The sounds of the battle had not gone unnoticed. In the Slums, people usually minded their own business when they heard the sounds of clashing steel, it was a survival instinct for them living in this area long enough to know, that most fights were better left unnoticed here. But this time were different, because a blast that shook the foundations of their homes was different.
By the time Verra and Elsa had managed to lift Eon into the back of the carriage, a crowd had begun to gather at the edges of the docks. Men in dirty clothes holding torches, women with tired eyes, and even a few older children peeked around the corners of the nearby buildings.
They saw the crater. They saw the unconscious thugs. And they saw the carriage with the crest of the Denares house.
"Is... is it over?" an old man asked, stepping into the light of a torch. "Did someone finally kill the Hyra Thugs?"
Elsa stood tall, her hand on her sword hilt, though she was shaking from fatigue. "The mage is dead. And The Merchant Guild's dogs are also defeated."
A murmur went through the crowd. It wasn't a murmur of fear, but of hushed, bubbling excitement. These people lived under the thumb of the Hyra guild. They paid the "protection" fees While they watched their daughters disappear into the night.
"I think they're from the Edger mansion," someone whispered to anothers person's question. "... the Elf. He did this?"
"He saved us," Alen shouted, standing up and pointing at the carriage. "He came for my mother! He fought that monster mage and won!"
The atmosphere changed instantly. The suspicious looks turned into gratitude all of a sudden, hearing their worst enemy was done in by these Elven peoples.
"Do you need help with those thugs?" One of the old man asked Verra, seeing her struggling to bind the thugs with her shaky hands.
Verra was a little uncertain about what to say. She didnt expect to be hearing words of gratitude from these humans. So she just stared at him without saying anything.
Seeing Verra frozen, Elsa replied with a gentle tone, "Thank you. We would be glad to accept your help."
People started tostep up helping the bind the thugs and carrying them on the carriage.
"We hate these bastards," one of the dockworkers said, stepping forward. "Tell us what you need, Elves. We'll help you with whatever we can."
"Oh, just getting them on the carriage is enough I think."Elsa replied.
With the help of the locals, the chaotic scene was brought under some semblance of order. Two men helped Elsa bind the unconscious woman and the surviving thugs with heavy shipping rope, tossing them into a corner of the big carriage like trash.
Meanwhile, Hans got up. He led a group of volunteers into the warehouse. The doors had been blown inward, and the interior was a dark, smelling maze of crates and iron cages.
"In the back!" Alen cried, running ahead. "I saw them take her to the back!"
They found the holding area behind a false wall of grain sacks. It was a nightmare.
A dozen women and three young girls were huddled together on the cold, damp floor. They were gagged with dirty rags and their hands were bound tightly behind their backs. Some were crying silently; others just stared at the walls with broken spirits.
"Mother!" Alen screamed.
A woman in a torn brown dress looked up. Her hair was a mess and her face was bruised, but when she saw Alen, her eyes filled with a light that could have rivaled Eon's fireball.
Hans quickly moved in with a small knife, cutting the gags and ropes.
"Alen! Oh, my boy!" Martha sobbed as the ropes fell away. She threw her arms around her son, holding him as if he might vanish if she let go.
The other women were helped out by the dockworkers. Two of them found relatives in the crowd; while others were simply grateful to be free once again.
Elsa and Verra watched from the entrance as the women were led out. Martha walked toward them, her hands still gripped tightly in Alen's. She looked at the carriage, where Eon was lying unconscious under a thick blanket.
"Is he... is he going to be alright?" Martha asked, her voice trembling from worry about him.
"It's okay. He just overexerted himself," Verra said quietly, her eyes never leaving Eon's face. "He's a fool. He uses his life like it's something he can just buy more of."
Martha looked at Eon, this man she had met only hours ago. A man who had no reason to risk his life for a poor woman in a dying village. Yet he came to save her. Risking his life to fight these thug's.
She had seen the blast. She knew that he had pushed himself to the brink of death to save her. She felt a strange type of feeling, which can only be explained with gratitude and a new-found loyalty for Eon.
She walked to the side of the carriage and knelt in the dirt. She took Eon's limp, blackened hand and pressed it to her forehead.
"You got us our lives back," she whispered, her tears falling onto his hand. "I don't have gold. I don't have land. But from this day until my last breath, my loyalty belongs to House Edger. I vow my loyalty to you, and only you."
Elsa felt a lump in her throat. She placed a hand on Martha's shoulder. "He'll be happy to hear that when he wakes up. But for now, let's get out of here before the Guild sends reinforcements."
The crowd helped them turn the carriage around. The locals promised to keep quiet about who exactly had caused the blast, though everyone knew the story of the "Black-Haired Demon" would be told in every tavern in the Slums by morning.
As the carriage began its slow, bumpy journey back up the hill toward the mansion, the moon was finally beginning to set. The night of fire was over, but for Eon and the House of Edger, the true struggle had only just begun.