Chapter 11: The Final Feast

Light spears through the broken roof of the ruined palace we hide in, alighting on the map etched in the dust at our feet. It's crude—just some lines for the twisting caverns below, circles for us and the encroaching forces of General Lorentine—but the trouble we’re in is clear. The cracked floor is gritty under my worn boots, all that’s left now of what were once fine fabrics and lavish furnishings fit for royalty.

"We've come so far," I say, more thinking aloud than anything. “Almost made it.”

Olly leans over to get a better look at the makeshift map, his shadow merging with mine on the smudged ground. "We've always managed to slip away before though, right?" he says, attempting optimism that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "We’ll find a way out of this mess, same as always."

I don’t respond. I can't bring myself to voice the doubts that have taken root inside me, growing stronger with each passing moment spent hunkered down in this crumbling ruin.

Nearby, Lika approaches Balen, who is staring at the ancient stone walls, lost in thought as his calloused fingers trace over the deep scars and cracks that mark the once-pristine surface. "What if we end up like this place?" Balen says. "Forgotten. Just a broken relic from the past."

Lika just shrugs, the movement slight in her petite frame. When she speaks, it’s the longest sentence I’ve heard from her yet since we began this ill-fated journey together. "Who cares if we’re remembered or not after all this? They’ll remember what we changed, so by the six let's bloody change something."

I blink, a bit surprised by the uncharacteristic philosophising from silent Lika. Didn’t take her for a poet.

Beside me, Olly kneels down and opens his pack, the soft rustling of fabric and gentle clink of his provisions breaking the heavy silence that has settled over our ragged band of fugitives. “We should really eat something,” Olly says, to try to lift the mood. “Keep our strength up.”

I almost shake my head, wanting to tell him that we don’t have time for sitting down for a leisurely meal, not when General Lorentine and his forces could decide to stop playing this drawn-out game of cat-and-mouse and swoop in to lay waste to us at any moment. But then I catch the glint of hope still left in Olly’s eyes and bite my tongue. What’s the harm in letting my friend enjoy one last bit of normalcy before the end? One final meal shared among comrades.

Olly gestures for Tomas and Meli to join us. “You two should eat as well. Come on, let's get some food in our bellies and maybe we'll get inspired with some brilliant plan to get us out of this mess.”

The twins shake their heads, their faces drawn and eyes downcast. But Olly is persistent, stubborn as a camel demanding fresh dates, and Tomas and Meli relent with dual sighs and come sit with us. I notice they're quieter than usual, subdued. Thinking about one's own looming mortality tends to have that effect.

Olly passes out portions of our meagre rations to each of us. When he gets to me, he chucks me a small, fabric-wrapped parcel. Inside are some dried strips of unidentifiable jerky, and I think better of asking what creature it came from. The meat is tough and bland, requiring vigorous chewing just to choke it down. But I focus on the repetitive motion of working my jaw, using it as a distraction to keep the worry churning in my gut at bay.

Ever the buoyant spirit, Olly attempts to lighten the mood. "Remember how Elwin used to always insist that soaking these things in a bit of water would make them taste like a five-course feast fit for the Sovereign himself?" A wistful grin tugs at Olly's lips as he chews on his own portion of dried mystery meat.

Elwin had been the first real friend we had made out in the world beyond the cesspit streets we had grown up in—an old man with more grey than red left in his bushy beard who had taken us under his worn wing when we were homeless youths with more bravado than brains. We still make the little workshop he left behind our home. “Every morning, without fail, that stubborn old geezer would plop his ration into this grimy pot of water—the same funky water day in and day out too, never even thought to change it,” Olly says, his voice bringing the memory to life. “‘Deepens the flavour!’ he’d say. Couldn’t convince the codger otherwise.”

Despite themselves, Tomas and Meli both have the barest hints of amusement twitching at the corners of their mouths. Balen chuckles, a low rumbling sound, as he opens his own meagre portion of dried mystery meat. "Met Lika the day before we set off on this trip. She tried to convince me that sprinkling a pinch of dust and dirt from the street would 'add an earthy complexity to the taste,'” Balen says with a wry twist to his lips. His gaze meets Lika's, and I see a shared spark of mirth and knowing pass between them.

Lika rolls her eyes but can't keep a hint of a smile from turning up the corners of her mouth, bringing a touch of warmth that crinkles the skin around her eyes. "Oh please, as if your attempt was any less ridiculous, Balen,” she volleys back. “I seem to recall you insisting that ‘a little heat from my essence would grill it nicely.' Nearly turned the whole pile to ash!" A rare breath of laughter dances past Lika's lips, mingling with the deep rumble of Balen's own chuckles.

Seeing the stern pair trading amused barbs is surreal.

Tomas and Meli exchange an inscrutable glance between themselves, some unspoken communication flickering in the air. They add a few half-hearted chuckles of their own to the mix, but I can see the mirth doesn't quite reach their eyes. Meli takes a small, reluctant bite of her jerky, chewing slowly as though lost in thought.

"I suppose we just need to use our imagination more to make this stuff edible," Meli muses after swallowing with effort. "Pretend it's the most amazing thing we've ever eaten." Her words aim for levity, but her gaze remains fixed on the ground, shoulders slumped in defeat.

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Tomas nods, attempting to play along. "Ah well in that case, this must be the Sovereign's most prized delicacy, hand-prepared by the finest chef in all of Amenion," he says feigned grandeur.

We continue trying to outdo one another by coming up with the most outlandish culinary recommendations and imaginary seasonings to transform our uninspiring travel rations into feasts fit for royalty. For a brief span, the oppressive dread of our current predicament lifts, replaced by the comforting warmth of camaraderie and nostalgia for simpler times now lost to us.

But too soon, the last bites are consumed, and I look once more to the crudely sketched map at our feet. "We're going to need to come up with something the General will never anticipate if we want to have any hope of getting out of this," I say, drawing the others' gazes back to lines in the dust.

Still standing beside me, Olly leans in, brow furrowed in thought. "You're thinking about unleashing the Void beast, aren't you?" he asks, his hushed voice tinged with both trepidation and hint of excitement. "It's unpredictable, dangerous even…but if we could turn it against Lorentine..." Olly trails off, imagination churning behind his eyes.

Across from us, Lika shifts, unease written across her delicate features as she chews at her lower lip. "Playing with volatile magic we can't control seems risky though. That thing is pure chaos given form. How can we hope to direct that toward our enemies without it turning right back on us?" She crosses her arms, staring at me intently.

Balen speaks up then, cracking his thick knuckles together loudly in the silence—I’m learning it’s a habit. "A bit of chaos aimed at Lorentine is what we need," he says with a rumbling growl. "Let the damned beast tear through his ranks. We turn it loose like the dust storm of destruction it is and let Lorentine choke on it." He slams a meaty fist into his open palm, relishing the thought.

Then Tomas reaches into the folds of his tattered cloak and pulls out a timeglass, faded and chipped with age. Its sudden presence here draws all of our eyes, a sense of foreboding settling over me as he places the timekeeper atop a broken column near our circle and flips it over. The sands within begin their steady descent, each grain marking another second lost to us.

"What's with the hourglass?" I hear the question slip unbidden past my lips, fueled by the creeping sense of dread welling up inside me.

Meli answers without meeting my gaze, her own eyes locked onto the falling sands. "It's a reminder that time's no longer on our side in this," she says softly. There is a ring of finality to her words, an undercurrent of resignation that sends a chill down my spine.

I glance around at the faces of my comrades, taking in the determination that hardens Balen and Lika's expressions, the fear in Olly's eyes, the grim acceptance haunting Tomas and Meli's hollow stares.

"If we do this, we need to plan it out perfectly," I say, breaking the heavy silence. "Using the Void beast isn't like any other gambit we've tried. The thing's pure chaos, unpredictable. We get one chance, and if we mess it up..." I trail off, the unspoken conclusion hanging ominously in the air.

Olly nods, the ever-present optimism dimmed. "Right, so the beast is drawn to essence, yes? That can be our bait to lure it. But we'll need to ensure it goes after Lorentine's forces and not us."

"We could set up a trail of essence leading away from us and toward the enemy," Lika suggests pensively. "Small drops to create a path for it to follow, laid down at the last possible second before we unleash it. Timing is critical, and we can't afford even a speck getting on us or we'll end up its first targets."

Balen grunts in agreement. "Aye, and we'll need some sort of distraction for Lorentine's men, keep their attention occupied as we spring our trap." His dark eyes glint keenly. "Can't have them noticing what we've got planned and mucking it up. They need to be caught unaware when the beast comes for them."

I take in their points, turning over the risky strategy in my mind. "Alright, so precise timing and flawless execution are key if we want this to work. We lay the essence trail, keep Lorentine distracted, then set the beast loose right on top of his forces before immediately making our escape in the chaos." I meet each of their gazes in turn. "But we'll also need an exit strategy prepared upfront. If this all goes sideways, we can't afford to be trapped as easy pickings for Lorentine or the Void beast."

The crumbling ruins around us absorb our hushed words into their ancient stones, bearing mute witness to the desperation of our scheme. Resolve settles through me. We have no other options left but this mad gambit.

"We'll use the beast." The words pass my lips before I can second-guess them, solidifying our course. "We stay light on our feet and adapt as needed."

I wonder how many other choices were debated and decided within these very ruins, how many desperate plans were forged in the shadows of this abandoned palace. Perhaps even the fateful strategy that ultimately led to the annihilation of the great civilization these relics are all that remain of was first birthed right here, where we now stand.

And yet, as I look around at the ragtag group that circumstance has made my allies - refugees and outcasts, the overlooked and underestimated - I cannot silence the voice of uncertainty in my mind. The hourglass, Meli's cryptic words, Tomas's watchful silence - it all feels like parts of a puzzle we do not fully grasp.

"We're in this together, to the end," I say, trying to convince myself as much as them. But the crumbling ruins around us mocks the sentiment, standing as they do as monuments to even the greatest alliances and edifices eventually turning to dust. Still, as the final grains of sand slip away in the hourglass, I cannot shake the ominous feeling that we will not all live to see the resolution of this desperate gambit.

Hunkered down amid the remnants of past glory, our plan feels less like a strategy and more the last desperate throes of the doomed. Tomas's hourglass continues to steadily count down, a grim reminder that time, our most precious resource now, is slipping away with each grain that falls.

Tomas and Meli have their heads bent close as they whisper. They cut off when they notice me looking over. It's been like this since we took shelter here, furtive looks followed by hushed conferences that end the moment I draw near. It sets my nerves on edge, warning bells sounding in my mind that I've tried my best to ignore, trying to focus on the threat of Lorentine. But no longer.

My voice bounces off the stone walls around us. "What's with all the secrecy between you two lately?" I hadn't meant for it to come out so confrontational, but there’s no room for dancing around it.

Tomas and Meli exchange a heavy, meaningful look that sends a ripple of unease through me. Meli sighs. "Suppose there's no point hiding it anymore," she says, not quite meeting my eyes. "We should just tell them and get it over with."

Tomas gives a solemn nod of agreement, his expression grim. "They have a right to know at this point."

A tense knot forms in the pit of my stomach. "Tell us what exactly?" Olly asks from beside me, voicing the question I cannot seem to form.

Silence hangs over us. Then Meli speaks, her voice steady even as her eyes betray an inner conflict. "Lorentine sent us to infiltrate your group and make sure none of you make it out of here alive."