Etsu nodded silently and followed. Eld was likely to be much better at sneaking than she, and was thus better fit to lead an "expedition" where stealth was necessary. Etsu had only really fought a couple of Ame Voleur so far, and neither of them really took hostages or anything. She didn't know how to deal with that kind of situation. And so, she followed quietly, until they got to the side of the barn, when she stopped and kept her back against it.
There was a large open window on the side, large enough to practically jump through-- and therefore easy to look into, at the very least. Etsu felt that Eld would be better to watch, while she kept her senses open. This close, the powerful energy she felt before was much clearer. Now, it felt massive.
Inside, the Krigenson family sat on the floor, tied up, but loosely. Joseph Krigenson had already escaped his bondage, even, and his captors didn't do anything about it. Joseph Krigenson was a middle aged man, about forty two years old, with graying hair and a stiff body. He was developed arthritis and couldn't work that well on their farm anymore, and so he depended on outside help. He hadn't shaved in the last few days, and had gray stubble all over his jaw. The man was shirtless, and only in a pair of sweatpants.
Krigenson's wife, Mary, lay beside of him, her side on the floor, her eyes glazed and staring out-- out beyond the window. She was a little younger than Joseph, with short brown hair, and was a little heavy set. She only wore a sleepshirt and a pair of sweatpants, too. It seemed they hadn't even gotten out to work yet. Despite the situation, she seemed completely relaxed. She was breathing normally and her heartbeat did not fluctuate-- nor did her spirit.
Joseph's daughter, Eliza, was just the same. She was in her late twenties and often came to help with the farm, despite living with her husband in Galaens. She was dressed to work, unlike her parents younger brother. Eliza lay flat upon her chest with the side of her face upon the floor. Her eyes were closed, but just like her mother, she was completely relaxed. Unnervingly relaxed, even.
Krigenson's son, however, was not. He was huddled in the corner of the barn, shaking, whimpering, and trying not to scream. He was only nine. His breath was quick and heart beat rapid, and his spirit was fluctuating as rapidly as his father's. They were stressed. They were horribly stressed. Scared out of their minds, even.
Their aggressors stood within the barn, as well. One stood at the entrance, while another stood just off to the side of Krigenson. He who stood off to the side of Krigenson was as outlandish as Etsu Hikane. He had very light azure hair-- almost ice blue, in fact, which fell down to the same level as his chin. Hazy blue eyes stared down at Krigenson, whom was regarded with a humorless expression: a frown. He had all the traits of a Cizokian, including height: he was somewhat short. Oddly enough, he wore a thick, brown winter coat, a thick pair of jeans, heavy boots, and a warm scarf wrapped around his neck. It was almost as if he were dressed for winter. The man was deathly pale, and appeared to be in his early twenties at best.
His companion, who stood at the entrance of the barn, actually looked even more outlandish. He stood at the same height as Eldridge Tsukimono, and appeared to be Algerothian-- perhaps. His brown hair was only long enough to cover his eyebrows, though only one would've been visible anyways, for he wore what seemed to be a mask. It was bland, smooth, and steel colored, with only a red piece of glass over where his eye would be, red markings up and down from the eyepiece. However, it only covered half of his face. It was split down the middle, as if intentional. How it remained on his face seemed to be a physical impossibility. And just like his face seemed half-- one half showing, the other half wearing a mask --his clothes, too, all seemed halved. His shirt was an amalgamation of a button down dress shirt and a hooded sweatshirt, both cut down the middle and sewn together as if they were meant to be that way. The same applied to his pants, too: on one leg, shorts, and on the other, long pants.
The man in the half-mask stared directly at Krigenson, specifically saying nothing. His was a stare that could send a man into a terrible fit, though. It was strong and intentional, as if he were looking beyond the body and into the soul-- and yet, his stare and his expression were completely blank. In his left hand, he held a keychain. On it, he had a total of twelve keys. Nine of them had an unnatural shimmer to them.
"Th-the . . . the Tsukimono boy . . ." Krigenson whispered frantically, "He has it-- that . . . that farming scythe you described-- that's his. I swear it!"
"Tsukimono?" the azure haired figure asked.
"Y-yes-- the-- the son of the people that-- that run the clinic, just down the road! I swear it!"
"I see," the azure haired figure trailed off in thought, before turning to his companion, "Illorex, please report this Gestahl. He's mentioned that name before."
The man at his right, Illorex, nodded, before turning away himself and walking out of the barn. The keychain in his hand was pocketed, much to the dismay of Krigenson. He instantly pulled himself up and started after Illorex, passing by the azure haired figure thoughtlessly in a rush, only to be stopped by him in an instant, with a hand upon his diaphragm. It seemed like a light touch, yet it had Krigenson completely still.
"B-but . . . but Mary . . . and . . . Eliza . . ." Joseph Krigenson spoke slowly as he reached out towards Illorex, who was, by that point, already quite distant.
Less than a second passed before Illorex disappeared before his eyes-- the same time as the massive spiritual energy felt by Etsu seemed to vanish from the vicinity. She reached for Eld, taking hold of his jacket, and lightly tugged on it. The look she gave him was one of confidence, as she nodded to him. She felt they could assault without concern, now.
"Think of them as collateral, Krigenson-san. Now, remain here, less you wish for the same fate as the Lattes." The azure haired figure declared as he pushed Krigenson back lightly.
Krigenson fell back onto his rear, his entire body shaking. It wasn't adrenaline, though. He was shivering. His skin, likewise, had the faintest hint of blue to it, and even in his gray hair, frost seemed to have collected. Slowly, coldly, he moved his arms up, hugging them to his chest, and shivered violently. And with that, the azure haired figure turned and started out of the barn, as well . . .
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