Chương 23: Valindra - Escape

"Absolutely not!" Valindra's father had said.

"I sent you to him with one goal explicitly: to tell him no! Do not come here and try to negotiate on his behalf!"

"His points are valid! It is but a small sum in the grand scheme of things. We would have a foothold on the south—" He slapped her. Red-hot rage filled her gut; the stinging pain less of an insult than the conversation itself.

"Enough!" he roared.

"I have raised you to be capable of ruling this city when I pass away. More and more each day I learn that I have done a piss-poor job at that! You'd put Roland in charge of the entire city before my flesh even grew cold!" She had stormed out of her father's rooms, then. The bastard. His words still rang in her ears, even all these hours later. The moon beamed down silver light as Valindra fled the keep, a heavy cloak over her shoulders. He had been drunk when he uttered the words. Drunk when he slapped her.

But there was no regret in his eyes. The world was changing, and he was refusing to keep up. Let him rot. She pressed her ancient book against her chest, refusing to let it out of sight until she was out of the city proper. All she had to do was get through the city walls, and she would be free. Gone from all of this. She would join the parties of adventurers heading south, and would make a name for herself there. Leaving was easier said than done.

She rode her horse down the city streets, taking the path less traveled through each district. Every time a lantern flickered, or a guardsman's keys jingled, she paused and found a new alleyway to slink through. When was the last time she had been in the city at night? Years? A decade? Even then, she hadn't been alone. Guards had ridden at her side, their supervision an unshakable vice.

A group of drunkards stumbled out of a tavern, tripping over themselves and sending ear-piercing laughter through the cobblestone streets. Their words slurred, their wobbling movement taking them straight in her direction. Valindra pulled the hood of her cloak up, obscuring her face in shadow even further. She pulled her horse to the side to let them pass. Of the seven, six stumbled past her without sparing a second glance. With the seventh, she was not so lucky.

"Creepy fella!" the man barked.

"All wrapped up in a cloak! W-we—hic! —oughta' alert the guards!"

"Leave them alone, Ted. You're—hic! —drunk!" another shouted back.

"I'm just doing my duty as a citizen!" The words came out in a slur.

"Noooooo sketchy people at night. That's what the law says." Valindra growled.

"I suggest you keep moving, Ted."

"Whoa!" Ted stumbled back onto his ass.

"She knows my name!" The others gathered around him, picking him back up. A few gave her remorseful looks, and tried pulling him along, but he fought back.

"A demon!"

"Ted, stop! Put that away!" A knife flashed in his hand. Where he had pulled it from was a mystery. Valindra's horse whinnied, and the others screamed.

"Who gave Ted a knife?" Ted pushed out of the grip of his companions, shouting, "Die, Demon!" Valindra visualized her core, rushing through the motions of channeling her mana. She grabbed a fistful of the energy and spat, "Gistel's Whip!" From her palm, a strand of pure golden light spun outward. She gripped it tight, and whipped it at the attacker. CRACK. The whip slashed across the drunkard's face, and he yelped. He fell backward, dropping the knife and clutching the bridge of his nose.

Where the whip had struck, his skin had burned. Straight across his face, one eye had burned out, blood pouring downward. His jaw fell open, and she dismissed the spell, charging her horse forward. Valindra's heart raced. She'd never used magic against someone so blatantly before. She'd only properly learned the spell last night! The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"Holy shit!"

"That wasn't a demon, you fool! It was an angel!"

"Just a Cleric, dumbass—" She blocked out their words, turning down a series of winding alleyways until she found a dark, silent, dead end. She climbed off her horse, sat on the cold ground, and heaved a sob. Had she just disfigured a man? Those burns wouldn't heal without magical aid—magical aid the man might have no means to afford. Valindra didn't regret the action. The man had tried to kill, or at least wound her. She regretted the… reaction afterward. The man's horrified eye—his melted skin. She swallowed.

She'd have to get used to it. Fifteen minutes passed while she let her heart rate lower. No guards came running. No alarm bells chimed. Where the men went was a mystery, but at least they didn't give chase. She climbed back atop her horse and continued. Valindra paused in an alleyway overlooking the gate The Peasant Gate was the least fortified entrance to the city. The only things to the east were farmland and dust. The only people who traveled through it were farmers with their anemic crops.

Two stone watchtowers rose on either side of the wooden gate. A squadron of guards were posted both in the tower and below, where they drank beer and played cards. A rickety table sat against the far tower, half a dozen men and women shouting and laughing over lit cigars. Her father would have lost his mind. He would have complained about them stealing pennies from the city's coffers—ignoring their responsibilities and making a mockery of Highview's defenses. But who could blame them?

These men had spent nights away from their families for years, protecting nothing, helping no one. The last alarm that had been raised from this gate was well into Valindra's childhood, and even then it was only for a single drunk man with a crossbow pretending to be a bandit. The steady clop of hooves and screaming hinges came from outside the walls. Not a single guard stirred. An old wagon rattled through the gate, a single old man atop it.

He wore a straw hat that he tipped to them, yet the guards paid him no mind. He whistled the entire way in, his donkey sending lazy clops through the streets. It really was as easy as that. Just go through. So what was she so afraid of? Even if she left now, she could still return. No one would question the daughter of the baron leaving the city in a temper-tantrum, only to return when she cooled off. She would be punished, no doubt, but otherwise life would move on.

But she had no intention of returning any time soon. She let her stomach settle and urged her horse forward. Not a single guard lifted their head as she approached, despite her heart beating loud enough to rumble the earth beneath her. Not until she passed the threshold of the gate did anyone acknowledge her.

"Hey! You there!" Valindra froze, heart thumping louder.

"Yes?" A woman approached her, a nine-pointed star on her chest. The captain of this shift.

"What are you doing? It isn't even five in the morning, and you carry no supplies and look like no farmer I've ever seen. State your purpose." Valindra's hands grew clammy. She should urge the horse forward and be gone. They couldn't stop her once she left, and if they did send anyone after her, she would have a head start.

"Is it a crime to leave the city of Highview?"

"No," the captain said, "but it is our job to watch out for strange people entering and exiting the city. A young woman like you heading out before the break of dawn without reasonable cause checks that box." The farmer still whistled through the city streets, unbothered. Valindra sighed.

"I'm an adventurer. I'm going out with the rest of my party that left yesterday."

"And they went through this gate?"

"Valindra!" a voice echoed through the streets. Kara.

"Wait!" It took all her might not to dig her heels in and flee. What was she doing here? The captain stuttered.

"Valindra Hyland?" Kara caught up to her atop a gray steed. The blade master was armed to the teeth. Armor. Swords. Packs of supplies. Was she here to stop her, then? Kara dug in her pocket and handed the captain a coin.

"You didn't see anything. We are on a mission from the Baron himself. Keep quiet, or it'll be your head." The captain saluted and spun on her heel, leaving the two women alone.

"Come on, we've got to go now if we want to beat the rush," Kara said, kicking her horse forward.

"What are you doing?"

"The better question is, what are we doing? I suppose you are going to lead us to that new dungeon, then?" Valindra nodded, catching up to the blade master.

"Perfect! Well, you should know that we are headed in the completely wrong direction. Would have been a lot quicker to turn around if you hadn't chosen the Peasant's Gate—""Why?" Kara raised a brow.

"Why are you here? This was supposed to be my journey. My way out. Did father send you?"

"No. He has no idea." Valindra's heart skipped a beat.

"You'll be deemed a deserter."

"We can cross that bridge when we get to it. I couldn't bare to see you go off alone. I serve your family, not just the Baron. Therefore, I go where you go."

"And if I told you to stay?" Kara laughed, galloping further ahead.

"I would ignore that particular request." They traveled in silence until the first fork in the road, where Kara led them around the city and towards their destination proper.

"Are you going to be quiet until we get there?"

"Or at least until I have something to say."

"The Dawnbreakers will be leaving in the next couple of days. If we're lucky, maybe we can beat them to Ash Ridge. Hell, maybe we can even find some friends on the road there."