44th Glade 4622
Salen lied there in waiting for his potential execution; it felt like one, knowing all that he could do was wait. He waited and waited and waited. The sound of silence was deafening to him, as a single drop of water could be heard. Like tears, like melancholy. The darkest allusion to the sorrow that lingers within him, for he was never truly free. He was bound by a society that fed from one thing.
Power.
Having power meant morality to the Daravinic Entente, he had realised that magic was the brimming course of power that kept the Entente from doing immoral things to people, including wrecking other people’s lives for the sake of their own gain. He had realised from the way he was treated through his childhood, to now. Yet, he did not break; he kept going. He was even surprised how far he had come, for he knew that most people would have taken their own lives in shame, despair and hopelessness.
The glare in Salen’s eyes said it all, laying curled up like a fetus. He had been in the darkness for so long, that a single light would’ve blinded him. This had been the moment. He heard footsteps underneath the cellar, followed by the talking of other people inside.
“It’s judgment day for this one.”
Judgment Day.
Salen narrowed his eyes as the two took their time, he looked up at the ceiling for a moment and shook his head “My judgment has already been settled…” He said to himself, making a desperate attempt to utilise his Shaper and proceeded to cut the chain. He dug and yanked at the chains, until they eventually snapped free. With his wrists free, he bounced from the wall, propelling himself towards the ceiling and braced himself. He waited patiently as he heard the lock on the door open.
Snap.
They opened the door, finding that Salen had disappeared, they looked around closely as if they were confused? Where did Salen exactly go? They narrowed their eyes as Salen was losing his grip slightly from bracing himself on the ceiling. It was that moment, he pounced on the other male, sinking his razor sharp Shaper into the neck. Blood splattered everywhere as the carotid artery had been severed from the impact of his claw, it bursted; exploded on the dark walls. The other Corvo watched in horror as he proceeded to come at him with his claw “Call the others!” He pleaded to the Corvo who were present.
Salen darted, knocking the Corvo in front of him into the wall, grabbing the man in the face with his shaper. With one brutal swing, he threw his head into the wall, knocking him unconscious. He looked around and began running as fast as he could, puncturing a wound. He swallowed the ichor as his skin began to transmute against the dark surroundings of the cellar that he had stayed in; he hugged the wall as he peered at the corner, noticing that Dahlia had made her way down.
“Where is he? What do you mean he’s escaped…” She strutted through the cellar as she inspected the bloody scene that Salen had left behind, another Corvo had followed behind her “He killed a few of your men” She said; Dahlia witnessed the scene that was caused in front of her; it was a bloody sight to see and it made her nervous “Find him!” She demanded as she decided to throw her weight about “I’ll tear the whole place down if I have to… Go!” The Half-Sil’Norai couldn’t be seen clearly as the shroud camouflaged him well to the point where Dahlia had missed him. He took the opportunity to sneak off, tiptoeing as Dahlia was distracted by the scene.
The moment Salen had thought he was safe; he had gotten out of the cellar and made her way through Dahlia’s living room; decorated with purple and gold cushions, fine silk curtains and a lavish golden gilded hallway; it was like any Entente home, only much more decorative and extravagant in nature.
He tiptoed quietly, trying his best not to make a sound, until the effects of his shroud had started to wear off. Salen looked at himself and panicked, he wasn’t blending in with the environment anymore and Obscura wasn’t useful in this kind of setting. He had to come up with a plan; a plan B.
Salen looked around and found a dagger on the table, for which he could use. He grabbed it, taking its hilt and readying the blade, correcting his stance as he looked around; it wasn’t until he slashed the thin air, that he had revealed another Corvo by chance as he slashed their throat. The blood spewed from the orifice made by the knife, clumping to the floor with a flood. He sighed to himself, knowing he had just made a mistake and made the crime scene even worse.
He ran as fast as he could, darting for the stairs until an intimidating Orkhai male approached, laughing “Where do you think you’re going in such a hurry, darlin'' ” He said, charming to the other male who wasn’t amused; Salen didn’t make eye contact, knowing that some Corvo were more powerful than he was. He concealed the dagger under his sleeve as he rolled his eyes “Darlin’ oh why, you’re so original'' Salen had taken offense to the compliment, knowing it was a way to seduce him; it was no wonder he didn’t look him in the eyes as Beguiler was in effect.
Salen charged at him, pushing the man as far as he could upwards smashing into a window; the Orkhai had appeared to be relentless as he ultimately charged, grabbing Salen and throwing him against the wall; he yelped in pain, making eye contact with the Orkhai once again as there was a sign of agony in his ribs, he shuddered as he tried to control his breathing, knowing that he wanted to scream in anguish with only the option to fight the pain he was feeling.
He ducked as the Orkhai had delivered a smashing blow, before running to his side, shiving him in the abdomen, causing the Orkhai to elbow him straight into the wall, forcing him to drop his weapon on the ground. He could feel the air being forced out of him as the force winded him, causing him to become disorientated for a moment; weakened by the sudden injury; he looked at the Orkhai, before taking a calculated look at the knife on the ground; he watched the man’s arm turn black and red, revealing the weapon that he also has.
The Shaper.
A sinister looking claw, which appeared to be more stronger than his, indicating that he was a Corvo for a long time. His eyes widened, his heartbeat became faster, knowing how vulnerable he was. However, a large stone came flying at the Orkhai, hitting him on the head and knocking him unconscious. The gasp on Salen’s lips sounded shocked as he looked to the right of him; where the rock had come flying.
To his shock, he noticed Tiberius standing there.
“What the fuck are you doing here…!” He whispered, sounding angry.
“Been watching you for a while, I was worried…”
“You’ve been in Amoren all this time, what the fuck Tiberius, the Halamire would have your guts for garters, knowing how insane they are… We better get out…” He said.
“Sounds like the ideal plan.”
Salen winced as he tried to move, his knees bellowed with the pain; The taller Sil’Norai sighed “What have I told you about getting yourself into predicaments.” It had always been known for Tiberius to always be the caretaker of Salen, whenever he had made a drastic mistake. He was always the one there for him, always patching him up in times of need. It was romantic, as if they were almost brothers in arms, torn from each other’s site until the time that they had reunited again. The tragedy bore a melancholic start for the two; it made Tiberius appreciate him even more.
But Salen…
He was blinded.
Blinded by fury, revenge, hate, cruelty. He had forgotten every ounce of empathy he had, knowing someone had taken it away from him.
The Black Dahlia.
A woman of countless cruelty, only raised on her glass pedestal by a few who had allied and took great liberty in her work; it had only been a revelation to Salen.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here, before Dahlia finds us…”
“She’s busy in the cellar…” Salen grunted, wincing in pain.
“Anything broken?”
“I don’t think so…”
“I don’t have my kit with me, you’d have to ride through the pain, I’ll try to be gentle.” He lifted Salen and took cover, only to be spotted; Tiberius had taken a run for him, knowing how much pain Salen was in. There was nothing he could do, but simply run with Salen cradled in his arms.
The best place was out of Amoren.
For now.
Salen lied there in waiting for his potential execution; it felt like one, knowing all that he could do was wait. He waited and waited and waited. The sound of silence was deafening to him, as a single drop of water could be heard. Like tears, like melancholy. The darkest allusion to the sorrow that lingers within him, for he was never truly free. He was bound by a society that fed from one thing.
Power.
Having power meant morality to the Daravinic Entente, he had realised that magic was the brimming course of power that kept the Entente from doing immoral things to people, including wrecking other people’s lives for the sake of their own gain. He had realised from the way he was treated through his childhood, to now. Yet, he did not break; he kept going. He was even surprised how far he had come, for he knew that most people would have taken their own lives in shame, despair and hopelessness.
The glare in Salen’s eyes said it all, laying curled up like a fetus. He had been in the darkness for so long, that a single light would’ve blinded him. This had been the moment. He heard footsteps underneath the cellar, followed by the talking of other people inside.
“It’s judgment day for this one.”
Judgment Day.
Salen narrowed his eyes as the two took their time, he looked up at the ceiling for a moment and shook his head “My judgment has already been settled…” He said to himself, making a desperate attempt to utilise his Shaper and proceeded to cut the chain. He dug and yanked at the chains, until they eventually snapped free. With his wrists free, he bounced from the wall, propelling himself towards the ceiling and braced himself. He waited patiently as he heard the lock on the door open.
Snap.
They opened the door, finding that Salen had disappeared, they looked around closely as if they were confused? Where did Salen exactly go? They narrowed their eyes as Salen was losing his grip slightly from bracing himself on the ceiling. It was that moment, he pounced on the other male, sinking his razor sharp Shaper into the neck. Blood splattered everywhere as the carotid artery had been severed from the impact of his claw, it bursted; exploded on the dark walls. The other Corvo watched in horror as he proceeded to come at him with his claw “Call the others!” He pleaded to the Corvo who were present.
Salen darted, knocking the Corvo in front of him into the wall, grabbing the man in the face with his shaper. With one brutal swing, he threw his head into the wall, knocking him unconscious. He looked around and began running as fast as he could, puncturing a wound. He swallowed the ichor as his skin began to transmute against the dark surroundings of the cellar that he had stayed in; he hugged the wall as he peered at the corner, noticing that Dahlia had made her way down.
“Where is he? What do you mean he’s escaped…” She strutted through the cellar as she inspected the bloody scene that Salen had left behind, another Corvo had followed behind her “He killed a few of your men” She said; Dahlia witnessed the scene that was caused in front of her; it was a bloody sight to see and it made her nervous “Find him!” She demanded as she decided to throw her weight about “I’ll tear the whole place down if I have to… Go!” The Half-Sil’Norai couldn’t be seen clearly as the shroud camouflaged him well to the point where Dahlia had missed him. He took the opportunity to sneak off, tiptoeing as Dahlia was distracted by the scene.
The moment Salen had thought he was safe; he had gotten out of the cellar and made her way through Dahlia’s living room; decorated with purple and gold cushions, fine silk curtains and a lavish golden gilded hallway; it was like any Entente home, only much more decorative and extravagant in nature.
He tiptoed quietly, trying his best not to make a sound, until the effects of his shroud had started to wear off. Salen looked at himself and panicked, he wasn’t blending in with the environment anymore and Obscura wasn’t useful in this kind of setting. He had to come up with a plan; a plan B.
Salen looked around and found a dagger on the table, for which he could use. He grabbed it, taking its hilt and readying the blade, correcting his stance as he looked around; it wasn’t until he slashed the thin air, that he had revealed another Corvo by chance as he slashed their throat. The blood spewed from the orifice made by the knife, clumping to the floor with a flood. He sighed to himself, knowing he had just made a mistake and made the crime scene even worse.
He ran as fast as he could, darting for the stairs until an intimidating Orkhai male approached, laughing “Where do you think you’re going in such a hurry, darlin'' ” He said, charming to the other male who wasn’t amused; Salen didn’t make eye contact, knowing that some Corvo were more powerful than he was. He concealed the dagger under his sleeve as he rolled his eyes “Darlin’ oh why, you’re so original'' Salen had taken offense to the compliment, knowing it was a way to seduce him; it was no wonder he didn’t look him in the eyes as Beguiler was in effect.
Salen charged at him, pushing the man as far as he could upwards smashing into a window; the Orkhai had appeared to be relentless as he ultimately charged, grabbing Salen and throwing him against the wall; he yelped in pain, making eye contact with the Orkhai once again as there was a sign of agony in his ribs, he shuddered as he tried to control his breathing, knowing that he wanted to scream in anguish with only the option to fight the pain he was feeling.
He ducked as the Orkhai had delivered a smashing blow, before running to his side, shiving him in the abdomen, causing the Orkhai to elbow him straight into the wall, forcing him to drop his weapon on the ground. He could feel the air being forced out of him as the force winded him, causing him to become disorientated for a moment; weakened by the sudden injury; he looked at the Orkhai, before taking a calculated look at the knife on the ground; he watched the man’s arm turn black and red, revealing the weapon that he also has.
The Shaper.
A sinister looking claw, which appeared to be more stronger than his, indicating that he was a Corvo for a long time. His eyes widened, his heartbeat became faster, knowing how vulnerable he was. However, a large stone came flying at the Orkhai, hitting him on the head and knocking him unconscious. The gasp on Salen’s lips sounded shocked as he looked to the right of him; where the rock had come flying.
To his shock, he noticed Tiberius standing there.
“What the fuck are you doing here…!” He whispered, sounding angry.
“Been watching you for a while, I was worried…”
“You’ve been in Amoren all this time, what the fuck Tiberius, the Halamire would have your guts for garters, knowing how insane they are… We better get out…” He said.
“Sounds like the ideal plan.”
Salen winced as he tried to move, his knees bellowed with the pain; The taller Sil’Norai sighed “What have I told you about getting yourself into predicaments.” It had always been known for Tiberius to always be the caretaker of Salen, whenever he had made a drastic mistake. He was always the one there for him, always patching him up in times of need. It was romantic, as if they were almost brothers in arms, torn from each other’s site until the time that they had reunited again. The tragedy bore a melancholic start for the two; it made Tiberius appreciate him even more.
But Salen…
He was blinded.
Blinded by fury, revenge, hate, cruelty. He had forgotten every ounce of empathy he had, knowing someone had taken it away from him.
The Black Dahlia.
A woman of countless cruelty, only raised on her glass pedestal by a few who had allied and took great liberty in her work; it had only been a revelation to Salen.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here, before Dahlia finds us…”
“She’s busy in the cellar…” Salen grunted, wincing in pain.
“Anything broken?”
“I don’t think so…”
“I don’t have my kit with me, you’d have to ride through the pain, I’ll try to be gentle.” He lifted Salen and took cover, only to be spotted; Tiberius had taken a run for him, knowing how much pain Salen was in. There was nothing he could do, but simply run with Salen cradled in his arms.
The best place was out of Amoren.
For now.
