Chapter VIII | Arrabal Walls | Part IV

Madrid

3,868 years since initial death
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They had seen enough.

It was useless to keep running, they had to find someplace safe to recover. But with the entire city erupting in violent destruction; escape seemed impossible. For now, they just had to leave the main square. This courtyard would be the death of them if they stayed here any longer.

Therefore, they struggled to leave the courtyard. Unable to run from exhaustion and injury, they could only stumble together until they found themselves in a narrow alleyway far from the riots. At that point, Violet collapsed to the ground, unable to stay conscious any longer from exhaustion. It was a miracle she could run this far.

As for Milton, he sat down beside her, holding her close as he breathed carefully. He was sure he had caught the plague again, since it was possible to become infected twice. But that didn't bother him. They were surviving together, it's the only thing that mattered to him.

After what felt like hours, Violet had finally regained consciousness. He comforted her, waiting to see if she had the strength to speak. Shortly after, she sighed, and their conversation began.

"You must despise me for what I have done." She spoke softly, trying not to shed a tear in the process. "If I had known this would happen, I would have swallowed the pain and told you everything."

Milton calmed her down by placing a hand over the side of her face. "I don't care about the plague anymore, Violet. It's you I care for. More importantly, I want to know what you're hiding from me. You ripped a man's throat apart with nothing but a hand, and you terrified the others into running away. How?"

"I cannot tell you." She responded slowly, her voice was cracking. "You scare me. This world scares me. My secrets have led loved ones to nothing but suffering. I have lost more than you could possibly imagine, and it was all because of the secrets I swore never to reveal again."

"Nothing you say can shock me. But I deserve to know the truth." Milton had his suspicions now that she's mentioned this, but he set it aside as he listened to her response.

"I was about to abandon you." Violet kept her head down, avoiding eye-contact. "By the time I realized a flea had bit me, the symptoms already showed. I wanted to spare you the plague again, and so I planned to leave the city alone. The truth is, I know this illness cannot kill-" 

He interrupted her, noticing how she tried to sneakily change the subject. "That's not what I asked for. I want to know who you really are, Awilix." 

Her pupils dashed around momentarily, and her breath came to a sudden stop. That had done it. "You don't get to speak that name."

"And I refuse to listen to anymore of your lies."

"Milton, I will not tolerate this discussion." Her tone changed, she looked vexed. "I've swore to never speak of this matter."

"Who did you swear it to? Tadeas?" He mocked her. He wanted a confession out of her. 

The moment she gritted her teeth, a few screams dissolved their confrontation. The fires were continuing to spread further, and their hiding spot was compromised. They couldn't stay here any longer. But Milton needed answers, and he's determined to get them in due time. 

"Me and you are going to remain close together, and we will escape this city. After that is accomplished, we are going to have a very long conversation. Do you understand me?"

It took a few seconds for her to finally nod her head, sticking close to him. Milton continued. "We shall scale the Walls of Arrabal first, towards the east. From there, I have an idea on how we can reach the outer Christian Walls."

He lifted her up on her feet, holding her firmly. "Since you tend to shroud your past in mystery, I'll assume you're unfamiliar with scaling structures and leaping across the rooftops. Entry through the front gates is impossible, so we must look above and gain the higher ground."

A glimpse of a smirk appeared on her face, lasting the duration of a single heartbeat. "You'd be surprised at what I'm capable of. It's you I worry for if you cannot keep up."

This only raised his suspicions of her higher. He's seen this type of confidence before, followed by the right words. Some of it even reminded him of himself. 

Her wounds have already healed, and it appears that she's ready for what's to come. Both her strength and stamina returned. He's sure of it now, but this isn't the time to make the proper assumption. That can come later.

The recently built Walls of Arrabal served as an inner layer dividing the city amongst protests and turmoil. It prevented the entrance and escape of infected civilians. However, it didn't seem to matter here. People on both sides of the wall were infected, causing riots to spread throughout the entire city.

A small barracks was situated at the wall, with a ladder inside leading to the top of it. Because all the guards were distracted by the riots at the entrance, the barracks was fortunately empty. It allowed Milton and Violet to sneak inside and climb to the top without facing trouble.

But only one issue remained. Upon reaching the top, they realized there was no other way to make it down safely. It seemed even guards were becoming infected, resorting to every alternate route across the wall being taken down. The closest rooftop was still around fifteen meters below the wall.

Falling that distance atop a hard solid rooftop covered in tiles and bricks wasn't comfortable. There was even a chance at death if the landing didn't stick. Milton was quick to find a solution however. The walls were filled with military supplies, including a box of rope he could easily find.

Tying it around one of the crenels in the wall, he tightly formed a double knot. "You promised me my surprise, show me how agile you really are."

Violet walked over and grabbed the rope. Leaning over the side of the wall, she emitted a great level of pride and confidence. "With pleasure." She looked down without any fear in her eyes, carefully positioning herself over the wall. 

Rather than rappelling slowly, she hurled herself over the edge with the rope clenched in hand. Her body twisted as her hands loosened, causing her to decline rapidly. Before impact was made, her grip was tightened and she swung into the wall, her feet ready to absorb the collision. Finally, she released herself from the rope and landed atop the rooftop with her knees bent. 

Milton observed all of it with a frown and a glare. A woman of unknown origins, possessing a godlike sense of self-confidence, the vigor of a ruthless barbarian, and the agility of a feline always landing on her feet. I see you for who you truly are, Violet.

His thoughts were interrupted by the shouting of a nearby guard. Then, another one approached. He was spotted. 

Milton was prepared. Setting his staff down, he snatched a bow from the nearest table and stood beside a mounted quiver of arrows. The guards on the other hand were armed with crossbows, trained for Milton's forehead.

Crossbows would typically beat a bow in countless situations. But when the archer is an Immortal who has mastered marksmanship over the course of nearly four thousand years, this wasn't even a challenge. He already knew what to do in this fight. He could still remember the very words he used to teach her. If anything, he would do this for her.

Steady.

Raise your elbow higher.

Breathe in.

Never hesitate.

He fired the arrow before any of the guards could attack. It was a perfect strike, instantly paralyzing a soldier in the knee. His archery was beyond perfect, it already became inhuman.

His reflexes also improved as he ducked right before a crossbow bolt could strike him. Arrow after arrow, each guard was struck with excellent precision. However, not a single one of them had died. He never aimed for their heads. There was no use in killing anymore. Incapacitating them might have also been a bit too far, but in life and death situations, it had to be done.

Dropping his bow, he ran, but not to the wall. Rather, he had a new idea in mind.

He stood underneath a tarp, grabbing anything that was of use from the tables ahead. Perhaps one blessing and advantage of being immortal is the knowledge you accumulate over the years. It explains how he's able to assemble a certain tool so quickly and efficiently while under pressure.

A crossbow. A rope. A metallic hook. It was all coming together nicely. He's seen the Ancient Romans use this once, and it may be incredibly helpful in his escape.

Once it's finished, he ran back to the wall and checked on Violet. She was waiting for him below. 

"Violet!" Milton screamed down to her. "Catch!"

"What?!" Violet was given nearly no time to react when Milton tossed his crossbow over the wall. He watched it plummet into her hands, knocking her back from its weight. But she caught it, that's what mattered.

He grabbed his staff and ensured the rope was tightly attached to the wall's crenel. Placing a foot atop the crenels, he was ready to take the dive and rappel down. With his free hand, he held the rope. However, his ears quickly caught the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. They accelerated, causing him to turn around.

Of all the things he was expecting, a halberd was not one of them. A Spaniard kept his distance, using the long reach of his bladed weapon to stab Milton in the abdomen. 

Milton lost his balance and tumbled over the edge. Both the rope and his staff fell from his grasp and plummeted beside him. The polluted sky invaded his entire vision, watching the smoke pillars rise higher. He could hear a scream below him, belonging to Violet.

Then came the sudden impact. The brick rooftop shattered underneath his weight. He couldn't tell what hurt more, the stab wound, or the fall? But he was still alive, barely. Hanging onto life by a thread, he rolled dangerously close to the edge of the roof. He could briefly watch something bounce next to him before falling another level towards the ground.

His eyes widened upon noticing his staff land on the street below. Milton uselessly reached out with a hand high above the scene. There wasn't a way to safely climb down to retrieve it, nor could he do anything with the massive injury he's sustained.

"Rio!" He shouted its name as he felt Violet tug him. A tear escaped his eye, his voice continuing to call his staff to no avail. His speech began to crack from the pain. and his hand limped downwards over the roof's edge. Even when he felt his wife pulling him up, his gaze never left his trusted companion. 

"Milton, you're bleeding!" She placed a hand over his wound. Milton was propped up, slouching against her lap. He closed his eyes, feeling Violet's hands hold him. But a sudden surge of anguish caused him to yell, and his vision returned. Pressure was applied to his puncture, and a beige cloth was wrapped around his waist. 

He attempted to stand amidst the pain. Another jolt struck him, but he fought it back. Through sheer anger and determination, he rolled over and held himself with his knee. Violet told him to stop, but he didn't care. A few groans slipped through his lips, and with one massive effort, he stood up and immediately struggled to maintain his balance. 

Violet supported him, and he could now see she was only down to wearing a shirt. She had removed her dress to wrap it around him. "What are you doing? Milton, you can't possibly continue like this!" 

He ignored her, turning his head towards the ground once more. Rio was still there, resting on the cobble path. 

"No more wasting time." He grabbed Violet's arm. "We're making our escape now, once and for all."

His body moved forward, but his legs denied him. He stumbled, only for his wife to catch him yet again. Every step shattered his soul and drained his energy. The beating of his heart accelerated, as did the speed of his recovery. The more he pushed onwards, the easier it became. 

As his eyes scanned the horizon, he could see the final barricade. Only one more wall stood in between them and their freedom. This was not the time to quit or give up hope because of one stab wound. 

Reaching for the crossbow that Violet had previously dropped, he handed it back to her. Keeping his chin raised and his eyebrows narrowed, he continued to walk as his discomfort dwindled away.

All the while, Rio sustained his undying wrath that fueled him. 

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Historical Notes:

The Walls del Arrabal were built as an expansion to the Christian Walls that surround the city. However, the Walls del Arrabal no longer exists today as there are no more remaining traces of it. It leaves many to doubt its original existence or when it was even constructed.

Crossbows were believed to be invented in around 650 BCE by the Chinese. Crossbow locks made of bronze were discovered to originate from that time period. The first mention of a crossbow comes in between 500 - 300 BCE, in which a 'giant crossbow' is described. Crossbows were also mentioned in Sun Tzu's The Art of War at the time.

Meanwhile, a variant of the crossbow was invented at a similar time in Greece during the Peloponnesian War. The Greek crossbow design is what became commonly used throughout history and was only improved upon as time progressed forward.

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