The King's Playground - A Vast World

Chapter 1: Home, bitter home - Part 3

Abel had immediately taken to he heights when he reached the core of the city. Crossbow on his back, he had taken to escalate the minaret of the 7th temple of the city: the burj dhahabiin. It was the tallest one of the 9 temples scattered around, and it was extremely close to the Palace.

The jump was not that hard, but it was the landing that could get easily chaotic. He had to aim well, because if he landed on the cupola, he would probably break through it, but if he landed to low, he would break his legs on the princess's grand balcony. Not a good way to reunite with old friends, that was for sure. No, Abel had to grab the canopy of the balcony. This thick tissue only extended on half the surface of the balcony, and draped down from the cord it was draped over. It looked like curtains, attached onto themselves. This would be what would cut Abel's fall, but he had to lad exactly on the rope, and catch it with his upper body and arms, or else he would fly straight to a painful death.

On the thin stone step, he backed up until his left foot met the air. For a second and a half, the time it took to rise his leg behind him, he was balanced on his right leg on a step as large as his boot. And when he brought his left leg forward, he launched and ran along what seemed to be the edge of the world. His right foot took the last step and his body extended. His limbs stretched before him, reaching for the coming edge, like a feline with claws drown out to grab onto their objective. His shape tipped from straight to curved, taking the form of the fall, a perfect curve of a spay of the arrow shot in the night sky by the skilled bowman.

Jut like the metaphorical arrow, Abel reached his target perfectly, he grabbed the robe at the exact spot he has locked his eyes on, on the middle, and the rope creaked and bend down before bouncing back up and almost shooting Abel up again. He kept his hold on the rope, and landed with his back on the canopy.

He winced, persuaded that he had just broke the crossbow in million pieces, but thankfully it was complete. His quiver, however, had almost emptied itself on the balcony, but then again, Abel's luck had all his bolts flow down on the canopy around him. One of them was poking at his thigh, and reminded Abel that, yes, he was alive and also reminded him he could breathe before passing out on the spot. He breathed out, and raised himself wobbly on his elbows, bringing a hand to his adrenaline-rushed heart. He hadn't done this in a while.

He picked his bolts and let himself down the canopy onto the balcony. He checked his equipment once again, brushed himself off, and turned around towards the princess's room. He raised his head and stopped dead in his tracks, blocked by a blade poking at his neck. He crossed the eyes of his opponent, and their eyes opened widely in realization. Abel used this second as an opportunity to pull his long battle knife and deviate the sword to the side. Then, his guard closed again and he moved forward, grabbing the opponent's collard and bringing the knife to their throat.

"You're not one of them, are you?"

A feminine voice broke the sound of metal cutting through the air, and Abel laughed, clear and true.

"It's a wonder you survived all those attacks, your Highness!" He said.

"I let you attack me," said the woman. "I knew it was you, of course."

"Of course."

"Of course," she repeated. "Now, let me go, would you? This is not how you treat a damsel in distress."

"That blade of yours shows a very distressed lady..." deadpanned Abel.

"Speaking of which, I should get it sharpened. It would prevent your stupid jokes!"

Abel let go of her silk robe and she straightened it. The woman looked furious, but as soon as she crossed Abel's smiling eyes with her anger filled ones, she broke in laughter, half relieved and half nervous. He laughed too, a small and fond chuckle. Her hair was down, and uncovered, and had been cut to her chin. She was wearing chainmail under the flowing robe she innocently presented as her nightgown. Abel gave her a questioning look, and she tucked her hair behind her ears, uneasy.