Life and Death - Chapter 22 - Aster
Warning: more non-graphic character death. Back to Aster and her current situation... also a long awaited plot twist at the end!
The darkness of my power rose up within me, hot and churning as I stood up in my cell. Striding to the door of my cell, I laid one hand on the bars. One touch and they crumbled to ash.
Shouts and cries rose up from the other prisoners as I stepped into the corridor. Some were shouts of alarm and fear, others pleas of freedom. I didn’t listen to them. The racket they were making was going to bring down the peacekeepers on us sooner rather than later and I needed to deal with them before anything else happened. And retrieve my stuff before I got as far away from this place as possible.
Sure enough, as I started toward the stairway that led up to the ground floor of the building, an alarm bell began to ring, followed soon after by clattering footsteps, growing nearer as they pounded down the stairs. I stood still, spreading my hands out at my sides, bringing the power that boiled in me to the surface, ready to unleash at a moment’s notice. I didn’t have my weapons, but I did have this, and in my mind, that was far more valuable.
It’s different, I told myself. They aren’t innocents this time. They actively locked me up, tried to stop me from fulfilling my goal. They are the enemy.
It was probably just as well that I might not return from my confrontation with Lars. I would never be able to live in peace here once all this was over.
The first peacekeepers appeared at the base of the stairs, arms with pistols and their stun weapons. Formidable to be sure, but nothing I couldn’t handle.
It was them who wouldn’t be able to handle me.
I launched myself forward as the foremost two advanced. They moved to stop me with their stun weapons, but I ducked as first one, then the other, swept over my head. I wrapped one hand around one’s ankle, and slapped wildly at the other peacekeeper. I didn’t stop to see if it had worked, just righted myself and attacked the next ones.
Only four or five had made it down to the cell level, and I made quick work of them. As the last one thudded to the floor, I noticed that my hands were glowing purple, almost like they were on fire, and a strange rushing filled my ears. I’d never used my power this many times in quick succession before; I supposed this was a new side effect I hadn’t been aware of. But more power than ever was rushing through my veins, there was no chance I was going to stop now. I started up the stairs as the alarm bells continued to ring, a loud clanging noise that grated against my ears. I made a mental note to try and shut those off as more peacekeepers ran to gather at the head of the stairway. They didn’t carry stun weapons… just pistols, which I had no doubt were fully loaded.
This was going to be tricky.
They raised their weapons and I prepared to flatten myself on the safest surface possible once they fired, even as I pushed myself ever faster up the stairs, on the off chance that I would get there first and fell them before they had a chance.
Bang!
I dropped, lying full length across the stairs as the shots whistled through the air above my head. The peacekeepers were going to have to reload before they fired again though, so I was up again and running towards them as the peacekeepers all scrambled back into the hallway, expressions of fear taking over their features. I imagined that I painted a fairly terrifying picture: a woman charging up the stairs toward them, her hands enveloped in purple flames and her face distorted in a glower. I wouldn’t be surprised if my eyes were glowing, but I didn’t really know for sure.
One could dream though.
I jumped the last few steps and within seconds, I was among them, seizing their wrists and redirecting their arms as they tried to bring their pistols to bear on me once more. A second shot rang out, very close to my ear and a hot pain burned across the side of my head. I didn’t drop immediately, though, so I assumed that I’d just been grazed and not hit dead on. I turned toward the offender and punched him in the face. He dropped without so much as a yelp.
The burning sensation from my wound faded beneath the adrenaline, but I could still feel something warm trickling down the side of my face. The rushing had crescendoed to a roar and I couldn’t hear anything else. With great difficulty, I forced the power back into my gut where it belonged. A feeling of nausea bloomed as it immediately demanded to be let back out as the purple flames died and the sound in my ears faded. Once I was certain I wasn’t going to turn anything to ashes, I quickly snatched up two of the pistols from the fallen men and dashed down the hallway. One more stop, and then I was getting out of here.
And back where I belonged.
I slammed my shoulder into what I determined was the right door, breaking through it upon impact. A startled peacekeeper startled up from his desk; the golden highlights on his pure white uniform indicated that he was some kind of captain.
His face quickly went from shock to anger.
“What are you doing?” he demanded. “How did you get out of your cell?”
“I walked out,” I growled. “Now give me my stuff. I’m getting out of here and getting out of your way.”
His tone immediately dropped. “Not now, you aren’t, murderer.” His hand went to one of his desk drawers, where I imagined he kept his weapon.
I raised my stolen guns and fired first. One kicked in my hand as it fired, but I was met with only an empty click from the other. Its previous owner must not have had the time to reload before I’d done away with him. The captain dropped behind his desk as the successful shot whistled over his head, but there was no chance he was going to be safe there. Tossing both pistols aside, I let my power out once more as I leapt atop the desk, glaring down at the captain from a position of power.
He didn’t stay put as I reached for him, scooting away and moving deeper into the room, which was stacked with crates filled with prisoner’s personal belongings. It appeared I had guessed right on where my bag was. The captain’s hands were fiddling with his weapon and I knew I was going to have to keep an eye on that. Maybe put it out of commission.
Maybe just touching it would do the job.
I leapt off the desk, angling so I would come down on top of him and end this quickly, but he was fast. I slammed into the floor a little harder than I would have liked, but quickly spun around to face him as the captain prepared to fire his weapon again. One of my own discarded pistols lay not too far from my foot, and I kicked it toward the captain, hoping that I would be able to trip him up. It did nothing, although the captain did glance down to see what it was. I tried to make use of his brief distraction to get closer, but once again, he saw me coming and sidestepped as I reached for him. With one hand, he reached up and wrapped his fingers around my arm, which was covered by my sleeve. Yanking me around, he pulled me against him, placing his gun to my already bleeding head.
“Two choices,” he hissed in my ear. “Either return quietly to your cell or die right here and now.” He gripped me tighter. “It would be a pity to get blood all over the floor.”
I gasped, knowing that we would probably pull the trigger. “It would be a pity if you lost your job,” I snarled back. I scrabbled with my hands to try and find some bare skin that I could murder him with, but the man was too smart for his own good. He was wearing gloves.
“Hold still!” He growled. “Death right now it is, then.”
“Not today!” I stomped down hard on his foot, which did enough for him to loosen his grip enough that I was able to wiggle free. I kicked him in his knee and the captain yelled as he fell. Stepping forward, I planted one foot firmly on his wrist, knocking the pistol out of his hand and spinning across the floor. I stepped over him so I could look him in the eye, and something about my expression scared him enough that he didn’t struggle, but just stared back at me with a fearful expression.
Leaning over, I fixed my full gaze on him. “You tried to stop me,” I said softly. Silkily. “Naughty boy. You don’t stop people with missions that have nothing left to lose. Not unless you want to live. And unfortunately for you, you’ve made that mistake.”
The captain seemed to be struck speechless, which was fine by me.
“Too late, Captain,” I whispered, leaning even closer. “No take backs.” Reaching out, I gently stroked my fingers down the side of his face. My power did its job and within moments, he had gone still and stiff, his blank eyes staring past me, through the ceiling, and into nothingness.
I straightened, forcing my power back into its box as I wiped blood out of my eye. The adrenaline rush was starting to fade, and the injury was starting to sting. Not that it was going to stop me. Doing a quick scan of the room, I quickly spotted my bag tossed carelessly on top of a nearby crate. Walking over, I yanked it open and performed a quick inspection. My knives were there, and so was all the food and the money tucked safely away in the bottom. They must not have gotten around to going through it, or the papya would have been gone for sure.
I strapped on my knives, fitting the belt comfortably around my waist, and slung the bag over my shoulder. Stepping past the cold body of the captain, I left the room and darted down the corridor to the door at the end. No one else tried to stop me; even the alarm bells had gone silent. Soon, I pushed open the door and found myself on the streets of Whilin.
It was too bright. That was my first impression. At some point, night had given way to day, and without a cavern roof above me, the sun shone directly down on me. The warm rays might have been comforting, but this place… I associated nothing but misery with this place.
I ran. I didn’t even choose a proper direction in which to go. Just darted my way between the angular building and white streets, too clean, too sterile, as if to make up the scum that bubbled up beneath. But what I wanted was to get back underground. Back to what I was used to, back to where Lars was. I had to go… being up here felt wrong, so, so wrong. I wasn’t even sure why I was getting this sensation from the place. The curtain was still firmly descended, blocking any emotion from sneaking through.
But I was scared. That was the only way I could describe it.
I turned into a narrow alleyway, cast in shadow by the building on either side. I blindly rushed toward the far end, and slammed hard into someone, rocking them back. I felt arms on my shoulders, steading me, and I fought the urge to pull away or attack right away. I blinked up at the person, trying to refocus so I could see him. The first features were blurry, but with the brighter light than in Broton, I realized who this was a lot sooner than I otherwise would have.
I gasped and took a step back.
It couldn’t be. I’d seen him die in front of my own eyes.
Is this some kind of cruel joke?
But there was no denying who it was.
“Adyen?” I whispered through shaking lips.
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