Gabriel recoiled from the grim tableau before him, each retreating step deepening his sense of desolation. The library, once alive with joy and laughter, was now silenced by the weight of tragedy, its stillness tainted by the metallic tang of blood. Expected dizziness from such a grisly scene eluded him. For once his body held firm against the horror.

Emotions surged within him, more tumultuous than the eye of a storm. The sharp bite of the coldest midwinter could never pierce him as deeply. The warmth of life seemed an impossible dream, unreachable even by the gentle touch of a summer breeze. For Gabriel, the hopeful blossoms of spring would remain forever out of reach, trapped in the perpetual gloom of the fall; the season of decay.

Releasing his hold, the knife clattered to the ground next to Janus. His once stalwart guardian now lay unnaturally still. Desperation seized Gabriel as he knelt, silently pleading for a sign of life within Janus. But such hopes were brutally snuffed out. Janus had sacrificed everything for Gabriel's safety. It was a debt he could never repay. His gaze, now steely, settled on the incapacitated attacker, blood tracing his aborted escape. A visceral urge for vengeance consumed Gabriel.

With resolute intent, he retrieved his knife and loomed imposingly over the adversary that had taken Janus’s life. Taking hold of the nameless man’s damp hair, he jerked the face upwards, forcing their gazes to lock. Within those widened yet glassy orbs, there was a haunting void—a lack of understanding, as if the man hadn't yet grasped the finality of the destiny awaiting him.

"For Janus," Gabriel whispered before swiftly slashing the man's throat. He stepped back, an icy detachment settling over him as he watched life drain away. The weight of two lives taken by his hand pressed heavily upon him. I would do it again.

Reaching inside his tunic, Gabriel felt the place where the attacker's blade should have found flesh. From within, he extracted a solid object. Tunklard’s gifted book. Its once immaculate cover now bore a gash, a testament to the blade it had halted and the life it had saved. Without wielding a weapon, his friend had protected him. A faint smile of irony graced his lips, but it disappeared just as quickly, leaving only a deep-set pain.

Moving toward his mother, he wrapped her tenderly in his arms, fervently yearning for this grim reality to be just a fleeting nightmare. Within that embrace, the immutable connection between a mother and her child glinted ever brightly. Even in her stillness, her warmth served as a poignant reminder of a comfort he'd forever miss. Drawing away, a solitary tear traced his cheek, a precursor to the forthcoming deluge of grief.

With unwavering resolve, Gabriel understood the pressing need to disappear. His enemies would soon be on his trail. It seemed a miracle they hadn't yet detected the commotion. However, their imminent arrival was inevitable, and when they did, Gabriel’s fate would be sealed. Swiftly, he secured Janus's fallen dagger and its sheath, then pocketed his mother's blade, positioning it close to the safeguarding tome that rested against his increasingly anxious heart.

I must go to Balatia, to King Saxton. I’ll do this for Ma, in her memory. How do I escape though?

Fatigue rolled over Gabriel like a relentless tide, sapping him of strength. It wasn't mere physical weariness; it felt as though his very essence was being drained away. The fiery zeal that had fueled him during the earlier confrontation had vanished, replaced by a pervasive lethargy.

His eyes wandered across the room. It had always been his refuge, a haven of peace and elegance. But now, the very stones seemed to mourn, mirroring his own profound grief. Though he was intimately familiar with every nook of this room, certain that no secret escape routes existed; desperation compelled him to scour it once more.

His search came up empty. Gabriel's gaze landed on the stained-glass windows, which had often enraptured him with their artistry. Only a handful were crafted to open, and they were so tightly sealed that no one could wriggle through. He was cautious about breaking them. Not merely because he wished to maintain the room's sanctity amidst the evening's chaos, but also out of fear that the resulting clamor would attract unwanted notice.

With trepidation, he tried prying apart the conjoined windows, bound by robust metal links. Even in the absence of those chains, the gap looked confining. Growing impatient, he swung the dagger at the chain, but the jarring screech of metal that ensued was distressingly loud. A repeat would undoubtedly betray his position.

He hurried to the first assailant he felled, cutting a piece of the black cloak that draped over the man's light armor with his dagger. He then retrieved the dead man's sword and returned to the window. Gabriel wrapped the chain using the thick cloth he’d just cut.

His mind darted back to the melee, craving that inexplicable burst of energy, that heightened awareness he'd experienced. He beckoned it, craving its power, but it remained tantalizingly out of reach. Holding the blade was now a struggle, its heaviness amplified by his fatigue. Mustering all his strength, he raised the sword, letting its own mass guide the descent as it clashed against the chain. The muted clink echoed in the room, causing the window to tremble in response.

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Carefully, Gabriel leaned out the window, scanning the vast expanse below and around. To his surprise, the grounds seemed devoid of any guards or signs of alerted presence. But when he directed his gaze downward, a surge of fear coursed through him. Though he knew of the library's towering height, confronting its sheer drop was another matter entirely. A headlong leap could spell doom.

Gabriel edged himself through the window with cautious deliberation, conscious of the perilous drop beneath the parapet. The wind, chilling and relentless, seemed to target his already shaky knees, as if conspiring with the darkness to test his mettle. The world spun for a brief moment, the heights vertigo threatening his determination.

The castle’s exterior lay in deceptive serenity, an unnerving contrast to the chaos unfolding within its walls. Further away, lights twinkled from manors and homes, oblivious to the night's tragedy. A pang of fear for their futures echoed in his heart.

Desperation urged him to seek a safer descent, but his prospects appeared bleak. His gaze locked onto a balcony one floor below. It beckoned with promise, but also peril. The jump would be a gamble with death. Yet, in this desperate hour, it seemed the only card he had left to play.

Pausing, he glanced back one last time. "Thank you, Janus," the weight of his gratitude clear in every syllable. Then his gaze fixed on the other still form. "I love you, Ma. You deserved so much more."

Gabriel focused on his breathing, attempting to center himself amidst the whirlwind of emotions and uncertainty. In, out, in, out. With every inhale, he tried to draw in courage; with every exhale, he released fear. Then, mustering all the resolve he could find, he leapt. For an agonizing heartbeat, he felt suspended in mid-air, gravity seeming to forget him. Panic whispered in his ear, suggesting he had misjudged the distance, that he'd overshoot the balcony below. But as these thoughts flitted through his mind, his feet met solid ground.

The force of the landing jolted through him, sending shockwaves of pain up his limbs. His knees threatened to betray him, and his shoulder smashed into the balustrade, preventing him from falling over the edge. A pained grunt forced its way out as he tried to recover, assessing his injuries. Although the impact was brutal, he was still functional.

But his reprieve was short-lived. Another challenge loomed — a heart-stopping drop straight to the ground. Without balconies to break his fall or crevices to slow his descent, his options seemed painfully limited. With determination battling against the ever-present fear, he approached the balustrade once more, draping himself over it, hands gripping its cold edge.

A brief, paralyzing moment of doubt washed over him as he dangled. A fleeting wish to pull himself back to safety. But the cruel reality dawned: he lacked the strength to climb back up and there was no safety. With no other path forward, he let go, free-falling to the courtyard below.

The ground came rushing towards him, and he instinctively extended his hands to break the fall, absorbing some of the punishing impact. Sharp pain shot up through his legs as he made contact, a harsh reminder of the desperate lengths he'd gone to escape.

Hugging the walls, Gabriel limped onward, favoring his left foot to bear the brunt of his weight. Every whisper of sound set his nerves on edge, making his heart race. Even the most subtle of noises morphed into potential dangers in his heightened state of alert, drawing him deeper into the comforting embrace of the shadows.

The weight of despair pressed on him, urging him to surrender, but he pushed back. He couldn’t afford to break now. The main gate was a glaring trap; undoubtedly, they'd be searching for him there. Scaling the castle walls and navigating the labyrinthine city streets were equally fraught with danger. Hiding inside a carriage was no solution either, as they would be meticulously searched. Above ground held too many risks; he had to go underneath. One option crystallized in his mind.

His gaze darted around, methodically scanning the castle's expanse for a very particular landmark. He became a fleeting shadow himself, flitting from one concealed spot to another, minimizing his silhouette against the moonlit night. At long last, his eyes caught what he had been desperately seeking. A metal grate set inconspicuously at the base of a wall. An access point into the sewer.

From Tunklard, Gabriel had once gleaned information about the city's underground sewer system. It seemed like a trivial detail, but now it held the potential to be his lifeline. This subterranean network efficiently funneled waste away from the castle, disposing of it beyond the city's confines. While it wasn't intricate, there was a primary conduit. Gabriel assumed it began at the castle itself. Several offshoots connected the system to noble manors in the eastern quadrant. If I stick to the widest tunnel, that should be the primary route which will lead me away to safety. I just hope I can fit inside it.

Kneeling, he quickly cleared away the accumulated dirt, uncovering an aged metal cover, its surface corroded by time. He tugged at the heavy lid, trying to use pure force to open it, but it remained steadfast. Weariness had drained him, and the strength he yearned for remained elusive. Yet he wasn't out of options.

Drawing the dagger from his belt, its blade now tainted a deep crimson, he positioned its tip into a gap on the cover's edge. Using the handle for leverage, he pushed downwards. The dagger, serving as a makeshift lever, slowly forced the lid to budge. As the gap widened, a soft metallic pop resonated in the still night, filling Gabriel with dread. He paused, heart in his throat, hoping the sound hadn't drawn unwanted attention.

Peering into the newly revealed passage, he saw a narrow drop, its darkness permeated by the musty aroma of decay and stagnant water. Though the entrance would be restrictive for most, it was just spacious enough for him. Gathering his courage and taking a fortifying breath, Gabriel carefully began his descent into the city's underbelly.