Pitchstone. The city shared many similarities to what he had expected, or anticipated rather. However, for every similarity to a city built in Novus Terros, Pitchstone offered three more differences. For one; the architecture.
The outer walls that stood well above the peaks of the forest around them, were lined strategically with tall cylinder spires that rose even higher than the walls. That was to be expected. The design of the architecture within the city’s walls though, was nothing to the likes Julius had ever seen.
The city of Pitchstone may have presented robust fortifications on the exterior, but within, the builds were designed in equal parts beauty. Massive spherical roofs rested upon large towers. Towards the center of the city, the rounded rooftops ascended in a conical fashion, ending with a needle-thin lightning rod for a highpoint. The deeper one traveled within the city, the taller the structures became, all rising in a circular floorplan to the apex. The focal point was visible from every district, it may had been painted in the same hue, but the design made it clear it was the stronghold of those that claimed control of the city.
Each spherical roof glistened in the sunlight, painted in radiant gold that reflected upon walls caught in the light’s path. The stone that surrounded each tower, spire, turret, was laid with a warm yellow hue. Copper accents complimented carved designs, artwork within the stones themselves, constantly drawing the eye upward.
Along the walls above, soldiers stood watch, still, part of the stone they stood upon. Ressilla called them Brigalle’s Golden Eagles. Which would certainly explain the pointed helm mimicking for a beak, leaving nothing but slits for eyes open on their heads. Each sentry stood statuesque, with a long spear held upright.
The helm was enamored in a golden hue, along with their left pauldron. The rest of the armor was fitted lightweight leathers based in a deep oceanic blue, with copper-tinged accents. No point of skin exposed.
Julius’ gaze lowered from the skyline. The beauty of Pitchstone sadly ended with the architecture. The further down one looked from the towers, the muddier reality became. At the bottom sections of the towers, buildings were stained from dirt, scuffs from carts, occasionally blood from only God knows who.
Like any large city, poverty leeched onto certain pockets of Pitchstone. Seems Melacalya offers no exception. Alleyways filled with pickpockets, cutthroats, sinister characters alike. Cultists, devotees of their wisps could prove to be equally radical, so nowhere was truly safe.
A man had come upon the group shortly after arriving to the city, offering Zandra, Alesia, Ressilla, tiny pearlescent vials of the finest perfumes Melacalya had to offer. Before Garrett could shoe him away, Ressilla had ripped the vials from the man’s hands, inspecting the vials between her fingers. Her eyes swept from the vials to the increasingly trembling man that stood before her.
She did not speak, but glared him down harshly. In a desperate plea to break the silence, the man smiled, “Three for the price of one. A discount for the beautiful ladies.”
Ressilla rolled the tiny vials in her hands, before taking her hand in his. She placed the vials upon his palm, without removing her glare, or her hand. The smile vanished quickly from the man, when he failed to pull away. “That’s no matter miss, I’ll find more thankful customers.”
In an even tone to match her glare, “No you won’t.” In a rapid instance she forced his hand towards his own face, shattering two of the vials in the process. He screamed immediately in agony, pulling both hands to claw at the glass in his face. Tiny streaks of blood leaked out beneath the heavy flow of milky white liquid that covered his face, cloak, even down to his boots. The third vial rolled beside the two of them.
Ressilla took a step back while the man writhed, cursing her between deep breaths of pain. She turned to the rest of the group, “A crude potion at best. Meant to blind the unsuspecting victim.” She crushed the third vial beneath her boot with disgust written across her face.
From there, Gaius, Jaecar, escorted the man by each arm to the nearest alleyway, ensuring there would be no more shady business transactions for him. Unfortunately, Pitchstone was full of miscreants like the shady potion dealer.
The next morning, in preparation to leave Pitchstone; funds were prepared in the proper currency, food was resupplied, the next stage of the path laid out by the tracker. A southern trek along the cliffside of the Glaucous Precipice, far from the main roads, far from neighboring cities.
Upon leaving the inn, the group was met with a crowd gathered around the stables, odd for the morning hours. Once Julius was able to push his way through, the stables resembled more of a slaughterhouse. From line of sight alone, at least three of the horses were cut down, dismembered, blood painting every part of the stalls they could find.
The smell was wretched, foul, tainted in every way from vomit, to entrails of some poor stableboy that was more than likely asleep in the slaughter, probably for the better by the looks of it. A final report from an inspector had their group down four horses, packhorse ransacked of food, supplies. There would be no leaving that morn, or many morns to come.
~~~
Leaving the noise of the outer city behind, Julius pushed a door open, entering the bar. Dimly lit with lanterns, the bar gave the atmosphere of well past midnight, both in crowd and in lighting. No windows graced the walls of the establishment, no light of day to guide patrons to how heavily they’ve drank, or awareness of how early, or late it was in the day for that matter.
Julius took a seat at the front of the bar. It had been at least a week since the ‘militia’ they had put together, had managed to enter Pitchstone. All under ‘the tracker’s,’ Ressilla’s guidance. Only a week, yet a cycle’s worth of problems. The dilemmas that started the moment they entered the city limits, did not falter in the slightest. Rather instead, they only got worse. Zandra had taken illness shortly after entering the city. Vomiting up anything she tried to keep down. Whatever had hit her, left her incapacitated for the past few days. Unfit for travel.
About two days ago, a deteriorating bridge had lost a good-sized stone from the arch that overhung the walkways below, nearly striking Jaecar in the head. Despite avoiding the falling boulder, the shattered impact sent a sharp shard of stone at his shin, resulting in some stitchwork. Either this was the worst string of luck known to man, or something – or someone did not wish for us to leave. ‘Good fortune,’ had been in short supply. Speaking of which.
The bar doors closed shut, Garrett took a seat next to him, raising a finger for a drink. Turning to Julius, “At this rate I don’t know how we’ll get out of this city.”
“What now?”
The bartender slid a mug in front of Garrett. He immediately took a deep drink before replying, “Jaecar. His wound festers.”
Julius shook his head, “From stone? How is that possible?”
Garrett sighed, conceding, “I don’t know. Something is amiss here. Ressilla said she will look into appropriate potions.” Ressilla…
A long silence passed before Julius spoke. “Do you think… The tracker?”
Garrett’s eyes lingered past his mug, well past the point of returning it to the bar top. “Can’t rule that out yet. Whatever, or whomever is behind these attacks clearly does not want us to make it out of this city alive.”
Julius’ gaze grew cold, “We’ve been playing defense, being caught off guard by forces we don’t understand. It’s time we play that to our advantage.”
Garrett chugged the rest of his mead, before tossing some coins beside the empty mugs, “Let’s bring the fight out of the shadows.”
Julius, Garrett strode with haste out of the bar, into the streets of Pitchstone. Julius rested an arm on Garrett’s shoulder before they went any further, “Where’s Alesia?”
“With Ressilla.” Julius shot him a questioning glance. Garrett nodded before he could speak, “Zandra is with her too. She looks pale enough to walk among the dead, but she insisted she’d keep an eye on them.”
Julius turned towards the inner-city limits, “Let’s interrogate with our tracker.”
Garrett was immediately at his side, the two making a quickened pace through the crowded streets. “Julius! Julius! …Wait!” The two stopped in the middle of the street, the flow of people moving about them indifferently.
“Did you hear that? Sounded like -”
“Julius!” Panting upon finally reaching them, Lodan rested his hands on his knees before speaking again. What now…
Garrett rose him up by the shoulders, “Speak, man.”
“It’s Gaius. He’s been arrested.”
Both Garrett, Julius shouted in unison, “What?!” Garrett kept him standing up, Lodan still grasping for a steadied breath. “What happened, Lodan?!”
Each word came between strained breaths, “We were ambushed by a group of thugs, they attempted to rob us. We fought them off with ease, but it drew the attention of the guards. One thing led to another, Gaius lost it, he started bringing them down one by one. They swarmed us. You should have seen the look in his eyes, they were glazed over entirely… The guards fell upon us in mass, they piled upon him till he was pinned. I barely managed to get out of there.”
Lodan glanced back over his shoulder, “In fact, they’re still looking.”
Julius scanned the direction Lodan came from. In the streets, the Golden Eagle soldiers marched through the mess of people. The flow of civilians making way for their presence without question. Above, on flat balconies, even some rooftops, more of them sat perched, scanning the crowd. “We’ll deal with Gaius later, head to the inner city.”
Turning the other way, Julius led the way down the street. In the corner of his eye, he felt the stare of the perched soldier above a nearby rooftop. “Keep your heads low.” First, we deal with the tracker.
~~~
The mood of the day did not improve upon entering the newest house complex the tracker had arranged for them. Despite escaping the openness of Pitchstone’s streets, Julius’ tension did not let up for a moment. We’re surrounded in a city we barely understand. His gaze kept stern while himself, Garrett, Lodan ascended the many stairs to their chambers.
An arched window passed on every floor, easily one of the tallest buildings, other than the inner fortress itself. Hiding in plain sight. Julius turned to the floor with their bedchambers. Making for Alesia’s room. Scanning the floor there were no movements, no sounds, nothing. Julius’ pace hastened in search of the floor. “Zandra?”
Garrett, Lodan, spread out room to room. “Alesia?” “Ressilla?” Silence gave the only reply. Julius paused in the hallway, while Garrett, Lodan moved swiftly across the rooms. His gaze lingered on the ceiling.
“The rooftop terrace.” The three ascended the next two levels of stairs, his grip tightening around the hilt of his sword with each step towards the door. Reaching the final step, Lodan pressed his ear to the door. In the waiting silence, a gasping breath struggled for air - from that of a child.
Julius pushed past Lodan, slamming the door open with his shoulder, metal catching the light, halfway out of its scabbard. He took aggressive steps forward. Alesia sat cross-legged beside the pool, across from the tracker. Zandra sat with her back, head, resting against a rock, arm crossed over a bent knee, she watched the two, noticeably struggling to fight a haze.
Alesia struggled for breath, yet she kept her posture upright, hands gripped tight at her knees. Even from behind, her face is flushed. A glare from the tracker, slowed his step. Neither the tracker, Alesia, or Zandra attempted to move from their place.
Julius tossed his sword aside, kneeling beside Alesia. He tore a hateful stare from the tracker, to widened eyes for his daughter. She sat flushed, sweating, eyes closed, head unbalanced in a slight sway, fighting quickened breaths.
Before Julius could fully open his mouth, the tracker interrupted with a stern gaze that did not blink, aimed for him. The tracker’s tone for Alesia, did not match the glare for Julius, “Loosen your grip, Alesia. Focus your breath.”
He glanced down at Alesia’s white knuckles; hands more swollen than ever. Julius’ own grip tightened helplessly, he made to reach out to her, but held back the urge. The world faded away around him, while he watched her struggle desperately for air.
The tracker persisted, “Let go of the pain, Alesia. Breathe in.” Alesia let her grip loosen from her knees slightly. “Yes, now breathe. Deeper.” Her lungs sounded constricted, bound tightly by rope, each inhale, fighting against the exhale. “Deeper. Focus all your attention on bringing the air in.” A tear fell from her eye, but the breaths draw longer. Come on.
The tracker continued, “Pull the air deep within you. The breath falls deeper than your lungs. Let it fill you, Alesia.” Like breaking through a barrier, Alesia’s breaths drew deeper, less staggered, less desperate, more controlled. Her hands began to tremble, but they did not clench at her knees any longer.
“Keep the rhythm. Pull in, deeper, let it fill you, then release, slow as you can.”
Another minute passed, eternal in the eyes of the helpless, but Alesia’s breath returned to normalcy. Her hands stopped trembling, but remained blood red. Her eyes fluttered open, turning immediately in surprise, “Father?”
Holding her close, Julius caressed her hair in his hands, kissing her forehead. A smile crept out from his lips. She’s not too warm. Zandra attempted to push herself more upright, muttering, “Good girl.”
Keeping himself wrapped around Alesia, the reprieve begins to fade. He turned to Lodan, “Bring Zandra to her chambers. Find medicine that won’t make this worse.” With an obedient nod, Lodan began the careful task of assisting Zandra up from her resting place.
“I would be wary trusting local remedies. What she has needs to run its course.” The tracker, rose from her spot, making to leave.
Julius pulled himself away from Alesia, speaking directly to the tracker. “I would like to have a word.” With barely a turn of his head, “Garrett, escort Alesia to her chambers so she may rest.” Garrett gave a nod, wrapping an arm around Alesia’s shoulders.
Alesia stared quietly between the lot of them. She moved from Garrett’s embrace, past Julius, to stand before the tracker. With swollen hands Alesia took the tracker’s hands in hers, keeping her gaze locked on hers, “Thank you, Ressilla.”
With that, Alesia turned, heading towards the roof’s doorway without so much a glance at anyone else. Garrett turned with her, leaving the tracker alone with Julius on the terrace. Once the two were alone, Julius began, “What’s really going on here.”
“Your daughter’s ailment grows worse by the day.” She strode to the poolside, turning her back to Julius. She spoke softly, gazing out into the pool’s stillness, “Yet she remains strong.”
Rampant thoughts rushed through Julius’ head, Alesia, the horses, Jaecar, the supplies, Zandra, Gaius, it never ends. Julius moved to capture her attention, to be met with another response from the tracker, “Who was her mother?”
Julius froze in his steps, nearly beside her. “What business is that of yours?”
The tracker took a small pebble from the poolside, flat, round, like one would find at an active shoreline. Gently tossing it across the length of the pool, it skimmed six times before collapsing within the water’s depths. Ripples moved out in every direction, bouncing off the edges, till the entire pool was alive with movement. “It could mean nothing. It could mean everything.”
Shaking his head, Julius pressed her more assertively, “Within the week we’ve come to this city, we’ve lost our supplies, nearly half our mounts, one by one our party’s members fall ill, or nearly escape a happenstance of false luck that nearly kills them. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say something, or someone does not want us to leave this city alive.”
“I told you there would be forces outside my own -”
The emotion flowed freely within him, “Not even an hour ago, Gaius was arrested. The Golden Eagles you spoke of are scouring the city for Lodan while we speak.”
The tracker stood silent this time. Julius went on, if you mean to end us here, we will get to the bottom of it here and now. “If I am to lead my people to their deaths, start right here with me, and get on with it.” Julius’ hand went for the hilt of his blade, his back foot falling to a defensive stance. Pray Garrett has the sense to get the rest of them out of here.
In a calm, yet stern gaze, the tracker turned to face him finally, “You overestimate the gravity of your duty, while underestimating mine.” She took a disgusted glance at the sword hilt at his side, returning her stare, “I am, but a thread in the weave of the great pattern. One string set in motion by the wielder of the loom. My service to ensure the fruition of her will goes beyond the realm of the living. In the grander scheme of things there are forces at work that move outside the city’s walls, on their way to find you at this exact moment. What seems foul here, can pale in comparison to what lies ahead if we take the wrong step forward.”
Julius took a breath, holding his position, “If you are on our side, help us put an end to whatever it is that curses us within the city.”
“You mistake me. I am not on your side. My allegiance lies only with one. However, I do not work against you. The time will soon come to leave this place.”
He removed his hand from the hilt of his sword. Julius shook his head, with a slightly softer tone, “Not until this is dealt with. I won’t have a mystic force cursing us on our tail. Even if you are not on our side, our misfortune is a hindrance to your wisp’s goals. Help us put an end to it.”
The two stood in prolonged silence. Time had escaped him. The surroundings had begun to slowly come into play again. The palette of the sky was painted in rich reds fading into oranges, with lashes of violet sewn in across the horizon.
Breaking the silence, Julius calmed himself, “If your wisp is ‘just,’ like you say she is, help us bring justice to the ill that spreads to our group. I cannot imagine we are the first, nor the last to fall to such a fate.”
The tracker nodded, “The will of another wisp is in play within this city’s walls. Not Brigalle’s. This is sinister work I’d rather not pursue, but if it eases your mind to solidify trust in what we seek, I will find the source of this malicious use of eneryia.”
She quickly added before Julius could speak again, “Let it be known however, that I will provide you with the source, I cannot be involved myself, or we will attract more unwanted attention than you’d wish to handle.”
“That’s all I need.” Void of options did not make trusting the outsider any easier. Though Alesia had kept insisting upon Ressilla’s help. The swelling has certainly gone down compared to what it usually is. Pray her intentions are true.
~~~
Both Julius, Garrett made their way down from the inner-city fortifications. The main street they traveled earlier was far emptier, full of shadows that lurked in the looming dusk.
Lodan had roughly mapped out where the holding cells were, leading Julius, Garrett towards the outskirts of the city, on the cusp of one of the more impoverished districts. Despite his persistence to accompany, Lodan would be remaining with the others tonight. Should the Golden Eagles happen to remember their warrant for his capture. Julius was not so inclined to follow his own judgment on the matter. Zandra incapacitated still, Jaecar injured, Lodan a target of the Golden Eagles; with Garrett, Gaius, the tracker, odds against this unknown force remains to be seen.
Every so often, a pair of Golden Eagles, sometimes more, would be standing watch, or patrolling the main streets. With the luck we’ve been having, it may be for our own benefit. The poorer districts stuck out like sore thumbs; cracked, decrepit infrastructure that attempted to snake its way into the stronger holds of the city. When they would appear, Julius, Garrett would peer down the streets, not a Golden Eagle to be seen.
The guardhouse had torches lit outside the building, night had just begun to fall upon the city. Golden Eagle sentries stood guard, spears upright, butt to the ground.
Julius lifted their coin, in the purse the tracker had given them, to his palm, holding the weight in his hand. Garrett paused, “That much?”
“It will be worth it if we can put an end to this madness, leaving this city behind us finally.” That, and we need him for the next part of our evening. Julius glanced at the symbol painted on the purse, “Let’s see who’s side she’s on.”
Julius lowered the purse, concealing it from plain sight upon coming to the front of the guardhouse. The two sentries stood still, no movement, nor acknowledgment of Julius’, Garrett’s presence in their midst. “We need to see someone.”
The voice that answered was not so muffled despite the encompassing helm. “Those that are held here will be seen by Brigalle’s justice. By tomorrow evening they will be seen by all, whether deemed righteous or unworthy.
Julius glanced between the two guards, speaking to both, “We are about Brigalle’s work.” Julius lifted the purse in his hand, held between the two guards. On the front of the purse lay a circle resembling the morning star of day, surrounded at four perpendicular points by spearpoints. Simple, yet profound geometric lines ran at the 45-degree angles completing the starburst design of their sigil. All painted in a bronzed copper. The same sigil that lies emblazoned upon their armor.
One of the guardsmen stepped forward, removing his helm. Short, greased hair fell disheveled, revealing a pale face underneath. With hawk-like eyes to rival the slits in the helm. Holding the metal headpiece under his arm, he paced between Julius, to Garrett, eying them from head to toe. “Where did you get this?”
Neither Julius, Garrett wavered from his gaze, holding steadfast while the guard prodded for more. He tossed the pouch to the guard.
The Golden Eagle compressed the bag between his fingertips, rotating his thumb across the packed coins. Each coin clicked against the other in the finite space. He nodded to himself, before turning to the other guard, then back to Julius, Garrett. “Out by dawn.”
Once the unwritten agreement was signed, the guardsman led them through the guardhouse. Past the rec area where a small lot of less than amicable men were playing cards with mugs in one hand, cards in the other. Past the sleeping quarters void of occupants. Past the rounded staircase lined in brick, down towards the holding cells.
The bottom of the staircase was blocked off with a locked gate. Once opened, it led to two rows of holding cells on either side. The overall room was dimly lit, taking in light solely from the faded white of moonlight. It was cooler, slightly damp even. Julius peered on either side with each cell they passed, empty.
Stopping abruptly, about half-way down the row, the guard nodded sarcastically to the man within, “This yours?”
Upon a closer inspection, the cell was a muddied mess, filled with tiny craters of water reflecting from the small window of light above. Gaius sat with his back against the wall, massive arms resting absently across his knees, his head bowed to the ground. Crusted over, dried blood hid equally on the cell walls, to Gaius’ exposed torso. A folded blanket lay sodden in a puddle at his feet.
The guardsman rattled the bars with his keys before searching for the right key for the lock. Gaius did not stir. Julius, Garrett watched in silence while the key was found. The guardsman turned to them, swinging the cell door open. “Out of the city, by dawn. The next sentence won’t be bought.” The guardsman turned to leave, without so much a glance behind.
Julius stepped into the cell, his breath appearing lightly when it caught the light. Garrett followed suit, leaning up against the cell’s hinge. Barely audible, Gaius mumbled with his head hung low.
Maintaining an upright position, Julius questioned, “What was that, Gaius?”
He rose his head. Blond hairs on both scalp, chin, were dirtied. His jaw was beginning to take on a deep purple at the side. A few minor cuts, bruises, redness of the eyes, nothing a long bath couldn’t fix. “My apologies, - Julius. Garrett.”
Julius glanced towards the entrance they came from before continuing, “What happened out there?”
Gaius rubbed a fist against his chin, “There were a group of street thugs that attempted to take us, myself, Lodan, unawares on our way to acquire new supplies. Shady looking characters, not even attempting to blend in with the crowd. Lodan picked the lot of them out easily enough. We thought they’d try to force us into an alleyway or something – not right there in the middle of open daylight, in the middle of a full day’s traffic.
“We maneuvered our way through the crowd, keeping them on either flank – then a beggar walked right up to me, a small frail woman. The damn woman’s eyes lit up out of nowhere, she rose her hand to her mouth, a powder sitting in her palm. She blew it in my face, then… there were screams all around us.
“Half-blind, I grabbed one of the thugs by the collar, gave him a good beating, then there were more, more… It became a blur… people running frantically in all directions, while the thugs fell in upon us one after another.
“At one point I remember the streets were fairly clear, I couldn’t focus, I couldn’t see straight. The bodies of the thugs, were gone. The citizens in the area, gone. The buildings blurred again. I remember Lodan’s voice, but I couldn’t make out where it came from. I was scanning the streets for him, then one of those staffs took me right side of the jaw.”
He shook his head angrily, “I thought they were more of the thugs, they looked the same - I grabbed the staff…” His eyes glazed absently across the cell, “I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop…”
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After a long pause, Gaius glanced between them, “I didn’t kill any -”
Garrett cut him off with quick reassurance, “No. Thankfully, no.”
Gaius’ head fell back against the cell wall, sighing with relief, “I’ve never blacked out like that. Not even in a drunken stupor.” His face contorted with concern again, “What of Lodan?”
Turning from Garrett back to Gaius, Julius moved closer, “Luckily no one was seriously injured. Lodan was able to get away. He came to us right away. You did a number on the Golden Eagles, but fortunately they stopped you before you killed any.”
Rubbing a finger against his chin, Julius continued his thought, pacing in the confines of the cell. “This has gone on long enough. Both yours, Lodan’s recollection adds up. I do not believe you acted on your own will.” Even in a haze, you held yourself back.
Garrett joined in, “Do you remember what that beggar looked like?”
Gaius shook his head. “A clouded remembrance, at best.”
Julius offered an outstretched hand, “Come.” Grabbing Julius’ forearm, Gaius pulled himself up. “Are you able?”
“Always, sir.”
The tone in Julius’ voice solidified in determination, “Then tonight we put an end to these misfortunes once and for all.”
He turned to face both Gaius, Garrett. The three stood together. “Tonight, we bring hell.”
~~~
Twin moons shone high through thick clouds in the night’s sky. The marketplace square lit up in the white sheen of their luminescence. Remnants of the city moved about the final hours, all beneath the watchful gaze of Brigalle’s statue.
Carved in pale-blue stone, her skin was a smooth silhouette. Hair flowed down to her waistline, wrapped around herself in a maelstrom. Carved feathers hung about her, along with intricate jewelry adorning her bodice. The eyes must have been carved in crystal, for they catch the same glow of the moons themselves.
The platform she stood upon had her at the center of the display. On all edges, wind captured in the fashion of thinly carved stone was spiraling around her legs. Feathers, leaves graced the outer edges, floating about her in the spherical nature of the design. A beautiful display, no doubt.
Julius glanced down at the plaque that rested at her feet; Brigalle. Wisp of the eternal feast.
Footsteps drew his attention from the statue. The tracker appeared before them, cowl pulled low over her head. She handed Julius a folded piece of parchment. “The source of the chaos lies within here.”
Unfolding it revealed a rough outline of the city, broken into individual districts. Shaded in grey, was one in particular that wove around the outer marketplace, encompassing a stretch of housing buildings in an irregular shape.
Garrett leaned closer to get a better look, “Do you know how many?”
“They’re hiding out in District V, a section of the city so run down, that even the city patrols stay clear. For a precise number, I am uncertain. A small group, but more of them than you.”
Gaius rose from the base of Brigalle’s statue, “We’ll flush them out.”
The tracker pulled her cowl back slightly, keeping eye level with the group, “Oh I have no doubt of that. In fact, they’ll be waiting for you.” She quickly continued before they could contest, “The eneryia signature is strong. At least one of them has ties to a wisp similar to my own.”
Folding the parchment, Julius placed it in a pocket at his chest, “All the more reason we could use you with us.”
“It would be my advisement to rid yourselves of this matter.”
Garrett pushed the curiosity, “Why?”
The tracker kept her gaze, but remained silent for a long while before replying. “An acolyte from outside the realm. Of one of the more bloodthirsty wisps. Like I said, it is best we leave this behind rather than provoke it further.” What is she hiding?
“A witch? From the Sanctum?”
The tracker had already turned to leave, over her shoulder she called back, “Not a witch. Melacalya has a different breed of witches.” Pulling the cowl fully past her head again, the tracker moved towards the inner city.
“Not much help, that one.” With his hands on his hips, Gaius stood watching her disappear down the street. No, but we will play pawns in this game no longer.
~~~
Cracked glass lined every lamppost on the street. Despite the dark of night, barely any remained lit, leaving the light of the twin moons to illuminate the street below. Boards were nailed over windows, doors were bolted shut, worn from cycles of neglect. The stone that lined the street was rugged, old cobblestone. A well-hidden eyesore from the rest of the city.
Gaius moved along the buildings on the east side of the street. Peering into buildings with a readied caution. Opposite him, Garrett took the flank on the left, performing the same task. Julius strode openly in the center of the cobbled street, light catching the black of his leather armor.
Shadows moved with every few paces. A rat scurrying across the open street, or scurrying through a pile of garbage. Rat or not, Julius kept one hand on the hilt.
A bend of the road approached, revealing a narrow alleyway that led to another street within the district. Garrett nodded to Gaius, before putting himself directly in front of the alley. Disheveled boxes lay stacked, scattered, broken, with wood shards splintering out towards the street. Julius kicked one at his feet, before nodding to Garrett. With aggressive haste, Garrett drew his blade, rotating himself from the alleyway against the wall of the building, out of line of sight.
A sharp hiss flew through the air, light catching a thin piece of metal while it flew out from the alleyway. It struck loudly against the stone on the other side of the street. Julius moved from the center, maintaining a triangular formation with Garrett, Gaius.
A box within the alley toppled, three more metal shards whipped through the air, far too small to be daggers, crashing in succession against the stone of the house across. One caught the remnants of paned glass, shattering the remaining piece.
Blade drawn, Julius moved forward, wait for it. Two steps forward, he caught line of sight towards the other side of the alleyway. Another hiss of metal came hurling towards him, through gritted teeth Julius whipped the blade the moment the flying metal caught the light, knocking the projectile violently away.
A well-built, yet agile, man came lunging from the shadows, bringing down a shortsword to meet Julius’ own blade. He pushed Julius out towards the open light with haste, while Garrett, Gaius closed in from behind.
Julius moved on the defensive, blocking each strike with ease, keeping a keen eye on the freehand. The attacker whipped another metal projectile from his freehand, barely missing Julius. When he went for another, Gaius brought his blade to the man’s neck –
With an unnaturally fast pivot, the man blocked Gaius’ strike, pointing the tip of his blade to Garrett’s pursuit. Julius struck, driving his blade through the spine of the assailant, piercing through the other side. With an aggressive jolt, Julius pulled the blade free, spilling blood immediately.
Gasping painfully, the assailant flinched, hard. His back contorting to the impact, the man staggered into the light. The armor he bore was ragged, rusted at the metal, peeling away at the cloth. His hair was unkempt, skin… flayed. He turned to face the three, he did not fall.
Julius watched the blackened ooze of blood seep out of him. Glancing down at his own blade, half the blade ran dark brown to black, not red. His lips curled back, watching this creature stagger itself forward despite its injuries. The body shook, forcing itself to move closer to Julius, the eyes unyielding, blazon with fire.
Gaius came barreling from the side, shouldering the attacker with his bodyweight knocking it off-balance, while simultaneously Garrett leapt in from the opposite side, slicing it from neck down. The husk fell, collapsing lifelessly to the cobblestone below. Thick ‘blood’ began to fill the gaps between the stones.
Garrett gazed wide-eyed at his own blade, “What in nine hells was that?”
Both Julius, Gaius, turned to face opposite directions, raising blades to each street’s end. “The fight’s not done yet.”
Remaining in the shadows, two more of beings that once resembled men, stood on each side of the street. Ragged cloaks, decrepit leather armor, all with rusted over pauldrons on one shoulder. Gaius shouted to Julius, “Go to Garrett, I have these two.”
Gaius strode forward under the cover of the street’s light. Julius whipped around to join Garrett. The two fell in sync immediately taking on their targets in parallel fashion. Garrett swung overhead, then with successive wide arches forcing the assailant back, blocking each in turn. No ranged tactics this time.
Julius followed up with his assailant simultaneously. Bringing steel to steel in similar fashion. The closer he pushed towards the attacker, the more cryptic the attacker became. Lines moved jagged through his face, cracked veins that moved up from his neck like a disease. Whenever the assailant would strike back, the veins pulsed bright, in the same hue to the fire that burned within its eyes.
Following the rhythm of their swordplay, Julius anticipated the next strike, sidestepping, then moving in for the counter. He swept his blade across the attacker’s exposed arm, slicing the limb clean off, sword falling to the ground with a tightened grip still clinging to the fallen sword. The same brown-black blood oozed out, lifeless substance.
Julius gazed down at the sword, then back at his attacker. Instead of flinching or faltering, the attacker smirked, taking steps backwards, further into the shadows, body facing the alleyway. With the tip of his blade ready to strike another limb free, Julius pursued with determined steps.
The moment the assailant had the alley walls on either side of him, a violet light aura encapsulated his essence – he leapt from each wall’s edge with one boot after the after. With an acrobatic flip he landed upon one of the larger boxes, pulling three of those metal shards in his hand. Shit.
Julius rolled out from the alley’s entrance, barely dodging the impact of the metal shards, each striking the stone in rapid succession. Taking two quick breaths, Julius rose, pressing himself against the edge of the wall. He rose his sword to his face, shifting the hilt till the alleyway came into a clearer view. Where are you…
Another hiss came whipping out from higher up, barely missing the blade, sparking off the cobblestone street. Dammit. Julius caught glimpse of Garrett dealing with a similar predicament, each rely heavily on their eneryia.
Reaching down, Julius picked up a piece of broken stone, then returned to the wall’s edge. He scanned the alleyway again with his blade, but more out in the open. Within two seconds the light of the next metal shard came hurling towards his sword. Julius released his blade upon impact, stepping into the alley, hurling the stone towards where the light had come.
Before the stone reached its projected target, Julius already swept low for his sword, avoiding the hiss of a second metal shard, sparks kicking up behind Julius. When he rose, he heard the thud of the rock upon leather, there you are. Julius sprinted full force at the target, before he could pull another projectile, Julius closed the gap, driving his blade through the ribs.
Ripping the blade free, Julius made for the next strike, while the assailant made to escape. The violet aura fell on him again, he kicked off the wall into the air. Before he got full height, Julius was already there. He grabbed the boot, pulled him down, forcing the momentum to slam him down against the cobblestone street.
Julius drove his blade through the sternum, pinning the assailant down. The attacker howled, not in pain, but in rage. Inhuman. In a desperate attempt to fight on, the attacker gripped the edge of Julius’ blade with the only hand he had left, pulling himself up higher along the blade. Those eyes burn with the fires of hell.
With his boot, Julius forced the being back down, pulled his blade free, proceeding to drive it through the skull. Twisting it for good measure. The fire in the eyes went out. Finally.
Julius ripped the blade free, taking a final moment to watch the husk of a man lying before him, then turned down the alley – where is the other side.
Whipping his head from side to side, either end of the narrow alley was lined with stone. What the - A maniac laugh filled the air. A shrieking cackle that came from everywhere, yet nowhere.
The walls that should have been street corners began to fade deeper into obscurity. A black fog rose from the bottom of either end, rising along the gaps in the stones. Quickly filling the gaps in lightning-like ascendance.
In a pulsing flash, violet light channeled through the fog, forcing the fog closer, thicker, closer. Julius glanced down at the stone disappearing around him. He rose his boot to not stumble upon – the body, it’s gone.
An unseen force knocked him backwards, he rose his blade to the fog. The fog swelled up, violet lightning flowing through the billows. A blunt force struck him at his side, staggering Julius forward. Before the unseen force could strike again, he pressed his back upon the wall. Steadying his breath, he kept the tip of his blade outright, Come on out.
Rising up from behind him, the miasma manifested itself, gripping his shoulders. Julius spun, whipping the blade in a wide arc across shoulder level in the fog. The blade hissed striking across the stone wall.
The shrieking cackle returned. A woman’s voice echoed in the alleyway, “You will all die fighting shadows.”
Julius shouted back, “Reveal yourself, come find out.”
Stepping one foot over the other, Julius carefully traversed the fog. Glancing side to side, Julius pressed his free hand through the fog, to the touch of the alley’s wall. It’s just another game of shadows.
Pressing forward, Julius kept close to one edge of the wall, black mist rolling after him more aggressively with each step. The impact from the shroud became more frequent, but he pushed onwards. Julius writhed in pain with the blows hitting harder. Keep pushing.
The end of the alley approached within near sight, a wall of stone, that isn’t there. Julius pressed the tip of his blade forward, the fog’s manifestation growing in front of him, taking a monstrous shape. Much more than double his size, the shadow beast struggled to fit itself in the alleyway. Vapors formed teeth that flashed the violet lightning with its gaping mouth.
Its massive paw swiped at Julius, knocking him into the alley wall. Spitting out the taste of blood, he forced himself forward. A retaliating strike from Julius merely struck air. He dodged the next path of the shadow beast’s paw, rolling past it. It roared with fury while the shadows shifted its configuration, turning the beast around. Now or never.
Julius sprinted forward, directly at the brick wall before him. Pressing a shoulder first, he pushed through, emerging on the other side of the street. He looked back, the alleyway clear, the beast gone, like nothing had ever been. “Garrett. Gaius.” Julius shouted across the alley, to no avail.
The brief moment of reprieve quickly vanished, the light of the street began to fade again. Before the fog consumed the street once more, Julius ran for the nearest building, smashing the side of his blade against the rusted chain lock. He bashed the door open, forcing himself inside. Slamming shut, the door closed behind him. The woman’s voice echoed in the darkness, “Here you die. In the shadow of the abattoir.”
The black fog rolled low upon the solid stone slab floor. The purple veins creeping from the miasma, illuminated the building he managed to break into; a slaughterhouse. Chains hung every meter, with remnants of livestock carcasses stripped to the bones intertwined. Silence fell upon the room. Julius moved carefully between the obstacles, all painted in the cryptic glow.
Breath materialized in front of him with each step. The smell wreaked of death, decay. Soaked in both sweat, blood, Julius pursued. A woman’s whisper came from everywhere, yet nowhere, aggressively, from beyond the walls, “Salach.” Repeating in multiple directions till it faded out entirely.
A rattle of chains swayed softly in the distance. Moving. Julius rotated his position parallel to the movement. Walls were stained with splattered dried blood. Hallways on either side, were lit clearly, opening deeper into the bowels of the slaughterhouse. On one side the slab was hued in deep red around the base of a large meat saw, with racks of knives lining the walls opposite to it. On the other, were rows of buckets, tanks of water lined neatly across the next room.
When the light grew strong enough, he could see a doorframe between either side, that flickered in, out, of line of sight. In every other step, it was hidden behind the veil of darkness. There.
The closer he stepped, the quicker the shadows shifted. Other passages in the slaughterhouse were clearly visible from the corners of his vision, but he continued the path towards the shrouded doorway. That which you most wish to find, will be found where you least wish to look.
Like a wind from a torrential storm, he was swept from his feet, knocked to the cold stone floor of the slaughterhouse. The light of the room faded out to blackness, the aggressive rattling of chains drawing closer. Rolling aside, Julius evaded the falling objects, each thumping to the floor in succession. Readjusting his momentum he swung for the source of the sound, his blade striking the metal chain in front of him.
The purple aura of light flickered back, illuminating two metal bleeding hooks lying at his feet. Kicking them aside, he moved for the door again. Turning side to side, eying each chain with weighted suspicion. The cackle of a crazed woman echoed seemingly kilometers away, faint enough to scarcely echo off the walls. Each step closer towards the door, the more profound the black fog became before the central door. The violet light weaving everywhere but there.
Standing before the door, Julius gazed into the void that shrouded the path towards the other side. The violet lights flickered violently behind him, chains began to sway again. The crescendo of what was about to befall him took hold. He held his ground, smirking back at the shroud. The puppet master grows desperate.
Cascading from the shadows of the black fog, chains whipped out from three different directions. Each with a bleeding hook at the end snaking towards him like vipers. He spun with haste, knocking the first one down with ease. The chain hissed back while each link collided with the stone floor. Pivoting quickly, he countered the second hook, while barely avoiding the third that attempted to coil itself around him.
Glancing back, he was further from the door. The second chain came whirling from the shadows again, Julius swung, clipping the edge of the hook, sending it down to the floor. He pivoted for the predictable path of the third, only to sweep through air.
Julius felt the cold chill of metal snake its way around his foot, up his leg, around his waist. He swept for the source of the chain violently, to no avail. The coil wrapped higher, making it around his shoulders before beginning to constrict. The light flickered in and out, the head of the hook hovering before him malevolently.
Violet flashed like lightning, illuminating all the metal, blood, the slaughterhouse had within. Julius fought to spread his shoulders, keeping air within his lungs. His sword hand white-knuckled from trying to free his blade from the grasp of the chain. From the depths of the shadows a growing flame flashed, a fire that sent chills down his spine. The flame that burned in the assassin’s eyes.
The laughing grew louder, coming in close this time. With a flick of her tongue, she whispered in his ear, “I am the bringer of chaos.” He turned his head, to find only dissipating shadows. “Burn. You’ll all… burn.”
Maniac laughing reverberated all around him, while the shadows swirled into a frenzy. The confines of the slaughterhouse fading to the void of the black fog that had surrounded him. Julius fought vigorously to maintain a leveled head, his eyes darting around him – anything, anything to break these chains.
In the midst of the approaching darkness, Julius caught a flash of metal from the floor, without giving it a second thought, Julius succumbed to the coil around him, throwing himself towards the floor. One of the fallen bleeding hooks lay lifelessly beside him, just out of reach. He squirmed closer, while the coil constricted tighter. His sword hand dropped the blade, the flat edge compressed against his leg.
His free hand was within a centimeter, come on! With his middle finger he caught the edge of the bleeding hook, slowly pulling it towards him. Once within his grip, he twisted one of the points through one of the coil’s links.
Screaming with all his might, Julius pulled the bleeding hook towards him, ignoring the warmth of blood running down his hand. With a loud snap, the coil broke in half, pulling loose. Immediately the chain fell lifeless around him. He quickly broke himself free, grabbed his sword, made for the door. No turning back.
A rattling behind him stirred, he went full sprint towards the darkest part of the wall. With a high kick, Julius pressed all his weight onto the door, sending it crashing open, smacking hard against the other side of the wall. Before he even took three steps in, he pivoted quickly, slamming the door shut behind him.
Four crashes impacted the door from behind one after the other. One of the bleeding hooks managed to spike its way through, leaving teeth that futilely grasped at the room within. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm. Taking heavy breaths while scanning the new room.
Julius entered what appeared to be a place of residence attached to the slaughterhouse. Sword in hand, the interior was full of exposed wooden beams, tables, benches, shadows, all hidden in a fog. A violet-black hued fog continued rolling in a thick haze through the room, shrouding much of the small enclosure in darkness. Even lit candles quivered, bearing no light.
The clouds shifted constantly, like moving pieces of a puzzle, parts of the room revealed themselves, then quickly faded back into the fog of war. Julius took a step forward into the haze. The cryptic shroud filled the space where he stood, surrounding him entirely. The air was eerily warm, dry, void of any moisture. It even tastes like death.
There were doors on either side of him, with a staircase in the back. Taking three steps to his left, Julius felt the wall’s embrace with his freehand. A shadow moved swiftly at the opposite doorway.
Julius pressed his back to the wall, drawing the point of his sword forward, crouching slightly. Come out. The air drew eerily still, the fog darkened, a blunt force knocked him from behind, sending him forward, falling to his knees, sword clanging on the floor, away from his grip.
The fog swallowed the sword, leaving Julius on his knees, with only the wooden floorboards in his proximity revealed. A swelling sound snapped his attention behind him. Julius up-righted himself. Tapping his boot lightly out in front of him. Where the hell is it.
The swelling motion grew in crescendo at his side, spinning Julius in another direction. He kept fists raised, nearly fully clenched. With eyes darting from side to side, the fog rolled about him absently. A dry laughter echoed in the background, the woman’s voice.
Turning his head to face it, the laughter moved about him, coming from multiple directions. His foot still searching – got it. Reaching down for the blade, another blunt force hit him again, sending him spinning to the floor this time. Not without the blade, not this time.
Julius’ grip managed just above the hilt. He felt blood trickling in his fingers, but the grip will hold. “You’re running out of options.”
For the first time a solidified figure emerged from the shadows to stand before him, stepping forward from the fog, unphased by the tip of the blade at her throat.
Fiery red hair, oiled, slick, fell about her shoulders. Pale skin that seemed to never been touched by the light of day. A slender form, bearing a silk red dress that would entice the unwary. Black and gold jewelry clasped about her, from armlets, bracelets, to necklaces, earrings. She stood tall, confident, a lustful ferocity in her eyes. Those eyes. Filled with flames of chaos.
Her voice did not echo like it had prior, but each word lashed from her mouth in wicked fashion. A tone that felt beyond her capabilities. “I believe ‘you,’ Julius Ryker of Stauroledge, salach to the realms, are running out of options.”
Julius took a sidestep, keeping his sword angled for her throat, while scouting the contents of the room from the corner of his eyes, purposefully keeping them locked upon her. “Despite all your eneryia, here I stand.”
She chuckled under her breath revealing a playful smile, “That moment will come to its end.” Julius sidestepped again, she kept pace at equal distance with each step of his. Crimson fingernails played with the wood table that separated the two. “One by one, you all shall fall before the wrath of ‘fire & chaos.’”
Julius backed himself against a shelf of glass jars filled to the brims with various contents. “And if I live?”
“Then his prophecy will be complete.” What?! With unnatural haste she lunged over the table gripping for his throat. Julius pivoted aside, pushing himself a fair distance from her position. She caught herself instantly where Julius stood seconds prior, far from colliding with the shelf by any means.
The black fog spiraled at Julius’ feet, extremely hot! Julius looked down to see a spiral of flame grow at his feet. Pulling him to the center with growing force. His glance downwards, sent her laughing again in that high-pitched shrill.
In that moment of her overconfidence, Julius revealed his freehand, smashing the glass jar at her feet. A cloud of brown smoke shrouded the area around her, sending her into a coughing fit. Julius broke free from the flames, pushing through their wrath, driving himself towards her with all his might.
The tip of his blade pierced her skin easy enough, her maniac laughter reverberating within her while the sword passed through. Blood crept out, dripping down her stomach from the blade’s penetration, just under the sternum.
Her breath staggered, but the smile did not fade. Not even for a second. Keeping her determined gaze locked onto his, she gripped his arms tightly, pulling herself closer towards Julius. She exhaled deeply, at the same moment the blade exited her body on the other side. Blood poured at an accelerating pace. Yet she moves nearly unphased.
The cloud of smoke from the shattered jar began to dissipate. Black fog pulled towards her aggressively, violet veins flashed violently. The woman tilted her head, shaking slightly, if only involuntarily. She shifted her hands higher on Julius’ arms, her long fingertips caressing his shoulders. She whispered in his ear, “You cannot save her.”
Through gritted teeth, Julius twisted the blade, jolting her body upwards. Her mouth gargled blood, spurting out through the choking laughter. The smile frozen upon her face, even after her head fell back lifelessly.
Julius pulled his sword free, allowing her body to fall to the floor. She lay sprawled, eyes glazed over, smiling absently at the ceiling. A pool of blood had formed around her, by the time Julius managed to pull himself away from her wretched sight.
Wiping the blade clean, he sheathed his blade. Taking the cloth he wiped his face, glancing down at the once white cloth, now a damp crimson, stained with more blood that is not of my own at least. Heavy breaths began to slow, but the rage fails to subside.
~~~
Sleep beckoned desperately. The path back towards the inner city took far longer than he would have hoped. Thankfully, they both live. Despite the cover of the dead of night, Julius, Gaius, Garrett, were bloodied messes. Golden Eagles patrolled the streets, or watched from rooftops above. The pathway became slightly easier once they obtained cloaks from a poorly locked shop.
The final stretch of road was under moonlight, clearly lit, no room for error. Muscles ached, wounds needed tending, the struggle to walk casually did not come with ease. The first real reprieve of the night came upon sight of the building where the tracker had hidden them, taller than most of the other buildings, even for the inner city, hiding in plain sight.
“They moved like those Golden Eagles did earlier.” Julius turned to Gaius, who too fights back the body’s desire to stagger forward. He was bruised up pretty heavily. Garrett too for that matter, he just didn’t bare the skin to show it.
Garrett chimed in while struggling up the steps of the side entrance, “They moved with haste for sure. Whenever one fell, another would show at the end of the alley.” Under the archway’s cover, he collapsed his back to the wall, turning to Julius, “They just kept coming.”
With his hands on his knees, Gaius added in, “Dozens.” He rose running his fingers through his hair, contorting his face, “Yet when it was all said and done, nothing remained. The streets were barren of bodies. All that remained were broken fragments of the city to prove what had happened there.”
“The deed is done now. We won’t be plagued by the witch any longer.” Until another takes her place. “Come. Let’s leave this city once and for all.”
~~~
There were still hours before daylight, but time was still of the essence if a confrontation with the Golden Eagles were to be properly avoided. Julius cleaned up a bit, while the tracker, Zandra roused the others for the late-night march. Will need to resupply along the way.
Despite the late hour, Alesia came into his room with a full day’s worth of energy. “Good evening, father.”
Leaning over a basin, Julius gargled through the sharp pain of salt water, spitting out nothing but water, finally. He took a towel from the edge, pressing it to his face. “Evening, it’s nearly morning. Shouldn’t you be waiting up on the terrace?”
With her hands behind her back, she smiled confidently, “Not quite. In fact, it’s still the first night of midsummer.”
Julius had begun redonning his armor pieces, “Nearly the second day, Alesia. Do you have all your things gathered?”
Nodding obediently, “Yes, father. I have taken my bags to the terrace – but what of the first night of midsummer?” Curiously, Julius gazed back at her. Alesia kept calm composure despite having to spell it out for him, “Messis Domum.”
Messis Domum. Julius knelt down beside her, fighting through the physical effort, “There is no time, my child. Not tonight.”
“But we have never missed a night of the tradition since…”
“I know, I know.” Julius sighed, “Tomorrow night, we can make up for it, but tonight, I need you to understand, we need to be far from this place.”
She looked him over, teary eyed, before nodding, stepping away. “You said if we are to survive, we can never lose sight of ourselves, our values, our traditions.” She exited the room.
Forgive me, Kethia.
~~~
Julius rested both arms, stretched across the balcony. Gazing out across the flickering candles rivaling starlight across the city below. To think not that long ago, Kyan lay below the horizon. Further out past the city of Pitchstone, the forest loomed in the shadows, weaving itself in attempt to reach the city’s outer limits. Farther still, resting upon the horizon itself lay monstrous mountains. Obsidius’ Crown. It is said when the night is still, in the dead of silence, one can hear the screams of the wyvern that nest in the great peaks.
Turning from the mysterious beauty before him, the reality of the painted situation came to reality. Garrett sat with his back against the palisade, flipping a coin in his hand. Staring absently across the terrace before them. Julius scanned the rooftop’s view.
Against the opposite wall, Zandra sat with her head in her hands. Gaius, Lodan, were organizing the packs to be taken down to the horses. Jaecar was tightening the bandage around his leg, he will need one of the horses. We’ve scarcely entered the realm, already at near defeat.
A door opened from the rooftop’s staircase. Julius glanced over, the rest of the group lost in their own thoughts. Alesia emerged. She moved silently through the terrace, walking over to the rectangular pool in the middle. She looked around, before moving to one of the further ledges.
Near the ledge, she grabbed a log from a metal andiron. The only sound audible on the rooftop were Alesia’s movements, along with the shifting of wood when she touched it. Carrying it with both hands, she brought it beside the pool, resting it upon the grassy surface. She returned to the andiron again, this time drawing the attention of Garrett. She did not stop, nor did her expression shift. The sound of shifting wood in the andiron caught Gaius’ attention.
Alesia placed the next log perpendicular to the last one. When she went for the third log, more eyes fell upon her. Zandra lifted her head from her hands. Placing the third log in formation with the others, Alesia rose, turning back the direction she had come. Alesia’s gaze was met by both Julius, Garrett, standing by the andiron with logs in hand.
Without missing a step, Alesia continued her path to gather more wood for the pyre. She crossed Julius, Garrett on her path towards the andiron, doing her best to maintain composure through glassy eyes. After she passed, Julius gazed into the skyline, we will make time. The day will be long, but we will make time.
One by one, the others joined in, building a small pyre with every log the andiron had to offer. Julius placed the final log upon the pyre under Alesia’s watchful gaze. She sat huddled against one of the carved stones that guarded the enclosure they had found. He took a seat beside her, the group silently forming a circle around the pyre.
Garrett took small pieces of flint and stone from his pocket, striking them within the opening of the pyre they had created. After a few strikes, the spark caught, the faintest glow rising from within the darkened shadows of wood. He smiled at Alesia, before taking a handful of kindling, tossing it to the hungry flame below. Light grew stronger, the growing flame replacing the silence of the group that surrounded it.
The rooftop door opened again, with the tracker emerging from it. The quickness in her step slowed dramatically upon sight of the pyre set upon the rooftop terrace. She gave Julius a questioning glance, but remained silent on her approach.
From within a pocket, Alesia revealed a folded piece of parchment, placing it in front of her. From a larger pouch she took out seven more folded parchments, laying them out in front of her. Finally, she lay a specially designed pointed pen in the midst of the parchments.
Julius was the first to take an empty parchment between his fingers, taking the pen in turn. Garrett followed, then Zandra, then the others. All till one remained. Alesia rose, taking the folded parchment in her hands, holding it before Ressilla.
Curiously, she took it. Unfolding it in her hands, “It’s blank.”
Alesia nodded, “Yes. You write everything you’re thankful for.” Alesia ignored the perplexed face written on the tracker’s face, taking the pen from Jaecar, proceeding to offer it with an outstretched hand to Ressilla. All eyes fell upon the tracker.
Hesitantly, she took the pen, leaving a satisfied grin upon Alesia’s face. Julius watched his daughter turn, taking a seat beside him once again. Her gaze was locked into the pyre, but Julius could not turn from Alesia. You will make a fine captain.
When Ressilla finished writing, Julius was first to toss his parchment into the flames. One by one they began tossing their parchments to the flame. A soft hiss consuming each one after the other. Alesia held her parchment in her hands, with blackened scribbled words covering throughout both sides.
Julius put his arm around Alesia while she moved the paper between her fingers. She smiled up at him, carefully placing it upon the logs.
The paper curled at the edges, bright orange light illuminating around the letterings, slowly consuming the parchment itself. Bright ashes rose into the darkened sky. Messis Domum.