The Crowned Road spanned all the way from Lowry to Blightham. Though halfway through their journey, Soren took a small dirt path towards the west. It was surrounded by trees on all sides, the branches hung low. Tucken bobbed and weaved in his seat trying to keep himself from being taken out by twigs. It didn’t seem as high trafficked as the Crowned Road. The dirt had many tracks of wheels and Kelgrif hooves, but they seemed weathered and worn.
Tucken could tell Soren had been here many times in his past. He took the winding dirt path with ease, dodging rocks and trees as if he had seen them a thousand times before. This was no temporary hideout, this was a safe house for him.
“Soren?” Tucken asked turning towards the rugged rebel beside him, curiously.
“Yeah?” Soren answered halfheartedly as he kept his eyes locked on the dirt path ahead.
“I was wondering…Well, we have been on the road for a day and a half now and yet I still don’t know where we are heading.”
“You’ll know soon enough.” Soren answered as he sharply turned around a hollow tree. Plumes of steam sputtered out the back like a wheezing old man.
“Well, with this much canned food, are we maybe going to a bunker of some sort?” Tucken began to guess, trying his best to narrow down the location.
“No.” Again Soren answered coldly.
“Maybe a cabin, like the one Ginn had?”
“Nope.”
“Ah, I see a rebel encampment, hidden in the woods!”
“Are you really doing this?” Soren finally turned to Tucken, who already after a day looked shaggier than when they met two days ago.
“It seems so.” Tucken said with a cocky grin. Soren already didn’t like how comfortable Tucken seemed to be getting.
“Welp, you picked a bad time to get childish.” Soren said pointing back to the road. “Your answers in front of you.” Up ahead beside the road stood a quaint little sign, perfectly shaped by a carpenter's hand and painted with warm coloring. The sign read: “Welcome, Friends to our small village of Dunton!”
“Little much for such a small sign, don’t you think?” Tucken said with curiosity stewing in his mind.
“They’re good people here. Hard workers. Luckily the Arkins haven’t caused to many problems for them yet.” Soren said slowly the car down as they came closer to a small farm at the edge of town.
“I’ve heard of Dunton, an old colleague of mine wrote about them once. It was a piece on agriculture and the people who keep the Territory fed. The Arkins don’t really see them as a big threat, not to many people for them to worry about an uprising here, plus they don’t supply that much to Huxwell like Lowry or Falmis to care about keeping the peace much. It’s insignificant in the Tiso’s eyes.”
“Exactly what we need.” Soren said pulling up to the small farmhouse. “Never underestimate the power of insignificance, Tucken.” Soren said, with a soft smile beginning to grow along his face.
Tucken began to smell the sweet scent of a fresh peach pie as they lingered outside. Soren went to the back of the buggy, maneuvering around the hot steam engine and picking up a crate of canned food from the back. Suddenly a giddy squeal erupted from the farmhouse and two figures burst from its door, rushing as fast as they could to Soren.
“The FarWithers!” Soren called out in pure joy to the pair.
They were an older gentleman and his wife. The man had a very thin hair, but just enough to comb back. His stomach was round, but Tucken could tell it was due to the woman beside him stuffing him with pastries of all sorts. His arms were thickened by large muscles from working the small field outside that grew wheat and corn.
The older gentleman’s wife was a tiny old woman that even from a distance, Tucken could see held a kind smile that seemed to be part of her resting face. The older woman rushed as best she could toward the grizzly rebel with a giddy impatience as the man tried his best to keep up.
“Hello FarWithers!” Soren yelled out with a true and deep laugh.
The old woman gave him a as tight of a hug as she could with her frail arms before holding his cheeks. “You need real food, good food.” She said with a playful palm slap. “You’re looking too slim.”
“This is my, companion, Tucken.” Soren said changing the subject from his lack of a stomach. The farmer pair looked to the tall, and lanky man holding a crate of cans.
“Ma’am, Sir.” Tucken said nervously nodding to both.
“Allow me!” The older man said taking the crate of cans from the slim Tucken.
“Otock.” Soren said pointing to the older man as he carried the crate inside.
“Come in, dear you look slimmer than, sweet Soren here!” The wife said gripping Tucken by his hand and pulling him toward the door.
“And Oma FarWither, you’ll love them!” Soren said following the two as she dragged lanky man into the small home.
“Ma'am you have shown your fine baking well, I am truly stuffed!” Tucken said, trying his best to kindly plead for mercy as Oma pulled out another one of her baked goods and asked him to “Just taste it.” Tucken felt as if he may have died on the ground in Huxwell and was living in a kind, kind of hell with a smiling and sweet demon, or maybe this was the “Void” The Rel’s were always praising and talking about.
The room itself seemed like reality though. It was a small kitchen, but it was enough for a tiny old woman to make do in. the cabinets and center island seemed hand carved with small imperfections that were painted over in white. The window drapes were hand stitched and looked rather dusty. Behind Tucken was a wicker shelf full of fresh produce from the garden outside the window. Beside the wicker shelf was the door to the lounging room with the heads of animals that came close to Otock’s field of crops. The mounted heads of wild kelgrif and Fog Cats, surrounded a large, tusked boar with fur colored dark green and gold.
It was a creature he fought against for years. He would tell the tale to every rebel that Soren passed through with. The tale of Ol ’Baxley. The ferocious beast that attacked his fields and killed his mounts. Otock and Ol ’Baxley fought on several occasions. He would leave Baxley with a limp, and Otock would leave with a scar, Baxley would leave with a scar and Otock would leave with a broken arm. It was a never-ending battle. Until one day Otock had enough and hunted him through the woods for a day and a half, until they fought under the shining, cold moon. At the end of their battle Oma watched through the window as Otock painted a trail of crimson behind him through the field and spent the rest of the night creating Ol ’Baxley into the mount that hung now on his wall.
Otock and Soren stared up at the wild-eyed beast as Otock packed his pipe and stroke his match along his boot. “Good kid.” He said as he gnawed on the stem of his pipe and gave a nod over to the kitchen toward Tucken. “So ya found yourself a partner after all this time? Someone to keep ya in check, eh?”
“He is carrying what’s possibly the most important documents of our time. Nothing more.” Soren said with an annoyed expression.
“Really now?” Otock grinned. “A city boy holds the most fragile documents there is, no callous on his fingers at all and you decide not to take them off his hands?” Otock gave a deep chuckle. With every breath out came a thick plume of smoke. Soren smirked, in a way that covered what his eyes couldn’t, he was vexed and Otock could tell. “Come on, boy!” he said exasperated. “You are gonna tell me you aren't tired of wandering alone?”
“He had family, Otock.” Soren said sternly. “A wife, two little girls. He Doesn’t even know what happened to them. Just like Waren...Vanished.” Otock’s face grew from warm and jolly to a somber aggression.
Otock leaned in from his chair and with a stern tone spoke “We all know what happened to Warren...silenced ‘cept instead of sending ‘em out over the Divided Mountain’s like Ol 'Jacoba, they thought better, don’t want another Confederacy.”
Soren turned toward the mount of Ol ’Baxley. “He needs someone to keep the creatures off him, someone who knows life outside the city.”
“He needs protection?” Otock said curiously. “Are you getting soft on me Soren?” He grinned wider than usual.
Soren stumbled for a moment trying to find the right words. “He needs someone to teach him! Make sure he can survive out here. He has no one. ‘Fool needs to know how to survive on the run.”
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The morning came, and the sun’s rays stroked through the attic's porthole window waking the sleeping Tucken from his cot. He batted at the beams of the light as he groggily yawned and rubbed his eyes. He felt an odd weight on either side of his cot. It slightly shifted as he slowly opened his eyes. The unassuming man saw as his eyes opened the grinning face of his rebel companion. He moved to get up and felt a cold sharp metal cut the hairs of his chin. His heart began to race.
“What, what is this?” Tucken asked with a shaken voice.
“You aren’t prepared for the world outside the city. You sleep like a rock, even when a man has a knife to your throat.” Soren said as he sheathed his blade and stepped off the cot. “I’ll be taking that folder now, where’d you hide it?”
“You most certainly will not!” Tucken said sternly as he climbed out from his cot.
“Why is that? You gonna stop me, or just write your way out of it, Bowdlerizer?” Soren scoffed at the idea.
“I risked everything for those papers, I lost everything from this!”
“Answer my question, you lanky, four eyed, Arkin scum! You gonna stop me or am I gonna leave with those papers?”
“I’ll...I’ll hit you.”
“You, are gonna hit me?” Soren couldn’t help but chuckle, but Tucken was stoic. His eyes were dead to his words, and his body stiffened with his fists.
“I’ll hit you. I lost everything over those papers. I had a home, a wife and two children and now I have none of that and have killed half my city because of what I have done. You don’t leave with those papers, unless I am holding them, do you understand?”
“So, you really want to come with me, then?” Soren said with a small smile he tried to hide the best he could.
“I’d rather be home, but I don’t have a choice anymore.”
“Alright then, good!” Soren said returning to his upbeat nature. “I needed to see if you are in it for real or not, but if that’s the case, you need to learn how to survive.”
“Survive? We just need to follow the Crowned Road to Nobay, like Ginn said.” To Tucken their journey was straightforward and simple. Of course, he knew this was a terrifying journey to the unknown west. Of course, he knew that he was now a wanted man, but at the end of the day this was a buggy ride and a ferry to the west. Soren on the other hand knew better. In his long career he knew things were never this simple. He knew they would need to scour for food, fight for their lives and battle the elements and others. Nothing was ever simple.
Soren took his new companion to the outskirts of town. They went as deep into the tall trees surrounding the town as they could. They ended their trek near a creek that pushed its way through the woods and into the town near the sawmill, before landing in a shallow pond, near the town square. Tucken had no idea how this would go. After Soren’s odd outburst in the attic, the rebel grabbed the rifle Ginn gave him and dragged Tucken out into these woods, by those standards Tucken had an odd feeling he may have a bullet in his back soon. So far though the rebel seemed to be an honest man, as opposed to the smuggler he had met not too long ago. Tucken had no one else he could rely on now either, so he had to trust that Soren had his best interest in mind.
As they stopped near the creek, Soren took the rifle off from his back. Tucken regretted his last thought instantly.
“Do you know how to shoot?” Soren asked.
“I know how a rifle works.” Tucken said sarcastically.
“Prove it.” Soren said, shoving the rifle into Tucken’s hands. Soren stood next to Tucken and pointed off to a tree in the distance painted with a bullseye. “Hit that target for me, show me I can trust you in a fire fight.”
Tucken took aim, he remembered some of the reports he altered at his office. How Arkin soldiers would take a deep breath to steady their aim, keep their legs properly positioned and their arms straight, but not tight. He took all this into consideration and began to pull the trigger.
BANG
A shot rang out, that rang Tucken’s ears. He didn’t feel the push of the barrel though or vibration on his hands. No smoke came from his barrel, but he could smell it. He turned to Soren. Soren’s arm was stretched out behind Tucken’s ear. He twirled his Hand Cannon and holstered it with a grin. “What?” Soren with a smug grin. “Any idiot with eyes can hit a target, question is can you hit a target while under pressure?”
“You bastard! My ears are ringing!” Tucken said pushing Soren’s shoulder as Soren giggled to himself happily.
“It’ll happen, pal! What? You think that when we are in a fight the enemy won't be firing back? Get used to it!”
Tucken begrudgingly took aim again, not before rolling his eyes at his new rebel partner. He retraced his steps. Deep inhale, arms straight but not tight, legs firm on the ground. He began to pull the trigger.
BANG, BANG
One shot from Tucken, one from Soren. Tucken’s face was scrunched, and his eyes were shut tight. He didn’t want to see the result. He heard Soren’s boots crunch the dead leaves as he walked away toward the tree. He could hear Soren’s hand slide across the bark as if he was examining something.
“Not bad for a writer.” Soren said with a hint of respect.
Tucken opened one eye to see the damage. Almost a near bullseye. The hit was just outside the eye of the target, touching against it, a near perfect shot.
“You are worth a shot, Tuck!” Soren said slapping his hand on Tucken’s shoulder. “Think we can make a survivor outta you, yet!”
The day was long. Tucken never had to go through such extreme physical training in his life. The Arkin Youth Academy had physical tests, but depending on the student's value in said test determined their potential future job pool. After all testing was done, they were allowed to pick from a very rigorously developed list of jobs that the child would be suited for. The list was created categorically first. Based on Priori Knowledge first then memory skill, metacognitive, physical prowess, and lastly Obedience Ability. The students score in each gave them a pool, be it big or large, to choose from as an adult entering the work force of the Arkin Territory. Tucken Furnoon was given an eight in Priori Knowledge, a nine-point-five in memory skills, eight in metacognitive skill, four in physical prowess and eleven in Obedience Ability. His choice of jobs were Food Canner, Family Unit Auditor, and Bowdlerizer. Of course, Tucken chose the last.
Tucken came out of the woods, beaten, worn and skilled. Soren tried to teach him everything he possibly could in a day. Tucken displayed a keen speed of learning that Soren wasn’t used to. It usually took his rebels days to learn half of what Tucken had learned. Tucken felt as if he learned nothing. All that pushed him through the hell Soren just put him through was his need to prove he could hold those papers. He was drenched in sweat and welts, and he couldn’t catch air in his lungs.
Soren put an arm the best he could over Tucken’s shoulders. “A good drink should fix you right up!” He said with an oddly proud glint in his eyes.
Tucken had been to many bars and drinking establishments after work, he had poured his heart out to the ear of a tapster and swigged shots with coworkers. This was his second visit since meeting Soren to a hole in the wall, Tavern.
It was the small town of Dunton’s only Tavern. The Dancing Girl Inn was run by Jordunn Flik and his wife Essa. She ran the bar and front, while Jordunn made the food and cleaned the rooms for travelers. Their son Vincent was a small ten-year-old boy, but he ran food to tables better than any waiter Tucken saw in Huxwell. The kid came to the two’s table balancing the bread rolls on his head, Tucken’s fish, cooked in the juice of Gold Fruit in one hand and Soren’s Hornsaw Steak with fried Lowry spice leeks in the other hand.
“-All the sudden, the guy comes walking up from behind, with some hay and his giant bodyguard as the only thing between him becoming an exhibitionist!” Soren wailed with laughter as he completed a tale for the broken and battered Tucken. He took a large gulp of his ale as Tucken chuckled to himself trying to keep from a full laugh in fear of the pain that would come with it. He tried to keep his mind half with Tucken and half with studying the towns people.
Tucken was used to suits and professionalism even at the bar, he was frowned upon for talking openly when he was inebriated. Here he saw people holding each other, dancing to the jolly music of the man in the corner stringing his guitar. No one was dressed up, some even tracking mud in on their work boots. And no one batted an eye.
“What about you, eh?” Soren asked swiping the distracted Tucken’s attention back.
“What?”
“I told you a funny tale, you surely have your own. Just ‘cus you are a city boy don’t mean you aint a human.” Soren said with a hint of worry.
“Well, of course!” Tucken said, holding the air in the room as he tried to find some tale to tell. “Well, there was this one, guy I worked with for some time, Cullian. He used to work at the desk next to mine. He was an interesting sort, always played pranks on me. Well, there was one day when I wasn’t in the office, and they allowed a new hire to use my desk for the day and he unscrewed my swivel chair thinking I would be sitting there.” Tucken began to hold back a small bit of laughter as he continued, unaware of Soren’s eyebrow raising largely. “Anyway, the new hire shifts in the chair, and the whole thing falls right apart, it must have been a site!” Tucken wheezes at the pain of his ribs as he tries his best to calm his laughter.
“Yes...Must have been.” Soren said awkwardly. “Must be a good guy, gotta be jealous he’s pranking some other writer now.”
“Oh no, Cullian’s desk was wiped of all trace of him, couple months ago.”
“Ah, a Reckoning” Soren said taking a shot of a dark liquor Vincent dropped at the table. Vincent was good at telling what a client needed moments before they even knew they wanted it.
“A what?” Tucken said curiously.
“Reckoning, it’s the term the soldiers use for it. Disappearing someone, ‘De-personing' if you wish. They take the person without anyone seeing as best they can, and wipe clear any record of him, if necessary, they come up with a story on where they have gone-”
“Out on field duty...”
“Ah, see there it is, field duty, I'm sure he never sent anything back to the office, right?” Tucken nodded, “exactly, he was reckoned with.”
“What do you think happened to him?” Tucken asked somberly.
Soren blew raspberries and leaned in, “Thats a damn hard question to answer. Could be they were murdered, if he was a soldier before he must have taken the Penance, I'm sure. Imprisonment till death, illegal exiling, if he knew anything on the Confederacy who knows. Million things they could do.”
Tucken fell silent for a moment. His head fell and Soren already knew the thoughts that raced through his mind. “Think my family was?” he asked as his throat swelled. Soren sighed as his eyes raced away from Tucken’s direction trying to keep away from the pain on Tucken’s face. Soren sighed deeply and rubbed a hand along his face as Tucken stared at him. “I'm sorry, I just-”
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“Can't stop thinking about it, I know.” Soren said solemnly.
“Y-yes...” Tucken said putting his head down before taking a swig of his drink.
“I’ve lost people too.” Soren said, bringing his eyes back to Tucken’s. “‘Lotta people, in a lots of ways. They don’t leave my sight now. Your family won't leave yours.”
“How do survive like this?”
“Who you were doesn’t survive. That person dies with them. A new you takes the body and continues on.”
“So, you're saying to forget about it?”
“I’m saying to never forget about it. Know though that that version of you died with them, that’s a dead man that they knew, that your friend who was Reckoned knew. That you, that was in the mirror died. You aren't Tucken Furnoon the Bowdlerizer any longer, you are Tucken Furnoon the Whistleblower.” Soren said with such passion that Tucken could get a good look into Soren’s eyes. He could see the decade's worth of grief he held. Tucken didn’t know if he was a new man now or not, but what he did know is that this idea of “Death of Self” worked for him.
“To Rebels and Whistleblowers!” Tucken said raising his tankard to Soren, as he tried to break past the wall of grief for a moment.
Soren grinned wide and cheered Tucken’s metal tankard with his own. “To the journey’s beginning!”
The Woods of Dunton
“Kei!” An Auburn-haired young woman squeaked from the back of the group. “Lanzo ate almost half our food again!” She said pointing to the boy behind her with a mouth full of bread and berries. Kei was leading the pack through the forest near Dunton, a route she had taken many times as she brought Rels to the northern beaches of Nobay. She could easily pass through the Dunton woods, follow the stream upriver, only needing to step foot on the crowned road twice.
“Savry...” Kei said rolling her eyes. “What did I say yesterday?”
“He’s my brother, I need to take care of it.” The auburn-haired girl repeated. Lanzo kept his head down as he slurped on the bread and mushed berries that were slowly dying his hands a bright purple. Savry smacked his nutrition out of his hand and gave him a deadly stare with her neon yellow eyes. Savry was a little older than Savry, nineteen, as Lanzo was sixteen, but had the body of a malnourished twelve-year-old. Savry on the other hand wasn’t as malnourished or bruised as her brother. She did, however, have a large burn mark on her neck she tried to cover with her hair the best she could.
“Savry, love please give your brother a break, he deserves a little food after all he’s been through. Rowvick shall provide us with more on our journey.” The tall and curly headed Nessa said, turning to the young duo as they trekked through the twigs and leaves, following Kei closely behind.
“Pox on the name.” Kei grunted to herself as she waved her hands in front of the branches in their way, blasting them with a force great enough that the wood didn’t dare fall back in her way.
“Pox on you! You do not believe Rowvick would supply his chosen people?” Nessa asked with great agitation.
“You know my stance, Nessa, do not ask me to repeat myself.” Kei insisted.
“Either way, we will have to get food soon, if Lanzo keeps eating like this!” Savry added from the back of the group.
“Keep the bag out of reach next time maybe, please?” Kei requested, yet very much was insisting. It was nearing nightfall, and Kei knew it wouldn’t be wise to forage for food in the dark. Too noisy this close to Dunton, plus most of the forest fruits would have been forage already by the folk of Dunton and animals a like. It would be easier and quicker to take from the homes than the woods. Kei waited for the night sky to grow darker, and then left Nessa as charge of the two teens.
Her dim glowing purple eyes pierced through the foliage of the tree line like a lion picking its prey. She scouted the from the outskirts of town and watched the streets grow barren as the patrons of The Dancing Girl tripped and stammered their way home. One pair though seemed to be heading far from the town square, toward the edge of town to a lonely farm home. She could hear the two men’s laughter as they sluggishly sang and sauntered home.
“Oh, I met a girl in Blightham, couldn’t keep my drink
Down, she smelled like a man
So, I keep my distance there,
and wonder down the crowned road were!
I met a girl in Nobay, only could do it her way,
that meant up and down the wall
front’ her Pa!
I found a girl in Cavav
Didn’t know what she had.
A room full a booze, I did peruse
She found me under bridge Darindad!”
“What a sickening song!” Tucken said with a cackling laugh.
“Oh, you love it! Never woken up under a bridge before?” Soren questioned as he held himself up on Tucken’s shoulders as they strolled in a zig zag toward the FarWithers home.
“I can’t say I have, my friend. I have lived a very dull and orderly life until I found the mad man that I carry on my shoulders today!”
Soren’s laugh boomed across the dirt road and into the night. It was as clear as day to Kei. It only confirmed Kei’s suspicion. This would be an easy steal for her.
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“Nessa!” Savry called out from the trees as she rushed back toward her brother and the kind older lady who gently dabbed Lanzo’s dirtied face with her old handkerchief.
“What is it child? You are worrying me.” Nessa said soft concern.
“I-I was just trying to find a good place to relieve myself, and... well come on!” she said, yanking Nessa up and beckoning Lanzo to follow.
She brought them not too far from their resting spot, as they approached Savry’s destination Nessa could feel a tingling in her finger and feet. Something deep in her DNA told her to turn back, her feet began to drag, and her feet began to try to spin around her. She kept pressing on, by the will of Rowvick that gave her the strength to survive her old master's abuse. She was not afraid of whatever Savry was about to show her.
What she saw, Rowvick’s strength could not save her from. Her stomach dropped as if from a cliff, and her fingers felt frost bitten. Her throat turned on her as it began to swell in fear.
“Shi’vor.” She whispered with faint breath.
On the other side of the forest, high up on the tallest tree sat a shadowy figure perched like a crow on a thin branch. The figure whistled an ancient tune to themselves as they looked over the town of Dunton with their icy blue eyes. Behind its tattered cowl the creature grinned with pure lust for the chaos it was about to inflict. Those neon icy blue eyes though did not meet the grin and gave off an odd display of remorse.
Nessa could not look away from the Black Bird that perched itself on the splintered remains of the shattered tree in the middle of the clearing. The black bird with ice for eyes did not caw or fly away, it only stared its cold eyes silently at Nessa.
The clearing was not of natural origin. It seemed as if a bomb had blasted the radius of the clearing, a perfect circle of destruction. Splints of wood and chunks of rock scattered the clearing. The trees that surrounded the clearing had burn marks and steamed still yet the circle felt chillier than the rest of the woods, and a hue of blue swept through the air as if their eyes had tinted lenses.
“Nessa?” Savry said from behind her, she could see Nessa muscles tense and shake. She knew something was wrong the moment she found the clearing, but she didn’t know it would cause Nessa to become catatonic.
Nessa gripped the two siblings' wrists and turned around, pulling them with her as she ran toward town. “We need to find Kei!” She growled.
Tucken helped Soren safely into his cot in the attic. The worn Rebel never seemed so docile to the Whistleblower. He was quite proud of himself. Hours earlier he was being questioned if he could survive a firefight, but now he just survived drinking with Soren Malcoy. He wasn’t the one who passed out in his cot or needed to be dragged to his bed. His internal boasting was cut severely short when he heard a noise from downstairs. Tucken was sure that the FarWithers were fine if it was any accident or anything as they have proved they were not old and fair, simply and only old. It was the kind and respectful thing to do as to check on the two though. Surely Soren’s loud rambles about Arkin politics as they came through the door may have woken them up and it was his chance to apologize. Tucken quietly exited the attic room and climbed down the stairs with only the moonlight shining through the open windows illuminating the steps.
In another life, Tucken would have liked to live like this. Morrigan working the land with him. She always wanted to learn how to bake, but the price of dough in Huxwell was much too high. Clara could play in the dirt and run with the animals, Abney could have a nook by the windows and smell the fresh air as she read. It would have been a good life for them. He imagined their whole alternate life as he turned the corner to apologize for the noise. He was stunned when he didn’t see a frail old woman or an old man, but a Silver haired woman with glowing purple eyes rummaging through the cabinets.
“What the?” Tucken said, before being cut off by a blast of purple energy from the women’s fingertips which lit up the room in a hue of otherworldly light. The energy was powerful, like a mortar shell to the chest. Tucken flew back and hit the wall. His head cracked against the dry wall leaving an indent of his skull behind. He couldn’t move.
The energy that held him against the wall was relentless. His head throbbed and his sight became blurry. The purple eyed woman whispered aggressively “I don’t want to hurt you, dammit!” She kept her hand up making sure the power bound Tucken to the wall.
“Little late for that I'd say.” He mumbled in a daze.
“I need food, and your little farm has plenty. Allow me to take a few things, just what I need, and I'll release you.” She promised, trying to seem in complete control, though the quiver in her voice gave herself up. Kei was terrified, she knew that if Tucken was like the rest of the humans she had faced, she could be hunted once again.
“Sadly, it's not really my food to give.” Tucken said with a pained grunt.
“What?” Kei said curiously. She suddenly heard the smallest movement, something only her keen senses could hear. To Tucken all he could hear was the throbbing of his head and the whooshing of energy that bound him to the kitchen wall. Kei put her other hand to the kitchen entrance beside Tucken. Embers of purple emitted from her hand. “He is not hurt, I swear! I only need food and some water, and I will be gone!” She called out to the dark living room beyond the kitchen.
For a moment there was silence. A dead silence only broken by the sound of the energy that circled her palms and bound Tucken. Finally, it was broken with the click of a gun hammer and the quiet and ominous voice of Soren. “You’re a Rel stealing from the old couple upstairs only a day and a half from Huxwell.” Soren said from behind the wall Soren was bound to. “And you just hurt someone under my care, so I'd say you just got two strikes for me on whether you’d be better off dead or not!”
“She’s kinda got me stuck on the wall right now, Soren so I'd recommend caution at the moment, please!” Tucken recommended as he tried his best to squirm out of the powerful hold.
“Why haven't you shot yet?” She asked with almost worry emanating from her, something she drew an almost comfort from. Almost all humans she had met would be shooting by now, but no Soren, and that made her uncomfortable.
“I’m trying to figure out the value of your life right now.”
“I will not be a slave! Not again!”
“Call down, I'm no slaver.” Soren said spitting on the thought. “You are trying to get out west, aren't you? To the wild plains or into the Free Cities?”
“I’m not going for myself. Three Rels who hope for a better life are in those woods waiting for me to come back and take them to the west, no plan on where to live just the notion that they won't have to fear the next day is enough for them!”
Kei heard the gun's hammer click back into place. The gun appeared from the darkness of the living room sliding across the hardwood floor to her feet. Soren appeared behind it, his hands up and a grin across his face. “You don’t have a plan on how to get west do you?”
The silver haired Rel took a step back, almost losing her focus on holding Tucken. “I... I always have a plan!”
Soren chuckled, knowing he found his in. “No, you don’t, but you know that. You lost your only way out west, and now you have three Rels who don’t even know that their guide has no escape route planned. You need a way out of here, and I need someone who knows the forest better than any human. I have a boat, and you have better trails than any Rebel.”
“Sne Poa” Kei spoke in the tongue of the Rels, with disdain on her tongue. Nor Soren or Tucken understood the words themselves, but they knew they were not kind to Soren.
“I’ll assume that means we have a deal.” Soren said snarkly. Kei released Tucken from her confining power as she stared down the rebel. Tucken slithered down the wall like a heavy sack as his body landed on the kitchen floor. “Come on, get up Tuck she said you weren't hurt.”
As the groggy rebel eased the silver haired woman the creature that sat on the branch with the devilish grin began to sing the words to his ancient tune as he swirled blue and purple energy in his fingertips as if in ritual.
“Black Bird sings to the dead of night.”
The shadowy monster quietly sang to himself with a chuckle. He began to cough and hack as an obsidian beak peeked out of his mouth, followed by ice blue eyes and then the ebony feathered body of a black bird. He took the bird and laid it in his hand. With His other hand, that surged with energy, he glided it over the bird softly and kindly.
“Take your broken wings and fly.”
He raised his long fingers to the sky as the bird flew off them and up into the chilly night sky. The bird began to gestate and shake in the air as another black bird merged out from as if it was a dividing cell. Then again it divided into another, and another until the sky above Dunton was a swirling black sky of feathers.
“We were only waiting for this moment to arrive.”
“I’m going to take what I have so far to my people in the woods, meet us at the edge of the woods if you are serious about working with us.” Kei said, grabbing her rucksack and moving towards the back door.
“Don’t worry too much about food we have a buggy full of supplies.” Soren said as he pulled the beaten Tucken up from his arm.
Kei opened the door only to find a swarm of black birds rushing towards her in a frantic and grotesque manner. Quickly she shot a blast of energy pushing what she could back and slamming the door. A single Black Bird hit with the blast landed inside and dissolved to ash before their very eyes, an icy blue pebble that once was the small bird's eye, was the only thing that remained.
“The hell was that?” Tucken yelled out in terror.
“I don’t know, but obviously we can't linger here any longer!” Soren said, getting Tucken to his feet and racing toward the stairs. He reached the bedroom of the FarWither’s and bashed open the door only to see a scurrying and moving wall of black feathers ready to burst out. In the large wall of darkness, he saw a small opening where he could see the body of Mrs.FarWither. Her body was almost only bone as the creatures slithered through her ribs trying to get whatever was left of her. The only thing he could see in his small view through the black feather mound was a window. The hinges were unlocked and the glass smacking against the birds as they all pushed inside. Quickly, as the birds began to fall into the rest of the room, he pulled the door back closed. And rushed upstairs to the attic.
“Soren?” Tucken wearily called out from downstairs.
“Keep the doors secure!” Soren yelled as he climbed the attic stairs and grabbed the folder with twenty-three stamped on it, along with Tucken’s rifle and their backpacks. Soren looked up toward the porthole window above their beds and admired the erratic moving blackness that blotted out the light of the outside world. “Who the hell did I piss off this badly?” Soren said to himself curiously. The window made a small sound that could barely be distinguished from the screams and cries from outside. It was a sound like a tiny snap, like a small twig being crushed under the large toes of a Mute. Then he saw it. A crack in the glass that slowly slithered along the surface of the window like a countdown to the explosion of birds that were to come. He spoke no words, his throat closed in fear, and he turned as quickly as he could on the balls of his heels to rush down the steps.
Tucken turned as the thuds of feet rushed down the steps. The thud of his backpack hit his chest like a brick as Soren raced past him and grabbed the Rel by the shoulder as she held the door secure with a field of power. “Tucken get down!” Soren cried as he turned the surprised Rel to the kitchen archway. The power still bursting from her hand she bombarded the old, framed photos of the FarWithers. Pictures of their son who passed before them; pictures from their younger years. Frames of Otock dressed in his most proper military outfit beside another soldier, with a sunken face and deep green eyes. All these memories of the FarWithers, like them, were now gone. Shattered by the powers of the Void and the hand of a Rel. Her hand landed on the archway as a monstrous amalgamation of feathers and beaks piled themselves through the living room and towards the kitchen. She tried her best to keep the power field up and hold the large flock back.
Tucken could see from below the stream of purple particles that fed the field, Soren hobbling to his feet and cracking the back door of the kitchen open. Soren shut the door quickly and rushed into the pantry. He grabbed a rag from the sink and a bottle of liquor. And lit the concoction on fire, before chucking it out the door. “We gotta make a run for it!” He called out to the two. Swinging the door open to reveal a hellscape of burning beaks and feathers, that climbed up to his shoulders.
“Through that?” Tucken said wearily. “we’d be burned to bits running through that mess!”
“I wouldn’t!” Kei yelled over as she put her other hand up and pushed her powers to their limit, as she cried out in an odd pain. The birds began to writhe and stammer before becoming a puddle of blood splattered across the FarWither’s living room. She tried to catch her breath, knowing more would come soon.
“I’ll be sure to ask about whatever that was, at a later time.” Soren said with an extremely interested look toward the newcomer to their small group before rushing through the flames behind him.
Kei turned to the unassuming man who was laying on the floor beside her. She nodded her head toward the flames and looked back at him. “I could die! Soren could have already!”
“You wanna die in flames or by small birds pecking your guts out?” she said sternly. “Pick one, because I don’t have the time to decide for you.”
“You make a fair argument; I'll give you that.” Tucken said as she picked him off the floor.
“I’ll be right behind you, don’t worry.” she said before guiding him to the kitchen door. Tucken could see an image flickering in the flames. First it was his two daughters, then his beloved wife. Behind them though was a woman in the cool blue flames. He did not recognize her, she barely looked human at all. The odd-looking woman of the flames gave him a cold sense of familiarity. It was as if he knew her from somewhere, but even if he didn’t her eyes told him that very much knew him. In an instant they disappeared from the flames and something inside him gave him courage to rush through them without hesitation. “Make this worth something.” He thought to himself. “All the death, all the carnage in our wake. It must be made valuable, worthwhile. We must make all these death worthy. Morrigan, Clara, Abney, the people of Huxwell, and Dunton. They must be worthy. No more death without value.” He leapt into the flames with the courage of a charging bull towards a wall of stone.
The fire engulfed his body like needles, every breath he took seared his throat and lungs. What was only seconds of a full sprint, felt like minutes to him. As he pierced through the wall of fire, he fell to his knees and crawled as he coughed up the last remaining saliva he had. Kei came next, yet it seemed as if she was already there. The speed of a Rel meant the fire was nothing to her, she barely looked burnt. His eyes moved from Kei up to the revving engine Infront of him.
Soren stood in the driver's seat calling out to them both. Tucken took another look around as Kei grabbed him by the shoulder and began to walk him to the motor carriage. This was nothing like the riots in Huxwell, this was obliteration. No building was left standing, and bodies were picked to the bone. A pile of them lay near the end of town close to the farm. He could tell they were running. Helpless people rushing from the calamity that swarmed their homes, laying open and exposed across the road. Tucken knew no one had made it out, and Kei only hoped her people didn’t end up the same.
Soren called out to them, as he fired off shots toward the birds as they dived at the buggy. “What's happening, Soren?” Tucken cried out as Kei hobbled him toward the buggy.
“Don’t rightly know! Its gotta do something with us though, I can tell that much!” He called out through the wind that rushed through the air; pushed by the feathered creatures' wings.
“This is beyond the Arkins!” Tucken said as he hacked and hobbled toward the buggy. Soren leaned down and grabbed Tucken’s hand as he tried to pull him into the buggy. Suddenly, Tucken felt a pain unlike any other shot through his shin and through his leg. He looked down to see a dark and shadowy tendril growing and pulsating from the soil beneath him and piercing through his leg. He could see veins of darkness growing from it under his own skin, like an infection of evil. Instantly Tucken fell to the ground beside the buggy. His body began to convulse in indescribable pain. A strange and numb heat surrounded his quickly blackening leg.
Walking out from the sea of black birds that gnawed and slurped the innards of the townsfolk came a visage of a man walking closer. Soren couldn’t make out anything of the being, besides bright glaciers of blue for eyes. “Get him in, now!” Soren cried out to the silver-haired Rel. Soren jumped out from the buggy pulling the hammer back on his hand cannon.
“Soren!” Tucken cried out. He may not have been with the rebel for long, but he knew enough of him now to know when he was making a rash, or possibly stupid, decision.
“We have to go!” Kei yelled out, as she fought with the wounded papermaker to get in the vehicle.
“Whatever this is, won't stop, I need to buy you both times. I’ll find you after this. Stick to the woods as you head up the Crowned Road to Nobay. I’ll find a way to you.” His voice quivered. Tucken even through his excruciating and unknowable pain, recognized the quiver of his tone. It sounded as if there was a ball in his throat, and Tucken couldn’t think of a time with Soren he’d ever heard that tone. Anger, silent rage, sarcasm, stoic seriousness. Those were tones of the Rebel, but not a choked-up quiver.
Soren continued walking toward the shadowy being as it twitched and slithered its way toward him. The buggy raced off behind Soren who grinned at the creature as it approached.
The creature chuckled “I’ll catch up to them, you know that right? I’ll find them. The chase is always the best part.” Soren could see more of its face as it approached. Shi’vor could barely be called human. It had the build of a human, but their face had fault lines of purple emanating out of them as if the void itself was trying to burst out. An aura of dread surrounded them which made it awfully hard for Soren to even look at them for too long, and they smiled perpetually with teeth that looked as if they came from a wild animal.
“Odd that you’d be standing here then.” Soren said sarcastically.
“Where is the folder, Sullus? Where is Folder Twenty-Three?” The creature called Shi’vor hissed before cackling with enjoyment.
“Thats not my name, don’t you dare call me that!” Soren became enraged and fired a warning shot beside the creatures grinning and grotesque face. “Where did you learn that name!”
“I’ve known it as long as I've known you, Sullus. It's always been a good name, a family name. Soren, though. It’s never been yours. It’s a stolen name, buried and exhumed. I shall rebury it though. You have my word.
“You son of a bitch!” Soren said as he began to run and fire toward the creature in a bout of rage and fury. Yet before he could reach the dark and disgusting creature a blast of fire ignited between the two. He could see from behind the flames an old and grey man stand the flames and the monster.
“You have a bigger fight waiting for you, son. Get out of here.” The face of Otock FarWither said peaked out from the flickering wall of fire.
“I won't let you die alone like this, This isn't your fight!” Soren’s voice quivered.
“I’ve lived a long-life son.” Otock said with his head toward the monstrosity in front of him. “I've fought battles no one has won, seen men die that shouldn’t have, and had any woman I could, but not one compared to my Oma. Not one. This is my battle now.”
“I never wanted any of this. I wanted to do good, but I brought hell on your home...Otock I'm so sorry.” He could hear his tears sizzle on the fire as they fell. In mere moments, this beast who spoke the name Sallus had taken everything from him. He could feel an empty part of him growing again. Oma, Tucken, the Rel and now Otock. He felt alone again.
“Make it up to me and find that twig of a man and get those damned documents to the west!” The beasts began to seep dark mist from his hands that seemed sentient, swirling in peculiar ways.
“Otock I-”
“Thats an order!” Otock yelled out as he pumped his shotgun and stood ready for whatever happened next. “There's a time and a place to die, son and this ain’t yours.” Soon after he began to hear the steps of Soren behind him. They grew quieter as he left the old man to face the demon that took everything from him. “Make this old soldier proud.”
2 Days Later
Thick boots splashed the mud up from the road leading into the town called Dunton. Leading the squad as they entered was a young Sargent by the name of Demoine. Behind him was a smaller soldier covering his face with a scarf usually issued for colder climates. The soldier’s green eyes pierced through and was his defining feature to the rest of the squad. His name tag as well as his dog tags said Private Cass Everett.
“You said you were stationed at the outskirts of town, Everett?” Demoine asked turning to the emerald eyed man.
“Yep, yeah totally.” the man they called Everett nodded awkwardly. “I was sent out to Dunton from Huxwell to investigate some odd reports, seems to be real to me now” He looked across the ravaged town solemnly. Quickly he switched his solemn into a polished and rehearsed smile "Just glad you guys were able to pick me up!”
Demoine looked around the fields of bodies in horror. He noticed one near the entry in, near it was a black burnt line where fire once was and a trail of smoking black tar heading into the tree lines. “Poor bastard got the brunt of it...” Demoine said nudging the greying old man on the ground before him. “Well, Everett we are gonna be regrouping with our team at Fort Maligg, I’m sure our commander can reassign you from there.” He said turning back to the town to investigate further.
The lost private kneeled down to the dead old man and put his hand on his heart. “You damn fool...” he said holding back tears. “I won't let you, or the others down. Find peace with Oma.”