Six Of Foxes (Six Foxes)

Silva

Silva followed Ken up the stairs. Stone steps after steep stone steps they climb under the illumination of flickering gas lamps. Silva looked at Ken carefully. The road is fast, but the steps are stiff. Why did he insist on riding alone? The reason for that was definitely not time, so who knew Ken had intended so from the start. Maybe he intends to hide certain information from the Reader. Or maybe he wants them all to guess.

    They stopped at every brothel, put ears in case there was a patrol. The prison was full of sounds and it was difficult not to jump whenever there were noises drifting down the stairs, the metallic clang of the open door. Silva was reminded of the frenzy in Raregate, the hand-changing bribe, the blood soiling sand, which seemed like another world when compared to this sterile place. The people of Barchen could clearly be relied upon to maintain order.

    On the way up the fourth set of stairs, the sounds and footsteps of the boots suddenly poured into the staircase. Silva and Ken hurriedly retreated to the third-floor brothel and slipped through the door leading to the cells. Inmates in the cell closest to them opened their mouths to scream. Silva quickly raised his hand and squeezed the airway shut. The inmate looked at Silva with glaring eyes while clawing at his neck. Silva slowed down the prisoner's pulse, edging the man while releasing pressure on his windpipe, eventually allowing him to breathe. They want him to shut up, not die.

    The sound grew louder as the guards descended the stairs, the Barchen language bursting against the wall. Silva held his breath while watching the door, his hands ready. Ken was unarmed, but he took the horses to fight, waiting to see if the door would open. However, the guards continued through the embroidery, descending to the following floor.

    As the sound of the middle whistled, Ken gestured to Silva, then they slipped behind the door and closed it slowly behind. They then continued up.

    The clang seven times sounded upon their arrival on the top floor. An hour had passed since they made the prisoners' hymen in the temporary holding cell. They had 45 minutes to study the high-security cells, meet back at the brothels, and descend into the basement. Ken waved to Silva to head to the left corridor, while he moved to the right.

    The door creaked loudly as Silva stepped inside. The lanterns are far apart here and the shadows between them are so dense that they seem to drown. Silva said he should be grateful to be protected in the dark, but he could not deny that the atmosphere was haunted. Let alone the cells here are other, solid steel doors instead of iron bars. The monitoring gap is fixed at eye level in each door. More precisely, in line with the eyes of the Barchen people. Silva is tall, but he still needs to tiptoe to peek inside.

    Most inmates were sleeping or resting, curled up in a corner or on their backs while closing their eyes with their arms to ward off the dim light coming through the grille. The others sat leaning against the wall while staring blankly. Sometimes Silva finds that there is a pacing so he has to get away quickly. None of them are Kuwei.

    "Ajor?" one of them called him in the language of Barchen. Silva ignored the inmates and the road continued, his heart pounding.

    What if Erikson was really in this cell over here? Silva knows the odds are small, but... Silva was able to kill the scientist in his cell, put him to a deep sleep without any pain, and simply stopped his heart. Silva will tell Ken that he did not find the man. And what if Ken finds Erikson? Silva may have to wait until they exit the Royalemerald to find a solution, but he could at least rely on Reader to help. How awkward and uneasy the deal was for both of them.

    However, while Silva walked down the corridor, the small hope that the scientist was here withered unceremoniously. A row of cells again, Silva thought, then returned to the basement without success. Only, when entering the corridor it was shorter than the others. At the location that should be occupied by the cells, there was precisely a steel door, a bright light radiating from underneath.

    Anxiety roared Silva as he approached, but he forced himself to push the door open. He must narrow his eyes so as not to be confused. The light was shuffling - as bright as sunlight but not emitting warmth - and Silva could not find the source. He heard a rustling sound as the door moved shut behind him. At the last moment, Silva was still able to turn and grip the door. His premonition said that this door needed a key to be opened from the inside. He looked around to find anything that could be used as a prop, until finally he had to tear all five of his pants and stuff the cloth into the keyhole.

    This place seems strange. The walls, floor, and ceiling are pure white that is painful to see. Half of one of the walls is made of perfectly smooth glass panels. Artificial Fabricator. Just like the glass cage surrounding the various brutal weapons that he saw earlier. There is no artisan Barchen who is able to make this shiny surface. It was Knoulbar's devotion that was used to create this glass, Silva was convinced. Indeed there are wild Knoulbar who do not serve any country and who might consider renting services to the government of Barchen. Will they survive after completing the project? It is more likely that Barchen made use of slave labor.

    He squinted his eyes behind the first window. The cells are as white as a corridor and are illuminated by the same unsourced bright light. The room was empty and had no furniture at all-no benches, no basins, no buckets. The only thing that tore through the stretch of white was a drainage hole in the middle of the floor, which was surrounded by reddish stains.

    Silva continued to the following cell. The cell is identical and as empty as the first cell, so is the cell that follows again, and the next. However, here, something was caught by his eyes, a piece of coin lying next to a drainage-no hole, not a cloth, a button. The tiny silver studs were inlaid in the shape of wings, the symbol of the Storm Calling Knoulbar. Silva felt his arms goosebumps. Were these cells assembled by Knoulbar slaves for Knoulbar's prisoners? Are glass, walls, and floors made to withstand fabricator manipulation? This room contains no metal at all. No plumbing, no pipes to drain water that can be misused by Wave Braziers. In addition, Silva suspected that the glass he peeped on looked like a mirror from the inside so that a Heart Furniture inside the cell would not be able to see the target. These cells are designed to confine Knoulbar. Designed to lock him up.

    Silva turned around at lightning speed. Erikson is not here and Silva wants to get out of this place right now. He snatched the cloth from the keyhole and came out in a frenzy, even stopping to make sure that the door was already closed behind him. The corridor consisting of iron cells seemed to darken after he left the room brightly, as a result Silva stumbled as he ran towards his arrival. Drainage hole. Stains around him. Was Knoulbar tortured in there? Being told to confess to a crime against the people?

    He had already studied the people of Barchen-their leaders, their language. He had even dreamed of entering the Royalemerald as a spy exactly like this, dreaming of invading the heart of a country he hated so much. But now, after being here, he only wanted to take a thousand steps. He has grown accustomed to Moontown, with the adventures that accompany his engagement with Geak, with his life at Cherry Blossom. But even there, has he ever felt safe? In a city where you can't walk the streets without fear? I want to go home. His longing hit him hard, making his body sore. I want to go home to Juwel.

    Ghantaclock began to urinate, marking the interval of three-quarters of an hour. Silva's late. However, he forced himself to slow down before opening the door to the staircase. There was nobody there, including Ken. He looked across the corridor to see if Ken was coming. There was nothing - only iron doors, dark shadows, no sign of Ken's existence.

    Silva waited, not knowing what to do. They were supposed to meet at the brothels 15 minutes before an hour had passed. What if Ken's in trouble? Silva hesitated, then entered the corridor that Ken was supposed to be searching for. Silva darted through the cells, down the corridor winding back and forth, but Ken did not see the trunk of his nose.

    Enough, thought Silva arriving at the end of the second corridor. Either Ken had left him and was already downstairs with the others, or the young man had been caught and dragged somewhere. Clearly, Silva had to head to the combustion furnace. Once he met the others, they could decide what to do.

    He drove along the corridor and opened the door of the staircase. Two guards stood while chatting on the stairs. In a flash, they stared at Silva as they gawked.

    "Sten!" one of the men shouted in the Barchen language, ordering Silva to stop while they rushed to grab the weapon. Silva raised both his hands, his fingers clenched, and noticed the two guards collapsing backwards. One fell into the bordes, but his partner rolled up the stairs, his rifle firing, launching a whizzing bullet as it bounced against the stone wall, the sound echoed throughout the household. Ken's gonna kill him. He's gonna kill Ken.

    Silva soared past the bodies of the two guards, down the floor, two floors. On the third floor brothel, the door opened abruptly as a guard darted into the staircase. Silva twisted his hand into the air and broke the guard's neck, with a loud crackle. Silva had already descended to the next level before the body of the guard hit the floor.

    That's when Ghantaclock started ringing. Not a constant ticking to signify the clock, but rather a loud ringing, high screeching-hide alarm warning.