- Messages
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- Character Biography
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Cassidy was only vaguely aware of what was happening; Neith had obviously been granted Mar's magic, but he had no idea how or why it had happened. He didn't know that could happen! Regardless, he wasn't about to look that gift horse in the mouth, not when it enabled her to speed through a surging crowd that could well have crushed her otherwise.
Cassidy, too, was blessed. Not by magic, but by being branded a killer. As he tailed Neith from a short ways behind, the crowd around him parted without the need for any barrier. They thought him a bloodthirsty criminal, and wanted to steer as clear of him as they possibly could.
Just this once, Cass paid a silent whisper of gratitude his rotten parents for the title.
The Guard was hot on his tail, angry shouts calling out behind him, dozens of boots against the road, the gnashing steel of blades being unsheathed a ringing death knell under any other circumstances. Through heavy breaths, an aching side, and numbing legs, Ackerson briefly felt a pang of true fear as he realized the possibility of being stuck in the back with an arrow.
A quick, panicked look over his shoulder assuaged that worry, and spurred him to make that final push to freedom as another blessing dawned on him.
The guards were helpless! They couldn't attack Cassidy with ranged weapons for fear of civilian casualties, nor could they use vehicles to catch up with him without plowing through innocents. It really wasn't Cass's style to use human shields, but this had been a day of firsts, hadn't it?
Gritting his teeth, Cassidy reached out and pushed his way past the final wall of flesh blocking his way. The wagon in front of him was like salvation on wheels, and Nee might as well have been the Seraphim herself, welcoming him home with an outstretched hand.
With a final leap, he grasped her hand, clambering up into the driver's seat of the wagon and delivering the hardest crack of the reins he'd ever managed in his life. Those poor horses reared back and took off as if their life depended on it, thundering away from the crowd, the parade, the guards, and toward the gates of the city.
Neith
Cassidy, too, was blessed. Not by magic, but by being branded a killer. As he tailed Neith from a short ways behind, the crowd around him parted without the need for any barrier. They thought him a bloodthirsty criminal, and wanted to steer as clear of him as they possibly could.
Just this once, Cass paid a silent whisper of gratitude his rotten parents for the title.
The Guard was hot on his tail, angry shouts calling out behind him, dozens of boots against the road, the gnashing steel of blades being unsheathed a ringing death knell under any other circumstances. Through heavy breaths, an aching side, and numbing legs, Ackerson briefly felt a pang of true fear as he realized the possibility of being stuck in the back with an arrow.
A quick, panicked look over his shoulder assuaged that worry, and spurred him to make that final push to freedom as another blessing dawned on him.
The guards were helpless! They couldn't attack Cassidy with ranged weapons for fear of civilian casualties, nor could they use vehicles to catch up with him without plowing through innocents. It really wasn't Cass's style to use human shields, but this had been a day of firsts, hadn't it?
Gritting his teeth, Cassidy reached out and pushed his way past the final wall of flesh blocking his way. The wagon in front of him was like salvation on wheels, and Nee might as well have been the Seraphim herself, welcoming him home with an outstretched hand.
With a final leap, he grasped her hand, clambering up into the driver's seat of the wagon and delivering the hardest crack of the reins he'd ever managed in his life. Those poor horses reared back and took off as if their life depended on it, thundering away from the crowd, the parade, the guards, and toward the gates of the city.
Neith
