——— Chapter Art (Click to view) ———
Cairo's steps were silent. So much so that even Naren lost track of him quickly after Yuna gave him the location of the sword. That's how it's always been, that's how he's always been taught: Don't make noise, don't take fights you can't win, and don't ever risk your life. Keep it swift and as advantageous as possible.
Though, by now he's completely side lined those ideals, messages, rules. Not like it has anything to do with him anymore, he's long since given up the right to those laws. Yet, somethings just become second nature at one point.
Quickly behind him, the curly haired girl followed, barely able to keep up. She'd stop periodically, crouching behind anything that could be used as cover to catch her breath. These routine stops were really starting to get to Cairo.
"Yo, keep up."
His tone was devoid of any lee way, as silent as it was, it was also thundering to Chrys.
The third level sat roughly two hundred meters below the surface, carved deep into both walls of the ravine.
The chasm between, where they had come up from was wide — maybe eighty meters across. There seemed to be rope bridges normally connecting both sides, at least signs of them, but with Pnoe, the warriors must've reeled them back in. Now only open air and a thin veil of fog existed in between.
The left side seemed to be where Naren and the weed-head were going, but Cairo didn't pay much attention to them. His focus was on the right side, where they were right now. Along the carved out walk way, many large archways were built into the ice walls, each leading to different facilities.
Right now, the two of them were crouching behind a couple supply crates not yet unloaded, peering through to the entrance of the armory: The entrance was a single heavy door set into the ice wall — thick wood reinforced with strips of white and iron, fitted tight into the carved frame. A metal latch held it shut, locked with a crude iron mechanism.
A guard was posted outside, slumped against the wall now. Her spear leaned beside him, head tilted forward, chin tucked into his chest. Her mask resembled that of a bear, with no signs of life.
A single lantern hung on a hook beside the door, its light dim and flickering. The corridor around it was narrow, maybe three meters wide, with a few empty crates stacked against the opposite wall.
Cairo stared at the guard, investigating the guard in his head: Weight on left foot, off-balance. Spear within reach, but not immediately in hand. Slow, deep chest movements — asleep. Layered leather across her chest and shoulders, reinforced with bone plates at the collarbone and sternum. Lighter padding on the legs for easier movements. Gaps at the neck, armpits, inner thighs.
Cairo's finger brushed the hilt of where his kunai should've been but there was nothing.
'They snatched it too.'
Now it was going to be that much more annoying. He had to deal with her without making a noise. With his kunai, she would die before even opening her eyes. With his hands it was a bit harder.
He turned to Chrys.
"Whatchu do?"
She stared at him puzzled. Cairo's face revealing a tinge of agitation.
"Fable. What is it?"
"I-I can make a small radius around me si-silent."
Cairo blinked a couple times. No wonder he couldn't hear her footsteps. Here he thought she might've been more than she let on, but at the end of the day it was just her fable. Though, he would've loved for this information sooner. he mumbled: "Now you tell?"
"How big?"
"Three-three feet."
That was nothing. Very close to nothing. But it could work. Cairo could easily burn her, but who knows how great her pain tolerance is. The guard could very well scream before passing out from pain.
"Ima need ya to go right up against that guard. Stick to her so nobody can hear her."
Chrys nodded her head. Seemingly understanding the guard's fate. As scared she was though, even Chrys wasn't a stranger to murder. She was a soldier after all, it was bound to happen. But nothing could have prepared her for what she was going to see.
Chrys walked up to the sleeping guard, completely undetected. Cairo following close behind her. Just as expected, no matter how much sound Chrys made within her bubble, not a sound reached Cairo.
As soon as she made it to the guard, and made sure that they were both in the dome of her fable, she turned to give Cairo the single.
Even before Chrys could do anything, a hand grabbed onto the guard. A searing, glowing hand, emanating heat and smoke.
The guard's limbs became animated, instinctively grabbing the spear to dig it into Cairo's abdomen, though he accounted for that. Grabbing hold and burning it before she had any chance.
Chrys watched in horror as Cairo's hands burned straight through the wooden mask and clamped onto the guards face, streams of tears streaming out from the masked. Her muffled cries curdled, as if blood was seeping out of her vocal chords.
She had peered through the cells slightly to see Cairo on fire previously, but even that couldn't prepare her.
When the guard finally went limp, Cairo held on for a second longer, letting go as her body fell to the ground. The mask was now half burned off, revealing the lower half of her mouth, completely mangles and burned black.
Indifferently, Cairo walked over the door and melted the lock, pushing the doors open. They had to be quick. They got her by surprise this time, but she wasn't dead yet. As much as he would've liked to kill her and secure their safety, he couldn't risk the smoke or glow attracting anyone else that may be in the area. No matter how low the chances of that may have been.
Chrys walked in behind Cairo, keeping her distance. She threw up in her mouth a little, but couldn't show it. She couldn't show an ounce of being a burden to whoever this monster was.
The armory was cold. Colder than the corridor outside.
The chamber stretched back maybe twenty meters, carved deep into the ice. Weapons hung on pegs along the walls — swords, spears, axes, daggers. Some wrapped in cloth, others left exposed with frost gathering on the metal.
Wooden crates sat stacked along the back wall, marked with crude symbols. Personal belongings. Gear.
Locked chests sat beneath the shelves, iron latches holding them shut.
A single lantern hung near the entrance, its light dim. Shadows stretched long across the room.
Cairo moved along the wall, scanning the racks. His eyes stopped on a cloth-wrapped bundle hanging near the center. He pulled it down, unwrapping it: A katana. But not his. He put it back in agitation.
Chrys crouched near the crates, rifling through one marked with a jagged line. She pulled out a leather pouch checked inside, tucking it into her coat pocket. She muttered: "Found it" while doing so.
Sifting through the rest of the crate: A back pouch filled with different herbs, knives, alcohol, cloth, and a lot of other things that Chrys could see no use in. A couple kunais. A broken katana wrapped in a cloth scabbard.
A hand shot past Chrys' shoulder grabbing onto the scabbard. He quickly jammed it into his obi. Chrys scampered aside, giving him space. Cairo continued to grab the kunais also giving them a place next to his katana.
He breathed a sigh of relief, finally feeling at ease now that he had his weapon back. He got up making his way for the door.
"Pouch is prolly the weed-head's. Bring it if you wanna."
Just then a loud shout echoed it's way through the cavern coming all the way to the armory. A voice sounding eerily similar to Naren.
"I'm telling you this scarf isn't ugly!"
Cairo couldn't help but let a smile creep onto his face now that he was weight off his shoulder was gone.
"Hell're you doin' Naren?!"