Mayen still held his bow when Soren’s battle cry echoed in the night. People would hear, words would reach the guards, and it was only a question of time before real brigade men arrived. The mountain kite was still there, in a menacing posture but unwilling to close the distance: she kept safely away from the intruders from where she was, on the kitchen counter. Rowen’s head darted to the door, voicing the name of his cousin as blood fled his head. The round maid surprisingly held on her own two feet, not caring that the others would see she had just wet herself. Soren’s voice was heard again, haggard yet determined. It said “run”, repeating it until silence fell. Eliadoriss fell into a frenzy of rage and threw herself like a bear against Pete and the other man. It happened so quickly that Mayen could not react in time, focusing more on his fear of shooting her rather than the attackers. She was quickly neutralized with strong muscled arms with scars, as if that last detail amplified the former. Olicia ordered her release, although her tone made it all too obvious, she had no means to force her will on them. Then the mountain kite swoop in, only to be left with two choices : keep going and risk ending impaled on a sword, or abruptly alter her course and go back in the kitchen. It was not just Pete who had benefited from the mayhem, his fellow ruffian had as well.

-“Break that arrow,” said Pete, “and then knees to the ground with hands clasped behind your head. Or she dies. As for you, Rowen, you will give me that dagger by holding the blade rather than the handle.” He looked at the mountain kite. “Or rather, give it to him,” he gestured to the one wielding the sword, “I will have my prize myself…”

Mayen complied only after seeking his father’s opinion on the matter, a simple nod. There was no helping it, though in the very least he could argue within him he was obeying his father rather than them. Although the cracking sound was not the sickening one of bones, there was a resemblance which made it unpleasant to the ears.

-“I do not recall giving you my name.” Rowen brought the steelaïn dagger with eyes fixed upon the beautiful blade, which was dangerously sharp, making him nervous. “Who told you?”