Chapter 23: The Pious, the Enslaved, and the Desperate

Thin clouds sliced through the sky, filtering out the light from a sun falling from its apex. It failed to illuminate the cityscape. Instead, half-faded shadows crept through Ravenfall. They enveloped all in a shade that was neither bright nor dark, but something in between.

Among its many victims was Dimitry. Despite the sudden revelation that he would be sold into slavery, he had almost everything necessary to escape Ravenfall, including a source of dispelia, food, supplies, money, and even a faerie. Now only one thing remained: freeing the only person who could guide him through the world.

But first, he needed to find her.

“I need you to locate Saphiria for me,” he whispered into his cloak’s hood.

“How am I supposed to do that?” Precious asked.

“You said you can sense people with intense emotions. She should be worried, depressed, or something.”

“And do you know how many people fit those criteria? Ravenfall is filled with sorry losers.”

Dimitry clicked his teeth. Thankfully, he wasn’t out of ideas yet. “How about Gerbald and Delphine? They should be with her.”

“That doesn’t help. There must be hundreds of groups like that, and we can’t look through them all!”

A guard ran by whose head twisted and turned to scan every direction. They were out in droves. Among them, ominous knights in crimson armor wielding nasty weapons.

Were they looking for someone? Was that someone Dimitry? While invisible, he rushed through the streets kicking up dirt and gravel. It made sense that the city was on high alert, looking for the ‘disappearing man’.

Time was running out.

Dimitry kicked a loose rock, which pounded into the wall of an inn. There were multiple churches in Ravenfall, and he didn’t know which one Saphiria was in. He didn’t have the luxury of visiting them all. By the time he found her, the re-enchantment ceremony would be over. She would tell all, and their futures would be slavery.

His foot pulled back to punt another rock when a mounted horse galloped past him. He pivoted, ready to run. Instead, the animal dashed away, leaving behind a cloud of dust.

Dimitry’s face shot up. Why didn’t he think of it sooner? “How about horses?”

“Is this really the time for dumb games?”

“Remember when you sensed the oxen’s emotions? Can you do the same for horses?”

Precious paused. “Yeah, but how does that help?”

“The two horses we found in Delphine’s stable—they should be together. I want you to look for them.”

“Oh, that’s pretty smart. So the prideful one and the nervous one…” she trailed off as if entering a meditative trance.

An ally with the ability to detect animal emotions was indispensable. Ravenfall didn’t house many horses. Since they required food, shelter, and maintenance, they were expensive assets affordable only to the rich. To people like Delphine. That made it easy to locate her, and by extension, Saphiria.

After a brief silence, Precious spoke. “I think I found something a few hundred paces that way.” She tugged on his collar to show direction.

“Precious.”

“Yes?”

“You’re wonderful.”

“I know.”

A frigid gale irritated Dimitry’s nostrils when he quickened his gait. Although time was short, he couldn’t run. Excess speed would only draw unwanted attention from patrolmen. Anxious thoughts bombarded him the entire way.

Was it guaranteed that the scarf would negate the enchantment on Saphiria’s collar? If not, she would incapacitate Dimitry herself. And if it did, they had to escape Ravenfall afterward. That meant confronting Delphine and Gerbald, then dashing past every guard in the city. Casting invisall on himself and his horse couldn’t hide them since Saphiria’s dispelia scarf would be nearby. It was a lesson Dimitry learned when he was a beggar.

But he couldn’t stop either. Claudia knew his identity. If he returned to the brothel, she would turn Dimitry in for a reward and he would become a prisoner, a slave, or worse. Leaving Ravenfall alone was equally reckless. Fyrhounds and patrols would maim him as he blindly navigated through endless forests and fields.

Dimitry needed Saphiria’s help.

Although he scrounged together a plan along the way, he wished there was more time to prepare. Unfortunately, life was full of surprises.

Dimitry’s pace slowed when he reached a three-way intersection. A church with chiseled stone walls towered over him. By its entrance, two horses stood in wait—one black and the other white with brown spots. Identical to those he saw in Delphine’s stable.

Exhilarated by his success and anxious at his prospects, Dimitry hoped he wasn’t too late. If the re-enchantment ceremony ended, his chances of rescuing Saphiria would plummet.

He snuck around the church’s side.

“Are we r-really going to do this?” Precious asked.

“How many inside?”

“F-five. Saphiria’s near the back.”

His pulse grew wild. “Here’s the plan. I’ll eliminate the one closest to Saphiria, and you’ll cast illumina on whoever tries to attack us first. That’ll buy me enough time to wrap the scarf around Saphiria’s neck. She’ll help us disable the rest, then we’ll escape on those horses. Can I count on you to make this work?”

Precious shivered against his shoulder. “But what about me?”

“If anything goes wrong, you have my permission to fly away. No hard feelings.”

“Don’t tell me about feelings! Just promise that you’ll get me my reward!”

Dimitry wore a shaky grin. Was that the faerie’s method for coping with anxiety? “I promise. Ready?”

“Y-yeah.”

Snoozia canister in one hand and an enchanted scarf in the other, Dimitry rammed his boot into stone double doors.

They burst open to reveal a gray interior. Delphine and Gerbald jumped from a back row of pews. Blond pigtails twisting across her face, Josephine the priestess twitched her head towards the entrance.

Kneeling in front of a statue was Saphiria.

A hooded figure held their palm to her neck.

That was his target.

Dimitry sprinted, thrusting the canister forward. It was a dense brick in his hand when it collided into the hooded figure’s face.

They collapsed with a thud. Long blue hair and blood spilled out from their hood onto a stone tile floor.

Ignoring his guilt, Dimitry wrapped the enchanted scarf around a kneeling Saphiria’s neck and tied it into a knot. Mouth agape, she looked up at him with wide indigo eyes.

“Reverend Mother Marianne!” Josephine uttered. “I’ll get help!” Her boots skittered across the floor and up a staircase.

“Kill him, Saphiria!” Delphine roared, pointing at Dimitry.

Saphiria stood. “Understood.” She reached for the sheath strapped to her leg.

Dimitry stepped back. Was he too late? “Saphiria, snap out of—”

“I knew you were a conniving prick.” Gerbald approached, dagger in hand. “A prick that slugs a bishop, no less.”

Back against the wall, Dimitry’s eyes shifted from side to side. Every escape route was sealed off. A knot formed in his throat.

Saphiria pulled out her dagger, pivoted away from Dimitry, and tossed it across the room.

It pierced Delphine’s throat. Mouth open, the slaver grasped at the blade and dropped to the ground. Her body convulsed before going limp.

Dimitry remembered to breathe. “Precious, do it now!”

“Illumina!”

Light coalesced in Gerbald’s eye sockets. He stumbled backward.

Dimitry pummeled the snoozia canister into the monstrous man’s gut.

Gerbald clutched his abdomen and collapsed onto a granite floor.

“Saphiria, the horses!”

Saphiria sprinted to open the doors. She beckoned Dimitry to follow. Bells rang from the roof as they rushed into the streets.

She climbed onto the black horse and held out her hand.

Dimitry pulled himself up. “I never rode a horse!”

“Hold my waist and get as close as you can!”

He scrambled up the horse and scooched closer to Saphiria.

Before long, church bells clamored from every direction.

“Go!” Saphiria shouted.

The horse picked up speed.

Zeran knights in enchanted vestments and armor flooded into the streets. They rode atop steel-clad horses.

Dimitry bobbed up and down with the animal. Air rushed faster and faster, slamming into his eyes, making them difficult to keep open. Saphiria’s hair—exposed now that her hood flew off—scoured every crevice of his face. Precious squirmed beside his chest as she burrowed deep under his tunic.

“Where are we going?” Saphiria yelled.

Dimitry had a plan but no idea if it would work. “Are horses like oxen?”

“What are you yapping about now, Dumitry!?” Precious’s shout struggled to cut through the uproar of church bells.

“Are horses afraid of steep falls?”

“Yes!” Saphiria said.

“North exit!”

Saphiria tugged on the horse’s reins. The animal swerved into an adjacent street.

Dimitry’s hands clamped around Saphiria’s waist to prevent him from falling off the beast. He glanced back.

Gerbald chased them atop a spotted horse with Zeran knights in tow. One man per horse, they rode faster than Saphiria. In all directions, citizens pressed themselves up against building walls.

Dimitry grabbed a handful of vol pellets as they pummeled through a patrolman blocking the road. “How far?”

“Just a little further!” Saphiria said.

He steeled his nerves.

The north gate ahead was half-closed, and the gap narrowed by the second.

“Faster!” Dimitry shouted.

Saphiria leaned forward and pushed her legs into the horse’s sides. “Come on, Julia.”

The black horse accelerated. It galloped through the city gates with a second to spare.

Dimitry struggled to keep his balance as he looked back to see Gerbald and two Zeran knights close in on them. City gate sealed shut, his pursuers wouldn’t get reinforcements.

The dirt road they followed led to a long stone bridge. One that Dimitry crossed twice with every corpse delivery. He clenched the vol pellets tighter. “Drop me off on the other side!”

Saphiria’s head shot back to glance at him. “Why?!”

“I have an idea.”

“R-right.”

That was all it was. An idea. Dimitry knew that invisall affected his clothes and therefore his surroundings, but what were its limits?

The horse dashed across the bridge and slowed when it reached the dirt road on the other side. Dimitry jumped off and ran to the bridge’s edge. He placed a palm onto its stone roadway.

“Precious, go with Saphiria.”

“But I don’t like her.”

“I don’t care!”

The faerie climbed out from under his tunic. “Just… don’t die.” She spoke while hovering back. “You still owe me and stuff.”

Gerbald’s horse galloped onto the bridge, an angry giant on its back.

Dimitry’s chance.

“Invisall!”

The vol mound in his hand drained into his palm. Dimitry winced. At first scalding, but soon, like molten lava surging across his chest, it traveled into his other palm. With every bit of vol absorbed, the pain intensified. His organs felt like they were doused in oil and lit. He vomited and shook, but Dimitry didn’t remove his hand from the bridge.

His eyelids burned as they opened. Dimitry saw neither his hair, hands, or the bridge—only a raging river and a desperate man.

Gerbald clung to the reins of a panicking, upright horse. It danced on an invisible platform, let forth an ear-piercing neigh, and teetered into the waters below. Swallowed up in its current, the gargantuan man and his steed drifted away to some distant location. On the other side of the unseen bridge, two Zeran Knights wrestled for control over their armored horses.

Dimitry shuffled to his feet and limped towards his comrades. A large segment of dirt road beside the bridge went missing. Although he felt it contact his boots, it looked like a meteor crashed into the ground, exposing deeper layers of soil under a massive hemisphere of nothingness—invisall’s unintended side effect.

“Dimitry, are you okay?” Precious asked.

“I’m not sure,” he muttered.

“I hear him,” Saphiria said, “but I don’t see him.”

“He’s right here. We have to get him out of here before the feedback hits.”

The girl with raven black hair held out her hand. “Get on.”

After several failed attempts, Dimitry clambered up.

The world around him melded together. Cloudy skies and green grass and brown dirt all fused into a murky kaleidoscope of colors. They slowly faded into the distance, leaving no trace behind.

“Stay awake!” a muddled voice commanded.

As if under the effects of local anesthesia, he couldn’t feel his arms. Were they still there? Even if they weren’t, it was a fair price to pay. He was no longer anyone’s pawn. And neither was she. All was peace.

The world faded to black.