Slick Chase

Ostiarium
JP with Omni and Bandorchu

“Dhiathan damnadh!“
Alexis snarled, spinning around to give chase yet again.

Maybe she ought to just let this one go, hope that the youngster would be willing to share his associates‘ hideout soon.

But she found that she couldn’t, even realising that this was darn stupid. There were probably already enough of those guys around that she didn’t know of yet, but that still made her want to drive down their numbers to the best of her knowledge and ability.

And deeper still than that at least somewhat rational reasoning she was driven by the mere fact that they were with the Brotherhood.

Alexis gave chase through the short and twisting alleys of Ostiarium. Feet pounded the cobblestones, one pair in pursuit, the other pair determined escape.

The night skies above the stone city had darkened even more, not just from smoke, but from burgeoning cloud cover. Then, as if responding to the city's turmoil, and heeding the prayers of the faithful, a merciful cold rain began to cascade down, a welcome courtesy of the Goddess of Sea & Storms. The downpour was sudden and heavy, the cold droplets hammering against the stone and dousing the fires that raged within the dock ward.

‘Count your blessings.’

A stray thought at the edge of Alexis’ mind as she grimly kept up with the fleeing assassin.

Maybe indeed some prayers had been answered and Cambena had put an end to the current turmoil. Ostiarium’s people could use any sliver of hope they could get.

She hadn’t even checked if Tarmen had joined the chase, but it was for the better if he didn’t, and secured the bird in the hand. Given that she wasn’t even chasing two birds in the bush, just one, that honestly felt like the wiser thing to do.

But oh well, she had never claimed to be particularly wise. Stubborn, on the other hand…

The rain soaked through clothing, plastering hair to face, The slick cobblestones became a new challenge for both of them, but the Helian knew these streets better than sand and slab. The assassin's lead began to falter. His injured leg, ignored in the heat of escape, now betrayed him, his pace slowing just enough for Alexis to gain ground. Their breaths came in ragged gasps, the cold rain mingling with sweat.

Finally, in a narrow, rain-slicked alley that offered little refuge, the assassin slipped and took the inevitable tumble, this time losing his blade. He turned to face her, while trying to reach a hand for the curved sword.

Alexis forced herself into another sprint, so she could kick away the weapon before he could reach it.

She pointed her own blade at him and growled:

“Mer’at.”

She didn’t allow herself to relax. As a rule of thumb, people got a lot more dangerous when cornered. Make “people” an highly trained assassin to boot and if you let your guard down, you go down.

Rain streamed down his face as he looked up at Alexis, blinking away the relentless water that blurred his fate. He almost wanted to laugh. So this was it? A man never knew what fate had planned, but he would not deny his Goddess’s will.

"Be done with it," he uttered roughly, a simple yet profound acceptance of his fate, his voice steady, devoid of fear or plea. His resolute eyes met Alexis's, silently conveying his readiness to face the end with the same conviction with which he served his cause.

Alexis rolled her eyes. Fanatics.

“Not that easily, haqi.”

She hissed, cautiously stepping closer. If she had to knock him out and carry him to interrogation, she fucking would.

The man’s face twisted in anger as she befouled the term brother in Ozaisnae using her Helian tongue. That and his fury boiled at the fact that she hesitated to kill her enemy. She was weak. He saw no way of escape but through death in the end of this and he certainly wasn’t going stick around and betray his brothers by being captured for torture and interrogation.

With a sudden, defiant movement, he lunged forward, not in attack, but with a grim resolve to control his own fate in some better way. Alexis, caught off guard by the abrupt shift, could only watch as the man forcefully impaled himself on her outstretched blade, choosing immediate death. His eyes locked with hers in a final lingering stare, hands gripping the blade, silently declaring his unyielding faith and the lengths to which he would go to preserve it.

Alexis was taken aback, but not for long. Honestly, she should have seen it coming.
She sighed, exasperated, and squatted down, never breaking eye contact.

“Think this makes you special? It doesn’t. Got your type here, too. Different name, same fanatics.”

Forcefully impaling oneself wasn’t exactly clean business, and while he did achieve himself dying soon, it might still take a bit of agonising time.

“Guess I can’t blame you, though,” she murmured to herself. Roles reversed, she might very well have done the same, to protect those she cared about.

She took her dagger to his throat and shortened his suffering. Nothing to gain from drawing this out.