Girls in Trouble
The Janissaries spread out like a net about the building. Those on guard were alert, but whereas Janissaries were good guards, they were far superior in matters of stealth. Quietly dispatching those on watch outside, they moved in to the structure.
Naga had found this place by following his prey through the war torn city, though as he had informed his father he had not yet seen any use of supernatural powers by them. Caeron was sure that they were more than they seemed for he knew that no one else could get as close to him as they did without him noticing. And as the bodies fell and he entered the building, his suspicions grew. Where was their trap? he wondered to himself.
Naga was the first to find where the girl was being held and Remiel relayed the information back. Abaddon protected the group from unwanted attention as the rescue commenced and Am-Imhotep kept near the man he hoped would one day be his father-in-law. The group moved as one, a well trained machine, dealing with all the defenders of this place quickly and efficiently.
Reaching the room, Caeron heard the sounds of hands slapping Jayran’s face.
“Do you think we trained you so your could join another?” a voice shouted, “It is we who are Allah’s chosen, not those pretenders working for that fake Caeron Mustai! Caeron Mustai is dead!”
“He is not.” Caeron heard the girl retort, her voice a fervent whisper, “He is alive and he will kill you all for this.”
The man laughed, “Caeron Mustai could not even save himself, how do you think he could save you?”
Caeron had heard enough. Bursting through the door he bellowed, “If I am dead, then it is no mere man you face, but a wraith of vengeance.” He stepped in quickly, sword swinging as his surprised foe.
The guards in the room put up a fight as best they could, but even Am-Imhotep, newest of the Janissaries, was a match for a single one of them.
When the fight was done, Caeron went to the bound girl, slicing her free. She bowed her head, “I apologize for my weakness. I should not have allowed myself to be captured.”
Caeron shook his head, pulling her to her feet, “There is no shame in setback, merely defeat. And as you can well see, the only shame to be had is theirs.” he gestured to those at his feet.
Jayran bowed again and smiled as Caeron added, “Now, let us return and complete your training. There still is much for you to learn.” as sternly as he could.
---------------
After the Janissaries had departed two figures appeared on the roof, though in truth they had been there the entire time. The shorter of the two gazed down at the bodies on the ground carefully hidden after being slain and breathed soft words of magic into the air. The bodies shimmered and then shrunk, turning into little more than clay figurines. Within the building, a similar change took place, those that Caeron did battle with returning to their forms of small clay replicas of great warriors.
“You see.” he said, turning towards the taller man, “No harm was done to others. It is not my way to endanger the innocent, only the guilty.”
The taller man nodded, his outer face seeming sure but within, there were still questions about what he was doing.
As if sensing the other’s inner turmoil, the shorter man spoke once more, “Rest assured, in the end it will only be Caeron Mustai who pays for his crimes. Crimes he has committed against his fellow man, crimes he has committed against his fellow mage, and most importantly, the crimes he has committed against your mother. And is that not what we both seek, Mohammed? Justice?”
The taller man nodded, his doubts assuaged for now, “You are right Khem Adam. Lead and I shall follow. Wherever the path may lead.”
Naga had found this place by following his prey through the war torn city, though as he had informed his father he had not yet seen any use of supernatural powers by them. Caeron was sure that they were more than they seemed for he knew that no one else could get as close to him as they did without him noticing. And as the bodies fell and he entered the building, his suspicions grew. Where was their trap? he wondered to himself.
Naga was the first to find where the girl was being held and Remiel relayed the information back. Abaddon protected the group from unwanted attention as the rescue commenced and Am-Imhotep kept near the man he hoped would one day be his father-in-law. The group moved as one, a well trained machine, dealing with all the defenders of this place quickly and efficiently.
Reaching the room, Caeron heard the sounds of hands slapping Jayran’s face.
“Do you think we trained you so your could join another?” a voice shouted, “It is we who are Allah’s chosen, not those pretenders working for that fake Caeron Mustai! Caeron Mustai is dead!”
“He is not.” Caeron heard the girl retort, her voice a fervent whisper, “He is alive and he will kill you all for this.”
The man laughed, “Caeron Mustai could not even save himself, how do you think he could save you?”
Caeron had heard enough. Bursting through the door he bellowed, “If I am dead, then it is no mere man you face, but a wraith of vengeance.” He stepped in quickly, sword swinging as his surprised foe.
The guards in the room put up a fight as best they could, but even Am-Imhotep, newest of the Janissaries, was a match for a single one of them.
When the fight was done, Caeron went to the bound girl, slicing her free. She bowed her head, “I apologize for my weakness. I should not have allowed myself to be captured.”
Caeron shook his head, pulling her to her feet, “There is no shame in setback, merely defeat. And as you can well see, the only shame to be had is theirs.” he gestured to those at his feet.
Jayran bowed again and smiled as Caeron added, “Now, let us return and complete your training. There still is much for you to learn.” as sternly as he could.
---------------
After the Janissaries had departed two figures appeared on the roof, though in truth they had been there the entire time. The shorter of the two gazed down at the bodies on the ground carefully hidden after being slain and breathed soft words of magic into the air. The bodies shimmered and then shrunk, turning into little more than clay figurines. Within the building, a similar change took place, those that Caeron did battle with returning to their forms of small clay replicas of great warriors.
“You see.” he said, turning towards the taller man, “No harm was done to others. It is not my way to endanger the innocent, only the guilty.”
The taller man nodded, his outer face seeming sure but within, there were still questions about what he was doing.
As if sensing the other’s inner turmoil, the shorter man spoke once more, “Rest assured, in the end it will only be Caeron Mustai who pays for his crimes. Crimes he has committed against his fellow man, crimes he has committed against his fellow mage, and most importantly, the crimes he has committed against your mother. And is that not what we both seek, Mohammed? Justice?”
The taller man nodded, his doubts assuaged for now, “You are right Khem Adam. Lead and I shall follow. Wherever the path may lead.”