[h3][u]Ayer Lecomte[/u][/h3] 
- [b]Around 9PM[/b]
- Mentions: [@Mataus]

The winded tinkerer practically tripped over himself as a blaze blurred past him, letting out a less-than-graceful yelp as the alleyway lit up behind him. It didn't look like the pursuers really expected it either. One unfortunate soul was caught in the flare, letting out a shrill scream with his allies scrambling to to douse it out and recover their position. As he stumbled, Ayer held onto his precious Ars, spinning his body try and save it from impact. He'd rather die than lose it now. Of course, it wasn't that dramatic. A hand had already yanked the wimpy tinkerer and propped him up against a flight of stairs. Ayer was confused, blinking wildly. In the flash of the orange bloom, he saw a young man. Someone he's never met before. Was this person trying to help him? For what reason? But as he looked at the face, he realized something even more important. This wasn't just any man either, it was an Eldi. 

"You're..." but before he could even finish, the mysterious savior was already leading the way. 
"T-to the roof? Wouldn't that...? Uh, ah, okay!" he said over the chaos below, following up the stairs after the fleeting shadow. 

There was no time to question things now. He had no idea how to navigate this town. One way or another, he was bound to be stuck running endless circles in these binge-scented backstreets until they caught him. And with the commotion going on now, the rest of the search party was surely making their way here. Despite his hard-wired nature against making half-calculated decisions, heeding this stranger was his only chance to get out alive. Ayer tried to keep his breath stable as he tailed along, his feet stamping up the long path of stone steps. Each step, which grew only heavier and heavier, he realized just how unfit he was for all of this action. He wasn't built for this. Not at all. 

At the top of the steps, Ayer bent over heaving as he tried to catch his wits, his breath, and to contain his growing need to vomit. His heartbeat pounded in his ears like war-drums, his face crunched in absolute pain. 

"Sorry... I just, I just don't do this sort of thing often... haha..." he blurped, cursing to himself and spitting the iron-tinged saliva out of his mouth. What a shame. Fortune from the divine shows up to his aid, and this is how he presents himself. Truly, what will his name become if word of this gets out? If he even gets out?

...