Before anyone else even had the chance to do anything, the fight was over. The Corpse just walked up to the monster and slammed it to the ground like it was nothing. Even after it had fallen, they just started looting the remains, not that there was much left. Right, most of these people looked like they could be soldiers, prisoners of war would at least be normal within an army, but that still didn’t account for all of them, like her, and Primalia looked to be a lady-in-waiting for some rich family.
River stared briefly at the stinking armour, wishing that she had some way to mask the smell. At the very least, they’d got moving quickly, following the Little-One’s directions. The serpentine spirits came close enough to bite, but they were stopped by way of being attached to the ceiling, and they were able the leave their block of the cells without them interfering. The Little-One followed at the rear, and River watched over her shoulder as he reanimated that mad-armour and kicked it off on its way. The blood drained from her face, and her wings and shoulders stiffened. Despite being their rescuer right now, she would have many questions for him once they were out of this prison. Although, without more words for him to mimic, it wasn’t like they’d be getting any useful answers out of him.
She followed close to the group, careful not to knock into any of them with her wings. At each cell they passed, she strained to see the captives inside; would she find the familiar sparkle of Viscaria’s eyes, or Poppy’s golden hair, or the bronzed barn-owl wings that Uncle Flint was simultaneously proud of and yet kept hidden. Yet even if any of them or anyone else she knew had been there, she wouldn’t have recognised them with the damnable shadows hiding them from her. Each figure was dull, lifeless, but she couldn’t help but keep looking.
“It’s impossible that they took just us, isn’t it?” She didn’t ask anyone in particular, still peering into cells, “How deep do these cells go? I couldn’t see much when I was captured, but if they took me then there might be other people from Ferriveil here too.” In fact, River looked over at the Little-One, why did he choose to rescue them out of everyone here?
Even still, as they arrived at some sort of barracks, there were people still catching up to them. Two more men, one in a bird’s mask, very different from the Little-One’s, who practically stumbled up to them. Thankfully, Primalia moved quick enough to catch him before he fell. River followed suit in approaching him, her questions about the amount of blood but lack of bodies within the barracks shoved aside.
“There are beds over here where you can rest a bit, until whatever spell they put on us wears off,” she said, “we can’t stay too long, but a moment to catch your breath should be okay, right?” she directed her question to the Little-One.