Tales of An Escapade

Eighth Chapter

  After an elaborate conversation, Ane came to the conclusion it was best to leave. Mint and Mounty also said that it'd be better to leave Daphne for now and come back for her when it was safer. Sharran's Valley definitely wasn't the best place to be around.
  The group hurried outside of the grand hall. Ane, however, immediately stood eye-to-eye with Hayres, who had a very malicious glare on her face.
  "Going anywhere?" she smirked.
  "The wedding is done," replied Ane. "You do not need me anymore."
  "Perhaps I do," sighed Hayres. "How about you all come with me?"

  "What if we don't?" asked Mounty.
  "Ah, lovely niece, you've joined this group of nomads?"
  "They aren't nomads –"

  "You don't belong with them." Hayres pulled Mounty's wrist and dragged her to Hayres' own side. She then ordered the guards to take care of the remaining group and bring them to their accommodation. Despite the protest gushing out of their mouths, they still were being forced to their huts. Their huts were a bit closer to the edge of the city, making it both easier to escape and less smelly.

  "Don't try to escape," snapped one of the guards. "The wall guards will shoot an arrow right through your pretty heads."

  They were pushed in huts, each one of them, and Ane was left with Bethil and Elliot.
  "Hayres is vile. Her aura is an absolute disgusting burgundy. It is not safe here at all," she hissed.
  "As if we did not know that," sighed Elliot. "We need Daphne. She would get us out here."
  "I do not think my magic will have much effect here," added Bethil. "The walls are thick, and it is almost as if there is a dome above the city refraining me from giving it my fullest."
  "I can feel that too. It could just be the smell as well," replied Anevay.
  Jarco, Livi and Lewir were sat in their huts as well. They didn't talk, and just looked around the place. It was a small house with one floor. Walls that divided kitchen, living room and bedrooms had a particularly non-fresh scent and a smother of death seemed to linger and stick against the ceiling.
  Hallan, Mint and Marrie sighed deeply. Would they ever really reach their destination? The Western Bay was so close, yet now it felt like a thousand miles away. Hallan could just burn down the entire city, but that was too much of a risk. People would survive, and to risk your own death like this was a sign of mere stupidity.
  "Why were you hanging out with those nomads?" hissed Hayres. Mounty's arms were clutched between the hands of Hayres' guards. Her throne looked like red velvet and it was almost as if blood dripped down the grey base of her seat.
  "They are my comrades, Hayres," she said. "Stop calling them nomads. They have a goal."
  "What?" laughed Hayres mockingly. "Save the world and bring peace to this land?"
  The serious glare on Mounty's face silenced Hayres. She showed a rather disgusted scowl.
  "Since when have you become such a hero? It's tasteless, Mounitilly. They won't bat an eye for you."
  "Daphnelle will."

  "She's dead to both you and I."
  "You can't decide that," scowled Mounty.
  "You ran off with her leftover boyfriend," Hayres laughed. "Don't think she sees you a friend."

  "I still have –"
  "No. You don't have feelings for her anymore."
  "Stop deciding my life," snapped Mounty.
  "I'm your guardian," exclaimed Hayres as a response.
  Mounty tried to lunge forward and released wave of strong, energised power. It eventually sparked up into a wave of hot fire which rapidly rolled down the room into Hayres' direction. She could shield it rather easily and stood up.
  "Did you try to burn me, little rat?"
  "You're the witch that authors write about in fairy tales," said Mounty. "A cliché, sad lady with an attitude that's way too prepubescent for their age."

  Hayres was lost for a solid second, but then proceeded to slash her claws into Mounty's face. It left a huge scar in the shape of a tiger's claw on her face, caused by mere magic. Sapphires, but close to quartz, because the stinging pain that was left in Mounty's wound was nearly paralysing and stung like a bitch. Mounty just wanted to faint, right there, right then, but she had to stay strong and rely on the hands that held her up.