Aylen paused there, in the blinding light, in silence. He took off his hat, running a hand through his hair as he tried to wrap his mind around what he was seeing.
“Mr Aylen, sir?” asked a shivering woman, stepping apart from the crowd. “Y-you came?”
He turned to her, a tearful smile on his face, and took her hands in his. “Of course I came, my dear. The second I saw what was afoot, I came straight down to help, but I…” He shook his head, at a loss.
The woman started to sob. Aylen wrapped his arms around her, taking a sharp and furious breath. “May God strike down the ones responsible,” he said. “With me, as his hand, if he so chooseth.”
“God bless you, Mr Aylen!” cried a man from the crowd.
“Save us, Mr Aylen!” cried another, and the rapturous voices quieted as the neighbours took careful steps away from the one who’d dared to say such a thing.
Aylen let go of the woman and walked toward the isolated man, who realized what a mistake he’d made. He took his hat off, bowing his head deeply, but afraid to take his eyes off of Aylen as he approached.