-Stormfront, the Land of Blades-<br/><br/>“How could he do that?”<br/><br/>“What an outrage!”<br/><br/>Haley wanted to keep walking past the commotion, intending to draw as little attention to herself as she could, which wasn’t easy when she could pass as a real-life mummy. Not a few children had called her than recently. She wanted to keep walking, but her tagalong one the other hand…<br/><br/>“What’s going on over there?” Dorian pressed his face against the watch face, peering out as best he could from within his empty mirror-world.<br/><br/>“Nothing,” she said quickly.<br/><br/>“Seems like something.”<br/><br/>“It isn’t our business.”<br/><br/>“But I want to seeeeeeee…”<br/><br/>Haley groaned but slowed her stride and focused on the loudest voice among the crowd.<br/><br/>“…say again: By order of His Imperial Majesty, the Blade Emperor, all street fighting is abolished, effective immediately and lasting for all time!”<br/><br/>“He didn’t say that!” someone challenged.<br/><br/>Haley heard the unmistakable clank of steel armor and instinctively turned towards it. The crier looked to be from Swordrent, the capital of the Land of Blades, seat of the Blade Emperor. His guard stiffened and moved in around him as the crowd grew more and more irate.<br/><br/>“He promised us!” another shouted, swinging a fist. “He wouldn’t take away our fights!”<br/><br/>“It’s our culture!”<br/><br/>“He said he’s one of us!”<br/><br/>The Imperial announcer sneered. “The Blade Emperor is most certainly not one of you!” He practically spat the word ‘you’. “He is closer to a god than a mere peasant! And you will not stand there and openly defy his word!”<br/><br/>“You ain’t the Emperor!” A woman shouted. A frying pan, still sizzling with bacon was flung from the crowd. It sailed over the crier’s head but it made the soldiers draw lower their spears.<br/><br/>Haley snorted. “Told you we should keep moving.”<br/><br/>“Shouldn’t we do something?” Dorian glanced up and her bandaged face.<br/><br/>“What, fight soldiers?”<br/><br/>“Well…”<br/><br/>“Absolutely not. I’m in enough trouble. I don’t need Imperials chasing me.”<br/><br/>She could no longer hear the crier over the roar of the angry crowd, which had swelled to almost double the size it had been. Haley began trying to shove her way out, wishing to be as far away from the mob when…it all stopped. It seemed as if even the wind and the animals quieted for a single figure as he strolled through the rapidly parting crowd. Haley knew who it was before he even stepped up onto the podium: Jaramen Opheia, the Crosswind, one of the twelve Blade Lords.<br/><br/>“Of course,” she muttered to Dorian. “We’re in Stormfront. This is his city.”<br/><br/>Lord Jaramen surveyed the crowd, arms behind his back. His hair was long and pitch black and covered the right half of his face. It went well with the black armor he wore. “My fellow countrymen, I understand.” His voice seemed to whistle like a cool summer breeze. Soothing. Haley didn’t like it. “This…news comes as a shock to me as well, but…” his one visible eye settled on Haley “we must respect the words of our Emperor, yes? I am sure he did not make this decision without due thought. He did not claim that throne by making stupid decisions, no?” It was as much an observation as a dare: Challenge me, peasants, give me a reason to demonstrate why the call me the Crosswind.<br/><br/>“Go home. Go about your day. Give this some time to settle. We shall discuss it again when we have clearer heads.” Almost before even finishing his speech, he stepped down and disappeared into the crowd, which slowly began to disperse, much to the surprise of a bewildered imperial crier.<br/><br/>“Haley,” Dorian whispered. “Did he look right at us?”<br/><br/>“Yeah.”<br/><br/>“Why didn’t I like the way he did that?”<br/><br/>“I don’t know. I didn’t like it either.” She started moving, too. “But more importantly. Suddenly outlawing street fighting isn’t going to be taken peacefully, no matter how creepily soothing Jaramen Opheia is.”<br/><br/>“Why not?”<br/><br/>“It’s in these folks’ blood, Dorian. These people live to fight.” Sure enough, not two blocks down, two guys were already fistfighting while a crowd of onlookers cheered. “See?”<br/><br/>-Shortly thereafter -<br/><br/>Jaramen Opheia sat down at his desk harder than he wanted to, but he was in a hurry – and tired of pretending like he wasn’t. He brushed some papers off until he found a little black rectangle with a single button at the bottom. He pressed it and waited for the device to whirr to life.<br/><br/>“Yes?”<br/><br/>“I think I found her.”<br/><br/>“Who did you find?”<br/><br/>“Windborne Haley.”<br/><br/>“…Keep her in the city.”<br/><br/>-Back with Haley-<br/><br/>“You!”<br/><br/>Haley spun around, hands already resting on her holsters. “What?”<br/><br/>Four soldiers confronted her; two with spears and two with swords. One with a spear said, “Come with us.”<br/><br/>“Absolutely not.” Both revolvers were out. She two shots from the hip, one from each gun before leaping over the men. She had missed (firing from the hip was a stupid idea even if it did look pretty sweet) but hadn’t really been aiming to kill.<br/><br/>“We didn’t even do anything!” Dorian shouted back at the soldiers chasing them, who were somehow accumulating more.<br/><br/>“This time,” Haley corrected.<br/><br/>“Right.” Dorian sighed and held on for the ride. It wasn’t the first time they’d been chased through a city by soldiers, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.