The carriage cut through the central streets of the ancient, destroyed city. Groups of creatures moved through the narrow houses, red blurs with shapes difficult to distinguish from the height.
Ezkiel stared at the hole in the wall, imagining the fall. He could try to climb down, but he knew his ability to hold on with his injured right shoulder was low. However, the sense of desperation that bathed his spine and boiled his instincts almost pushed him to jump. It seemed his own body was trembling with fear at every sound of the horses' hooves on the ground and the wooden and metal wheels, varnished in a dark shade.
His heart pounded wildly, blood rushing to his head. The veins in his forehead pulsed while his eyes trembled in discomfort. He had never felt this way before. He had been in degrees of frenzy while fleeing the creatures, he had felt fear of the unknown, but never something as irrational as fear of a carriage.
Ezkiel was afraid, but it seemed to be something forced by his own body. His own brain was releasing hormones to make him feel that way. His mind tended to despair, but he didn't know why. It felt like a major panic attack.
As if there were no other choice, Ezkiel approached the edge of the destroyed cell. He analyzed the climbing route again but realized he had no chance with his bare hands; there were a total of 7 floors to the ground. However, an idea came to his desperate mind. Looking down more closely, he saw the windows with metal bars that all the cells had. He lightly touched the chains attached to his arms. The thought of the pain came to his mind, but it was a path that could be followed.
The sound of the carriage was approaching, and panic overwhelmed all doubts. His trembling body knelt at the edge, descending slowly with his bare hands between the stone bricks, broken over time, until he reached the first window. He quickly unwrapped the chains from his arm, while forcing his sticky feet, covered in the creatures' excrement, not to slip and send him to a fatal fall.
The chains swung in the air as he threw his wrists into the cells, letting them slide into the room. Then, he pulled them slowly, saving the rest of his strength to tie them to the window bars.
Once done, breathing deeply with his heart about to explode, he gave a light tug to make sure they would hold his weight. Luckily, the chains were very durable, and his body was extremely light.
With confirmation made, he slowly released his body. The chains went taut, like fixed bridges, holding his body, which was still supported against the wall by his fingertips.
A breath of relief resonated through his body, which would rest his arms until the next descent.
The pain in my wrists is strong, but not compared to the pain in my fingers... At least this way I won't fall. Shit! What am I doing? When did I get used to doing this kind of thing?
Hearing the sound of the horses again, he realized he had been resting for too long. He pulled his body back up in a light climb, undid the knot in the chains, and began to descend cautiously again. The pain in his wrists slowed his speed, but he would soon be at the next window and would need to repeat the same process 6 more times.
...
The wrists of his arms were swollen and purple. The blood from his right shoulder was leaking more slowly from his body, and his mind was beginning to become drowsy. After this whole process, the blood loss was finally taking effect. However, his feet were closer to the ground, almost reaching the streets; there were only 20 meters of descent left.
The sound of the horses became more audible, and even though he couldn't see them after a few moments of descent, the carriage entered his field of vision. Close enough to distinguish clearer details.
In front of the main gate of the prison where he was, two black horses with manes that reflected the light like oil slicks on asphalt trotted slowly, about to stop their long journey through the abandoned city. The carriage was made of dark wood, with light carved details, geometric figures in an ancient tapestry. You could also see metallic details, which resembled the symbols he had seen on the prisoner's gate.
Sigils...
They were much less ornate and smaller in size. They didn't cause the same discomfort to look at, but a strange feeling filled the mind of anyone who fixed their gaze on them for too long.
In the central part of the carriage, where the small exit door was, surrounded by blackish-blue curtains, was a symbol of a shield with a woman's face in profile, similar to a statue. An inhuman beauty. The only striking detail on her face was her left eye, which had a white gem. The only light detail on the entire carriage.
As soon as Ezkiel noticed there was a sigil inside the eye, the door opened.
A man stepped out of the carriage. He wore a black bowler hat with a darker ribbon tied around the brim. His attire resembled an elegant overcoat from the late Victorian era. The style seemed impeccable, from the dark boots that stood out for their cleanliness to the white scarf that peeked out from his overcoat. The man turned, removed his hat for a moment, and slicked his black hair back. He looked from side to side, as if looking for nothing, just indignant at the view. A scowl appeared on his face after the brief inspection. With a sigh of disapproval, he pulled out a black pipe with small spirals. The head was conical, wider than the base, and the stem was straight but short. He pulled some tobacco from his pocket and placed it in the pipe. An old-fashioned lighter, in the style of movies, spun between his fingers as he lit it.
— Are you sure we're in the right place, Madly? The last time there was a mistake like this, we made a whole trip and I even lost one of my favorite shoes to a soulless abomination.
The smoke came out of his mouth, making his voice a little deeper.
— Calvirs, that was 3 years ago. And it was a mistake by the local assembly. — A female voice came from inside the carriage. — And I confirmed several times with the cathedral. This is the place. A sigil from the time of the New Order has been broken.
A beautiful woman stepped out of the carriage. Her outfit was similar to the man named Calvirs, but her hat was a beautiful short top hat, with a grayish scarf wrapped around the central part. Her hands wore matte black gloves, which highlighted the tone of her skin, as white as candle wax. Her hair was a very light brown, slightly curly, but difficult to distinguish, tied in a low bun below the hat.
— This is going to be a big problem then, Madly. Sending the two of us to enter an ancient ruin from the time of the New Order. What do they think we'll accomplish here? Kill whatever has been trapped since that time. I have my clear potential, my rank is nearing the second, but I have my limits.
The smoke entered his mouth while another part came out of his nose in a light sigh.
— Our mission is only to analyze the site. We don't need to engage in combat. Just find out who released it and how. It was probably some pagan cultist of the old Gods who still believes they are alive.
Madly, with a serious expression, turned her eyes to the site.
The reddish-brown tone vibrated in the movement of her irises. Ezkiel was almost paralyzed by the woman's beauty. The shape of her face was completely symmetrical, her reddish lips with a small beauty mark on the lower right side.
For an instant, he almost forgot he was still a few meters from the ground. Trying to ignore the conversation, he began to descend frantically again.
— We have no time to lose. Let's enter these gates right away. The sooner we enter, the faster we can return.
Calvirs was impatient. He put his left hand in his pocket and took out a coin. He focused his vision on it, revealing a simple sigil on the silver base. He lightly ran his thumb over the symbol. A glow emerged from the runes, spreading throughout the coin. With his right hand focused on holding the pipe, he threw the coin towards the main gate of the abandoned prison.
With the light tinkling of metal against metal, a large explosion ignited, throwing pieces of wood and metal in all directions. The tremor sent a reverberation through all the walls, and the sounds of internal crumbling could be heard from a distance. Looser pieces of brick began to fall from the great walls, and Ezkiel couldn't hold on, falling onto the muddy streets.
Wind swept through the entire city like a huge howl. The rush of air seemed heavy and hot, causing a slight discomfort to everyone near the explosion. Including the fallen prisoner.
The chains on his body made a slight clatter after the explosion. His back ached from the fall, but it could have been worse; at least now he was out of the prison.
The smoke from the explosion cleared, and the two individuals were staring at each other. Madly had a look of anger and disgust, while Calvirs seemed slightly embarrassed.
— Okay... That wasn't such a smart move. I thought the gate would withstand just one coin, you know? It was just one coin! I didn't know a ruin from the New Order era would be so fragile.
He said while dusting off his overcoat.
— It was just a metal door, Calvirs... From at least 500 years ago... We could have just opened it with our hands...
The woman's face showed disdain as the soot from the burned wood landed on her white skin. She entered the prison without changing her expression, resigning herself to her partner.
The man snorted slowly. He followed his partner while tapping his pipe against one of the walls, scattering the burned tobacco onto the ground.