Time Slip

Hansen Bronner was sweating. And not an early morning sunshine sweat, oh no. Nor a light walk around town sweat, with a slight dewy shine on the face. This was midday, summer equinox, stuck in a goddamn warehouse with no air flow, sweat. He was practically soaked, moisture trickling down his head and pooling in dark stains on his back. Disgusted, he kept fanning himself with his hat to little effect, and he leaned back on the large, wooden crate behind him. He huffed an irritated sigh. “I swear, this is the last time I deal with this. The business is beneath me. No matter the pay, I’m sick of it.” He grumbled to himself, eyes darting around to make sure he was, in fact, still alone. The people they sent for the drops were always so damn...slippery. One minute there, next minute gone. Different heights, races, ages, even women at times, a large variety of folk met up with him to do the exchange, to be sure. But one thing was always the same with these people. Their strangeness. An almost burning hunger in their voice they could never quite mask, which sent shivers down his spine. Though, shivers would be a welcome change on a day like today. Bronner was considering sitting on the crate for a rest, when he noticed a slight change in the air. The unbearable heat suddenly had a slight chill and his arms responded with goosebumps. He stood up straighter, nodding brusquely at the newcomer. This one was tall and strongly built, but had hidden their face and figure with a large hooded robe. Only their dark outline could be seen. f*****g weird, that’s all I’m saying, Bronner thought, then shuddered.  “About time. As promised, it’s one you like. So that’ll be double the usual.” His gruff voice rang out in the dim alcove of the room. Surrounded by ceiling high shelves, Bronner felt penned in like an animal. The warehouse was mostly empty also, which added to the eeriness he felt creeping over him. It was necessary though, a little used location like this was perfect for their business.  There was a dull thud, followed by the whisking sound of a coin bag sliding across the stone floor. It stopped directly at Bronner’s large boots, and he bent eagerly. The business was unsettling and dirty, but the coin purses were always heavy as could be. Before he had stood up fully again, there was a sudden sharp feeling of pain in his arm and Bronner yelled in shock. An electric shock jolted up his entire frame, freezing him in agony while the coin bag was whisked away by a nasty looking dagger, stealing it from his hands and sticking it fast in the crate behind him. He barely had time to notice his blood drip to the floor, when all hell broke loose. In the dark of the warehouse, it would normally have been hard to distinguish anything. However, daggers the length of a man’s forearm glowed with fierce blue light, striking out rapidly with machine like precision and lighting up the attacker and surroundings. Runes and sigils were tattooed across the sides of the mans skull, and as each dagger was drawn and raised to throw, they seemed to come alive. They morphed and emerged from the man’s skin, becoming a part of the dagger and imbuing them with their power before launching at Bronner and the dark figure.  The Capital Guards had found them. The Capital Guard was an elite force, a small group of only the most powerful and talented, acting as protectors and keepers of the law. And no other Capital Guard was as tall, broad, and strongly made as Ramsey of House Glenn. Ramsey of House Glenn was an unmistakable figure, not only because of his house sigil emblazoned brightly on both arms, but simply by size alone. His leap from the upper most shelf brought him flying down toward them, daggers blazing all the while, and his massive frame somehow landed with the soft agility of a wild cat. Bronner, clutching his injured arm, whirled around toward the coin purse. He could care less what happened to the mysterious hooded whoever. His money and him needed to get out and get out fast. But, it wasn’t meant to be.  With a yelp, his feet were knocked out from underneath him and his face slammed into the cool, dusty floor with a sickening crunch. A puddle of blood gushed from his shattered nose, and he wailed in pain. “Well, Bronner, but what seems to be the problem? You’re usually so graceful.” Bronner felt his hands yanked behind his back and he was lashed up like a pig set for the market before he could even think of an evil enough insult to scream at his captor. The Guard grabbed his hair and pulled back hard to make him look in his eyes. Dark hair fell to the man’s shoulders and startling purple eyes stared back at Bronner who was now gaping like a fish out of water. He had never heard of Zayn of House Gizal coming this far from the Capital. Zayn broke Bronner’s thoughts with another shake and pulled his head back even farther. Any more and his head would touch his feet that were tied to his hands. He could hear the battle raging further away from him, his associate having tried to flee had been caught up defending and counter attacking. He seemed to have some tricks of his own, and somehow hadn’t died yet.   “Don’t worry about your friend.” The Guard spoke menacingly above him. “Give me the key to the crate, or I’ll begin to break more than just your nose you disgusting...” Zayn’s threat trailed off to a confused pause.  He was looking behind Bronner toward the crate. “What did you do?” He growled. Bronner joined him in looking as best as he could from his position, and they both stared at the crate without speaking a moment. It was no longer closed and sealed with a lock. The hinges were loose, and one side was wide open. Blue singes had left a mark where apparently, Ramsey had struck the box open. “Shit.” Zayn dropped Bronner like a sack of rocks and looked frantically around. There. In the distance, where Ramsey and the hooded one were fighting, the faint outline of a retreating figure could be seen. The escaped girl was sprinting straight into the fray. Zayn took off running. “Ramsey!” He yelled toward his partner as he ran, but his voice was swallowed by the crackling electricity of magical flames bursting through the air. Which the crate escapee was headed straight toward.  Zayn was gaining on her when the fight took a turn. With a surge of magical energy, Ramsey was slammed into a wall, an explosion of dust and brick and he collapsed to the ground and was buried by debris. The attacker could see their prize had escaped, a second powerful Guard was on the way, and a decision needed to be made. With a quick motion of hands, light came crashing down. The girl raised her arms in a defensive motion, and then, nothing but white enveloped the entire warehouse.  Zayn was knocked to the ground, briefly overcome with a feeling of nausea. He forced himself to one knee, then stumbled forward to where the girl had been struck. He was scared of what he might find. A few more steps, and he reached her. Thankfully, he didn’t find ashes. The girl was collapsed, but whole.  His partner needed to be unearthed, the rescued girl needed to be carried, and he was the only one to do it. “Typical.” Zayn sighed.