#archelauswilhelm

They came for her eventually; she had been invited to dinner. Invitation seemed a thin description, given the hulking mountain of a man that informed her.

Sarah didn’t know how long she had been in this Sanctuary ... it was hard to think of it called that without a sarcastic note. The days slid by and she took to sleeping in the makeshift forge; there was a ragged mattress near one of the walls and a thin blanket. The heat from the small forges helped with what little sleep she did get between dreams of her friends and family and nightmares of what could be happening Julia.

But they could do nothing for the aches and pains in her bones and muscles; she wasn’t a young woman and this work was difficult even in her home forge with all the power-tools Kaleb had sourced for her. In this bastardization, she had nothing to move the metal asides from hammers and an old hydraulic hammer that was as temperamental as Micah.

Out of the old ship, across the main space of the outpost and Sarah got her first proper look at Sanctuary; it was bigger than she had first thought, but it was the people that set her on edge. Every one of them looked at her with a muted curiosity, some even clasped their hands and muttered prayers. Rushing to keep up with the massive man, Sarah felt as if she was the newest addition to a showcase; everyone wanted to see it. Some people she recognised; former hunters and other faces she had seen in Lestallum ... but Dave and the admin at HQ thought the hunters dead; why had no one made contact?

They crossed into another building and the watching eyes were shut off all at once. A heavy silence hung and she mentally kicked herself - should have used that time in the open to learn something about the layout of the outpost, not ogle the people back. Idiot. Kaleb or Dave would have gleaned some useful information in those short few minutes. Into a room that was dimly lit; some fabric hung on the walls, the air was heavier with a mix of smells - none unpleasant, and a large wooden dining table commandeered the space. Sarah let out a small squeak when the big hulking man laid his hands on her shoulders and made her sit on a hard wooden chair. It was only then she saw someone else standing, sitting only when she did. Pale eyes, fine clothing and a certain charged air around him that ticked something in her mind - this must have been him.

He still felt dizzy, not being able to properly walk along as someone dragged him over pavement. His head was pounding, especially the side where they must have hit him. Nothing made sense. His memories fluttering around as Loqi slowly tried to check his body. He couldn’t see, couldn’t really move aside from where he was steered. Couldn’t properly remember what had happened… Zell, lights, a loud noise – his name called and then…? The hands forced him down to sit and the sudden stop made his heart race, it could only mean that something was about to happen. The past weeks of having lost Julia, Sarah, Squall and other hunters, trucks and resources suddenly vanishing all haunted his thoughts... how ironic.

The cloth was yanked from his head and despite the room just being dimly lit, Loqi had to blink a few times and get used to it. The room was nearly a hall – and he sat on a table. The rope around his wrists was loose, obviously not bound anymore. He was free to move. Something that should relax him, yet it had the contrast effect. It could only mean they saw no threat in him. Whomever ‘they’ were. Loqi narrowed his eyes, seeing someone come from the shadows on the other side of the table he sat at. A tall man, dark hair and incredibly bright eyes. He looked well groomed, his beard and hair trimmed on point and clothed in fine clothes. Lucian royalty or the council had worn such robes… Loqi had seen them once. It was strange seeing them again and seeing someone who could afford to take so much care of his appearance in these times. Though he couldn’t deny it made this man give off a vibe of authority… The blond hunter glared at him for a few moments, before whispering something that was equally as arrogant and defiant as maybe brave. But his mind wasn’t yet coherent enough to create a more clever question. “And I thought you high born Lucians had all been crushed beneath Insomnia’s ruins. Or are you not only a kidnapper but also a body-stripper?”

“You showed me this... and I am forever grateful for any gift you have blessed me with. Even now.”

{@archelauswilhelm}

Without Tredd and Axis and with his hair grown out, Sonitus was able to exist as an anonymous fisherman in Old Lestallum, braving the darkness and the daemons to provide the settlement with fresh fish.

Fishing was simple. Peaceful, outside the occasional daemon attack. It let Sonitus pretend he was nothing more than the fisherman he portrayed himself as.

But make-believe couldn’t last, and reality was harder to take without Tredd or Axis nearby. They, at least, could distract him from the pitiful truth: without his voice, he was nothing.

He couldn’t exist this way.

Nobody travelled the waterways, so Sonitus felt no remorse for stealing a boat. He let the Wennath carry him west, towards Insomnia. It would be fitting if he died there, where his voice and his future had died.

Several days later, Soni killed the boat’s engine and left it drift. Brows furrowed, he stared out over the dark waters.

Were those...