The sudden and widespread attack reached the constabulary. The Pale Wraiths, flanked by similarly hooded figure, opened portals to summon creatures the constables could only described as demons. They had no identifiable features except for their lanky physique and their obsidian-colored, humanoid form. But what made them terrifying was not how the look; it was their simulacra behavior, and their disregard of fear and doubt.
The constables spewed out warnings, as they were taught to. That took precious time for them, giving time for the creatures to draw close enough to the constabulary where they bypassed the mages and constables, killing many in the process. The situation further deteriorated with the hooded figures flanking the Pale Wraiths beginning their own attack with the purple-colored fire that devastated part of the town. The fire was more devastating than the usual fire spell, straining the mage's barrier greatly.
The constables were forced into the building, where they were planning to fight for the last stand, knowing that they lost. However, inside the building, a hope came from a 'monster' they had in custody, one that was supposed to be an enemy to the people of Manarithia. He looked normal, even beautiful, when one could appreciate a reptilian person decorated with feathers.
He was inside his own prison cell, long free from his fetters, watching the trouble unfolding outside. He was drawn to the screams and the sound of explosions, and tried to see what was going on with the small window in his cell, which did not give a lot of impression. He was soon drawn to the trouble in the building when he heard screams out in the corridors, along with the abrupt silence and the noise of a blade hitting a flesh. He went to the other window on the heavy wooden door.
The smell of blood that filled his nose, and the sight of a heavily mangled corpse, told Sanatasi enough. He needed to escape his prison cell. But how? The cell was strong and tough, even if it wasn't reinforced by magick considering his low-risk status. The warden was killed and he could not reach his key.
"No other choice," said Sanatasi to himself. "It's either this or find myself trapped."
He concentrated, steadying his breath. He maintained the tempo, keeping himself focused and concentrated. He closed his eyes to feel the magick flowing into him. He pictured his master's training, especially his explanation on magick manipulation through magick reserves in the body, through the points of power, letting it swirl in the points around his abdomen, even if it was slightly different for a Dromedian.
Sanatasi then entered a stance as he maintained his breathing. He felt energy flowing within him. All he got to do was making sure it went out in a concentrated burst.
He then let out a cry, then kicked the door with all his might. The magick he molded within his body took shape into a sharp tip intended to break him out of the cell. He kicked the locked and its wooden surface out, leaving behind a splintered wood where the long was. With the lock gone, the door creaked opened by himself. Sanatasi quickly opened it and ran out of the small room like a Dromedian on a mission. He could not waste his time.
But no sooner than reaching the corridor leading into the constable’s offices, he immediately found himself in a dilemma. In front of him, bodies of both constables and unusual creatures littered the cramped building. Whatever order there was when Sanatasi saw it the first time was gone. Nearby, a whole group of the creatures surrounded surviving constables, who all fought back with whatever weapons or spells they had. The Dromedian could see the despair in their faces, knowing that it was the end of the line for them.
Sanatasi hated this. He hated the fact that he was easily moved by people in despair. While it was a reminder that he, despite looking like a cross between a lizard and a bird, was not a heartless animal, it also made him indecisive. He had a mission to help Thomas. He had no love towards the constables who saw him as nothing more than a monster, thinking that he was a beast by chaining him to the wall like one.
But at the same time, his long life had told him that their reason was anything but malice. It could still be the case, but five out of one, it was out of fear of the unknown. Sybarians and Dromedians were both unknown groups of beast people who suddenly appeared in their lives by literally tearing away their skins. That was a good intimidation tactic, but it made them less of a person and more of a monster to be dealt with. No beast people do something so disgusting as that. As a Dromedian, it went against everything Sanatasi was taught, in which one should appreciate the beauty of the feathers, regardless of how it turned out to be.
Those pitiful people were cowering in the corner, surrendering themselves to the creatures that would surely tear them apart like rags. Sanatasi did not enjoy seeing that, nor did he want to harbor the guilt of leaving a handful of strangers that he could help to their dooms. This was the same dilemma he faced when he was dealing with Thomas two years ago. The same reason why he got himself in trouble.
But Sanatasi was beyond that. He could hate himself all he wanted, but he was not a heartless monster. He wanted to help not out of his own interest, but because he knew it was right. Not out of a personal interest, but because it was the right thing to do.
“Fucking hell,” he said, before he ran towards the group of constables.
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He grabbed a nearby sword by the hilt. He ran towards the creatures and, with all his Dromedian might, made a wide slash that decapitated one of the featureless humanoids, hoping that his neck was also a vital point. He sighed in relief when its lifeless body fell.
“Cut their heads!” exclaimed Sanatasi. “Come on!"
The constables, reinvigorated, regained their hopes and immediately retaliated against the creatures. This time, however, Sanatasi assisted them. He threw his sword to one of the creatures, then used a nearby table to jump and kick the sword into the creature's throat. Landing on his feet, he kicked the dead creature away before turning his attention to another. This creature saw him as a bigger threat than the constables, so it turned its attention towards him.
"That's right," said Sanatasi. "I'm your dance partner for the day, shitheads."
His training with his master involved using his kicks as his weapons. He was once told by his master that his greatest assets in a fight were his legs, both because of the sharpness of his claws, and because of his leg strength as a beast person. His dewclaws, unique to Dromedians due to its lethality and versality, were the point of interest to his master, who believed that it made his kicks much more potent in fights, much like a hidden knife weapon hidden between the soles of a shoe.
But that was when facing a normal opponent. Against unknown creatures spawned from Vyrnian magick, though, Sanatasi needed to be careful. They were tough, and they were not weakened by fear. The only reason they were not as intimidating was that they could be killed.
Sanatasi was doubtful that he could maintain this, especially if he had to face the caster outside. Even from inside the constabulary, he could see pink-colored flashes of spells clashing with something else. Instead of thinking what's next, he chose to focus on getting everyone out from the death trap they found themselves in. He only hoped whoever is doing a battle outside knew what they were doing.
He and the other constables worked together to clear a path towards the door, keeping themselves close enough to have their backs touched one another. Magick bullets, some of which fire spells, flew in the air and reached the creatures, burning them, but at the same time, also started to burn the constabulary. The wooden furniture made the spread of fire faster.
“No turning back now,” said one of the constables. “Are we getting closer to the door yet?!”
Everyone looked at the big, double door. It was blocked by an increasing number of creatures that were intent to block their escape.
“Unless anyone knows how to cast a high-level, disintegrating spell, we are not getting through that door any time soon,” said Sanatasi.
“How about you?” asked one of the constables. “Got any good ideas?"
“The name’s Sanatasi.” His head glanced around, trying to find a good escape point. He immediately found one nearby: a window that ran from base to second floor.
“How sturdy is that window?” asked Sanatasi. “Without anti-magick reinforcements, I mean.”
“Sturdy,” replied one of the constables. “But it’ll break.”
“You’re not pulling my leg, aren’t you?”
“In this situation? I wouldn’t dare!”
“Sorry. Gotta ask.”
He wanted to lighten the mood a little, but he admitted to himself that it was a bad moment. The Dromedian only needed that information for him to charge his kick.
“Everyone, listen to me,” said Sanatasi. “Anyone with spells, cast and shoot your spells the moment the glass cracks. Any of you strong enough to throw heavy objects, throw them at the window. Don't stop.”
The constables nodded, with the spellcasters starting the incantation for their spells. Sanatasi controlled his breathing, increasing the condensed force of the kick he was going to perform. It would not be enough to break the stained glass, even without the magickal reinforcement.
However, he could crack it with a good kick, and he was going to prove it. Showcasing a Dromedian's agility and speed, Sanatasi rushed through to the window unopposed. He then performed a spear kick, one with enough force to rattle and cracked the stained glass. It was a signal for the spellcasters to shoot their spells, a pair of condensed magick bullets the size of apples. In comparison to what a wizard could cast, it was small, but it served their purpose.
The glass shattered immediately after the bullets hit them, crumbling under their own weights. It opened a big escape point for everyone still inside the constabulary, a chance everyone immediately took. Sanatasi led the escape outside, kicking away the creatures to give them an opening to reach the ports that was just behind the constabulary’s building.
Sanatasi immediately turned away from the constables once he was sure that they were safely near the ports. There was a gate near the constabulary that opened south, away from the town. Before he could go back to the fray, one of the constables stopped him.
“Hey!” he exclaimed. “You can’t go back! There are too many of those creatures! You won’t survive with kicks alone!”
“I know,” said Sanatasi. “But I have someone I have to protect. Don't mind me. Go and alert the neighboring towns. Send in reinforcements.”
Sanatasi turned away, but then contemplated saying something else. He turned back to the elven constable.
“Thank you for believing in me,” he said. “I know I am not exactly the friendliest-looking, but I don’t want to hurt anyone. I am not affiliated with those Sybarian invaders.”
“We're the one who should be sorry,” said the elf. “We’re sorry about your earlier treatment. We shouldn't make our own conclusions just because you look like a, uh...cockatrice?"
Sanatasi took offense to that.
"Excuse me?" he said with such deep, menacing voice, alongside croaking noises.
"A bird!" she retracted.
This time, Sanatasi simply sighed.
"Don't sweat it. I'm aware that's the only chimeric creature native to this area that looks like a mix of a bird and a lizard. But I am not a monster. I killed one of them. I know how they look like."
"O-okay," said the elf. "Noted."
Sanatasi let out a croaking chirp. "Good. Now, go and do what you're paid for."
“Promise us you’ll survive, Sanatasi. It would be a shame losing someone with such beautiful feathers.”
Sanatasi was rather flustered when the elf complimented his feathers. For a Dromedian, being complimented for his feathers was like being called beautiful or handsome if he belonged to other races.
"Heh. Thanks," he said. "You too."
All he could give the constable was a smile, or at least one that resembled it for a Dromedian, before he dashed back into the town, towards where the danger was. The confused constables were momentarily confused, only to be set to their task by a senior constable clapping his hands loudly.
"Right!" he said. "You heard what he said. We have a job to do!"
