The Weight of Blood - Part 1/2

“We know it's one of you.”

The nameless guard's voice cut through the stale air of the dark cavern seconds after storming into the underground tavern. He wore a traditional black long coat with dark green zigzag patterns running vertically, as was custom for a Solazor Guard, but with three dark brown lapels on his right shoulder marking him as the Captain.

“We know you're in here.” He said, his eyes scanning the tavern, darting from face to face, young, old and terrified. He didn't have a name or a description, he could only try to decipher facial expressions, but that wasn't getting him anywhere. He searched for a twitch or a bead of sweat but the crowd was a blur of fear.

Either everyone in the tavern didn't know who the teleporter was, or, they were all hiding the fugitive.

The Captain then said something in a sharp guttural tongue that no one understood, and levelled his pike towards a man in the crowd. With a sickening lurch the man lifted off the ground to shouts and cries around him, and was pulled slowly towards the guard.

“I'll say it again… whoever you are, we know you're in here.” The Captain was terrifyingly calm as the man was slowly floating towards his outstretched pike.

A woman in the crowd cried out in hysterics, pleading with the guards, screaming at them that they didn't need to do this. The Captain noticed her resistance.

So, he thought, they won't give it up easy. Good.

The tip of his pike sunk into the man's abdomen, and he cried out in pain. The sound echoing off the cavern's walls. The woman behind him screamed again, begging.

“Shut her up.”

The sound of metal hitting bone rang out and turned the cavern into a suffocating silence, broken only by the man pinned on the end of his pike. He whimpered, gripping the pike handle trying to stop himself being pushed on further.

Don't kill anyone, you can hurt them, but don't kill. It's too much paperwork.

His orders were clear, he'd seen men before him disobey, and that's why he had been promoted so quickly. Those men before him simply disappeared.

The Captain sighed, bored, and spoke again in that same guttural tone. The man stopped sliding down the pike after just a few inches, and the captain stared into the eyes of his victim as he slowly pulled the long weapon out.

Still floating, the man slumped in mid air, hanging for what seemed like minutes, but in reality was merely seconds and then he fell to the floor, in agony.

It was time for his back up plan.

"Bring them in.” He called.

The guards behind him ushered in a man and a boy, they looked like father and son. The man was short, chubby, balding, but smiling, a happy face. The boy no older than ten, walked in a step ahead of him, being guided by the man's hands on his shoulders, they walked into the center of the room. The man was still smiling, apparently happy to be here.

They stood there in the centre of the room, and the guard nodded to them. The smiling man took out a vial, full to the brim with a green bubbling liquid in it, and handed it to the closest person in the crowd - a woman, roughly thirty-five or forty maybe.

“Throw it at our feet.” He instructed the woman.

He then explained, casually, like a merchant selling his wares that inside the vial was an acid that would kill them both slowly, and with intense pain. But he was certain that the teleporter would not let them die.

He smiled wider. “The teleporter won't let us die,” he said gently. “They never do.”

His hands tightened around the boys shoulders.

"That's how we know we're righteous.” He nodded towards the lady with the vial, telling her again to throw it.

The Captain used the butt of his pike to crack the head of the whimpering man who was pressing his hands against the gash in his gut. Annoyed with the sounds the man was making, he hit him again, hard. Knocking him out. He then turned his attention to the woman with the vial, spinning the pike back around and threatening her with the weapon.

The message was clear.

If you don't throw that vial. We'll get someone who will.

Not seeing a way out of this situation without many more people dying, especially the kid, Celeste sighed. She had been watching from the sidelines, her blue eyes initially filled with determination, but gradually as time had moved on the determination had quelled and turned into apprehension.

She'd assumed, hoped and prayed that Henri wouldn't be killed by the Captain. She had known that he would have given his life to protect her, as would anyone in this room, and that had been the plan. But how could she sit idly by, and watch as the corruption of the country barged into their safehouse waving their egos around and stabbing anyone who got in the way?

She couldn't.

And now, she had an immense sense of guilt at giving herself up. If she'd turned herself in two minutes ago, Henri would be unhurt.

She jumped, popping into existence behind the devotee, her dark brown hair undisturbed under her hood, as if she'd not moved an inch.

A few murmurs of alarm, quickly quelled and poorly hidden by fake coughs, could be heard from the guards. Whereas quiet whispers of curses and outrage could be made out from the people Celeste couldn't meet in the eye.

She'd failed. Her job was to not be discovered. This was her first big test, and until now, she'd managed seventeen years. She looked down, disgusted in her own self strength. But she kept asking herself, how could she sit by, and watch?

You should have found a way.

The leader of the resistance’s voice popped into her head, and although she'd not heard those words said to her directly. She could hear them. As if he'd spoken them from standing right next to her.

“Throw.” The command broke Celeste out of her reverie and back to reality. Her eyes lifted from the floor to notice four pikes had been levelled towards Sian. The guards had inched closer, and it was the captain of the guard who had decided that just her showing herself wasn't enough. For some reason, he wanted her to jump the devotee and the kid somewhere else.

So she did.

She saw Sian, fear flooding her eyes as she raised her throwing arm.

Celeste jumped.

The only place she'd thought to go which could be safe was…. Not here.

In shock, she stood with one hand on the devotees’ shoulder, the other limp by her side. Where the hell was she?

It looked like a church, although none that she'd ever been to, which was strange in itself - she'd never jumped anywhere she'd not been before, as far as she was aware, that was impossible.

It was huge, the ceilings rose so high she could barely make out the detailed painting on the roof. The ornately carved pillars, evenly spaced apart were taller than any building she'd been in. The pews - every seat filled - went back so far she was sure the people at the back couldn't see a thing.

A collective gasp arose from the crowd of onlookers, Devotees, Celeste assumed. Her assumptions proved correct, as seconds after the gasp had stopped reverberating around the large cavernous church, a low hum started. One of the Devotees, she couldn't place which - a woman, she was sure - started to sing. Quietly, and quickly like a wave breaking on a beach, the people around her joined in, until the whole congregation had joined in singing the hymn.

“Why of all places, did you come here?” The familiar sound of the voice, just loud enough to be heard over the ever rising sound of the hymn, shocked her more than the breaking of the silence did. She turned to see Javier, the leader of the resistance, on the floor behind the devotee. She quickly surmised that he must have realised she would jump, and decided it best he came with her, so he leapt and touched the closest jumpee. Who happened to be the fat smiling man, and ended up on the floor behind them.

Celeste pulled her eyes away from Javier, and continued to look around. It was at this point she realised they were standing front and centre on a raised platform. A loud clunk drew her attention to the back of the church, straight down the middle aisle.

The doors swung open and the King marched in, his green royal cloak flowing behind him. The hymn singing, which had begun to sound like deranged chanting to Celeste's ears, stopped suddenly. He was flanked by eight armour clad figures, the black with green trim marking them as the Kingsguard. Celeste had only ever seen paintings of the King, and never seen him in person, but she couldn't help but feel like his face was… familiar. Not being able to place it, she almost dismissed it entirely, but kept it in the back of her mind.

Having heard stories of the King's ruthlessness growing up, and was rooted to the spot in fear.

Javier pushed himself up onto his knees, a sneer on his face. “Get us out of here Celeste."

It snapped her out of her momentary freeze, and she shunted her foot back so he could grab hold. The moment she felt his hand touch her leg, she closed her eyes, and jumped.

And… nothing. She felt… nothing at all at all.