitars held tightly by two hands. Then, the face of the owner was brought to light as he motioned forward.

    He seemed close to the archer in age, a person somewhere in his middle ages. He wore a dark-colored chainmail and had a malicious grin on his face much like Worick's. A recent scar ran from his cheek to his chin. His hair was shaved clean off, revealing a dark tattoo of a beast marked on his bald head. His eyes were colored a deep shade of green, glinting with delight. No doubt, this person was a witch hunter. Chell felt dread. This was not a good situation.

    Then, the second one behind him also stepped into the light. This one was dressed in a long, black-colored overcoat and held a thin sword in his left hand. He looked younger. His indigo-dyed hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and his expression did not seem blood-thirsty. At the very least, his eyes looked less crazed.

    In front of her, Chell heard Noct click his tongue and noticed him balling his fists. Then, to make matters worse, she suddenly sensed someone else emerge almost noiselessly, this time from behind them. The thief was the first one to notice and quickly turn around. She followed his example, fearing the worst.

    The fourth person to arrive was shorter and thinner by some degree compared to the others, signifying that he was at least somewhere in his early twenties. He was dressed in light tiger-patterned clothes with most of his face hidden by a shawl. Intricate red marks covered his bark-colored skin. In his hands, he was holding a collection of small and thin blades that gleamed wickedly. A dagger meister, like Noct.

Things were not looking good for Chell and the thief. With two witch hunters in front, one from behind, and one from a vantage point above, they had no way for an easy escape. Their numbers were too many to be a mere coincidence. They must have planned for this to happen. Chell and Noct were surrounded. Trapped, like prey who had fallen into a predator's clutch.

    For a few tense seconds, no one dared to move or say a single word.

    Then, the first hunter with the dragon tattoo stepped forward, acting as the voice of the others.

    "Sorry," he said aloud, not sounding sincere at all, "but I need you both to die here."

  

----> thank you for reading!

Q:

Will Chell and Noct be able to escape safely?