Chapter Two

Amberosin had always believed her luck to be fairly… well, shit. Three weeks before the bandaged man began his havoc, Amberosin had slyly snagged a key from a merchant on the Northern Port’s road, named after some newly appointed noble or another, and fled the scene with guards hot on her tail. The young woman had figured they would be on alert for a few days and she could survive off of hunting and gathering for that long.

She nearly starved for two weeks.

Not to mention the three Mother Moons introduced Amberosin to an astonishing new part of her life. A gift from Solas; new, poorly placed, blood. Along with cramps and pains straight from hell, she suffered a soreness that made her wish for death hours on end. She spent the better part of a week scouting the towers and wall from a fetal position under thickets, bleeding in small pools that she covered with dirt to avoid attracting any hungry beast.

She’d never felt so useless or miserable as when she burst into horrible sobs after dropping a berry and watching it be stolen by a small furry creature.

After a few days she had realized bleeding was slowing and the pain subsiding, if only a little. She had also come to terms with the fact Wilder vermin and berries would not be enough to depend on, not in the quantities she could obtain alone. Not while she bled so freely. She was weary and feared she may misremember her mother’s teachings, eat a shit-storm inducing nut or berry and die.

Days and nights were wasted sobbing in self pity as she watched the guards along the border trying to decipher their scheduled changes only to realize on the sixth night she’d not seen one person twice in the same posting. She’d made dangerous assumptions, thinking her previous exploits made her seem more like a group of Nomad’s and there would be stricter shifts because they feared an actual resistance. Strict shifts were easy to read and remember; typically.

Amberosin cursed herself for staking so much on single haul, on one stupid key. She was sure that had been the cause of the guards sudden change in habits. Amberosin had played the events over in her mind again and again. Torturing herself all the more.

While she had been scouting out takes in the port district she’d overheard a local apprentice drunkenly exclaim how his new master was a wealthy merchant from some far off land.

“A man who's never been to Blancana. Will teach me the ways of exquisite culinary prower..prowess, so he says. Right o’er there.”

The homely young man seemed right proud of himself, likely aided by the free ale his mates had procured in celebration of a friend's good fortune. In their drunken elation None had thought to quiet themselves from prying ears.

Amberosin took off in the direction the fool had pointed, directly across the marbled road, before any other brigands in the shadows could claim it as their own. She arrived only seconds before a cloaked pair who looked rather clean to be hard pressed thieves from the slums.

Ah, Port thieves. Must be dressed by the nobles.

She snickered despite herself and thanked the Creator above that they were still far enough away to remain unalert.

Amberosin crouched just inside the doorway of the abandoned building and could see they were looking behind them, making sure no one had followed. Looking away from her. Their finely kept grey and white cloaks weren’t familiar but their tattered hoods and serrated daggers were unmistakable. She let out a sigh of relief as she revealed herself.

“Patri and Senfe.” Closest things Amberosin had to friends, in the sense that they didn’t try to kill her; typically.

Both cloaked figures had spun on her at the same time. Patri scowling with his daggers drawn. He still sported a purple knot above his left eye that she’d given him during their last disagreement. His hair was long, curly, and black with grey peppered throughout but it did little to hide his unseemly shiner. Senfe turned with a warm smile already on her lovely face as Amberosin appeared from the threshold of the soon-to-be merchant’s shop.

“ You two love birds come looking for somewhere to store those fancy cloaks before heading back south to maul each other outside a pub?” She couldn’t help but flash her teeth in a soft grin as she eyed their outfits. “Trimmed in gold? Thieving for nobles now I suppose? Thought ya better than that.”

Patri muttered and fumed like an enraged kettle but didn’t move a muscle, Amberosin noted that his scars seemed almost alight and swore his eyes had gone white.

Senfe laughed wholeheartedly and shook her head, dark curls bouncing just above her bright emerald eyes. Not an ounce of anger or concern. She walked calmly towards Amberosin with her hands out before her.

“ Oh believe me honey, we’ve got more dignity than that. For the time being at least.” Senfe’s muscular arms wrapped around her delicately and Amberosin returned the gesture. “Though, you know how it is. If the take is good enough, I don’t care who's paying. As long as momma can eat.” Rubbing her belly as she backed away to Amberosin’s side Senfe slammed down and crossed her legs.

Amberosin appreciated the sentiment more than Senfe could imagine, her own stomach felt as if it had begun eating itself and she’d developed a light tremor. Amberosin’s empty guts nearly tore away from her in a fatalistic mutiny when Senfe pulled out a pack with cooked meat and started snacking loudly. Her mouth had watered so badly Amberosin feared it would spill over her chapped lips.

“ Kind of what I was thinking about this place.” she pointed to the building she had come from; the same one they’d come for. “Really need a steady supply of food for the colder season.”

Really need a steady supply of food in general.

“ Alright, alright. I can hear your stomach from here Amb, kind of disgusting actually.” Senfe smiled and tossed her a few thick pieces of meat. “Though you know you would eat more in a guild or gang. You know you’ve got the skill.”

Amberosin shook her head side to side as she scarfed down the first piece, swallowing the last bite slowly while she sucked the flavors out of what remained. She let it linger a moment before responding.

“ I’m not much of a partner Senfe, I’m pretty selfish you know.”

“Yeah you have taken just about anything worth taking in the southern districts, I don’t mind though, jobs up here are easier and pay more.”

“ I only steal what I need, I happen to be still growing you know” Amberosin grinned as she tore into her last piece of meat; Senfe watched her with a blissful smile.

Patri finally managed to stomp over and waited barely a second after Amberosin had finished her jerky before exploding.

“By whichever fuckin’ gods, for the sake of all the Legends…. and orphans of The Fracturin’.. Please let me ‘ave this spot.” The man's voice trembled in a half beg, half threatening sort of way.

She imagined it hurt his pride quite a lot, considering his age had to be at least twice her own, but she couldn’t do it. No matter how much she loved the odd duo, she needed to eat. Maybe if it had been another take, but not this one.

“I’ve got to have the food Pat.”

“Learn ta’ cook ya’ little shit.” His fist clenched tight enough that Patri’s knuckles turned white.

“Ah, see that requires much that I do not have. I think this best, yeah? You can have all the others, I’ll just need this one. For a while.” She liked to see him steam and rave before a little spar but he seemed more incessant this time. It made her tense.

“Ya’ have said that before. Ya’ have again and again.. But still here we are.”

He drew his daggers up to his chest and held them towards her, swaying more than a step. It took the sway for her to realize; his eyes were white, glazed over with signs she knew all too well.

“He’s hooked?” She looked to Senfe who merely shrugged nonchalantly and continued snacking.

“Figured you’d whip his ass into shape better than I can- oh woah.”

Patri charged Amberosin, swinging with rabid intent; one slash high, one slash low, a jab at the neck. His pattern was the same as ever and Amberosin swayed around each strike. Her open palms slapped Patri’s wrists and threw off his balance before she rammed a double fist into his groin. The addled man drooled slightly into his beard and fell to shaken knees but his blank eyes raged at her.

I can feel more! Amberosin could hear her mother singing.

Unable to contain her sudden fury, Amberosin slammed a hard heel into Patri’s temple, sending him face-first into the marble with brutal force. Bleeding from his nose and forehead he rose and immediately started swinging with abandon again. His pattern was the same, though much faster than before, blades nearly kissing her skin more than once.

It helps me focus. Amberosin's mother had always had a reason.

Amberosin dropped low with her foot out and slammed Patri’s ankle as he struck empty air above her, reeling sideways and landing on his stomach. She caught his extended arm as he fell and held it high up above his shoulder, her knee placed on the man’s back to apply pressure.

She felt like snapping it, breaking his arm badly enough he would remember, always, what that poison had gotten him.

“You dare inject the same filth,” she pushed his arm up further, weighing down on her knee with more force, “ that killed my mother,” again she pressed and could hear his bones popping, at their limits, “ and demand my take?” Amberosin released Patri’s arm and slammed his head into the ground.

“Fucking fool.”

She turned and walked the other way for a few steps so he could not see her face scrunch as she fought back burning tears; fist shaking as she raised them to her chest. Patri spat blood from his mouth, smiling like a madman now.

Senfe remained seated on the ground nodding her head in agreement.

“ Waste of good coin, I told him so.”

Patri was up again already.

Amberosin spun left and kicked out, her right foot slamming into the man’s knee with a gratifying pop just before he tackled her. Any other day and he would have buckled from the pain, tumbled to his side, and begged for her mercy but she was weak from lack of eating and Patri was amped up on ‘Synth-Es’.

It helps you escape. That was her favorite “reason”.

Her mother had died with a needle still in her arm. Amberosin had expected the sight for a long time, knew what was coming by what had been before, but that had not made it easier.

She’d never seen what it could do to an essence caster.

Patri, generally hot-headed but kind enough as thieves went, had become a savage being. Essence shone through his skin, highlighting a labyrinth of veins with a soft golden light as the older man stomped full force on his dislocated knee, pivoted, and grabbed Amberosin by her throat. A blue shine traveled up the man’s leg, less bright than golden light. He was healing.

Patri’s eyes were now nearly devoid of a white haze, instead, they swam with a sea of agitated red eels, pulsating in time with his heartbeat.

Shit.

She swore there was a shadow dancing around all that red.

Amberosin held her breath as Patri’s grip tightened and he lifted her to the sky with a mindless smile spread across his suddenly terrifying face. She imagined he was monologuing, congratulating himself on a victory long in the making. She could almost see the exact moment his mind started to play back the reel of every time she’d bested the four-decades-old guild lord. As Patri’s smile faded in the face of his failures Amberosin gave a crazed grin of her own.

Her lungs seethed with fire, throat burned in pure agony as Patri’s shining hand tightened like a vice, her legs dangling above the ground, held by a man who was literally aglow with a vengeance for her.

Amberosin smiled even wider despite the building tears. No more holding back.

Senfe had stood upon seeing the smile on her reddening face but she was far too late. Amberosin swung her legs to one side before flinging them to the other, a sleek gripless blade fell from the back of her tunic and she grasped it instantly. Patri was utterly blindsided when his wrist exploded into a gush of crimson rain, blurring his vision and causing his hand to go limp.

Amberosin slammed her elbow into his gut as she landed, letting out a horrid breath that scorched her lungs before she sucked in a gentle stream to cool them, and promptly stabbed Patri in his thigh. The next breath out saw a quick gash on his wrist, breath in, deep stab into his shoulder; breath out, a shallow cut on his neck.

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She poked him full of holes and watched the essence drain with hefty trails of blood, pooling at the dazed thief's feet. If Patri was lucky, she’d bleed him dry of the filth he’d injected. He was too stunned to retaliate even in his frenzied state, simply stood there bleeding out before finally falling to his knees without a sound. Before he could slam onto his face Senfe caught him and held Patri in her arms like a child, she smiled at Amberosin in a sincere warmth.

“If that doesn’t teach him, I don’t know what will.”

“Thought you’d be a bit.. Upset I went so far. Considering you love him so much.” She smirked at Senfe as she wiped her small blade clean on the pant of her leg.

“Honey,” she grunted as she hoisted the man up higher and turned to leave, “I fuck him. Loving is something different. You take care now Amberosin; always a pleasure.”

“Likewise.”

She saluted the duo lazily and stumbled inside the empty building, fell with her back against the wall, and let a dizzy spell pass her by. It was just getting to be dark out and she had work to do. The young woman drank as much water as she could manage without feeling sick, checked her blades, and left. A simple mark on the inside of the door frame claimed the spot as hers; it would deter most who knew its owner.

Being a newcomer to the city made the merchant an easier mark for her; the merchant was less likely to expect a quick theft his first few days in the fabled ‘Marble City’.

His specializing in food made the take all the more appealing. Amberosin had enough of the trash and scraps she survived on, too afraid to light a fire to cook for herself in the Wilders. Someone could always be watching the edge of her eternal forest, waiting for a chance to prove themselves to Lord White with the head of the last Nomad.

Making Amberosin all the more cautious.

She had made her way into an abandoned building near the incomplete shop and waited until the port markets were ablaze with life. As Solas began her descent, Blancanan shops and stalls exploded into being. Nobles, peasants, travelers, thieves, and far too many guards, littered the port streets. All coming or going in search of their next meal or treasure from afar. Nowhere else did one see such a vast array of people, a horde of variety and color. Lighter skinned Trallens from far north wore their thick leather and fur even in the tepid warmness of the Blancanan night. Bones and teeth lining their garments and dreads, trophies from their fiercest kills.

Native citizens wore their thin, colorful garbs or lavish dress wear adorned in gold. Most sporting some piece of white clothing or aesthetic as an homage to the Grand Councilor. Being that they live in the desert oasis of Blancana they were almost all much darker than any of the Trallens she could see.

New Matria, officially sector three in the White’s Noctra, had few representatives out in heavily guarded areas. Grand Councilor White had decimated Matrius, more out of spite for the Al’ Matri than anything else if word was to be true. None of the original citizens survived. Still, some women of all nationalities, in baby blue robes with quaint hats of the same color could be spotted in small groups.

Uma’ guards had become more common since The Fracturing and people had simply accepted it. They were the White’s ally and that’s what mattered; an ally of The White was an ally of Blancana. Their red paints, large piercings, and fur gauntlets made them look like the badland savages they were rumored to be despite years of captivity and, supposed, domestication. White armbands were all that showed their allegiance.

Amberosin had scouted for hours on end, soaking in the patterns of movement, pinpointing the groups and loners in her mind. Using all the weeks in the month she had left to prepare the best route, the best method to steal her daily bread. Etching guard locations into the very front of her tired brain, she’d set out with hopes of a massive, easy score.

She had often wondered if stealing the key had been worth it over those two weeks she spent starving at the edge of the Wilders. Amberosin had thought herself so clever for openly stealing fruit from a nearby vendor to draw attention away from her actual mark. She had become brazen and excited at the prospects of a good meal.

Amberosin had planned on looping back from the east to the shop late that night after shaking the patrols and pursuers; instead, her adrenaline gave her false courage. With a pack of raving port guards well behind her and more than a few merchants shouting as she sped by, Amberosin ended up going straight through the main street towards the furthest southern district, towards what she had left of home.

She’d underestimated the veracity, and quality, of Port security.

Mere seconds after she had sprinted away from the fruit carts, ducked guards, and sidestepped many colorful citizens, chuckling to herself all the while, a platoon of White’s soldiers came marching down the street before her. Amberosin knew the southern patrols by heart and knew they traveled in groups no larger than twelve, never with a captain or masked Legend. The port itself usually saw groups of fifteen, sometimes a captain, sometimes not, according to her prior scouting at least. Nearly thirty fully armored guards stood before her as she rounded that first corner in her grandiose “escape”; her planning and impeccable timing be damned.

The man leading the mass of guards sent crippling chills down her spine, for Amberosin recognized his large, smooth mask, shaped like a teardrop atop his shoulders, pure white with gold lines running along the side. Staring her down from not three quick strides away was the bastard son of Councillor White.

Mezir De Blancana.

The most recent memory she held of Mezir was him hanging Ragoth’s still warm body beside her mother’s in the square and walking away to a roar of approval. Amberosin knew she could only do so much with her daggers, once again tucked neatly into the back of her tunic. She knew that she definitely could not take down thirty soldiers on her own and there was no way Amberosin could hope to stand against Mezir, even on her best day.

Soldiers from the market had circled her in from behind and stood with weapons drawn. Most seemed more than flustered, obviously upset a young hooligan had escaped their pitiful pursuit and ran directly into their superior.

Not a good look.

Muscles in her cheek tugged at cracked lips as the young woman settled into the comfort of her training, crouching slowly with eyes cast down, round, shaded goggles always on. Amberosin moved quickly and viciously, hoping to be a blur. Dashing from side to side, erratically closing in on him, she moved fast enough to make the first few soldiers behind him jump and raise their shields out of pure instinct. A frightened gasp from one widened her grin to a maddening degree.

Amberosin feigned one last left step and shot right with her fist forward.

In time with her fist rising to meet the bottom of Mezir’s mask she lifted her legs and prepared to spring off his heavily armored chest. Putting enough spin on the punch would help her to turn, setting up for a beautiful lunge over the disgraced market guards who had started to run over, hoping for some meager redemption. It should have been a soaring spectacle where she would pelt the stolen fruit into the nearest guards awestruck face, flee into the many crevices and alleyways of Blancana, and feast handsomely by night’s end.

Only the spinning uppercut never met Mezir’s teardrop mask.

Amberosin’s highly trained legs never touched his bulky, pristine armor; never sprang her into jaw-dropping action. Instead, they snapped outwards, down, against only air, and went painfully limp as her knees threatened to flee from her body with nauseating cracks.

Whoever had caught her truly had impeccable timing… and gargantuan fingers.

Dangling above the ground at her full-length Amberosin could only see the market guard ahead of her; knowing full well her captor was holding her where Mezir could see his attacker. The hand holding Amberosin absolutely belonged to an Alta.

A gigantic double-coated hand with thick orange dreads that hung below Amberosin's trapped forearm spun her around confirming what she already knew. No normal person squeezed hard enough to draw the blood that ran down Amberosin’s captured arm, or moved fast enough to get the jump on her.

Mezir stood unfazed with his hands at his sides, his masked face mere inches from her own, confident in his own safety. Amberosin wondered if he was even looking at her under there.

“Sir. She’s a tiny one.” The towering orange Alta, who sported a surprisingly human face, sniffed the air next to her hair and snorted, “And a bit…ripe I should say.. uh, Sir.” Her meager smile revealed huge, dagger-like teeth on the bottom jaw. The Alta woman’s extremely human eyes scanned Amberosin relentlessly for more than a moment, injecting a frostbitten terror into her veins that numbed everything beneath her thin tunic.

She recognized hunger when she saw it.

“Likely homeless, by the smell of things.” The Alta scoffed and looked to Mezir. Rather than feel insulted, Amberosin was relieved.

No one wants a stinking meal.

Besides, there was no point in taking offense to the truth.

“Or” came a soft, even voice from behind the teardrop mask, “just a far way from home.” Mezir’s voice lacked any passion and any levity was painfully forced.

It seemed time had taken some things from him as well.

“You.” Mezir nodded towards the nearest market guard, a middle-aged man with sea-worn skin and pale green eyes who jolted to attention.

“Uh, Fernwick sir.” He shifted into an awkward bow eliciting chuckles and odd stares from his peers, his face flushed red as he stood. Amberosin’s blood dropped down onto the flawless marble road, though she went largely unnoticed now, hanging like ripped cloth in the wind.

“Fernwick. What are her crimes exactly?”

“Theft and evasion. Sir.” The now beet red guard nodded to the fruit still in her free hand. “Not much theft, mind you, but a helluva evasion.”

Mezir’s masked head moved gently from side to side as he looked over all the guards.

“I should say so since the whole district seems to be here.”

A lightly forced chuckle from most the market security seemed to alleviate the tension a bit. Amberosin felt the grip on her wrist loosen ever so slightly; any more and she could do it. No one looked her way now.

Again that forced, flat tone came from behind the mask.

“Ah, you all go on. My men will cover your stations the rest of the night,” no one else seemed to notice the act, but she could hear something, some strain.

Angry are we, Mezzie?

“ We’ll handle this, heading to the Port Station anyways. Thank you for your service today.” Mezir shooed them away with a gentle wave.

A casual two-fingered salute in return and they were off, Fernwick once more at the front of the pack. No doubt glad to be out of Mezir’s eyesight.

Mezir’s masked head slightly tilted in her direction once more and she wondered if he were scanning her or merely looking through her. Not knowing gave Amberosin a sense of dread she hoped she instilled in the guards before her. With her own eyes covered they had no sense of her true intentions.

Not even the Alta could have been prepared.

“Alright, Heria, why don’t yo-”

Mezir’s voice was cut off as a soldier yelled in shock.

Heria’s massive double-coated arm was streaming in blood from the wrist and Amberosin was already disappearing down an alley to the left by the time the Alta woman even realized it was her own pool of absolute red splattering against the white marble. Amberosin didn’t look back but she heard a large group of guards pursuing her. Slamming into vagrants and shadows of the alley, a few of the guard’s even tried to mimic her two-step jump to the roofs above, though their heavy armor and poor agility allowed her to escape to safety.

She smiled thinking of when Ragoth taught her that little trick as she soared from one abode to the next, quickly making it to the southern district. A dwindling group of guards still pursued her, giving chase all the way to the border wall, driving her back into the Wilder’s before ever turning back.

Southern guards were hardly so determined.

Amberosin then had a key to a shop she didn’t know if she would be able to reach again. As such, Amberosin settled on the fact that she just must have shit luck.

That was until the bandaged stranger startled her in the Wilders.

Amberosin had been trying to repair tears in her shoddy tent when she saw the bandaged man picking through cianic berries, digging in the teeming underbrush, and draining sap from wilder-trees. Only a shade to her through the lush thicket of Wilder initially, the man moved with inane speed. He plucked bright green leaves from one spot, then another, moving with fluid confidence as he dropped them into one of two leather pouches.

He moved on pure instinct.

Amberosin had been awestruck, staring with mouth agape from a semi-crouched position, hidden in the shadows of a nearby tree. She could only make out a hooded outline through the thick foliage and her eyesight was nearly perfect, so she felt safe moving closer to get a better look at her intruder. Careful not to move any branch too far one way or another Amberosin had set forth only to feed her curiosity. Her heart pounded as she painstakingly matched her steps to the undulating winds, covering any noise she may create in the rustle of Noctra’s massive, mysterious forest. She was eternally thankful her bleeding had subsided almost entirely and no random pains wracked her body.

Amberosin’s eyes were so set on the foraging shadow that she nearly tripped in a small animal’s den and had to slam all her weight down at once to soften the sound. Fortunately, the wind picked up speed just as she hit and the shadow did not cease his impressive work. She hesitated for a moment before taking a chance by moving a large group of branches, clearing her view of the intruder.

Whatever it was Amberosin had been expecting when she pulled back the thick foliage, it surely was not a man wrapped completely in colorful bandages and what she swore was dreadbeast skin as a cloak. A brief thought crossed her mind to steal it but Amberosin decided against it upon seeing the man’s two blades and hands of metal that floated an inch or so above smooth wrists.

Probably didn’t get the hide by asking nicely.

She found herself most intrigued by the lack of eye holes in his bandages and wondered what the slight bump on the left could be; put together with the metal hands, Amberosin assumed there was some more framework under there. Regardless, it made sense to assume that a man who hid his face didn’t much like talking to other people; so the starving Amberosin stayed hidden and watched the stranger collect and forage in ways she’d never seen.

The armed stranger was grabbing herbs and roots for healing, poison, and Legends knew what else. A purple flower with red veins found its way to his hand and she knew for a fact that it was poisonous, just not to what degree. This didn’t tell her much, but it did tell her one very important thing; he was preparing to cause trouble.

Trouble was terribly convenient for a hollow bellied thief like herself who needed an easy way into a heavily guarded district. Gathering that she’d be heading into the walls behind the stranger soon enough, she began her own ritual. Amberosin slowly picked up a few things here and there, eventually mixing around some ground dirt and cherry red bark with water to make a salve. Silently crouched with burning thighs all the while. Keeping eyes on the stranger at all times, Amberosin gingerly applied the salve to the ever tender scar set upon her right cheek, shaped like a sharp-tipped mountain turned upside down; the mark of a Non-Es. A branding she had to keep hidden to survive, Amberosin knew what it would mean for her if anyone were to recognize it.

Two hours after Amberosin first spotted the armed bandaged man he finally made his move toward the city border. Amberosin feared more than once her salve may start running from sweating and her muscles ached from crouching for so long. She was more than relieved when he moved toward the main road. Amberosin sighed and stretched with quiet groans of pleasure until every muscle sighed along with her. Satisfied, she then watched for the man’s shadow to disappear. She waited ten minutes before exiting the exact spot in the street the bandaged stranger had left, intent on tracking him and capitalizing as soon he caused a scene.

Upon reaching the main road she found a small pouch with a few berries and tonics left out in the open; she recognized it instantly as the stranger’s second pouch.

He knew she had been watching.

Amberosin’s face flushed at the thought that she could have been standing all the while.

What a bastard. She smiled.

It took fifteen more minutes of walking before she caught sight of the hooded man in Luna’s cool and calm light. From where she stood he looked more shade than man, but Amberosin could still make him out well enough to see the moment he crossed into the open Southern Border. This was further from her destination than she would have preferred, though Amberosin held out hope that he would cause a big enough scene to warrant Northern Port guards to abandon their posts. Relying on her newfound luck she moved forward with the merchant’s key placed securely in the gifted pouch attached to her side.

Having seen the young bandaged man purposely draw attention by standing in the torchlight below the towers, she strayed from his course and bounded over a broken border farther east. Amberosin thanked Luna for illuminating her path as a peaceful sheen seemed to light every foothold and rooftop she desired on her way to the Northern Districts. She passed guards unaware of her presence from high up while she could but as Amberosin neared the ports, spaces between buildings became larger and roofs taller. The bandaged stranger had attracted a small group of soldiers that rushed down the main street, towards Blancana’s border, their armor clanking as one yelled at another to turn around.

Amberosin wanted to stop, to go see what was happening, but her stomach growling like a rabid beast begged her onwards. Knowing she would likely return to find his corpse being drug away, Amberosin wished the man luck and kept silently on her path.

Her feast awaited.