Apostasian Revelations

Chapter Twenty Three

Tumbling out of the back door Miguel gripped the edges of the blue frame, he had to make this one strike count.

The man infront of him wasn't able to keep him nor his feet straight, nearly tripping several times, it would be quick and painless; or so he hoped.

"My friend, you seem to be one of noble stature aswell, might I ask which domain you hold control over? I would ask about your family however.."

Miguel shook his head, stabilising the man in the alleyway whilst walking him to the front by the stone wall that seemed to step out of it's out boundaries and just out of reach of the silent, open metal gate.

"I get what you mean," He stated, "My domain is a little tricky one, it's one no one wants to visit yet honestly have no chance but to shift to."

The semi-struggling Virgil chuckled in his own apparent stupor, pressing against the walls for support, "Ah, must be a hidden gem, isn't it?"

Miguel gave a hint of a small smile while nodding. "It definitely is."

Virgil cocked his head however and rubbed his temples, "I never got it's name however? I'd certainly love to see such a hidden gem." He spoke without a single care in the world, not knowing the irony in such a state of mind.

Miguel gave a wider smile whilst coming closer, wrapping his arms around the man without armour, he looked just like any other peasant right now, even with his blond hair.

"My domain is but a simple one, Death." Was all he said before flicking his wrist, his blade propping up and beginning it's works on the blond man's back.

He smirked for a second or two as Virgil's head started to play catch up with his body, "I refer to myself as Miguel, by the way." He said with a mockery of noble etiquette.

Although Miguel had miscalculated as the struggling and confused Virgil suddenly shrieked, shoving him away whilst scooting through the open gate, that was when it finally dawned on him.

"Y-you! You're the assassin they sent?!" He asked with panicking eyes that darted everywhere, his feet seemed to still hold a mind of their own as their first thought was most likely self preservation, pain seared his bloody backside and it was visible from the dripping blood that seemed to be held still by his hands.

Miguel found himself frowning at the situation but leapt right back into action, vaulting over the high wall and giving a straight forward chase to the bleeding Virgil.

Virgil was bleeding heavily like a stuck pig and he wasn't sure what to do, he wasn't fully sober yet however with some luck he was able to avoid Miguel, dashing into the crowding streets and tumbling down onto the dirty pathway.

He was filthy, covered in dirt, grime and nothing nice; and if it had been any other day he would have been able to laugh it off.

Today was not any other day, some people looked but didn't care enough to help, he didn't look like a noble they could cuddle up to and leach off of.

As Miguel came into view high on the rooftops, Virgil had barely second left to come up with something, and come up with something he did.

He noticed his apparel, and the light drizzle that had almost stopped, the ground covered in a soggy state was perfect for mud to prevail in, and for his plan to work his hands would have to get dirty, quite dirty in fact.

Giving a high pitched shriek that could perhaps even shatter glass and impress opera singers he began rubbing mud onto himself and throwing it to Miguel who was about to slip on the danger tiles.

Virgil, in a cunning act, began screaming out the words, "Help me! Help me! That noble wants to gut me!"

As the relatively small mob grew to size with every passing second due to passersbys stopping to see the commotion happening, Miguel was in a pickle.

After dropping down onto the streets on his back and not leaving even a single grunt behind, he winced with his red eyes still tracking the downed man; though his sight was obfuscated by the crowd at hand.

He shoved through with great hardships and somehow managed to not get tugged along nor captured by the men and women, continuing the chase, though slightly blinded through his senses.

Finally he was able to track the limping man down, as he tumbled down again for the second time due to the slippery blue tiles, he was able to creep his way to him.

"Any last words?" He asked mockingly, his left hand cocked right where Virgil's heart should be.

Virgil's mouth clambered shut for a moment before coughing out a wordy response, "I did infact," he said as a matter of factly, "Though I doubt you'd let me go back to my home to get them, would you?"

Miguel's wrist flicked once, it flicked twice, but to his dismay the device seemed to stop working.

In a state of sheer panick Virgil shoved and kicked Miguel off himself once more, throwing sand in his eyes as well for good measure before taking off once more, clothes stained brown, red and muddy.

Miguel snarled in discontent, "Cheap shot!"

In such a state of confusion that Miguel had not witnessed in nearly half a decade, he was met by the sight of five half naked men with crooked teeth, swashbuckling swords and sharply shaped daggers.

"Grand, just grand!" He winced out before preparing himself for a final turnabout in nearly no time at all.