Chapter Six:

I huddled in my alcove, waiting out the rain. There was a convenient ledge above my alcove that just barely deflected the rain, though not enough for me to fully escape the spray when each drop hit the ground. Eventually, I was soaked through and shivering, like usual. The rain didn’t abate, but instead went the other way, starting to hail. The ice landed outside my alcove, breaking into jagged chunks.

These chunks served as an early warning. I heard them crunch, the footsteps of the man silent but the ice not. I reacted just fast enough to dodge the spear shooting forward at me as a man stepped around the corner. My dagger emerged as I snapped my mask onto my face, lunging forward to stab him.

But he was far more skilled than the priests I’d killed.

He grabbed my arm, pulling me past him. I heard his spear clatter to the floor as he slowly pulled my arm towards the breaking point. “If you move, I’ll break your arm. Clear?”

“Yes,” I said.

“You killed the priests at the church.”

“What church?”

My arm was dragged back and I screamed. “You know which church.

“Yes.”

“You killed my boy as well.”

“He tried to stab me-”

I heard a crack in my arm before it broke. I nearly collapsed, my arm falling limply to my side as the man grabbed my other arm in the moment I’d been incapacitated. “Yes. I killed him.”

I heard a soft exhale of breath behind me. “Then you die.”

He dropped my arm, and I turned to fight, but found a sword immediately at my throat. My right arm was raised, ready to strike, but I slowly dropped it to match my limp left arm. The man smiled and pushed forward.

A bolt erupted through his neck. The man gasped, coughing for breath, and yet he jabbed at me with his sword. I avoided the weaker strikes with a few cuts on my neck, and he swiftly fell to the ground, his neck still bleeding.

Then a figure dropped from a rooftop directly in front of me. My only exit out of the alley was blocked once again. “Who are you, and why did he want to kill you?”

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My dagger was still summoned, so I decided to use it as a prop. “I was tortured in a church for a good while. This mask… they put it on my face in a… permanent way.”

I didn’t bother to describe the method, hoping the figure would make further assumptions and fill out the story themself. “So, when you had an opportunity, you took the knife and killed the rest?”

I nodded. “I got back here, and he followed me for revenge.”

The figure sighed, and I got a proper look at her features as she lifted the hood off her face. She had soft brown hair and a compassionate face. “I need proof. Don’t move. I’m going to try and take off your mask. I can fight better than you can, so don’t think about it.”

She stepped forward towards me, crossbow carefully at the ready before she set it down leaning against a wall. She reached me, and grabbed the mask. I made my attack plans. As soon as she pulled it off, I’d-

The mask didn’t come off. She kept tugging, and for a short second I almost forgot to act.

Then I started screaming, as if the mask was bolted directly into my skull. She released it almost instantly as I felt at the mask, falling to my knees due to a pretend pain. The girl hugged me. “I’m so, so sorry, but I needed the proof.”

I managed a perfectly weak “I-I understand.” before she picked me up.

“We’ve got another one!” she shouted as I fell into darkness, the fatigue finally taking over.

In this girl’s arms, I felt safe.

I struggled awake in an unfamiliar room and immediately turned to see my dagger laying on a bedside table beside me. I reached for it, but a hand flashed to grab my wrist. I blearily looked up, and found the woman who had saved me earlier. “Uh. Hi?”

I felt for my face and found the mask still on it. Sitting up, I got a better view of my savior. Then I immediately fell back down, pain spasming through my left arm. Glancing down at it, I saw a piece of bone sticking out of my elbow and grimaced. “How are you?,” the girl asked softly, rearranging the covers over me.

“As good as I could be with a broken arm,” I responded.

“I’m Eve. You can call me Evie, whatever. I helped you earlier, and from now on, I’m your mentor.”

“Where am I?”

Evie smiled. “You’re in the Charred Tower.”

“What?,” I asked, lurching upright despite the pain in my arm. “The terrorist organization?”

Evie carefully, but firmly pushed me back down. “You’re in no state to move. Stay.” After eyeing me for a few moments, verifying I’d stay down, she spoke again. “You’ve only heard propaganda from the gods. This is one of the few things they team up on. The Charred Tower is an organization that attacks the gods for what they’ve done to the world. Will you join us? Or will you leave?”

I glanced at my arm, and remembered all the years of pain I’d had in the slums. All while priests lived above nobles, and could do whatever they wanted to. “I’m in.”

Evie smiled down at me. “Now, I never got your name.”

I smiled back at her. “I’m Allina.” As I spoke, I realized I couldn’t remember the last time I’d smiled.