20/8/1100
I had never been to the Holy City before. While many of the faithful make the pilgrimage to Laterano, and indeed, my own parents had before I was born, I myself never found the time. I had actually been planning to make the pilgrimage when I graduated from medical school with several friends of mine who were also members of the Church, one lupo and a liberi who were also studying to be doctors. Then I became an Infected, and the question became entirely moot. The Infected are largely banned from the city and from the holy places, so why even bother? I didn’t abandon my faith, but I did accept that most priests wouldn’t even hear my confession.
Now, I’m traveling with an Exectutor of Notorial Hall. The Executor, actually. Goes by Fred. Well, alright, we call him Fred, but he is still an angel of the Holy City itself. Not to mention his cousin who is…a very confusing woman, to be sure.
I confess, my heart beat a little faster as we approached Theodosiel’s Walls. Their shining marble edifice has stood for two thousand years, and repelled more than one army of Laterano’s foes. For the Faithful, this is the holiest place on Terra. The city of Saints and Angels.
Now, however…I looked up, past even the enormous walls, and saw beyond that, to the blasphemous needle that connects the false heaven to the earth below. Amiya calls it a “space elevator”, and it is some construction of Priestess’s that has to do with her plan to spread originium beyond even Terra, to the stars beyond. It was enough of a plague and a curse here. Even if she didn’t have James captive, or want to destroy the world, her mad quest to spread the Curse of Stone to the stars and beyond would be reason enough to want to stop her.
Not to mention what she’s done to my friends. And Wisadel, I suppose. Gavial moves easily and confidently, though with more grace than she has before. She still moves less like a doctor and more like a warrior, and she’s carrying enough firepower to give that impression as well.
“What does it feel like?” I ask her as we approach the walls.
Her brow furrows. “Honestly, it’s easier to walk than I thought it would be. I mean, I always wondered how some people managed without a tail to help them keep their balance, but it’s actually not so bad! Weird part is that I can feel the others. I’ve never been much of the touchy feel-y sort, but this is…nice. Yes, even feeling you, Wis.”
“Go fuck yourself,” is our ever acerbic companion’s only response.
“And I got these!” Gavial laughs, and holds up the shotgun and assault rifle she has. “Health and Wellness got a makeover! You know the funniest thing? I always talked to my boys, especially when I was taking care of them, but now? Now, it’s like…they hear me. And talk back. Sort of. Weird, huh?”
“Ah, the soul of the patron speaks to the Sankta! Take joy in them, and they shall in turn give joy unto you, and lamentations to your foes,” Arturia chuckles, and puts a hand over her robe, where I am fairly certain she has her own patron firearm concealed.
“So like, that whole thing with Sankta and their guns isn’t just a bunch of mumbo jumbo?” Gavial asks, holding up the rifle, I think that’s Health, and examining it closely.
“Sankta combat arts are focused around the use of our patron firearms. It is possible to establish a connection with other weapons, but the first weapon a Sankta receives is optimally effective. That is why I was very careful in selecting my own patrons,” Federico states.
Arturia chuckled. “Even I take better care of Piccino than you do your own patrons, frater meus. You haven’t even properly named them.”
“They are designated Model W 1081 Lever Action Shotgun,” Federico said stiffly.
“Oh for fucks sake, are you serious!?” Wisadel exploded. She stalked over to Federico, and extended her hand. “Hand ‘em over.”
Federcio eyed her impassively. “According to Canto XLIX, an Executor is not to be without his or her weapons while-”
“Shut the fuck up and hold this,” Wisadel snapped, and shoved her rather enormous cannon into Fred’s arms. He blinked at her, which is the most surprise I’ve ever seen from him, and Wisadel took both his weapons.
“I am fully capable of operating this weapon,” Federico stated. “Should you attempt to do anything unauthorized-”
“Dust and stones, you can read my fucking mind, you’d know if I wanted to do anything nefarious,” Wisadel snarled, racking one gun’s action back and inspecting the innards.
“Contrary to popular belief, Empathy is not telepathy, but rather it is an emotional-”
“He just doesn’t shut up once you get him going, does he?” Wisadel grumbled. She held one gun up, and then grinned viciously. “Fred.”
She tossed the gun at Federico, who managed to catch it, still keeping Wisadel’s cannon cradled in his other arm. “Let me see the other one,” Arturia said, even as we drew near to the base of the wall.
Wisadel tossed her Fred’s patron, his eyes tracking the gun like a stoopfowl. Arturia caught the shotgun and held it up to her ear, as if listening to a seashell. She nodded solemnly, then handed the gun back to her cousin, taking Wisadel’s canon. “It is a girl.”
“Assigning an inanimate object a gender is an example of anthropomorphization, and is not something necessary for its proper function,” Federico stated.
“It felt like a girl to me,” Wisadel said, accepting her weapon back with a predatory grin. “What’s her name?”
“W,” Arturia said, and humming to herself, started walking towards the walls again.
Wisadel gaped after her, while Federico examined his gun. Wisadel whirled on him, her nostrils flaring. “Don’t you dare.”
“I shall accept the name W. It is, after all, a Model W,” Federico said with a nod.
Wisadel blinked at him, leaning back in confusion. “Oh, well, that’s alright then. As long as you-“
“Also, your previous name was W, and as you insisted I name my guns, it makes sense that it should share your name.” Federico looked up, and almost, but not quite, met Wisadel’s eyes, instead looking more or less at her left ear. “I shall think of you whenever I care for W, or fire it.”
“YOU DUMB MOTHER FUCKER!” Wisadel exploded, thrusting her face in Federico’s. “DON’T YOU DARE NAME SOME HOLY ASS ANGEL WEAPON AFTER ME!”
Federico shifted his eyes slightly, away from Wisadel’s furious gaze. “I do not understand. You insisted I name my weapon. I have accepted its name is W.”
“Her name,” Wisadel snapped.
Federico nodded, apparently unbothered by the violation of his personal space. “Her name. You seem distressed. Why does this bother you?”
“Because I’m a sarkaz! A devil girl! Are you ok with naming your fucking gun after a demon!?” Wisadel demanded, her face purpling with anger.
“You are deadly, and capable in combat. Also, I find you physically attractive, and I also find my guns to be atheistically pleasing. I find the name to be appropriate.” That took the wind completely out of Wisadel’s sails, and she went a very bright pink, right to the tips of her wings.
Then Federico turned and walked after his cousin. “Come. There is a hidden entrance for agents of Notorial Hall in this maintenance shed. I have the pass key.”
Wisadel was just sort of standing there, left eye twitching slightly. I smirked and walked up behind her.
“You like him, don’t you?” I said smugly.
Whirling, Wisadel began,“ Bitch, just because you have Empathy doesn’t mean-!” Then she faltered when I shook my head at her.
“I just look like a sankta.” I reached up with my tail and used it to tickle her nose to remind her, which made her jerk back as it was invisible thanks to Amiya’s illusion. “And I don’t need empathy to tell when someone is being a tsundere. Just try not to bully poor Fred too much.”
“My name is Federico Giallo,” Fred called.
“Shut the fuck up, Fred! No one asked your opinion!” Wisadel snapped, then stalked after him. She leaned in close to him and whispered, “Fred, what the fuck is a tsundere?”
“A tsundere is a stock character in Higashian-”
I leaned in close to Gavial as Federeico rattled off the dictionary definition. “Does she like him?”
“Hard to tell,” Gavial said, making a face. “The Roach there is a pent up bundle of anger, frustration, and repression. And even with Empathy I can’t get a read on Freddo. But they do make a cute couple.”
Wisadel turned to glare at me, and I just smiled sweetly at her and flipped her off. She made a highly immature face and flipped me off back, which was rather amusing. I hate to say it, but I’m starting to like the psychotic devil girl. She’s certainly a passionate one.
The maintenance shed was attached to some sort of water monitoring station, and had signs to that effect as well as warnings about the various laws we were breaking entering the facility unauthorized. Federico, however, did have a key card and code, which opened the door for us.
“Just a moment,” Amiya said, taking out a corked vial. “There’s something I need to do here.”
“Tampering with the city’s water supply is a serious crime,” Federico stated. “According to Canto Municipalis LXII, the punishment for knowingly poisoning or contaminating the potable water of the city is no less than 15 years in jail, stripping of the patron for Sankta, and 25 strokes of the heavy rod for liberi. For non-citizens, the punishment is death by hanging of the neck.”
“Then it is fortunate that I mean the people of Laterano only good,” Amiya said. “Help me open this valve.”
It took Gavial and Wisadel working together to get the valve open, and Amiya poured the contents of the vial into the water.”
“And what plague have you unleashed, O Lord of Fiends?” Arturia asked, gently sawing away at her cello to produce a sound like rippling waters.
“One that will fall upon the tyrant that seeks to enslave the Sankta, and through them, all of Terra,” Amiya said quietly, putting the empty vial in the pocket of her coat as Gavial resealed the valve with a grunt. “Right. Lead the way, Federico. We must enter the city in all stealth.”
“That action should be logged,” Federico said almost wistfully, glancing over at a terminal that seemed to be for just that purpose.
“Just for once, live a little, angel boy,” Wisadel said, patting Federico’s shoulder. “Break some rules. It’s fun! Ask your cousin.”
“I find no joy in the act of the breaking of laws, only in freeing the emotions that they repress,” Arturia said with a shake of her head.
“I like breaking stuff! And rules,” Gavial said cheerfully. “I say we let this one go, Freddo.”
“This is a further distortion of my name,” Federicio said, frowning slightly. “Is this an example of camaraderie, or an attempt to disrupt morale?”
“I ain’t sweet on you like Wisadel is, but comrades in arms should have nicknames for one another!” Gavial laughed.
“I am going to fucking murder you all in your sleep,” Wisadel grumbled.
I touched Federico on the arm when his head snapped to her. “Tsundere, remember? It’s her version of flirting with you.”
Wisadel made choking noises while Gavial and I both giggled. Even Amiya had to cover her mouth with a hand. Arturia didn’t bother, letting out a belly laugh and grinning at her cousin.
“I see,” Federico said, and you didn’t need Empathy to know that he absolutely did not.
The tunnel was concealed behind a false wall that Federico was able to open by performing a short ritual with W and Fred. I had to fight off a grin at the thought of that, though when the door opened, I kept my face composed.
“You will need to wear these,” Federico said, and passed Arturia, Amiya and I hoods and handcuffs. It had been decided that even with our disguises, we wouldn’t easily pass for regular Sankta. As an Executor, Federico would have deputised Gavial and Wisadel to help him, and they both obviously were fighters. Arturia was a known disruptive factor, and us being brought in for questioning would make sense. Same with us going through the tunnel: If something was wrong with our Empathy, then it would make sense that we couldn’t go through the normal entrance.
“Wait, hold up,” Wisadel said. She took a deep breath. “I need a code name. Wisadel is too obviously Sarkaz.”
“That is logical,” Federico agreed. He furrowed his brow. “You could simply be W.”
“Frater meus, that is not a proper sankta name,” Arturia chuckled. She studied Wisadel for a moment, then nodded. “Valeria. You are strong of spirit. It is a fitting name.”
Wisadel let out a breath, then grimaced and nodded. “Fine. I…I can be Valeria. But don’t forget that I’m Wisadel. And I will make a home for my people.”
“Vesta,” Federico says, and we all turn to him. “The Guardian Saint of the Home. I…I find it more suitable.”
A slow, purr-beast like grin spreads over Arturia’s face, while Wisadel blushes slightly. “Why, frater meus…are you fond of this woman?”
Wisadel snarls, fingers stretching into claws, but Federico nods. “We are comrades in arms. And she is effective. Besides, Vesta will be easier to remember, as it shares a similar etymological root.”
“Alright kids, enough flirting, we got work to do,” Gavial said firmly.
Wisadel just growled and shoved the hood over Arturia’s head before handcuffing her none too gently. Federico was firm but not painful as he cuffed and hooded me and Amiya. Then we were guided down a set of narrow stairs, and along what felt like an endless black corridor. When we came up, I heard voices, and stiffened in fear.
“Who goes there?” a strange man’s voice called.
“A light in the darkness,” Federico responded. “Bearing three burdens.”
“Wait, Giallo? Is that you?” the voice said again.
“That is not the countersign. Identify yourself properly,” Federico said, his voice cold as ice.
“I guess it is you. Fine, fine. ‘You may lay down your burdens, for you have returned to the Holy Place.’”
“Accepted,” Federico stated. “Executor Federico Giallo, reporting with three prisoners and two deputies.”
“I can see that. And, who, exactly, are these pretty ladies you’ve deputized, eh?” the strange voice said.
“Back off, kid. You’re not my type,” Gavial said, her tone a warning. “I’m just a merc. Call me Gavial.”
“You can call me Vesta, bozo. Ugh, do we have to be here, Fred? It smells like cop in here,” Wisadel complained.
“Wait, Fred? Who is Fred?” the man asked suspiciously.
“She is referring to me. Unfortunately, one of the prisoners insisted on calling me that, and Deputy Vesta has insisted on calling me that. I believe it to be a form of flirtation, but I am uncertain.”
The strange man made a choking sound, and I heard the grinding of teeth from Wisadel’s direction.
“Wait, just who are these prisoners?” the guard asked, and a moment later, my hood was removed and a tall Sankta man with a red bandana about his head frowned down at me. I had to blink, even in the dim light, but I didn’t recognize him.
The room we were in appeared to be not a water treatment facility, but rather, a small office space, apparently a police station. There were pictures of saints on the walls, along with small shrines where patron firearms were displayed, apparently of past officers. Definitely in Laterano.
“Huh. Dimmed Halo. Wait…this is a filthy Sarkaz!” the man snarled, and I was suddenly backhanded, tasting blood in my mouth. Wisadel was on my attacker in a flash, and Fred had his guns out.
“Legatus Argiolas. Mistreatment of prisoners is forbidden under Canto CXIV, De Custodia et Dignitate Captivorum.”
“Get off me, merc!” Argiolas spat. “I bet you’re one of the haloed! Not even a proper daughter of Laterano!”
“Hey Fred, is there one of those canto things about killing assholes?” Wisadel snarled. She’d pinned Argiolas to the ground and had her knee in his back, a look of pure fury in her eyes.
“That would be Canto XXXII.”
“Shame. Can I just rough him up a bit? You know, for violating the most holy and sacred law?” Wisadel hissed, leaning down towards Argiolas.
“Negative. This action will be reported to the Curia. Let up, Legatus Argiolas, Deputy Vesta.”
Wisadel complied, though Argiolas was slow in getting up, looking at me with murderous rage. He pointed a finger at me. “She was a Sarkaz before she was touched by the Holy Mother, wasn’t she!”
“No. She was a vulpo,” Federico stated. “Siracusan. Her name is Maria Gridare. For some reason, her wings and halo are cracked, and her Empathy is non-functional.” Federico hesitated, then said, “I believe she has a similar condition to myself. Namely, Autism Spectrum Disorder.”
I immediately started rocking back and forth and flicking my fingers, making a soft moaning sound. Argiolas recoiled from me slightly.
“Oh. I see. So, you, er…”
“I am taking her, my cousin, and the former Sarkaz to Notorial Hall for processing. Log this properly. Along with your own actions, and submit your report,” Federico told Argiolas.
Argiolas spun to Amiya, who had her own hood off, though she and Virtuosa were both gagged, unlike me. “But, she looks normal! That can’t be right, the Sarkaz are twisted and blighted, abandoned by the Law.”
“Shows what you fucking know, asshole. Can’t you feel her?!” Wisadel demanded, glaring at Argiolas. “She’s fucking terrified! Twists my fucking stomach. So what if she was a sarkaz!? She’s blessed by the Law, now, unlike you, prick!”
“And what were you before you were haloed?!” Argiolas demanded, rounding on Wisadel.
She spits in his face. “For your information, pendejo, nací en Iberia y me crié en el Monasterio de las Alas Brillantes. Nací con mi halo y recibí a mi patrón de manos del Padre. Tú no eres más que un pendejo racista.” Wisadel finished her tirade in Iberian with a wicked smile. Her Laterani has suddenly become slightly more lyrical, as if she were actually Iberian. She’s not a bad actress, actually, which surprises me. She’s always been so straight forward.
Argiolas had gone pale, and glanced over at Federico. “I…I can’t get a read, is she-”
“Her statement is fact,” Federico said, in that robot tone of his. “You should be able to discern her origin by her accent.”
“Fuck me. You…you have my apologies, sister,” Argiolas said, bowing his head.
“I’d fucking better,” Wisadel snarled, then kneed him in the groin, making him gasp and fall over. All the others in the room winced as well, even Wisadel. Even Fred twitched a hand to his crotch.
“And for your information, pendejo, my friend here might be a haloed, or whatever the fuck you’re calling it, but she’s a faithful friend. Even if she was a liberi,” Wisadel sniffed.
“Vete a follarte a una bestia de carga; te recordará a tu hermana,” Gavial spat. Her Iberian sounds flawless to me, but I’m no judge of it. Though even my poor grasp of the language leads me to believe she’s even more foul mouthed than usual.
“Well, fine. Your escort is here anyway,” Argiolas gasped, and there was the tromp of heavy armored boots outside the room we were in.
I didn’t stop my fake stemming, but my eyes did twitch towards the door. A moment later, it was thrust open, and the massive armored form of a Gun Knight stepped in.
“Ah, young Giallo, you’ve returned,” the knight said. His voice sounded like that of an older man, though his armor obscured his features, he was obviously tall, two meters with the armor on, and broad shouldered.
“Brother Patrizion,” Federico said, even as Gavial and Wisadel stiffened, hands on their weapons. “I have the situation in hand.”
“Mmm,” the knight said, looking down at the still writhing Argiolas. I realized this was Fiametta’s adopted grandfather, the legendary Patrizion Pazzo, the longest serving Gun Knight in history. Practically a living saint. And a very dangerous man. “And why, exactly, is the Legatus on the ground, Executor Giallo?”
“He struck one of my prisoners,” Federico stated. Then nodded to Wisadel. “Also, he accused one of my deputies of being Sarkaz. She is a Sankta from Iberia, named-”
“Fine, son, I’ll get all that later,” Pazzo said, then came over and knelt down by me. Gently, he put a hand on my shoulder, and I froze. “Little one, it’s alright. The violence is over. You can relax now. You’re safe. I’m here. You’re in the Holy City. It will be well.”
I looked at his forehead, and let a little drool leak from my lips. “W-want…want…go home. Scared. Loud. Bright. You…angel?”
“No. Just a tired old man. But I’ll keep you safe.” Pazzo stood, picking me up and cradling me in his arms. He probably thought I was just a little girl, and i was worried he’d feel my tail, but he was very gentle. “Now. Explain exactly what happened.”
“This bitch assaulted me!” Argiolas gasped, managing to stand up.
“After you accused me of being a sarkaz, pendejo,” Wisadel hissed at him.
“I didn’t say that! I said she was!” he said, pointing at me. “Besides, that one is a sarkaz!”
“No. They’re sankta. I can feel her Empathy, and see her halo,” Pazzo said, shaking his head slowly. “The Holy Mother has made us all sankta. All equal before the Law. She is bringing peace, Argiolas. The world will become one. There will be no more war. No more hate. The Sarkaz will be our brothers and sisters as much as someone born in the Holy City.”
“But-” Arigolas began.
“Arrest this idiot, Executor Giallo,” Pazzo said, his voice iron.
Wisadel gleefully slapped handcuffs on Arigolas, and gagged him for good measure.
“What of the others?” Federico asked. “I was following procedure, and taking them to Notorial Hall.”
“No need for that. Hello again, little Arturia,” Pazzo said, his gaze shifting. He reached out, and lowered her gag, holding me with just one hand.
“Hello, grandfather,” Arturia said, a mischievous grin on her face, though she was still handcuffed. “Do you wish for a concert? I would be happy to perform one.”
“She comes with me. The Holy Mother may have a use for her,” Pazzo said, shaking his head. Then he reached out and lowered Amiya’s gag. “And you, child?”
“I do not understand what has happened to me. But I can feel your emotions. You…are sad. And tired. But I do not feel pity, nor hatred,” Amiya stated.
“No. Do you understand what has happened to you?” Pazzo asked.
“I…I hear the Holy Mother. I am…I am to serve the Holy City, and…and become one of the chosen,” Amiya said, bowing her head.
Pazzo nodded. “Release her. She is no danger. Take her to the hospital for an examination. She will be given clothing, and a place to stay. There is room for all in the Holy City.”
“Even if she was a sarkaz?” Wisadel asked, her eyes smoldering.
“Let go of your anger, daughter,” Pazzo said, turning a stern gaze on Wisadel. She blushed and looked down. “No, no. You’re not angry at me. Just him, eh?”
Wisadel blushed, and continues to put on the fake accent. “He…he insulted my…friends.”
“Hmm. Iberian? No, don’t blush. I can tell. Got the accent. And the temper. You’re young. Being near the Holy Mother will smooth you over. She’s making us all better. Even my…even my Fia. She has become…more of herself. The Holy Mother will make us all better. Trust in the Law, and remember that all will become our brothers and sisters. Sanctified.”
“Hardy har har,” Wisadel snorted. “Sankta-fied.”
“Ha! At last, someone gets the pun!” Pazzo chuckles. He motions to Arturia, who steps up beside us, and sets me down so I can walk. “Right. I’m taking them to Notarial Hall. Take your friends to the hospital, then get some rest, Giallo. You did good, son.”
Pazzo turns to go, Arturia and I following, but Amiya hurries forward. “Sir! Mr. Knight!”
“Yes, child?” He says, and begins to turn. He swears and reaches for his gun, even as Wisadel kicks Arigolas’s legs out from under him. Amiya has formed a blade of Originium, and uses it to stab Pazzo in the side. Not a deep wound, just a prick, really, but it’s enough.
“You are a good man,” Amiya says as Pazzo sags, and Arturia and I quickly step away from him, even as Arigolas swears and struggles with Gavial’s boot on his back. “Surely you can see the evil that Priestess, the one you call the Holy Mother, brings to this city.”
She extends a hand to Pazzo, who has his hands on his knees, breathing hard. “Please. Join us, and help us liberate Laterano.”
“Liberate?” Pazzo breathes. He lowers his head. “You are with her, Executor Giallo?”
“The Holy Father has tasked me with freeing the law, and saving the Sankta,” Federcio states. “I have allied with these five. Even my sister. We shall restore the city.”
“Restore. Heh. Don’t you get it? This is a chance for peace,” Pazzo says, straightening up. A gattling gun snaps into place on his arm, and begins to spin.
“Ears, what the fuck, you stabbed him, shouldn’t that break the whole mind whammy thing?” Wisadel hisses.
“Mind control. You are short-sighted and foolish children,” Pazzo says, his tone growing heated. “The Holy Father made a mistake. This city is free. Free from war. From famine, from seperation. My Fia-” his voice breaks for a minute, even as his guns spin up and the others tense. “-my Fia is all she was meant to be. She’s a Knight now. Truly my granddaughter. You want to take all that away? To plunge the world back into war. No.”
“GET DOWN!” Federico bellows, and opens fire. The world turns to chaos and noise, and I can only scamper on hands and knees away from Pazzo as the others all fight.
Well, save for one. Arturia is scrambling along beside me.
“It seems his passions are already unleashed. My arts would do little,” she half shouts over the gunfire.
I can see Federico and Wisadel standing against the Gun Knight of legend, side by side. Wisadel is cackling with mad laughter, firing that oversized cannon of hers. Her wings had come ablaze with light, and even I could see that her patron glowed with a power that was absolutely alive. Federico was firing his shotguns and swinging them by the lever to work the action, his fire peppering off of Pazzo’s armor.
Pazzo, for his part, is having to dodge madly to avoid Wisadel’s cannon, which is blowing enormous holes in the station wall. He’s firing off bursts from two rotory cannons himself, but Amiya has erected a barrier of smoky black mirrors that is absorbing the fire. Arturia and I are still cowering behind a heavy wooden desk, though it’s more of an illusion of security than it is actual security.
Just when it looks like Pazzo is going to take down the barrier before Wisadel can land a shot, Gavial comes charging out of the smoke, bayonet affixed to her assault rifle. She fires twice with her own semi-automatic shotgun, then tries to skewer Pazzo with her bayonet. He manages to avoid it, but she distracted him enough that he’s clipped by Wisadel’s cannon, and goes spiraling down to crash in the street. Even so, he gets off a shot that take’s Gavial in the leg, and I scramble forward with my arts wand to try to heal her.
“We’ve got him!” Wisadel cried, and she and Federico surge forward, only to be stopped by Amiya.
“No. He seems to be retreating, and we’ve attracted attention. We need to flee to avoid a pitched battle,” Amiya barks.
Wisadel doesn’t look happy, but she scoops me up and sets me on my feet, even as Gavial groans and gets to her legs. I mostly repaired the damage, but she has a limp as we start to run.
“This way. The back,” Federico states, and shows us a rear entrance. We run out onto a spotless alleyway, leaving the bound and gagged Arigolas writing in outrage behind us.
When I look at the alley, I have to admit, I’m surprised. It’s the cleanest backstreet I’ve ever seen. No graffiti, no rubbish, the streets are well swept. I knew Laterano was different from other city’s, but how much of this is the famous Sankta wealth, and how much is it Priestess’ mind control? We sprint down it, even as shouts and cries sound behind us.
“I’m sorry,” Amiya pants as we sprint. “I thought…he seemed to be a good man. I thought…if I broke her hold…”
“Well, think again, ears! Looks like some of these angel assholes are out to get us, mind control or no!” Wisadel snarls, her cannon strapped to her back as she runs.
“What happened to the Iberian accent?” Gavial gasps. She’s struggling, but keeping up on the freshly mended leg. I half wish I had James’s miracle arts, but I’ll treat her again when we can find a moment to stop.
“Fuck you, I just worked with a lot of Iberian mercs,” Wisadel snorts as we take a sharp turn.
“No, it was good. I almost believed you,” Gavial chuckles through gritted teeth.
“You need to extend your rs, and round your vowels,” Federico states. “The ruse was obvious. You are fortunate Arigolas has not been to Iberia.”
I shake my head, panting as we take another turn, Federico in the lead. I had hoped Amiya would just be able to free the city, but it seems things will be more complicated. Well. I won’t let anything stop me now. James is here somewhere. And I will find my way to him.