Ascension - (Alarian Warriors)

Aveyon felt like she’d been kicked in the stomach as she returned to her body. She groaned trying to move herself into a more comfortable position, the jingle of the chains reminded her that was impossible.

There was no time to waste, she had powers of her own, and she could get out of this! She might not know how to use them yet, but she was going to at least try.

She took a deep breath and released it slowly. She knew what she had to do, and she didn’t know how much time she had. Her captors could be coming in at any moment. It was odd that they hadn’t come already, but she pushed the lingering thoughts aside, focusing only on the here and now.

Her wrists would give her enough blood to do what she needed, but regardless it was going to hurt. Pushing herself up the pole to stand on tiptoes, she was barely able to reach her hands with her mouth. She bit down, hard, making an initial wound. At times like these, she wished for her fangs, but her body was no longer that of a cursed Alarian. She bit again, tearing the skin off, blood sprayed coating the shackles and herself. She hissed as she scrunched her face, pushing the pain aside, she had to act fast, or the wound would heal. She leant forward against her bindings and dug the shackles into her torn flesh. Now, she had to concentrate and work on what the goddess had told her.

Concentrating, she focused on the essence within her. Oddly, it was easier to see inside her vessel now, it glowed much brighter than it had before. She noticed that she could sense Vincent’s essence as well, but it was cut off from her currently. The ichor must be messing with their bond. Drawing on her power, as Emerald had shown her with the plant, she allowed it to leave her body and surround her wrists. Opening her eyes she noticed little streams of purple lights circling her hands, and she knew she had done it.

For the next step, she turned her attention to the damp air around her. She’d never done this before, only witnessed others fuse elements. She allowed her essence to sweep around collecting millions of tiny water particles in the air. Willing the essence to do her bidding she focused closing her eyes once again. The water in the air began to become icy cold as she fused it with her blood, connecting the water particles to the water in her blood.

Opening her eyes, she watched in awe as the blood seemed to crystallize and freeze. It didn’t take long for her body to begin to shiver, the freezing temperatures beginning to affect her. Her breath was slow and ragged, her exhales leaving puffs of white warm air in the icy atmosphere as she diligently worked to make it even colder.

The shackles were burning her skin as the temperature continued to plummet. Her teeth now chattering and her lips were blue. She slammed her shackled wrists into the pole. The loud shattering of the metal was a beautiful sound to her ears. A triumphant smile spread across her quivering lips as she felt she had finally accomplished something. The feeling was intoxicating, she felt in control, dare she say it, powerful.

It wasn’t over yet though; the cold frozen metal was still dug into the folds of torn flesh. She had to peel it from her wound, tearing the skin off to allow her hands to begin healing. She bit her bottom lip so hard, in an attempt to stop her from crying out that it had begun to bleed. Licking up the droplet, she felt relieved as her body healed quickly, the pain fading as quickly as it had come.

With her hands-free, she attempted to climb the pole. Her neck was still chained, and she didn’t want to make herself bleed more than she had to. As she moved up, her body was sticking to the icy metal. Every move meant her skin would have to peel off, leaving behind a burning redness. She ignored it, fully focused on her goal at hand.

Reaching the top, she was able to release the chains for the collar by sliding the chain loop over the top of the pole. She slid back down to the floor, now slightly lightheaded. A new feeling engulfed her; she didn’t feel quite so powerless anymore. But she didn’t let it go to her head, she wasn’t free yet, and she had used far too much energy and essence. She was already feeling fatigued.

Not bothering to find clothes, she darted outside from under the tent’s flap. Circling around the back of the small structure, she remained hidden and out of sight. Her captors appeared to be mostly men and were gathered around a campfire, some sleeping, others eating some type of slop that didn’t look appetizing.

She held the chains firmly, so they didn’t make any noise. Backing up, not letting her eyes leave the laughing men she hid herself in the tree line just outside camp. She had done it, she was out, her feet itching to run but her body cautious of the sound she was making.

About to turn on her heels, turning her back to the camp, she stopped. Could she really just leave Vincent? With every step she took away from him, her body protested. Something deep down was nagging at her to turn around, not to abandon the bond they shared.

The further away she got, the harder she was finding it to think or to even breathe. She wouldn’t get far without him... though she had gotten herself this far. So, did she really need him? And what of all the others as well? Her mind reeling, it didn’t feel right to just walk away like this. She must be insane for thinking like this. Blinking a few times to clear her vision, she studied the camp, she needed to find a weapon if she was going to make this new plan work.

Sticking low to the ground, she spotted a conveniently placed fillet knife. With each step she took around the camp she was careful to make as little noise as she possibly could. She often had to duck in and out of the shadows, waiting for people to pass. She took her time getting to the other tents, thankfully she didn’t need to check inside them, the wooden cage she came into camp with the others, was still packed to the brim with the other slaves. They had been given what looked like potato sacks to wear after their harsh bucket showers.

A wolf howled in the background, the sound making her stop dead. She swallowed the sudden lump of fear she felt and continued forward reminding herself that she was in a forest, it was only normal. Wild animals would be around, but the thing that worried her was that she knew they were attracted to the scent of blood. And she was once again covered in the sweet liquid.

Just outside the wooden cage, a man sat keeping watch. Wary of him she took a wide birth, sneaking around the back of the cage. The people inside noticed her straight away, but thankfully they didn’t make a sound. She came up to the back of the cage, and a few people moved to block her from the view of the campfire, she nodded her thanks.

“Did anyone see which one has the key?” she asked in a very low whispered voice.

A few nodded and a man close by whispered back. “The one with the whip on his belt has it.”

A woman inched closer. “You came with the demon, didn’t you?” She asked.

Aveyon’s eyes narrowed; they thought Vincent was a demon. This can’t be good. In her moment of surprise, the woman reached out to touch her shoulder, but she stepped back out of reach. “It’s okay... they took it inside that tent there.” She pointed.

Aveyon was relieved. They had kept him close but separate from the others. “Thank you.” She answered back.

She might as well grab the key while making her way around the fire to get to the tent he was in. It sounded easy. It was not. The woman grabbed her arm before she got too far from the cage, she snatched her limb out of reach and looked up at the trapped woman confused. The woman’s eyes studied her body, and then she shrugged off her small potato sack-like blanket and handed it through the bars to Aveyon. Aveyon tilted her head at the offering dumbfounded.

“I will be back.” She whispered before taking the rags and walking silently around the side of the cage.

Rather than wrapping the material around herself, as she was sure it was intended, she used it to her advantage. Taking a deep breath, she stepped towards the fire. Thankfully the man holding the keys to freedom had his own small campfire off to the side near the cage cart.

Her feet made no sound on the light gravel, she very slowly made her way towards the man with the black whip wrapped around his waist. Stalking her prey, her heart was wildly beating in her chest, she hoped it wouldn’t give her away. She very gently wrapped the chains around her neck, she didn’t know what else to do to have them make less sound.

Aveyon stood behind the man who held the slave’s freedom, her hands shaking. She coiled the rags in her hands, holding it tightly with one hand. She readied the knife in her hands, gripping it tightly. Taking a deep breath she held it air within her lungs. She needed to be quick. She flung the material in front of the man’s face gagging him, then she shoved the knife deep into his throat. The cloth muffled his screams, she held his head firmly against her abdomen as blood gushed out and the blade jerked, cutting deeper into his body. He thrashed and her chains jiggled, her eyes darting around to see if any other nearby sleeping forms had heard. She appeared to be safe, for now.

He soon died drowning in his own blood. She released him; he fell limply to the ground, blood still pooling. Her hands were shaking now, she’d just killed somebody. He was a vile and evil man, but she had killed him. An array of emotions she thought she had locked away flooded her. She stumbled away, out of earshot, studying her bloodied hands, and she felt her stomach turn. This was his blood, she hunched over, losing control of her stomach as she threw up what little she had eaten that day.

Wiping her mouth, she quickly retrieved the key and her knife, her insides still at war with her. She cringed as it made a sickening sound as she removed the blade from his lifeless neck. She very slowly and carefully began dragging the body, moving it around the back of the cage and out of site. She darted back to the front, careful of the chains, and kicked at the dirt to cover as much of the blood as possible. It needed to look like nothing was wrong over here. She made her way back around to the rear, where the slaves easily moved to block her from view as they heard voices approaching.

“You were meant to wrap the cloth around yourself...” the woman whispered to her.

She shrugged. “It had a better use.”

The woman shook her head with a light laugh, gladly taking the key from Aveyon.

“Get yourselves out, I have to get Vincent.” She instructed but paused before she was about to leave. “Go east, search for a mist that never ends. Once there, call out that Aveyon sent you. The sanctuary will help.” She then sank back into the darkness of the nearby tree line.

She headed for the tent that held her one last step to being rid of this place. She quickly slid herself inside the tent flap trying not to make it move too much, thankfully no one besides Vincent was inside.

Vincent had been shackled to a pole like her, but his restraints were made from wood, how strange, did they really think that would work? They knew demons had inhuman strength, right? She inched herself deeper inside the tent. She noticed the wood had carvings, possibly some sort of warding. Aveyon reached out and touched Vincent’s shoulder, she whispered his name trying to wake him. When he didn’t stir, she lightly shook him. He had most likely been drugged with some sort of substance that kept him asleep and manageable.

With no response still, she sighed. “Do not be mad at me for this...” she muttered.

She slapped him. Her hand impacted hard against his cheek. He jolted awake and she cussed shaking her hand.

Vincent blinked his eyes a few more times, his face stinging. He was surprised to see her, his mind still foggy from the valerian root he had been forced to consume. When she reached for him, he cringed at how cold her hands were. She whispered her plan to him and stood back waiting for him to act. He nodded a stern look on his face, he had clearly noticed the blood that was smeared all over her body.

The wood he was bound by was enchanted to hold a demon at bay. Interesting that they had their hands on something like that, but none of the slavers appeared to be able to cast such enchantments. Though he may appear like a demon, he wasn’t. It wouldn’t hold him. He snapped the restraints with ease and strode forward taking Aveyon by surprise as he reached for her.

“Hold still” He whispered.

His hands clasped around the metal that was an annoyance around her neck. Her body stiffened, not from fear, but to simply prepare herself. Her own hands grabbed for the chains that were connected to the restraint as he broke the metal around her neck. It snapped at the weakest point, the hinge. She nodded her thanks and they both swiftly exited the tent.

Turning to check she was behind him; he couldn’t help but notice her white form. She was eerily beautiful in that moment; she looked like she belonged in the wild wilderness of the night. Even the blood that covered her made her seem like a haunted vision of danger. He rubbed his wrists and neck; the rope had left slight burns that weren’t healing on their own.

Aveyon followed close behind, they were quick on their feet, and she couldn’t help but glance over at the cage. She was happy to see the slaves cautiously exiting their prison and darting into the woods a few at a time. The woman she had given the key to leading them in their escape, she looked up spotting Aveyon and gave her a quick wave, which she returned.

They headed in the opposite direction to the slaves, as Aveyon had planned. Heading for the horses, with any luck their captors had brought along the horse with their belongings.

The thud of heavy boots running could be heard behind them. Loud shouts sounded and they knew the escape had been noticed. And not a minute too soon.

Aveyon and Vincent flew caution to the wind and ran. Reaching the horses, they found all the saddle bags still attached. It seemed they hadn’t taken the time to unload the spoils yet. Checking for her daggers she was relieved to find them, that’s all she cared for.

Vincent untied the horse and mounted the beast, holding out his hand he gestured for her to hurry. Aveyon hesitated, she glanced back to the direction the voices were coming from, then at the other horses. She ran for the other horses.

“What are you doing!?” Vincent hastily hissed.

Aveyon cut the ropes that held the horses and whacked them on the back side, setting every last one free. She then ran for Vincent and their horse. Grabbing his hand, she flung herself up onto the horse and held on tight as he kicked it into a gallop.

The bandits broke free from the trees as they made their getaway, disappearing into the night.