It was a beautiful aesthetic, the visual splendor of seeing Livius Reid hung by a noose.
But The Thief took very little time to enjoy himself or that fact, his winded-body deprived of sleep. He felt himself more resembling of a sleepwalker than that of an able-minded man. Samuel Syi gave all the orders, instructing how to do this and how to do that. He was also the one to tie one noose onto another and do the same with a third. The wall was only about thirty-or-so feet, and thereby, all they needed was three of the four nooses. A good thing too, as Copé doubted any of them would want to use the noose that had severed the knight's head only moments earlier.
Samuel Syi and Marc Sero brought themselves up the wall. Marc holding onto the rope as he climbed. Neither of them struggled or seemed to have any discomfort whatsoever. Secrat soon began his climb up the wall as well. He had done it once before, a time ago that felt like an eternity-and-a-half and did it well. But this time was more difficult. His injured hand made it difficult to form a grip around the ridges, but he continued on. By the time Samuel and Marc finished muscling their way up, Secrat was about halfway. The adrenaline coursing through him wasn't enough to alleviate the absolute wore and fatigue, but soon, he reached the top of the wall, taking the hand of
Samuel, who helped him making it to a seated position.
The Statue was the biggest issue of the whole heist. The thought of leaving it likely crossed the mind of many of them. It certainly had crossed Secrat's mind. But they couldn't. The Statue was the most valuable item. And to surrender it would be too large a disappointment.
Sero shared the rope with Secrat and Samuel. Their tug-of-war with gravity began soon after, them trying their hand at ascending the Statue and gold-bars. The Statue itself was three-hundred pounds, give or take, a heavy son of a bitch, and the gold would stack on about forty or so. The ropes were in no danger of breaking, however. Having carried similarly large men to their death.
It wasn't as heavy as Copé anticipated. It raised off from the ground easy enough, three foot bled to four, from which then, went to five. The Thief felt the burn of the rope on his hands, or his hand, more-so, as his injured hand offered little assist. Seven feet or so and Copé could feel the sweat on his brow but ignored it. It'd be a very long way from there, but he knew they'd muscle through.
After this, it'd be about lifting Brutus Ess, who watched down below them, having to resist the urge to cheer them on with helpful phrases like “Hurry up, assholes!” and the works.
Taison and Lukas Lewis stood beside the wagon. Lewis twirled a sai around in his hand nervously, both of them were on lookout for any knights.
Not that Taison would be any help against them.
Copé continued yanking up at the rope with heavy might. He doubted his assistance was that greatly appreciated, but they were about fifteen feet up the wall now. About halfway. Samuel and Marc did the heavy-lifting, grunting and tugging like a whore from The Hollow off toward Jalint.
When the gold-bars began making their way up to them. As directed by Samuel, Secrat unfastened them from the noose and threw them, one by one, over the other-side, into the Unprotected Wilderness. It lightened the lift, and in that, Copé made no stride returning to assist them.
His eyes went over to Lewis and Taison again. It'd only have been an instant, had he not caught sight of a knight. The night made it so very difficult to make out. All he vaguely saw were the figures and what the moon led view to.
The cavalryman walked toward them. Lewis took sight of him and did a turnaround, glancing over like he was looking for another Flux member to assist him. But none would. Brutus was in no condition, nor was Taison. He was on his own and soon realized as much.
The knight-shaped figure had his weapon unsheathed, he wasted little time to swing his blade. Lewis was fast at reacting, leaping back away from the sword. All Lewis had in his hands was a small sai.
Thieves were trained to make use of weapons like knives and such, and thereby, he wasn't as too much of a disadvantage. Lukas made a jab forward, though, only drove it into the man's armor. It was dark and finding areas of flesh would be an issue. The man drove a forearm fourth, right to Lewis' temple, sending him spiraling in a daze.
“Secrat, help!” Samuel hollered out, as at last, the Statue came in armreach. Copé did so, grabbing an arm of the statue and lifting, though, he looked on at Lukas battling the knight.
The knight drove a sabaton to the knee of Lewis, bringing him off from his feet. Lewis held his leg in dismay.
His adversary was going for the kill; sword readied. The knight brought his sword down, his intentions clearly sighted at the back of Lukas' neck. But instead, he left a tackle from behind by Taison. The round-faced thief wrapped his uninjured arm around the knight's neck, stuck on him like a leech. The knight stammered at first, and fell to one-knee, as Taison continued his hold. Soon, the knight fought back to his feet, the much-larger Taison still him much in his clutches.
Secrat noticed Lukas Lewis' outline as well, Lewis returning to a vertical base. He gripped the sai in his hands, and upon realizing the situation, ran toward the knight. With the sai, Lukas went for a jab, but simultaneous to that, Copé watched the knight drive an elbow to the broken arm of Taison, forcing him to relent his hold.
The knight moved. And the sai drove into the throat of Taison. Lukas Lewis flinched. Leaving the weapon wedged into his throat.
The knight swung his sword from behind Lukas, who anticipated it, ducking. A surprised Taison found himself decapitated. Lewis reacted fast, tackling the arm of the knight and prying the sword off of him.
Secrat felt a smile forming on his face with every action and reaction. A smile of the tides finally turning in his favor.
Lukas Lewis brought the sword off from the ground and whipped it across the knight's neck. It didn't decapitate him. It wasn't as satisfactory as that. It killed him though. Digging about halfway through his neck, Lewis released it from his clutches before conclusion and watched as the knight fell to his death.
His death, by Lukas Lewis' hand.
They finished tossing the Statue of Livius Reid outside the city walls and it fell with a thud. They began next at lifting Brutus Ess, who was a much, much easier task.
By the time they finished, Lukas Lewis started his climb up the wall as well. Copé's smile still hadn't left his face, and he didn't know why he felt such joyousness about the chubby boy's death. But he did. He absolutely did. As Lewis joined them, they had already started lowering Brutus slowly down the wall. They couldn't simply drop him like they did the Statue and gold-bars.
“Will Taison be able to tie the rope around his waist by himself?” Samuel asked, his eyes watching Brutus descend.
“Taison's dead,” Lukas Lewis said plainly.
Syi jolted a moment, and Brutus dropped a great-deal faster for a second as a result. Marc Sero carried an unenthused intrigue, while Secrat tried his best at seeming downright surprised. “What do you mean? What happened!?” Samuel asked loudly, either to emphasize shock or because he had to contend with his teeth being clamped down as they lowered Brutus with the noose.
“A knight showed up, I fought him off, but not before he took a stab to Taison.” Lukas answered, an in-shock lack of emotion in his voice.
“It looked like more than a stab to me,” Copé answered. He made for certain not to be smiling as he spoke, but it was difficult. “Did you happen to bring the sai's up with you?”
Lukas shook his head.
“No matter,” Samuel said. “If one showed up, it's only a matter of time before the rest of the nest comes knocking.” Syi began his climb down, before adding, “It's time we make our leave from this god forsaken hell-hole.”
Copé saw Marc Sero smile in agreement before making his climb down as well. Lukas Lewis made no quick movements, his face empty and broken, he stared off from into the distance. Off at where Taison's corpse resided. Because of him.
Copé looked there as well. He could see the Sanchi Tower, standing high, but far into the distance, it glowed green, a beautiful image in spite of the circumstances.
Secrat Copé held optimism for the very first time in a long time, and as his eyes cast off to the sad Lukas Lewis, he grinned, punching his dearest friend on the shoulder and saying, “At least they didn't cut off your head, killer!”
The Red Flux & the Wunderkind THief
Chapter One (1 - 2 - 3)