He didn't bother attempting to tell the children to look away. There was no time. And if they hadn't seem something like this yet in the brief spans of their non existent childhoods, they would sooner or later. Mira certainly had, and it was with a mixture of terror and unflinching relish that she watched their cruel jailer die in a gurgling pool of his own blood.
The large man went down like a tree. A bleeding, wide eyed, incredulous tree to be sure, but a felled one none the less. Like Kaie, Noven backed away to avoid both the spray of blood and being pinned under all of that dead weight.
Silence filled the room for a handful of ticks as everyone stared at the corpse, then at one another, until the Myrian spoke first to break the spell. With a grim nod, Nov moved forward to rifle through the man's pockets. He had seen the hopeful looks some of the children now wore, but one glance at Kaie's uneasy expression and Nov knew. Something wasn't right. Or, at least, something was telling both mercs that they needed to remain on guard. He could feel it in his bones. Because, as life thus far had taught them all, nothing in the Berth was ever this easy.
He hadn't spent more than a few ticks searching when one of the captive children finally spoke up. "He kept the keys on the wall. There, by the door. It's hard to see but you should be able to feel it out."
Noven didn't have to look up to know it was Mira who spoke. There was tremor of fear in her voice, though her eyes shone in the dark with desperate hope. For the better part of gods knew how many days, she and the others had considered themselves done for, doomed to a lifetime of nightmares and slavery. To have been rescued from such a fate only to be dumped right back in was a cruel irony indeed. One not lost on the scrawny, dark skinned orphan.
But now...now they were saved. Only question now was, how many would make it off this ship alive, if any at all?
As Mira chewed over these morbid and all-too adultlike thoughts for a mind as young as her own, Noven did as he was told. There was no time to question her certainty and he trusted his little protege had maintained enough wits during her captivity to take note of such crucial facts. Feeling along the wall by the door, he moved inch by inch, eyes guided by nothing more than guess work and the very faint stream of Leth's light that peeked through the single porthole in the hold.
He fingers felt nothing but worn, damp wood for a better part of chime. And then, without warning, they hit metal.
Nov snatched the keys off the hook without a second thought and rushed to the cell door. He fumbled the first few times before the key finally sank in and turned with a click. With a hushed but growing sense of excitement, the children poured out like water loosed from a dam. The cook thought he counted about eight or nine children, but he couldn't be sure in the dimness and hadn't the luxury of double checking.
"Alright, runts. Keep quiet, stick close, and don't get in the wa--"
There was a scream. Nov whipped around, his eyes struggling to make sense of what he saw. One of the children was dangling in the air, legs kicking, torso twisting. She was being held by someone, though her assailant's features remained hidden in the shadows. There was a click. Nov could make out the vague shape of what was most likely a crossbow. And it was pointed right between him and Kaie.
"One wrong move and one of you gets a bolt to the head," a surprisingly smooth voice announced itself in the darkness. "I'm a fair shot, and I can't miss from this distance. So stay put. Unless you care to test my skill."
Noven's fists clenched, but he reluctantly obliged. The child in the slaver's arm was one of the new additions to Sunset Orphanage and he had yet to learn her name. But he recognized her voice and her clothes. It made the crimson veins across his left hand hum and throb at the thought of sending this spineless vagik to the deepest, darkest depths of pain that Vexation could provide.
"I've a better idea," the cook suggested, his voice rough with raw, poorly suppressed anger. "How about we settle this like true Berthians, and not cockless cowards who hide in the dark behind a lass not old enough to know her own moon flow. Or do you threaten us with darts because you're afraid you'll break your soft, nancy fists?"
There was a moment of silence. And then the slaver stepped forward into Leth's faint light, crossbow now aimed for Noven's head and his alone.
Good. Just the way the cook wanted.
"Bold words, boy. But I am, after all, the one with the crossbow, and you with nine other mortal souls to account for. And now that I think about it, I've changed my mind." To Nov's horror, the slaver redirected his crossbow to aim at Kaie instead. "I'm going to shoot her first. And then, once I've snapped the neck of this pathetic little creature, just to wound you twice in one blow, I'm going to laugh as I watch all of you burn."
"Mira, wait!"
But it was too late. The orphan already plunged the Tamo into the slaver's back. There was a look of surprised pain before the telltale twang of a bolt being released sang through the air. Noven dove into Kaie without hesitance, plowing into her and sending them both crashing to the ground.
"You little bitch."
There was murder in the slaver's eyes as he tossed the weeping orphan in his arms to one side, all else forgotten. Mira spat in his face. Then she bolted, sending the rest of the orphans scattering as the slaver gave chase.
Meanwhile, Nov hissed in pain as he rolled to one side. The bolt hadn't hit either of them, thankfully, and instead lodged itself into the wall behind them. But it had still grazed the cook across the arm and created a rather large gash. A shallow one, Nov would find out later, though none of it mattered once he saw that Mira was one step away from being pinned into a corner.
"Kaie," he blurted, stumbling back up to his feet, hand clutching the side of his right arm, "he's going to kill her!"
