Rontu estimated it had been twelve or so hours since they were thrown into the corner of a cramped tent. The razorwire that Serratia had bound them in before was gone, now replaced with tight ropes around their wrists and ankles before they were corralled into a makeshift brig with dented crates and rusty containers. He stared at the torn ceiling of the tent, watching it flap loosely and occasionally give him a glimpse of daylight. Archie was quietly snoring across from him, his head slumped against a crate of goods with a hastily written name he couldn’t read. Rontu envied his ability to sleep so soundly after brushing shoulders with death.

He thought back to what he had said to Horn. How he had so violently lashed out without a second thought. Rontu had never raised a hand towards anyone in that way before, nor had he ever threatened them with…death. The worst part was that deep down, he knew that he had meant it. Between Lowlam’s downfall and their capture, he felt like everything around him was crumbling.

Shen coughed from a few feet away, invisible beyond the pair of sandals poking out from behind a few sacks. Rontu’s eyes lazily rolled to his right before he leaned forward as far as he could to look at his friend. Despite traveling together for only a handful of days, the mysterious stranger had grown on Rontu quite a bit. This didn’t make the fact that Rontu didn’t know anything about him besides his name any less concerning though.

“You doing okay over there?” Rontu called out, scooting forward a few inches.

It took a few seconds for Shen to respond, the sound of shuffling being heard before his tired face replaced the view of his feet.

“Well enough, considering,” he replied, his voice soft and raspy as usual. His hair hung over his face and shoulders, the small braid he kept it in having come unraveled.

“Can I ask you something?”

Shen tilted his head a bit, shrugging. “I don’t see why not. Nothing else to do but talk I suppose.”

Rontu smirked, exhaling sharply from his nose. “Out there before, and when we fought Serratia. They kept calling you a Tao. Is there something I’m not getting?” He asked. “Why is that such a big deal?”

Shen seemed surprised by this, his eyebrows raising slightly. “You mean you really do not know?”

He was only met with the shake of Rontu’s head.

“Where to begin?” Shen sighed out, trying to think of the shortest explanation that would get the point across. “Try not to think of this as bragging…okay?”

Rontu hadn’t ever really considered Shen the type to ever overstate himself, even in the short span of knowing him. “Sure.”

“Tao is my surname. My family has passed it on for generations. Some even suspect we were around before Shutok and Honno,” Shen began to explain. “Hundreds of years ago, before the world even got to where it is now. My ancestors were sword crafters. When swords were no longer effective, they started making guns,” he said, mulling over his next statement before cracking a dry smile. “You could say we were…and still are…quite good at it.”

Rontu nodded. “That’s a pretty good gig to have when the world has gone to shit.”

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Shen shrugged. “I suppose. It helped that some of us ended up as Shutok. They aided in building the first cities once we learned how to combat the Honno. First came homes, then foundries. As it stands right now, my father currently oversees everything.”

“So the guys who captured us are probably hoping that the Tao give them some weapons in exchange for you, right?”

Shen actually chuckled a bit, resting his chin on his knees. “That or money. The thing is, they would not get either. Not even an audience with someone to listen to their demands. The Tao have grown so large and distinct that this would not even be worth their time.”

Rontu seemed surprised by this, his eyes going wide. “The hell do you mean by that? It’s your family. If they found out that someone had one of their members there’s no way they’d just leave you in the hands of a bunch of raiders.”

“You are right on that front. Unfortunately, I’m no longer a part of that family. I denounced myself,” Shen said, his tone strangely proud.

Rontu practically flattened himself to the ground in shock, his jaw agape. “What?! Why?” He yelled, causing Archie to slowly open one eye and look between the two.

Shen was quiet, his mind mulling over how much information he wanted to share. “Difference of principles.”

Archie let out a low chuckle, smiling to himself as he closed his eyes once more. “Well, that means we can’t count on them bailing us out.” He muttered.

Rontu sat up straight and let his shoulders slump. He didn’t really know what he expected, but the thought of easy freedom due to Shen’s connections was more than enticing.

The flap of the tent quickly opened, temporarily blinding the captives as someone walked inside. Rontu and Shen squinted and stared at the ground, Archie chose to keep his eyes closed and pretend to sleep some more.

“You guys better keep it down, otherwise you’re just gonna piss Horn off even more.”

Serratia sat down on the crate between Rontu and Shen, sighing as she pulled some items from a box she was carrying. “Especially you,” She said, handing Rontu a small bottle of water.

Without the presence of the bandit leader, she seemed much more at ease. Her hair was down around her shoulders and she looked just as tired as they did. Rontu’s best guess was that she was nearby outside just in case there were any escape attempts. Once she had handed Shen and Archie their rations, she rested her chin in the palm of her hand, smugly eying Rontu. “You really kicked his ass there buddy. That was great.”

Cautiously taking a sip of the water he was given, Rontu watched her back. “I didn’t want to do it, I just…did. If you remember correctly, he was probably going to kill my buddy.”

Serratia didn’t seem fazed by this, nodding slowly. “Yup, and there is no ‘probably’, he definitely would have after he had his fun.”

Archie gulped down a swig of his water, grimacing at the thought. “Thanks for the grim reminder, lady.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Rontu let the half-empty bottle dangle from one of his hands, watching their warden carefully. The keys to the Gemmer hung from her belt loop, a prize of her own taking apparently. He had originally thought the swap from her razorwire to the rope around his wrists was an act of kindness, but after some thought, he realized how much of a joke it was. She knew they couldn’t handle her if they made a break for it. Rontu didn’t know if it was worse being a prisoner or having your jailer have so much power over you that you didn’t even fathom running.

“What’s your name, Rock-Boy?” She asked him, interrupting his thoughts.

Figuring there wasn’t much use in being difficult, Rontu told her. “Rontu. That’s Shen and the big guy is Archie.”

She nodded, processing the information for a moment before standing up. The Gemmer keys jingled in Rontu’s face as an added taunt as she passed by. She lifted the flap of the entrance up for a moment, pausing without looking back.

“Let me tell you something Rontu.”

He looked over at her slowly, the light making her nothing but a featureless silhouette.

“If you want to survive out here in this fucked up place, you’re gonna have to hurt people.”