A Heavy Heart to Carry - PSL with apostasy

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I was a heavy heart to carry
my beloved was weighed down
my arms around his neck
my fingers laced to crown
I was a heavy heart to carry
but he never let me down
when he held me in his arms
my feet never touched the ground

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That motion might make all the difference.

The bedroom window shatters. Something round hits the floor and starts hissing out clouds of white vapor. The sound of Nathaniel's footsteps charging back up the stairs are suddenly halted by sounds of a struggle.

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Anders yelps in surprise and jumps up, but the smoke clouds his vision and makes his throat burn. He coughs and then reaches up to block his mouth. He gropes for his staff. His energy is still pretty low, he doesn't have much spell inside of him.

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The gas, when inhaled for a short time, brings a heavy drowsiness. The struggle in the stairway is violent; shouts can be heard, one above all the others.

"Anders!" Nathaniel cries in rage and fear.

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Anders feels his head swim and he struggles to get up and get out of the room. He needs to not be near the smoke. He needs to help Nate. He keeps his mouth covered and manages to get to door. He's able to yank it open and try to get out to go to the sound of Nathaniel's voice.

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A retainer with a bloodied face is the first person Anders can see. This is no rent-a-guard, but a trained special agent, and there's another behind Nathaniel on the stairs. The one on the far side carries a long knife. Nathaniel wields an identical one, snatched from the other. His face and arms have been cut, but he's fighting like a bear.

For now, the retainers have their hands full with Nathaniel, and Anders can surprise them.

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Seeing Nathaniel being attacked fuels Anders with rage and worry. He lashes out, aiming the staff at the nearest one. Despite his thought that he was too drained to fight, he still managed to find strength himself to attack. The spell that hit attacked both of the men and was strong, much stronger than he thought possible.

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The shock of the spell going through the man on the far side gives Nathaniel the chance to disarm him, grab his head, and knock him hard against the wall. He drops like a stone. The last man shudders hard and falls dead, eyes wide open.

Nathaniel stumbles toward Anders.

"Are you--"

Noises from the bedroom. More people are entering there, and from the main entrance. No time. Nathaniel readies the knives and starts heading up the stairs, shoving past Anders to close the bedroom door and jam it before the attackers slip through.

"Library window."

It will be a painful drop, but it's not likely to result in broken bones and it's a safer bet than facing their attackers. Their attackers who clearly know who they are up against.

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Anders wobbles a moment and then nods. He holds onto the staff and moves to the library. He makes sure Nate is with him as he moves to open the window.

"You first," he says, standing back to give Nate room. "So I can cast a healing spell on you if needed and you can help me when I'm down there." He was planning on casting the spell anyway because of the cuts.

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The drug is only settling heavier in Anders' system as time goes on, though the movement and adrenaline staves off the drowsiness for now.

Nathaniel drops his knives down and jumps to the ground, landing with knees bent and rolling. The moment he's on his feet, he reaches up to aid Anders.

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Anders feels his vision blur as he gets up to the window. He has to have a moment but he manages to get to the ground with Nathaniel's help. "I don't feel well..." he explains as he ends up leaning pretty heavily on Nathaniel once they're on the ground together. He feels like he's going to pass out pretty soon but he's trying to hold on to get to safety. He can't expect Nathaniel to carry him the whole time.

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"Just to the stable. I've my hunting-bow there." If Nathaniel can get to a longbow, this fight will be over. "Come on."

He urges Anders toward the stable.

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Anders nods and uses the motion to clear his head. He moves with Nathaniel towards the stables, desperate to get there so that they could escape or at least fight off whoever was trying to kill them. His head was still swimming but he managed, focusing through the haze by thinking about how little help he would be for Nathaniel is he passed out now.

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Nathaniel grabs the bow in the stables and strings it as a half-dozen men come around the corner. He doesn't even pick up the quiver. He just takes an arrow and shoots. One, two of the men go down before the rest fall back. One shoots an arrow from a shortbow, but the range of accuracy is too small. The arrow whistles by, several feet away from Nathaniel.

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Anders shakes his head a bit to put himself in the present and focuses his energy on the fight. He swings his staff and calls down lightning to attack some of the men, attacking a few of them in one spell. It makes his head swim right away but he shoves that aside to focus on the remaining men.

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Anders' spell lands just short of the targets. Only one man is struck with lightning, and he convulses and drops to the ground.

Five more come from the house to join the four attacking, taking cover around the side of the house. Regrouping. Nathaniel turns to Anders, opening his mouth as if to give direction.

That's when a sniper in the trees shoots him.

The arrow plants itself in Nathaniel's upper left arm. Instead of instruction, a cry of pain tears from him and he slams against a stall door, clutching defensively at his arm.

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Anders felt his vision getting worse every moment, and then Nate was hit and it caused panic to go through him. He moves closer, wanting to get the arrow out and cast a healing spell, but if he does that, he's likely to lose himself completely after.

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A blind terror hits Nathaniel, that after finding such a beautiful and truly great happiness, he is about to lose him. The arrow has pierced through his arm. The only way to get it out is to cut off the end and pull it the rest of the way through, and their attackers are running up to surround them already. But they are not attacking. Their blades and bows are quickly being put away. No, they are not attacking. They are capturing.

But the drug in Anders' system seems to be working back out of it. He'll find himself a little stronger, and that he has the time and mana to make one final push: either to make a massive attack against the oncoming captors, or to heal Nathaniel.

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When he sees that the arrow is going to take a bit more work and that the attackers are stopping, he chooses to attack. It's easier to hit them now that they're standing still. He summons the rest of his strength and calls forth one final attack. Hopefully, Nathaniel will be able to get away if these men go down.

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This time, fueled by will and adrenaline, the lightning hits. Hard. It lances through five men at once, and through them, to the others. Lightning dances in the watering-troths, fire catches in the hay, the horses wail in fear. One would-be captor hits the ground, writhing and twisted, then another. When the lightning stops, the rest follow, and lie there motionless.

Nathaniel blinks at it all through a haze of pain and remembers why so many people are afraid of mages. He struggles to rise, but any and all movement brings incredibly agony with the arrow-shaft still lodged in him.

"Starkhaven," he groans faintly.

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"Go," Anders tries. He wants to tell Nate to leave him, to take care of himself and run, but all he can really get out is that one word before he feels himself losing it completely. He collapses, first falling to his knees and then towards the ground.

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When Anders wakes, he is lying on his side in a boat that pitches fretfully in the water, then bumps hard against something. He will feel a moment after waking that his mana is drained. His hands are bound behind him. A few people nearby are talking quietly. A hand pats Anders on the cheek.

"Wake up," says a woman's voice. "We need you to walk."

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Anders comes too slowly and groggily and then grunts. "No thank you. I'm rather comfortable here," he mutters softly. It's not true, but he's not about to play along with his captors.

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"That's fair," the woman concedes. "But it's not a matter of whether or not we get you where you're going. More a matter of how comfortable you are. And considering what the prince has in store for you, you might want to take comfort where you can get it, while you can."

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Anders rolls his eyes a bit. "You can tell Sebastian exactly where to shove his righteous fury." Then, slowly, he pushes himself up and looks around, trying to see if he sees Nate around or if his lover got away. He is worried, of course, but at the moment he couldn't care as much without knowing better of what was going on.

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Nathaniel is nowhere to be found. The boat has been dragged up on a beach. Across ocean water, there is the sight of a distant, faded land. Amaranthine.

The woman's face darkens and she and lashes out, striking Anders open-handed across one cheek hard enough to snap his head to the side. Then she grabs his chin and makes him look at her. She looks like she's about to say something, but stops, hesitates, and then lets out her breath.

"Waste of time. You're as good as dead. Now walk."

She takes him by the elbow and starts pulling him, none too gently, toward her comrades. There are only three of them; the attackers who infiltrated their home must have mostly been local mercenaries, or died in the initial attack.