Outside the small, recently disowned workshop, chaos was ensuing. Much louder than the earlier small panic that the gunshot had caused, large swarms of people screamed as they poured down the streets, tumbling past carriages and fruit stands. They mob fled away from the center of the city, where deep smoke rose in the sky, and the stench of burning woods and flesh rose in the sky.
But Tito was completely ignorant of the chaos, totally enveloped in the horror of Huli in front of him. The sturdy woman had a tough yet beautiful complexion, a look of grumpy yet calm solemnity in her blank eyes. He had been kneeling over her for five minutes now, trying to get a proper thought to form. No tears fell. Just a hollow feeling of despair in his heart.
Tito was finally jerked back into reality as a man crashed through the front door, slamming it shut and breathing in ragged breaths. Still in a foggy mood, Tito turned and looked at the man. He wore a vest, sleek velvet pants, and a crisp goatee. But his demeanor did not match; his large, widened eyes flickered about the room, and he licked his lips between ragged breaths. He held his back to the door. He looked at Tito after a moment, fear and hesitation in his gaze.
Tito didn't manage to get out any words, so the man spoke up. "Um, sorry, I just-" the man exhaled, rubbing his wrinkled head. "The Knights Constabulary are here and... not on friendly terms."
A prick of a chill managed to slip down Tito's spine, despite his numbness. He could lose everything in the world, and hearing of the Knights of the King coming down for you would still terrify Tito.
Tito turned back to Huli, as of hoping he might catch her snoring or squinting at him. She lay still, unmoving, though. She's moved to the beyond, he finally admitted to himself. He felt a rush of tears pry from his cold eyes, wetting his jacket.
That was when he noticed something - a small corner of a paper poking out from her jacket pocket. She always wore mens jackets due to their pockets, and placed various tools and notes in them. But something seemed strange about the paper.
He pulled the slip out from her jacket, confirming his suspicions. It was worn and browning on the edges, as if read often. Unlike Tito, Huli was highly clean and organized, and would never let a piece of paper get dirty so easily. It must have been with her for a long time.
Brushing aside some of his tears from his red eyes, he looked at the slip. A young girl was in the sepia toner photograph, with long hair, maybe brown in color, and large eyes. It didn't look like Huli, nor anybody Tito knew. She looked to be around 10 years old, and she was standing against a smooth stone wall. It was probably an old picture, as most photographers liked to use sharper black and white photos these days.
"Why the hell are the Knights-" the man muttered as he entered the workshop, his voice wavering, though he froze as he saw Tito kneeling over Huli. He blanched even more, and took a step back. "D-did you..."
Tito looked down, realizing he still had his gun in his hand. "No, I came when I heard her-" he choked off the last of the sentence, wiping away the last of his tears. He put the gun down and stood up slowly.
The fellow looked between Tito, Huli, and the gun for a few more moments before relaxing visibly. "Alright. I don't know what happened here, boy, but we're not safe. The Knights Constabulary are outside and they're killing." He scrunched his face, though the man did not look very surprised.
Tito pushed down the grief that manifested as a lump in his throat, trying to understand what the man meant. "They're... killing? Like, people, in the city?" That didn't make any sense. The Constabulary was there to keep order. "It's probably an invasion." Though that wasn't very plausible either. The State didn't have any enemies that Tito knew of, though he wasn't very politically aware. Yet, Tito couldn't feel any of the horror or shock he should feel at that moment.
Behind the bloke, a loud crash sounded as the front door was bashed in from its hinges. The door smashed through the contents of the room beyond, making Tito wince as he heard it destroy tables and presumably the timekeepers that rested atop them, probably thousands of spans of gold worth in clocks destroyed. A tall woman strode into the room, looking darkly at the two men. She wore a uniform of the Knights Constabulary standard, made of dyed black leathers and gambison, with white glazed metal plating over her shoulders, breasts, and legs, with similarly colored gauntlets. Her dark brown hair was tied in a spiky ponytail. She swept aside her black and white cloak and pulled out a sleek blackened blade, pointing it at the two. "In the name of the Holy Knigthood of the Lady Eliss, put your weapons down."
Tito paled despite himself, noting he had picked up his shoddy firearm instinctively. The man in front of him had pulled out a ceremonial shortblade from his waist belt, though Tito didn't doubt the sharp glint of its edge. Tito himself quickly tossed his gun on the table next to him, putting his hands forward as his mother had taught him to. The lady did not look like someone to mess with.
But the other man still held his thin blade forward, sweat beading on his forehead. Tito felt his stomach drop. Disobeying a Knight? The man wouldn't live much longer. Tito was doubtful her wrath would avoid him either.
The Knight's stern look turned to one of disgust, and she opened her mouth to bark something. Her blade began glowing a subtle purple along the back, flat edge of the blade.
Tito noticed the man next to him sliding a small glass vial with a metal plug on top from his pocket, filled with some grey cloudy substance. The man twisted the vial in his one hand before sharply throwing it at the woman, the glass sailing with practiced precision.