The Keepers of Eternity

II

Blaise burst through a window of the High Tower of Rains Shadow, out into the clear, cold night. Pieces of sharp glass fell around him, sparkling like stars, as he landed onto the cobblestone street and began to run again. He would not be safe until he was well out of the vicinity.

Arrows whizzed through the air, narrowly missing him, their sticky tips embedding themselves firmly into the ground. Blaise dodged the spikes and gracefully leapt over the counter of an empty vegetable stand which was situated next to the others on the town's main street.  Thoroughfares like this one were more marketplaces than streets--the close proximity of the booths here made it nearly impassable to anyone not on foot. He turned eastward down a dark alleyway, where the soldiers would hopefully lose his trail. They didn't. Arrows continued to fall from the sky.

Footsteps sounded behind him as he wove in and out, trying to stay clear of the arrows and dodge wooden barrels and crates. Faster and faster he ran, but there were still people gaining. Blaise recognized two Rvyni Racers appear on either side of him, running effortlessly; each of them were operating discs that enhanced their physical speed. The pair held long, jagged knives and they were closing in on him fast, trying to cut him off so that they could slash his throat.

Blaise knew exactly how to deal with them. He stopped running abruptly, leaving the Racers running away in the direction he had been going. Then Blaise looked behind him, and someone crashed into him.

He was tossed several feet before both he and his attacker hit the ground. Another Racer. They were fast, but also deadly silent.

The Racer landed on top of Blaise, pinning him to the ground. Immediately he felt a fist connect with his jaw, and another with his gut. Pain blossomed in both places, but it was dull and throbbing. Blaise had felt pain like this before, and he was thankful this one hadn't been carrying a sharp weapon.

He jabbed his kneecap upwards into the Racer's stomach for a brief distraction, and took hold of the other man's arms. Then, he twisted. The Racer cried out in pain, as the bone in his right arm snapped. Blaise wiggled out of the injured Racer's grip, then shoved his body off of him. Everything had happened in an instant, and thankfully, the others had not caught up yet.

Blaise leapt away, down a perpendicular alley. But there, a squadron of archers was waiting with their backs turned, as if they were expecting him from another direction. The Racers most likely were sent to herd me into these back alleys. Where they could shoot me down cleanly.

The screams of the injured Racer suddenly caught their attention, and the archers all spun around in unison. Blaise dived behind a large wooden cart, just before a a round of arrows was loosed. Some of the bolts hit the cart in front of him so hard that they went all the way through, becoming embedded in the wood. He blinked as one in particular came centimeters away from his head, then he backed up. This was his chance to go--while they were reloading. He exited that alley from the direction he came.

This escape was talking far too long, if Blaise kept this up, he might actually be cut down by these people. It would be a sad end for someone like him--to have lived for so long and die from the arrow of a common soldier. It was not a worthy death. Although, no death was worthy of him.

It took little effort for Blaise to find the archive of the disc that he needed. He was experienced in disc-operation, probably as experienced as one could get in life, and this was no exception. This one Blaise had named Flyer--he like simple names. Though this disc hardly allowed him to fly, it seemed that way sometimes when he used it.

Blaise, running through another wide alley, mentally grabbed the disc, forcing its panel to light up, always hovering just a finger-span over his left hand, moving with the pumping of his arms. Vivid turquoise light from the panel lit up both walls of the alley and reflected off of the slightly damp cobblestone street...this would be like a beacon to the archers who were chasing him. That didn't matter. He would escape before then.