After escaping certain death, the group travelled to Elderburgh, a dainty town, on the outskirts of Brinebourne. They managed to blend in with relative ease. Though the town structures were stained gloomy and drab, it buzzed with energy. It was filled with peddlers, shopkeepers, and passers-by.
“How much for it?” Jalems dropped the relic on a shabby table. The trader’s eyes widened, he carefully examined the artefact. He held it in his hands each way he turned it, the light changed the colors. The amphora absorbed light and thrust shards of fuscia and flamingo onto the ceiling. The Clerk’s eyes widened, the relic colored the entire room. He motioned for Jalems to wait for a moment. The scrawny sales clerk stumbled to the back of his establishment.
“Hey, I’m going to look around for a bit,” Marie said, her father acknowledged her request. She stepped out onto the busy street. The trader handed Jalems a hefty sack of silver, large enough he needed both hands to carry it. He grabbed a seat towards the back, and began counting. Jalems needed to ration their earnings if they were going to make it til their next job, which seemed far and few between.
***
She stepped outside, a mule carrying a bail of hay almost ran her over. Smoke filled her lungs forcing her into a coughing spell. The place felt familiar but dread lingered like the pain in a sore muscle. She didn’t want to stay any longer than necessary.
Muffled screams caught her ear. She walked around back in between the dingy buildings. She saw two men dragging a young maiden by her coffee-colored hair. Marie became enraged, she clenched her fist at the sight.
“Hey” she shouted, the two thickset men turned around, they traced her body with their eyes. Marie’s most beautiful feature was her long legs, though she encased them in mute-colored stretch pants.
“You want to join the party sweetheart?” one of them stepped closer to her. He brandished a knife from its sheath.
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“Let her go, I’m warning you” she demanded. The young lady kept kicking trying to free herself. The man restraining her struck her face, she let out a wordless cry. Marie took a step toward the girl, but the man blocked her path.
“I’ve never had a blonde before, I wonder what you taste like” he licked his lips. Marie balled her fist. Her hands ignited into two flames. The man was taken aback.
“I said let. Her. Go.” Marie yelled. Her face was hot, her heartbeat was throbbing so intensely she could feel it in her head. Adrenaline rushed through her like the sun pouring heat onto the earth. Her rage stirred quickly even she couldn’t keep up with it.
Before he could move she hurled her fist across his face, burning his skin on impact. He fell to the ground helpless, one strike did the trick, but Marie persisted.
While she struck him, all she could think about was how helpless that girl felt against them. How badly they were going to harm her if Marie hadn’t heard her cries. How terrifying it must have been, knowing they had the power to end her life in more ways than one. How could they think of doing such a thing. Who gave them the right to force her against her own will. These thoughts fueled her fists, after a while anger took control, and Marie slipped into autopilot.
The other man released the young maiden, once he saw Marie in action. She kept punching the man, pummeling his face into the ground, until White stopped her.
“Marie” White gasped, she dropped her basket to the ground, the fruits sprawled out on the gravel. White grabbed her fighting arm. Marie snapped back from her rage. Gale watched from a safe distance.
“Can’t you see he’s helpless?” White pointed out. Marie looked at him. She had brought such a husky man to his knees, he trembled beneath her screaming in agony. Half his face was pink as ham. The friction burn exposed his skin to the elements. She could see the muscles of his jawbone, along with his rotting teeth. She couldn't believe she caused it. Horror painted on her face, she let him go. He staggered to his feet barely clinging to life. Her fists returned to soft fingers.
She observed her hands, blood-stained and bright cherry red from contact. Shame overwhelmed her. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. As her scope of empathy increased, it blinded her from the amount of violence she was capable of. Marie didn’t know her own strength, it excited her, but other times she hated herself for it.
A wetness fell from under her nose. She grazed her upper lip. A cold stream of blood trickled down. Her body suddenly weighed heavily on her, she couldn’t lift herself to stand.