The last thing that Caramella remembered was hitting a hard wall with her very hard head. After that, the next thing she was able to make sense of was the sensation of stumbling, being moved along on her own two feet, leaning on someone for guidance and support. But between point A and B, all she could recall was a blur of noise, lights, and a whole lot of shouting.
Whatever. At the moment, Caramella would have been satisfied if the world would just stop spinning, thankyouverymuch.
"Nnggh… What in the hell happened?" She tried to open her eyes, only to realize that they were already open. Her vision was filled with splotches that made the shadowy street even more impenetrable, and obscured the features of whoever she was leaning against.
"Shh!" A voice hissed beside her. "Keep your voice down."
Caramella squinted at the unwelcome intrusion beating at her ears and her aching head. "Hey there, Hay Hair." For some reason, she found this immensely funny at the moment, snickering a little despite the way it added to the throbbing of her skull.
The blonde woman supporting her scowled at the monicker. "It's Agnes,  Lieutenant  Agnes. Miss Caramel." The musketeer reminded her.
"Then you should remember that its… nngh… Ca-ra-mel-la." She pushed away from the Royal Guard Lieutenant, turning to place a hand against a nearby wall to steady herself. At that moment, Caramella felt someplace between violently dizzy, and urgently ready to throw up. Still, somehow, she managed to keep her insides on her insides. "And you didn't answer my question."
Agnes came to a stop beside her, casting a furtive glance back the way they had come, or at least Caramella thought it must have been the way they'd come, it wasn't too clear right now. The street they were on, it would have been a dingy little alleyway even in Aincrad's 50th Floor hub, was mostly bare of people, only a handful moving hurriedly or poking heads curiously from doors and windows. Now that she had a minute to get her bearings, she could hear something in the distance, pointed ears perking up as she listened for the far off sounds.
Shouting and not too distant bells ringing in the night. It reminded her a lot of York for some reason… Of York. Caramella's eyes widened as the shattered pieces started to fit themselves back together. A hand reached up to a spot of dampness near her temple, returning with a small amount of tacky red. Her head shot up, a motion that she immediately regretted as the world started to heave beneath her again. A steadying arm appeared before her and she took it gratefully.
"What… how?" So many questions not enough time. What the hell had happened!
"You were barely conscious when I reached you." Agnes said. "How much do you remember?"
"I…" Caramella hesitated as the memory came back to her. "Was an idiot." She muttered under her breath. Yep, letting herself get taken out like a noob by a surprise attack, not her finest moment. "What the hell happened after that?"
"We were attacked." Agnes explained, head on a swivel, especially scanning the clouding skies. "A kill team sent to clean up any witnesses. I suppose this was Janglers doing. We managed to get away in the confusion, thanks to the Germanian, but I lost track of miss Zerbst and the others."
"Damn." The Faerie Swordswoman cursed half at the recap, and half at the feeling of her own head. Like her skull was stuffed with cotton balls. She had to face it, she wasn't in any shape to fight. And it didn't matter how much of an ultimate badass Miss Musketeer was if the competition was seven trained Mages. "So what next? We go get help?"
"Agreed." Acting with a practiced motion, Agnes had drawn her pistol and was in the midst of reloading as she continued to speak. "We get back to the Palace as quickly as we can and alert Captain Hammond. He'll know what to do next. Can you move?" Agnes asked.
Leaning away from the wall, testing her own balance cautiously, Caramella nodded. "I wouldn't want to try flying," It would probably end up in a quick fall to her death. "But I should be able to stay on my feet. Thanks… for… asking…" She trailed off. That appeared to be the limit of the musketeer's concern for her well being.
'Whatever.' Caramella thought, doing her best not to sway too drunkenly as she followed after Agnes at a trot, hand tailing along the wall for support.
"We must make it back as quickly as possible." Agnes said. "If the Conspirators are moving so brazenly, it means that there mask has become more of a hindrance than an asset, it must be because they intend to launch their attack tonight." She grimaced. "Perhaps they already have."
That was enough to get Caramella's blood pumping. So this was the end game.
A group of men, a dozen in all, carrying buckets, wands, and ladders, ran past them in the opposite direction.
"They're heading to fight the fires that were started by Janglers and his men." Agnes explained for Caramella's benefit. "The Noble district is stonework construction, but the commoner quarters are mostly of wood and thatch, they'll go up like kindling if the fires are allowed to spread. -Tch-" She clicked her tongue. "And most of the Royal Guards have been tasked with Guarding the Gala."
"Wait, aren't there like tons of mages in this city?" Caramella wondered out loud. Tristain was supposed to have a stupidly large proportion of its population able to perform magic, so what gave?
"There is a world of difference between an aristocrat," Agnes said bitterly, "And the petty nobility. The low Nobles will be on on there way to help, but if this is arson, I imagine most will be pressed protecting their own homes and businesses. If this is allowed to grow, the cure will doubtless be worse than the poison. The aristocrats will see to their own interests and let the rest burn out, like they always do."
"That seems like a hell of a blunt way to put it. Caramella observed. "Especially for someone who works for said Noble assholes."
Agnes cast her a frigid glare. "Watch your tongue or I shall cut it out. Princess Hernietta and Queen Marianne are nothing like the decadent Nobility that infest this country."
"Whatever you say." Caramella backpedaled with all the grace her fuzzy mind would allow. "Didn't mean anything by it. But setting arson fires? So just who the hell were those guys back there?"
"At a guess." Agnes stopped at the next intersection, halting Caramella as she peered around the corner. It hadn't seemed like they were very far from the Castle before. Even a  big city was pretty small in a place like Tristain. But now it felt miles away.
"Enforcers, Royal Gendarmes assigned to the tax offices. In other words, Janglers own men. He probably has their loyalty through their purse strings."
Even more traitors, just great. And meanwhile, KoKo and two of their Tristanian allies were very likely still fighting them.
"Crap. Just how tough are these guys?" She asked as she followed Agnes around the corner, picking up her pace despite the way that she stumbled. This particular street didn't cut straight, instead winding and turning at odd angles, at its far end, Caramella could make out lights and the noises of festivities. News of what was going on deeper in the Commoner district was slow in arriving. A scrawny youth ran past them, shouting 'fire' at the top his lungs. Well, so much for the good mood.
Agnes grimaced as she gave the question some thought and then shook her head. "They'll be trained fighters, experienced in handling errant nobility. Not the normal soft headed breed."
Which made sense. Ponying up was probably a seemed a lot less desirable when you could wield a fist full of hellfire in protest. The tax men would need equally impressive muscle to make sure everything stayed on the level. It just kept getting better and better.
"Clear the way! Clear the streets for the Gendarmes!" At the far end of the path, a pair of men, uniformed, and armed with batons that Caramella fully expected to double as magical foci, were cutting a path down the street, turning their heads in every direction. So the cops were showing up for once. Looked like they were finally getting some luck tossed their way.
Beginning to raise a hand to the two approaching men, words shaping as she began to shout. Caramella was caught off guard as a hand closed around her wrist. In her unbalanced state, she wasn't able to put up the best fight as Agnes leveraged her against the wall. Wasn't able to put up any fight at all as the Musketeer pressed close to her. Wasn't really able to do anything as firm lips crushed against her own, pressing her head against the wall behind her.
A moment later, her surprised shouts were stifled by something warm and wet intruding on the inside of her mouth, pressing down with entirely too much force to be pleasant. Caramella found herself sitting in a place somewhere between concussion, and her brain rebooting from a corrupted .img file. Cracking one eye open, she watched the Gendarmes pass over Agnes' shoulder, one man snorting softly.
"Eh, looks like he's having some fun tonight."
"Oi, shut your mouth."
Agnes kept at it for a while long, until the two men were well out of sight and then some. About the time it would have started to look awkward, more awkward then it already did anyways, she finally released her hold, leaning back to allow a flustered Caramella enough room to fall to her knees.
"Pfft… pht… What… the… hell?" Caramella gasped between bouts of spitting. She was fairly sure that it wasn't all her saliva.
"Those men were Gendarms, the same as Janglers' forces. There's no guarantee we could trust them." Agnes wiped her mouth on the cuff of her blouse. "A Faerie would stand out walking the streets of the Capital at a time like this. And I needed to quiet you quickly."
"You needed to play hockey with my  tonsils ?" Caramella was incredulous, probing her inner lip where she'd cut herself on her own teeth. For all of her other prowess, Agnes sure as hell didn't know how to  kiss .
A small look of bemusement crossed the Musketeer's face. "I'd hardly spare it a second thought."
Caramella didn't know whether or not to be insulted by the jibe. She decided she'd just let it slide. Accepting a hand back to her feet. "You're lucky that your  cute ." Caramella said under her breath.
"What was that?"
"Nothing. Let's just keep…" A minute sound above them, too loud and heavy for anything that ought to have been standing on a shingled roof. Even in a daze, Caramella wasn't so far gone that those instincts wouldn't kick in, especially after the jolt she'd just received.
"Get back!" A hand closed around the collar of the Musketeer's blouse, pulling her her back as wings briefly flared. For the second time in one night, Caramella found herself slamming backwards into a wall as a hole the size of her thumb was blown out of the ground where Agnes had just been standing.
"What?!" Agnes looked back over her shoulder, eyes falling on the shattered stone and then turning to the sky above. "Move!"
Then it was Caramella's turn to be pulled along as two more air bullets punched holes in the cobble stones. High above them, walking calmly along the rooftop, she could see the cloaked figure taking pot shots.
"They found us!" Caramella warned.
"A truly superb deduction!" Agnes snapped back, the heat melting even her stoney demeanor.
Breaking into a run, dodging left and right to throw off aim. Caramella stumbled and rolled, half falling to her hands and knees before picking up speed, cursing all the while. If she could only get her feet under herself, get into the air… She'd be a sitting duck in this shooting gallery, assuming she didn't drunkenly crash face first into a sign or wall and end it all.
The few people on the street dove for cover or slammed their doors and windows, no one was willing to aid them, and Caramella couldn't fault them at all. This wasn't a fight a Commoner would want to get involved in. Well, she glanced over to Agnes who was keeping up without the benefit of Faerie strength, a normal commoner anyways.
Agnes spun around quickly, long enough to take aim at the figure chasing them. -Crack-! And for a second the spells let up, long enough for them to take another corner, Agnes grabbing at Caramella to steady her. "This way, back towards the river!"
"Where the hell are we going?" Caramella wondered out loud, not that she expected an answer, but Agnes seemed too happy to supply one.
"Here this one, it's a warehouse." The musketeer explained. "We can slip out through the back and down to the waterways.
The building, more of a large wooden barn, was closed and locked for the night, the doors guarded by a heavy iron locks. Agnes didn't bother with them in the least, quick as a cat, vaulting up atop a stack of wood crates to a locked and barred window.
"Leave that to me." Caramella grunted wedging her sword in scabbard between the bars and window frame. With her strength and the added leverage, it was enough to tear the bolts free. Even before the bars had clanged to the stone street, Caramella heard a more sinister noise, a hissing crack mere meters from her ears, wood bursting as it was struck.
"Come on!" Agnes growled, pulling her into the darkness beyond.
They fell, landing on something soft, or at least, softer than Caramella had been expecting. Fabric sacks piled high along the side of the wall, along with barrels and crates waiting to be filled. She felt something sticking to her fingers, and the tacky blood that had come away when she'd probed at her head. In the moonslight, where it was wasn't soaked red, Caramella could see something white and powdery.
"Flour?" She wondered out loud.
"A military storehouse. One of dozens." Agnes confirmed. "Supplies are gathered and stockpiled here before being transported to ships at dock. This one is provisions."
More rattling, like hail stones striking the wall, hail stones that were punching holes to let in the evening light.
"No time now." Agnes restated the obvious, beckoning for Caramella to follow her deeper into the shadows. "We can head out this way if we…"
A loud -crack- a burst of splinters grazing Caramella's cheek. A support beam, part of one of the wooden frame shelves lining the walls, had been broken like a toothpick, the contents collapsing into their path, barring their way. Crates and sacks fell, crashing to the floor, barrels of wine or water bursting as they struck.
When the silence returned, a voice echoed in the dark. "That wouldn't happen to be you would it, Lieutenant? I should have known when I saw you. The Captain's Protestant Whore. Tell me now, has the Crown grown so pathetic that it needs the aid of a Commoner and Wounded Faerie to save itself?"
Agnes gritted her teeth, turning slowly in the direction of the voice. There was a bit of an echo in here, but not enough to disguise the source. A second pistol fell into the Musketeer's hand, drawn from a spare holster under her cloak.
No, this wasn't right. Caramella thought fuzzily. Why speak out loud in the dark. He already knew Agnes had a gun. And hadn't the Musketeer just said Janglers and his squad were badasses? Unless… 'Unless he's listening for us!'
Agnes pulled the trigger, a click, and then a spray of sparks as the wheel lock spun up.
"No!"
Even before the powder caught and the gun fired, a hiss of air sped through the space that Agnes would have occupied if Caramella hadn't knocked her to the ground. The flash of the muzzle briefly illuminated the interior of the warehouse, enough for both of them to see that their attacker wasn't standing where his voice had come from.
"Such a shame. Maybe next time." The voice chuckled, this time coming from every direction.
Caramella and Agnes looked to each other, a shared look of dread. They'd thought they'd have a chance two on one, in the dark, to either ambush him or get away. Now though, it seemed that they were the ones being hunted. Agnes raised a finger to her lips, a silent nod. They couldn't give him anything to listen for.
"My. You've already figured it out?" A cluck of disapproval came from all directions. "Even staying quiet as a mouse won't save you. I'll still hear you. I  hear everything."
Which meant of course  magic . Caramella would have groaned if she'd thought it wouldn't draw fire. This guy wasn't leaving them many options. Run for the back? He'd hear their foot steps, or just the fabric and metal of their armor, neither of them were exactly equipping stealth gear. Surprise attack? They had no clue where he was, and he was using his magic to his advantage, hiding the noises of his own movements, getting into their heads.
Agnes tapped her on the shoulder ever so softly. Caramella looked up. A pale sliver of moonlight fell on her eyes, enough for Caramella to see where the was looking, at Caramella's sword, tapping it softly and then carrying a finger across he own jugular.
Yeah, she wanted to kill this bastard too. Didn't mean it was going to happen. And then Agnes did something really, really, stupid.
In a clatter of metal and fabric, she rolled away from Caramella, the space between them erupting in a blast of flesh rending wind. What the hell was she doing?!
Diving for cover, Agnes shouted at the top of her lungs. "Jangles! By order of the Crown and in the name of our Good and Noble Queen, I demand your surrender to stand trial for the high crime of treason!"
Another wind blast, another miss as it sank into Caramella's mind just what the suicidal musketeer was doing. Keep him shooting, keep him moving, most of all, keep him distracted.
"You think I harbor any lingering sense of loyalty to that pathetic woman or here rusted crown?" The voice echoed, but Janglers couldn't hide the direction of his attack. There had been sacks of flour stacked up on one of the collapsed shelves. "The Kingdom she left to rot? And her daughter, who would give the nation over to the Fae, to people like you?" The sacks had now spilled and were filling the air, enough for her to see the trail of the air bullets that the mag was firing off, enough to see that they led back to one spot.
Agnes was making a ruckus, knocking over barrels and pots and tossing pans across the room. Janglers might have been able to hear everything, but it would be an awful lot to take in. Caramella took her chance to move, stumbling again, cursing her own clumsiness. But she could see why Agnes was doing it this way, no way in hell would she be able to move like that right now.
"It will be your death to underestimate the common people, Janglers?"
A rasping laugh. "I've made my livings keeping you dregs in check. The common people, the foundation of the Kingdom! I do believe I'll build my new estate on your broken backs."
And then another -crack- as Agnes fired off yet another pistol. Just how many of those was she carrying? Either that or she was a master of reloading on the move. Whatever, in the intervening moments, Caramella had managed to work her way around, behind Janglers. Who was just another shadow among many, barely more than a silhouette of blackness.
Head throbbing as she remembered her humiliation, she could think of nothing but dealing out some payback as she closed closed, doing her best to stock, to stay below the noise that Agnes was kicking up. It almost worked, but something, maybe the -snick- of her sword, maybe a last stumbling -clatter- tipped him off. The figure of Janglers spun around, and at the last possible instant leaped away. Not enough. The spell must have been some kind of specialty, something that Janglers could keep up without even thinking about it, because his scream managed to come from all directions too.
"YOU… YOU DARE!" All of the clinical calm from moments before lost. It sounded like someone had just let the lunatic out of his straight jakcet.
Caramella was swept off of her feet and sent skidding across the floor until she hit a folded stack of canvas. She looked back up and felt the blood draining from her face. She hadn't had the opportunity to see a mage this pissed off before, it turned out that they could be damn terrifying when they just let the magic manifest. Caramella felt like she was in one of those horror movies with the teenage psychic killer, it was rom night, and she was expendable extra number thirteen.
"YOU DARE TO STRIKE ME!"
Agnes sure did, the Musketeer had seen everything, and must have thought it was a golden opportunity, rushing behind Janglers, full tilt into the weakened shelf at his back, frame wobbling under the unbalanced load, remaining beams cracking. The contents of the highest shelves spilling down to crash into a windshield swirling around Janglers as he turned and with a swipe of his wand, threw Agnes to land bodily beside Caramella.
How considerate, now they could die together. Not that she was crazy about that plan. Not that Agnes was crazy about it either, already struggling to reload her last wheel lock, fumbling to wind the firing spring.
"DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? JANGLERS THE REAPER'S TONGUE! I'VE KILLED MEN UNAWARES BEFORE YOUR ANIMAL PARENTS RUTTED YOU INTO EXISTENCE! YOU DARE TOUCH ME?!"
Clawing as the slash across his face, eyes glittering with hate. The Mage stepped forward, stilling barring his wind shield, kicking up a storm, wind splinters dancing at his feet, dust spinning up around him… dust… flour!
"Here's a stupid idea." Caramella grunted.
"What . . ?" Agnes didn't have time to ask more.
Grabbing one of the sacks beside her, Caramella rolled into an over shoulder throw, nearly face planting as she released, sending the bag, and its high glucose payload flying write into Janglers path, where it burst harmlessly and was swept up in the swirling tornado of wind magic, incidentally spreading into into a fine cloud.
So stupid! Caramella blamed her inner pyromaniac… and her Grandpa.
Snatching the wound wheel lock from Agnes's hands. "Hey, that's not loaded yet, do you even…"
"Doesn't matter!" Caramella uttered a small prayer and made a mental note to really buckle down and learn some more combat oriented magic, if she survived this. Pulling the trigger she threw the pistol into the oncoming cloud of flower and hatred and grabbed hold of Agnes. The only way out was the way they'd come in, it would have been a heck of a needle to thread if she'd been flying solo, and without a concussion.
Wings flaring, slamming into her load and carrying them both in a careening arc, chased by a hail of wind bullets, her shoulder clipped on the window frame with a unpleasant tearing sensation, and then she felt herself being hit from behind like she'd just back flopped into a pool. The heat proved her wrong as she was sent tumbling end over end across the pavement, finally crashing to a stop.
"Miss Caramella!" Agnes was shaking her, Hay Hair was looking a lot more like lightly singed hair now as she gazed down grabbing at Caramella's face, pulling her eye open to check. "Miss Caramella, can you hear me? Are you alright?"
Yeah, she could hear her alright. She could talk back too. "W-well… that was a thing." Caramella gasped, sitting up slowly and wincing as she felt her shoulder flare into pain. Yeah, Kino probably wouldn't be too happy with her. She was going to have a lot of explaining to do.
"That was the most suicidal, idiotic…" Agnes shook her head. "Where did you even learn something like that?!"
"My Grandpa." Agnes blinked. Caramella shrugged. "He was a farmer." Or liked to play farmer after he retired anyways. Dust explosions were a nasty thing, unless you were setting them for fun as a prelude to the  real fireworks. Best vacation ever.
Looking over the Musketeer's shoulder, Caramella was mildly surprised to see that the warehouse was still standing. Not really a miracle, the flower that had burst had been finely distributed by Janglers wind shield. Then all that glucose was primed to burn, very, very, quickly. But the rest was still packed tight or too finely distributed to go off. Grandpa would say it didn't meet all the points of the Explosion Pentagon. Save for the flickering glow of a few small flames, the smoke pooring from the window, the exterior of the warehouse was almost unblemished.
Agnes starred at the warehouse for a moment longer, as if expecting the Mage to burst through the wall screaming at them. But it didn't happen. Caramella somehow doubted he was going to be getting back up from something like that. And if he did, she'd rather just fall on her own sword.
"Well then." The Faerie got to her feet, dusting off her pants legs before grabbing hold of Anges to steady herself. "Love to stick around, but I think we've got a party to crash."
Agnes' answer was drowned out by the familiar whistling scream and thunder clap -boom- of a firework. It took Caramella a moment to realized that there hadn't been an accompanying flash of light in the sky.