Guilty Spark — Roleplayer Guild

Infinitum

Cyrin pushed and shoved his way through the press of people, leaving a trail of truncated curses in his wake. Now that the Imperator had spoken, he had no time to wait for a path to open up for him. The prisoner’s would be led out soon, and the Crimson Knight would be expecting him to perform his duty promptly and without reservation. He reached the scaffolding and took his position hurriedly, scarcely a minute ahead of Asgard, the prisoner’s already lined up beside him, in chains. All at once memory of the duty he was to carry out tonight caught up with him, and he swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

He snapped to attention as she addressed him, nodding at her reassuring words since he didn’t trust himself to speak after the debacle with that… girl. He remained at attention as she read the list of charges against the prisoners, wisely using those moments to compose himself. His hand went to the hilt of his blade at the mention of his name, clenching in readiness. 

The explosions that shook the city startled Cyrin, nearly sending him off the platform and into the crowd. He drew his blade fully, seeing no enemy before him until Asgard fell to her knees. Following her gaze across the courtyard, he spotted the girl from before, and with his other hand he drew out his tome once again. The dark aura still surrounded her, hanging above the clouds of panic rising from the crowd. Was this an attempt to free the prisoners? Or, perhaps, something more sinister?

From this distance, he could tell nothing of the veracity of her words, besides the fact that they were phrased so as to be useless to his vision. Fortunately for his nerve, he also couldn’t take note of her foul regard. However, as the situation developed it became increasingly clear that something needed to be done, and that he lacked the skill or power to do it.

“Asgard?!” He called, as the girl stepped out of sight and her puppet began its assault. “Come to your senses! We need you!” Seeing his words weren’t breaking through, and having no recourse against the assault, he looked back and forth in a panic. The prisoners, eager to be freed, were testing the strength of their chains. This was the Librarian’s work, come to free their comrades.

His visage hardened, a tremble taking his sword arm. If he could do nothing else, it occurred to him that he could still carry out his duty. A swing took the head of the first prisoner, their blood cascading across the scaffolding to drip to the ground below as he moved to the second. He also knew something of Asgard’s powers, hopefully the blood on his hands would be enough for her to stop that abomination. He proceeded to the third.
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