Chapter 5 – Running on Thin Air

Ah, perfect. Just perfect. With the soldiers practically breaking down the door, I’m stuck in Norisa’s luxurious parlor—now feeling a lot less “cozy” and a lot more “awkward ambush set.” Norisa, of course, is nowhere to be seen, having taken the most logical course of action: skedaddling out the back and melting into the forest like some well-dressed phantom. Clearly, loyalty is a virtue that got lost in our last handshake.

I take a second to consider my options, which, let’s face it, aren’t great. If I let these soldiers catch me, the Empress will probably lock me up forever, and I’m not talking about a quaint jail cell with a view. Try stone dungeons, dank corridors, and that special brand of imperial hospitality known as “please sing like a canary while we polish the chains.” Yeah, I’ll pass.

Fortunately, I’m no amateur. I’ve got a few tricks up my finely tailored sleeves. The stomping boots are getting louder, so I dash for the nearest window, only to find it’s covered in some fancy latticework. Great. I suppose I could smash it open, but that would be loud. And I don’t want loud. I want subtle. Ghostly. Like a breeze. Preferably one that doesn’t leave me with a crossbow bolt in my spine.

As heavy footsteps pound against polished floors, I calm myself and whisper, “Wind Step.” Immediately, a surge of magic crackles through my veins. My feet become lighter than a whisper. Time to leave a blur where I once stood. I dart toward the corridor, slipping through a side door just as the soldiers burst into the parlor. I catch a glimpse of their armor—impressive craftsmanship—but I’m not sticking around to compliment the smith.

Skidding into a hallway lined with overpriced paintings, I spot an open window leading to a balcony. Perfect. Two steps, I vault over a chair, and I’m out on the ledge. With a flick of my hand, I conjure a tiny gust to propel me clear of the balcony. I land in a flowerbed that smells suspiciously like imported roses—fancy—and roll to my feet, brushing off petals as I go.

My top priority? Get to the forest before these guys form a perimeter. After all, Norisa’s probably halfway to the woods by now, cackling at the thought of me wrestling with the Empire’s finest. Oh, he’ll pay for this—later. Right now, I need to focus on not dying.

“Alright, Alfred, think.” I mutter to myself, ducking behind a hedge as a pair of guards sprint past. “If I follow the garden’s edge, I can slip out the back and into the treeline.” The garden’s massive, a sprawling masterpiece of horticulture, but for me, it’s the world’s fanciest obstacle course. I vault a low stone wall, zigzag through a rose arbor, and slide under a pergola draped with flowering vines. Graceful? Probably not. But I’d like to think I’m giving these guards a real show.

Another pair catches my scent and charges, swords drawn. I sigh—no killing. Just a gentle tap on the head, right? I raise my Soulbinder Sword, its blade humming with elemental energy. A quick infusion of wind magic and I swing in a wide arc, not hitting them directly, but releasing a gust that sends them stumbling into a rosebush. Thorns: nature’s way of saying, “Please lie down and reconsider your life choices.” They’re not dead, just pricked and probably swearing a lot.

I break into a sprint again. The distant shouting is like a chorus of angry street vendors, each voice insisting I come back and buy their products (or, in this case, surrender). Not happening. I slip around a fountain carved into the likeness of some long-dead hero—unfortunately, it’s too slippery to climb gracefully, and I nearly take a tumble. Focus, Alfred. This is no time to admire the landscaping.

At last, I see the treeline looming beyond a final row of hedges. Freedom! Fresh air! More importantly, no imperial dungeons. As I near the boundary, two more guards step into my path, forming a blockade. Great, just what I needed. I slow down, raising my hand like I’m about to negotiate. “Look, gentlemen, I’d love to chat about this misunderstanding, but I really must decline any invitations to prison.” They lunge. I jump back, pulling a small crystal from my utility belt.

This crystal’s loaded with a flash spell—nothing lethal, just bright enough to blind them momentarily. I lob it underhand. “Adaptive Counter,” I whisper, analyzing their footwork. One tries a high slash; I duck. The other tries a low sweep; I jump, tapping him lightly on the temple with the pommel of my sword. He collapses into a dazed heap. His partner, still blinking away spots of light, flails around. I nudge him sideways, and he tips into a hedge with a rustle and a muffled thud. Sorry, fellas—just doing my job.

Breathing hard, I finally slip past the hedges and into the forest. The canopy of leaves welcomes me like old friends waving me in, and I let the cool shade wash over my nerves. I’m safe for now. The guards are still behind me, but at least out here I have options. Trees make great cover, and I’ve always been better at hide-and-seek than at polite conversation.

I glide through the underbrush, using Wind Step in quick bursts to stay ahead. Twigs snap behind me, voices shout instructions, but they’re getting farther away. Good. No reason to linger. If I’m caught, I can pretty much kiss my freedom goodbye. The Empress might be fond of me once—eons ago—but fondness doesn’t spare you from official interrogation these days. And let’s not even start on what would happen if she found out about that little “broke a few garden statues on my way out” detail.

As I move deeper into the forest, I think I catch a glimpse of a figure darting through the trees ahead. Norisa, most likely. That sneaky fox. He’s probably laughing so hard he’s choking on pine needles. I don’t bother calling out. What would I say? “Hey, thanks for handing me over to the Empire’s goon squad, I really appreciate it!” No, I think I’ll save the witty comebacks for later. Besides, he’s long gone, and I have more pressing matters.

I slow down once I’m sure I’m not being actively chased. Just a light jog, hopping over a mossy log here, ducking under a low-hanging branch there. The forest smells nice, at least. Damp earth and pine resin—a nice change from Norisa’s fancy cologne and expensive teas. I might even consider this a pleasant morning hike if it weren’t for the life-and-death stakes.

“Note to self,” I mutter under my breath, “next time, don’t trust a man who sleeps in pajamas worth more than my entire wardrobe. Also, get some sort of magical alarm system for these spontaneous ambushes. Maybe a potion that makes me look like a harmless squirrel.” I snort at the thought. Actually, that might be too dignified a fate.

As I continue, the sounds of pursuit grow faint. I’m not home-free yet, but at least I’m not cornered in a mansion. The Empress’s men might still be looking for me, but I’ve got a head start, and I know how to vanish into Eldoria’s wilderness. If I keep my wits about me, I can circle around, find a safe route, maybe link up with some allies who aren’t in the business of double-crossing me.

To ensure I’m not leaving a trail, I use a tiny gust of wind to scatter my footprints—just a small trick I learned during one of my “special assignments.” Sure, I might’ve miffed a few soldiers today, but at least I didn’t kill anyone. That’s gotta count for something, right? I’m trying to keep my karmic balance in check. No mass slaughters, no impalements. Just a few bruises and some serious gardening bills for Norisa’s estate.

I pause behind a stout oak, listening. Only distant rustling and bird calls. Perfect. Time to move on. As I push deeper into the forest’s embrace, I can’t help but grin. They’ll be expecting some terrified fugitive, but they’re dealing with me—Alfred von Schmidt, master combatant, strategist, multilingual wizard-swordsman extraordinaire. And I’ve survived worse than this.

Still, a part of me curses Norisa under my breath. Selling me out like that? He must have had a reason. Not that I care at the moment. My main objective is staying free and eventually tracking down that missing Otherworlder. I’ve got a job to do, and I can’t do it locked in some imperial cell.

The forest thickens, the light dimming. I keep moving, more relaxed now that I’ve shaken my pursuers. Still, I can’t help but cast a glance over my shoulder. No sign of them. Good. If the Empress wants to catch me, she’ll have to try harder than that.

“Nice try, Norisa,” I murmur, weaving between mossy trunks. “Next time, maybe don’t underestimate my exit strategy.” I allow myself a small chuckle as I continue forward. One crisis down, countless more to go. But hey, that’s life in Eldoria—never a dull moment.

At least I’m not in chains. At least I’m still breathing forest air. And at least I’ll have a fun story to tell when this arc is finally about me—someday.