Chapter 12: Roh

The evening streets were wide awake with crowds of people, coming and going through the bazaar stands scattered all over the alleys and open spaces.. Lanterns were flying above, like jelly fishes acting as stars, brightening the whole town of Dansilum.

Roh in his hood, walking through the line of crowds, pickpocketed everyone who he passed, like collecting flowers in the aisle. He had complained earlier, So I'll harvest money, 'cause this is the job I was being paid for? Didn't you get the logic? If I can just pickpocket money to earn money, why do I need to join this crew and work to pickpocket money for this crew, to earn money? Wabushishabiblashu!

Xienorra told him, First of all, you're here because you have to pay me your freedom from the prison. Second, we have funds, but we need to divert everyone's attention once all people bother the guards to find their lost belongings and catch the thief, and at the same time, we'll have more money. Two birds in one stone, isn't it nice?

Pay you? Or the invisible man? Roh had asked and quickly got an answer. Our client gave me a potential list to be my crew, and the answers were through my fingers. Satisfied? Or maybe I should just pick someone else.

At that moment, he didn't wonder how this invisible client wanted him to put in the choices, because he was pretty famous and pretty cool. But what questioned his mind was Efran.

After, he went to the old wooden toilet cubicle, sorting out money from pouches and wallets to put in one satchel. He then put it in the window. Wolfy's head slipped in the window, almost surprised him, and snatched the satchel out, together with other bags. Then a snow owl followed, landed on the sill. He almost jumped when he saw its eyes popped out, bungeeing at its bloody veins like ropes.

"Oh my J!"

The owl dropped a note and flew quickly.

Date: 8-07-1710

Snowy says it is nice to meet you. You already met each other, though you might not see her in the dark in the prison because she was shy with her eye.

-Sierra

Roh arranged the letter by the date.

Snowy says it is nice to MEET you.

YOU already met each other, though you might

not see her in the dark IN the

PRISON because she was shy with her eye.

8-07-1719 - Eight words per line, and other remaining numbers were the position.

Roh gulped. He just stole hundreds of piloncitos and he would read a letter like this after. He hissed. This was all to break Efran from the prison, but they needed to confirm which prison first, and Dansilum Town was their first checkpoint. He crumpled the paper, threw it on the stone toilet bowl, and flushed.

Roh creaked the door open and was bumped to a giant soldier–six feet, huge chest and biceps like made of copper, almost breaking up the fit brown civil guard uniform. Staring his grumpy turquoise eyes at him, like seeing a cornered rat ready to pierce his shiny giant lance, as tall as the user.

Roh froze. Was he about to arrest him?

The soldier's eyes furrowed deeper. "How long would you stand there and watch me pee my pants?"

Roh came back to his senses, wore an awkward laugh, "Oh, right! Sorry! I just happen to be stunned by your cool weapon!" He patted the soldier's intimidating shoulder. "I'm gonna go now!"

Finally, he was able to release all the breath he held back in one sigh and straightly went to the quiet space of stony walkway with trees and post lamps.

"Oh, Efry, why did you let yourself get caught?" he murmured while wiggling his white sleeves on his wrist. His chest was embraced by a brown vest and a beret that warmed his silver hair was paired with a grey scarf. They're supposed to be on the way to Deinsforth's subdivision, disguised as a Civil Guard, and forge a warrant for inspection and find clues for children recruited as rebels. But Efry wasn't there when Caesura came back, panting behind her veil, hugging her violin case in guilt.

They needed Efran, so they must bring him back. But deep in Roh's heart, he wanted to bust Efry out because he was a friend, the one who gave him an apple at his cool entrance. A sweet boy like him doesn't deserve to suffer in a boring cell. Roh knows how crazy it feels to be in a cell, that he can't bear a day without talking with other prisoners or making fun of the dungeon keepers.

Roh could now see the tall bricks with barbed wires around, the torches made the metals glint yellowish. His feet wanted to back out and run, as his fresh memories of cell life started to appear in his mind. Guilt of being wanted still resonates with his blood and he made a little effort to remind him that he was no longer an infamous thief, tho he's still a thief, but no thousand piloncitos bounty reward posted on walls anymore, and that's all thanks to Xienorra–or to the invisible man who funded his prison fee to clear out his name.

From the stillness of small fires in torches, they became like carousel horses scattering everywhere in front of the facade, as the soldiers being ordered one by one, gone, and Roh guessed that it was about tightening the security in the bazaar festival and finding lost items. He chuckled, until he saw a curly girl exited from the prison hall, holding a package leaned on his stomach–Xienorra.

She stopped in front of Roh, one brow upped as he looked at him. "Have some gentleman."

"Gender equality," Roh shrugged. And Roh rattled as Xienorra threw the package to him. As he caught the box, his tight limbs were disappointed by its lightweight. Xienorra grinned as he bubbled his mouth.

"Where's Efry, then?" Roh whispered, changing the subject.

"My officer friend says he wasn't on everyone's cell list. He knows where he is, but we must deliver this package to the mayor first."

"Why don't we just give all the money I stole to him?"

"This package is worth a hundred times more than your baby piloncitos."

He lifted the box and tried to scan around. "What was this? So light to be a single gold. Papers? Papers were even heavier."

"We won't know unless we ask the Mayor himself."

"Or maybe we can just open it and pretend we delivered it safely?"

"The officer will ask for a code for confirmation."

Minutes had passed when they arrived at the black metal gate, carpets of grass, maintained bushes and flowers were waiting inside before anyone could reach the three-story mansion.

They were expecting someone to welcome them, a guard they supposed. But the guard house seemed empty. Until Roh decided to tip his toe to get taller to peek. But that wasn't enough so he needed to climb the gate a bit and his eyes winced when he saw the guard that was bathing in his own blood. Roh then turned to Xienorra and gestured his hand like cutting his neck–meant that someone was dead.

Xienorra's eyes were already sharpened before Roh reported. She jerked her head, telling Roh to climb inside. After he did, she threw the package over the wall to him and she climbed to go inside. Someone might be on the high ground, the window, watching them now entering in bare, like exposing all your skins to an enemy that you don't know the numbers. Dangerous.

But Xienorra seemed impatient. And Roh was curious afterall. And he has confidence too. He went so much in troubles, fist fights, unto the blades shedding flesh, against the thugs, and even against the soldiers. He was so good at it and it was all credited to his father, a good teacher who taught his student well before he left without saying goodbye and his mother died waiting. Then experience polished his skills, adding a spice of thievery.

Then they passed through the bushes and azul wild flowers glinting in the moonlight. As it let themselves swayed by the breeze, its sweet perfume brushes to his nostrils. It reminded him of Kiara so he picked one. The girl surely loves flowers, especially the blue ones, the color of her and their father's eyes. How he wished he were the same too, not silver.

The white door was a bit open, as if already waiting for them to come. As they passed through the hallway, guards were taken down in brutal deaths. Head cuts, belly buts, slant slice on torso, and sometimes split apart vertically. The assassin seemed to have done a dirty job, as if enjoying the different types of butchery. Xienorra knew exactly where to go, to the second floor and to the biggest door in the center. As they opened the door, they saw the worst. Fingers cut into pieces, ears were decapitated, arms and feet were detached too, and tongue yanked away on the ground with fresh blood pooled over the floor. Like a pig meat cut into pieces to sell different parts with different dish purposes.

Their reaction didn't change. They were used to this.

"Shall we go back now then and report it to the Civil Guard friends?" Roh asked, but Xienorra kept her stillness, staring at the body.

"We need to know the code first."

"Are you planning to raise him from the dead?"

"Or maybe not the code, but some more important information. Collect his guts."

Roh looked at her in disbelief. "What?"

"Just do it."

Roh pulled his blade from his waist and flipped on his hands before gripping it tightly. Then he cut through the dead's stomach like cutting a package, grabbing the slimy and juicy intestine out of its belly, and cutting the end tail like cutting a navel from a newly born baby. Xienorra threw the jar she found in the room and Roh caught it without looking and placed the spaghetti inside.

The wind came suddenly cold, brushing in Roh's skin, and like an ice lingering in his nostril. He twisted the jar to close and put it in his satchel. "Is it already winter?"

"Why?"

"Then duck!" Shouted Roh as the window shattered into pieces and a huge ice shard whooshed heavily and crushed on the wall where Xienorra was supposed to be if she didn't roll to his side and crouched.

"That's obviously not the butcher's move!" Roh tried to whisper.

"Then he came to pack the meat into the freezer," Xienorra said, and they swiftly ran when the second batch of ice flew to them.

Kirovah Ichor
The Rogue Knight

MVCabusas | The Invisible King