The sun set as Beatrice walked towards the last known location of the agent. Though she had been taught to control her heart rate, it still raced. In the next few hours, everything would make sense. She would know the truth about her homeland. Things were about to change, be it for the better or- Her train of thought was interrupted by the repetitive sound of a coin being flipped. She entered the alleyway from which the noise echoed, and as she expected, Alex Strider was there, leaning against a wall and playing with a coin.
"Strider," the squire acknowledged.
"Sunny," the mercenary responded.
Beatrice hated that stupid nickname, but she didn't bother asking Alex to stop, as she already knew the answer. Instead, she queried about something else:
"That coin. Why do you carry it with you?"
Alex caught the coin in between her pointer and middle finger, staring into the symbol engraved on it; A crow-like bird, perched upon a tower.
"'S from the Republic," she responded. "Some forty years back, us rooks kicked the Empire outta here. Made our own government."
Alex paused briefly, subtly smiling—not her usual arrogant, self-assured smirk—but a smile of bittersweet nostalgia for an era she never lived.
"It collapsed after a couple a' years, but we had our own currency for a lil' while. Republican coins are pretty rare these days."
She put the coin in her pocket.
"Ain't the time to chat, tho'. We got a job to do," she stated, pulling up her gaiter.
Beatrice nodded, and pulled hers up as well.
They stalked the location from a distance. It was a derelict, low-rise residential building. The ground-floor windows were boarded up, and no light came from within.
"How d'ya wanna do this?" the mercenary asked. "Loud or quiet?"
"Quietly," the squire responded. "I trust you are trained in stealth?"
"Been stealin' since I was a kid," Alex said, her eyes betraying the smugness of the smile that her gaiter covered. "Yeah, I know stealth."
"The doors all have sound traps," Beatrice recalled. "We'll have to go in through the second-floor windows. The agent is likely on the top floor, if he's here at all."
Alex nodded in confirmation. They stayed close to the walls as they approached the building. Once there, the mercenary jumped, kicked off the building to the side, and barely managed to hold on to the window frame. After climbing in, she stuck her hand out and pulled the squire in.
The building's interior consisted of tag-covered walls, and several doors leading to different apartments. Only the faint light of the setting sun illuminated the corridors, and the sound of footsteps echoed from the other end of the hallway.
They looked at each other. Beatrice gestured several signs. From what Alex interpreted, they were going to ambush whoever it was that approached. They quietly walked towards the bend in the hallway from which the sounds came, and leaned against the inner wall.
The footsteps got closer, closer... Movement. Alex took a knife from her jacket, and without thinking, grappled the person, covering their mouth with her hand and pressing the knife against their throat. She quickly analyzed them. A man, dressed in black uniform and with a soaring phoenix on his chest. Alex pressed the tip of the knife against his throat, preparing for the kill, when she was pushed away by Beatrice. The mercenary lost her grip on the man. For the brief moment his mouth was uncovered, he yelled out half a word:
"Intru-!"
Beatrice quickly launched her lightning needles and ran a shock spell through them. A flash of blue light, and the man was non-lethally subdued.
Alex gestured in silent disbelief. Beatrice grabbed her by the wrist and took her to one of the apartments, knowing that more soldiers likely approached. The room was empty, the furniture having been taken by scavengers. They paid little attention to the scenery, instead turning their focus to one another.
"What the fuck was that!?" Alex whispered. "I had him! Why'd you-"
"You were about to murder him!" Beatrice responded, whispering as well.
"So what!? Ain't we here to kill that agent!?" Alex questioned.
"No! I will not be responsible for any more deaths. And since I brought you here, I'm responsible for anything you do, too. That means that today, you don't kill." Beatrice narrowed her eyes. "Am I understood?"
Alex nodded reluctantly.
They listened. Footsteps, several of them. Voices—the commanding officer ordered his men to search every room, individually. Beatrice used hand signs to tell Alex to hide in the room to their left, which seemed to be the only other room in the apartment. She complied, and Beatrice hid behind the door.
Footsteps approached. The door opened slowly, granting her cover. The first step of tactically clearing a room was to check behind the door—Beatrice knew that well. As the soldier turned, holding his broadsword in position, the squire darted forward, pushing the blade to the side with one hand and tapping the soldier with the other. She ran a negative lighting spell through her left and a positive one through her right. The circuit was completed, and Beatrice caught the soldier before he hit the ground. Another one down.
Alex left the other room, and quickly looked out into the corridor. All clear. She nodded to Beatrice, and they quietly left the room, turned the corner, and went up the stairs.
They didn't hear any signs of movement in this floor. Beatrice, pressed against the inner wall, checked the next hallway. Clear. They proceeded across the spiraling halls and into the fourth and top floor. This one had been modified by the Imperials; every door was removed, except one, and sleeping bags and weapons were scattered about. A ladder rested against a wall, leading to a hatch in the ceiling.
"There," Beatrice whispered, pointing at the door. "That's where the agent is. As I recall it, the door is reinforced and barricaded."
Alex thought for a second, then whispered:
"Saw some vents on the roof. Could go in through one of 'em."
They climbed the ladder and opened the hatch, which led to a small covered section. That section had a door that led to the open roof. Beatrice opened the door, and was met with the sight of several turbine ventilators, and a statue perched upon the roof's edge. It had wings like a bat and horns like a demon. Alex recognized that model of gargoyle; it was a security golem, highly dangerous and constantly vigilant. Beatrice carefully stepped into the open, attempting not to make a sound, when a loud, ear-grating screech was heard. The gargoyle had noticed them. It stood up with heavy arcano-mechanical movements, and turned towards the pair.
"Fireball that fuckin' thing!" Alex shouted.
Beatrice complied; she took her only fireball from her satchel, lit it with a heat spell, and threw it at the gargoyle. The pair covered their ears and shut their eyes as the golem was reduced to smoldering rubble.
"On your guard! Every soldier in this building is approaching," Beatrice said, drawing her sabre and channeling into it.
Alex grabbed her club and readied her posture.
A wave of footsteps approached as four men in dark Imperial uniforms came from the door. They were all armed with longswords, except for one, who held a halberd.
"Four versus two, ay? This is gonna be fun!" Alex said.
The soldiers looked at each other, then at their opponents. The halberd-wielding one, who the pair identified as the commander, gruffly ordered:
"Kill the human and take the traitor."
They all held their postures as the last lights of the day faded. The glyphs on their blades glowed faintly. One of the men stepped forward, and it started.
The commander thrust at Alex. She dodged to the side, and he spun his weapon, aiming to cut her with the blade. The mercenary blocked the haft with her club, running forward as the soldier retracted his weapon. He wasn't quick enough—Alex swung upwards and hit him underneath the chin. Blood dripped out of his mouth as he reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a knife. Alex prepared to swing again when the blade of another soldier almost pierced her. She cast a dashing spell to the side, creating distance between her and the soldiers.
Beatrice, meanwhile, lowered her sword into a Fool's Guard. Two soldiers swung at her. She blocked one of them with blinding speed and cast a kinetic shockwave spell at the other, leaving him open for a riposte. He jumped backward, barely dodging the squire's thrust. She marched forward and extended her hand towards the other soldier. She focused mana into a light spell, and the resulting flash blinded him. She then clashed blades with the other soldier, and as their weapons met, Beatrice channeled more mana than usual into her blade. The soldier did the same. The enchantments glowed fiercely and produced gusts of wind as they searched for flesh to split and found only air. They continued this race of mana, channeling more and more. The squire felt her body temperature rise as her soul used all the mana it could. The soldier's channeling started to lose strength, and Beatrice's blade split his in half. He hesitated, and Beatrice swept his leg, then kicked his head against the ground, knocking him out.
She turned towards the blinded soldier, whose vision now recovered. He swung, and Beatrice attempted to parry. He switched lines, but the squire responded with her own threat, which forced the soldier to parry. He attempted a riposte, but she retreated, sheathed her sword, and drew several silver needles from her pockets. The soldier stretched his hand out, preparing to cast a shockwave spell. As Beatrice threw the needles, she focused her mana and released it without channeling. This amount of rawcasting was just enough to overload one's arcane system, and so the soldier's spell failed. Several needles hit him, though none pierced his core. She rushed forwards, expecting little resistance. She underestimated his resilience—he swung upwards, ignoring the needles, and cut her across the chin. Beatrice instinctively tapped him with two fingers, casting a lighting spell. Blood dripped from her as the soldier fell to the ground.
Two men rushed towards Alex. She cast a dashing spell in an upward diagonal, flinging herself in the air behind them. She threw a knife at the commander, who was hit in the arm. As she landed, she hit the soldier on the shoulder with her club, disabling his sword arm. She followed up with a swing to the knee and one to the chest—strong enough to incapacitate, but too weak to kill. Probably. She then turned to the commander and beckoned him while hopping in place. He thrust, and she dodged to the side, parrying his attempt to hit her with the beak side of his halberd. She didn't notice the way he hooked her weapon until it was too late, and her club was ripped from her hands. Without a way to parry, she was cut on the upper arm.
"I fuckin' hate halberds..." she muttered.
She took her still-sheathed sword from her belt and cast a dashing spell towards the commander. He dropped his halberd and drew a dagger. She pirouetted as she swung, making her next line of attack obvious. The commander attempted to block her swing by grappling her sword arm, only to find it empty. She struck him in the side with her sheathed blade, which was now on her left. He fell to the ground, and before he could roll away, she thrust at his head, incapacitating him.
Alex watched as Beatrice took down the final soldier. They briefly exchanged looks, and slowly walked towards the covered section of the rooftop, great weight in each step. They sat against the outer wall, breathing heavily. It was completely dark now, and they pulled down their gaiters. There were few stars visible, yet the lights of the city formed their own constellations.
Beatrice hesitated, then asked:
"Are you injured?"
With the fading of the adrenaline, the cut Alex had taken started to hurt quite a bit.
"Kinda," the mercenary responded. "It's nothin', tho. I can still fight."
Beatrice shook her head.
"I will not be responsible for any more deaths, and that includes yours," she said, reaching into a pocket and taking out a roll of bandages. "Now take off your jacket and let me get these on."
Alex paused for a moment, and then complied. Her arms, now visible, were covered in a decade's worth of battle scars. Beatrice wondered how young Alex must've been when she started fighting. She put that aside and began applying the bandages.
"...When you find that agent, what are ya gonna do, exactly?" the mercenary asked.
"Capture him and report him to the justiciars," the squire responded, not looking up from the procedure.
"That's if he's corrupt, yeah? ...What if he's doin' exactly as he's told? What if the Empire's just... Like this?"
Beatrice didn't respond. She didn't know how to.
She finished the bandages. They got up and walked towards the ventilator that should be above the agent's resting spot. Alex grabbed her club and swung, taking the ventilator off its frame. Now, only a hole leading to the room remained. They looked at each other for a brief moment. Beatrice jumped in. Alex followed. They were met with the sight of a war room, furnished with only a desk covered in maps and documents, and with a banner of the Imperial Phoenix hung on the wall. The most notable feature of the room was a dark-haired man, with pale skin and pointed ears, staring out an open window. He wore a cloak, which waved lightly in the wind.
"I am impressed," the agent said, his voice collected and his speech sophisticated. "Such resilience and strength should be rewarded."
He turned around, revealing a scar-covered face of sharp features and green eyes.
"If you have dying wishes, I would be glad to fulfill them."