One by one, the rest began to follow over cautiously. What their reactions were from the whole experience was more than anonymous to himself, but at this moment in time, it could not matter. Once everyone had gathered into the alleyway, which was nerving him with regards to how large it was, he began to move slowly within the shadows they were all concealed by. This time, he decided to speak. It was in a small, quiet and raspy voice, but was still clearly his own.
"Right...We all okay?" He listened to any small points made by the others, but did not answer those that asked about what had happened to him. It would take too long of a time to explain, and time was something not in their grasp. In fact, it was so far away from them that there was a risk Fae even asking the question in the first place. Yet the garrisons pouring around the city's buildings were occupied with the uprisings that now began to settle into play. This was the narrow chance at escape made wider, seeing as they had reached the stables.
Once Fae had led them to the mouth of the alleyway, the stable became fully visible. It was more of a stop for the local horses, those sometimes entered in races, those used for farming work and those used for marketing trips. There they were, six horses, all aligned together with tight leashes onto their posts. Strong in size, but varying in width, they all seemed to match one another in their own ways. MiddleSeed wasn't a town of horse-breeding, like Reedstan further to the West, but it had managed to grow a good amount of their own. They were not owned by anyone, and were in fact public. This was what made the town so collectively bonded as one, as a community of true organisation. Well...That was until now.
Fae walked past each of the posts, and with a single swipe each time, he cut the rope tying them down with his right arm, which held the sickle-ended hatchet. Before each horse would bolt off in the panic and heat, he would comfort each one with a few seconds of patting, murmuring words of comfort. It was as if him and the beast had connections, much like they would to anyone who lived here. It was quite remarkable. He began to lead the horses over to the individuals, before finally handing the last one over to the woman.
"It's a thirty minute ride south-west. It has the requirements and room to fit my desires, and perhaps yours. Those who had it before me abandoned it during some...complications." He sighed, looking around at the numbers. There were seven of them, plus himself. Eight individuals...It wouldn't work out. This led to him sighing heavily, placing the tips of his fingers against his forehead.
"Look...This may really annoy the shit out of you...But two of you lot won't be able to come...The location is specifically designed for six individuals due to the role of its emplacement." He gave a very sympathetic look. His expression showed his deepest apology, rather than his words.
"But..." Fae took out a small rugged piece of paper and an ink capsule from one of his few satchels on the webbing he wore. He leaned against the posts that his chosen horse was originally tied down to, and he began to scratch out words. These were, again, words like no usual ones. They used a strange lettering system, that had altered, yet sometimes similar, alphabetical markings. An encryption, obviously, but in the truth, it was the language spoken by himself earlier when the woman had first met him. It didn't take long for him to splodge the ink onto the paper and prepare a letter. He sealed it up with a fold, before quickly using some string to hold it together in place.
"Whoever isn't going to come with me...which is two of you...One of you, or both...will be given something of the up-most importance. It's more important that anything I'm doing, besides providing a place to hide for the time being, because of who it'll go to." Fae pointed back at the buildings behind them through the alleyway. Some were burning from the fire's spread, some were ransacked from the soldiers. He thought of what to say, because it could change the course of these individual's histories.
"This is not the first time something this horrific has happened...The Thalburn are covering up something from its past, our past...my past. They do this whenever a single sign of danger to their power is at hand...In the past years, thousands were killed and taken from the streets without realisation. And the worst part is, no one beyond the combat zones are aware of it. This letter...This single letter I wrote, can change that for at least now. Whoever takes it, goes to Alfheim...find a building called the Burnt Oak and deliver it to the worker known as Hera Noa, a tall blonde woman. It's a long journey, I know...but the heart of a power lurks in that city's walls that's been scaring the Thalburn for long enough." He looked between them all. There were more than the woman had said there were in her group. Some were not aware of the agreement, which could've made them potential candidates for his task. But then again, he knew that the people of this world were wise not to trust anyone else. He saddled onto his horse, having the letter still ready for collection in his hand. For all he knew, as long as they knew he was not aligned to either specified side would make him trust-able. And trust was exactly what he needed, as well as them...
Banned
