"You aren't going anywhere…"
Aemon craned his neck back at the black figure.
There weren't any signs of an actual person being inside the metallic covering. All he saw was a shadowy aura spilling out of the suit of armor as the knight readjusted his grip on the giant weapon, positioning it right up against Aemon's throat.
"Ow! Hey! Get off of me!"
Aemon tried to squirm his way out of the soldier's clutch, but the grip was too firm. The hand wrapped around his arm constricted any movement he made, making it nearly impossible to get out. Overwhelmed by everything happening, he thought:
Damn it all! Think Aemon. Think.
He clenched the armored glove with both hands and tugged on the knight's wrist, but it was no use. If anything, the trooper squeezed tighter than before, preventing Aemon from making any real progress on breaking free.
"What is your relation to that man?"
As the knight spoke, the vibrations rang throughout his metal attire.
While flailing around, Aemon angstily responded:
"That's none of your business! Now lay off of me, will ya?!"
Aemon cocked his leg forward, and kicked it back, nailing the dark knight right in the stomach.
This managed to get him off, but it most likely wasn't the best strategy, given that it definitely hurt Aemon's foot more than doing any real harm to the soldier.
In the spot where he landed the blow, the shiny metal radiated an intimidating purple glow, similar to the one at the end of the halberds the army used.
Ow! What is that stuff made out of?!
His feet slid on the ground while he struggled to keep his balance. The masses of people bumping into him didn't help much.
However, the surrounding hordes allowed him to blend in and make his escape.
"Phew… That was a close one."
Aemon ran as fast as he could, back to where Gavriil was held captive in hopes of saving him.
But, after witnessing the strength of these men and what they were capable of, in the back of his head, he was unsure how much he could fare against them if it came down to it.
Between heavy breaths, he said to himself:
"Damn it Gavriil, you better be okay…!"
Clenching his fists, he continued weaving through the clumps of people.
As he drew closer to where he was sure Gavriil was lying before the last time he saw him, all he saw instead was a trail of blood running down the road, with several others beside it.
While slowing down, Aemon observed that the bodies were gone, and the only remnants were crimson puddles followed by streaks of remains that eventually conjoined further down the street, like someone was collecting the defenseless bodies and dragging them elsewhere.
"W- What happened?"
Coming to a complete halt, he dropped to his knees, sobbing. Through his distraught patter, he said:
"But the promise you made. You promised to show me the field… You were my only guidance."
Even he could not hear his own impotent cries over the screams of the innocent townspeople just behind him.
Nothing could be seen ahead, only bare road, bits of glass scattered around from the broken windows of the raided buildings, and the scent of demise, furiously barraging at Aemon's nostrils.
Just over his shoulder, however, was a different story. Blades piercing skin could still be heard as civilians were piled up trying to escape their impending doom.
It was as if the army was conducting a sweep down the whole town, slowly making their way through, cleaning up and harming anything and anyone they encountered, leaving no living trace of where they had been.
The only tell-tale sign they were there was the sickening, red marks left by their victims.
Why? Just why do these people have to die…? What is wrong with this place?
Overtaken by anger and confusion, Aemon stood up while thinking:
Who are these people? And what do they want from here?
He kept on the road, keeping his head down, and doing the best he could to avoid giving much attention to the tragedies behind him. After all, enough guilt was already running through his veins from not saving Gavriil; he didn't need any more from watching innocent lives be taken and not doing anything about it.
It was clear he was too weak. The strength difference between Aemon and these anarchists was laughable.
His guard wasn't up, and matter of fact, he wasn't even nervous anymore.
After his connection to everything he knew was severed, and now, his only guidance was stripped away from him, nothing should have mattered.
Why would he care about this town, or the people in it? If anything, the island only did more bad than good to him.
It is definitely true that I want to go back home, but I need to treat this as my own, only for now.
But he refused.
Giving up hope is not an option that I am willing to take. Gavriil, I know you are still here… Somewhere.
Aemon kept walking, gradually picking up the pace, realizing that this was his new life, and it would be a while before he could change that.
Eventually, to his right, he saw the field that was supposed to be so beautiful and refreshing. Instead, it was the opposite. The same knights were equipped with huge scythes, chopping away at the flowers, then storing them in large sacks.
The scythes gave off the familiar amethyst hue.
"That glow. What is that? Before, when I hit that dude's armor, it glowed… And man, that was some tough metal! Is this some sort of magic…?
Aemon pulled over to the side, where the field met the road, and picked one of the stray flowers that managed to stay rooted. He stuffed it into his pocket and carried on.
The air changed from cool and clear to thick and salty as he went.
Eventually, he made it to a dock that housed small boats. To his left, another dock, with a sturdier structure, and larger ships, like frigates. And to his right, held the most terrifying vessel of all, the largest boat he had ever seen.
The armored ship was lodged into the port, destroying the planks and support beams, ultimately because it was too big to fit in any of the spaces the dock provided.
On the hull of the monstrous vessel, a large label was plastered across, which read:
Inferidus
At the rear of the boat, a boarding platform was lowered, while shackled civilians were guided into the ship.
One of them, bloodied and bruised all over, was Gavriil.