When Alana stepped outside, the sun was setting and again, snow was falling, forming a layer of white. She strolled to the forest before curfew and confidently walked up to the workshop. Soldiers around her did not notice anything strange, but one of them turned swiftly and whistled indecently. She ignored him, never taking her eyes off the hilltop house, and continued her way.

She knocked on the door of her old house, thinking how a mere month ago, father would receive her. Fabyan opened quickly and quietly.

“Hi,” she said.

“Come in,” he muttered, glancing sideways.

“Did you sleep?” Alana said, stepping inside and wiping her boots against the rocky floor.

“I did, but I barely ate,” Fabyan said, rushing through the hallway. He soon returned to the workshop and crouched next to the furnace, he rubbed two stones together in front of the furnace and sparkles came out, lightening the flammable material inside.

“Alright,” she said, walking toward the furnace. “I have only three hours.”

“Three hours?” Fabyan straightened his body in shock. He stared at her in amazement.

“Yes. After that, I have other things to do.”

“Other things?” he raised an eyebrow.

“You heard me earlier, didn’t you?”

“Whatever,” Fabyan shrugged. “Anyway, I only want to make this batch and be done with it.”

“Right,” she said, pressing on the pedal and making the fire grow more intense. “Got the pieces?” she asked.

The work was strenuous, as she worked on to make the inner portion and get the blade ready. They assembled it, and after the shape of the Sword of Ares was flat enough, she put it out in the snow. The sword of Ares was ready, in a way. The metal guide had finally been flattened into the shape of a sword. She had polished it a bit, but it still looked rough and rugged, still a piece of metal. There was no time for the designs she had in mind for the handle, and she needed Tor, the only one who knew how to whit wood, to create the crucible she needed, big enough to hold the two gems; with wavy engravings representing a sun, and black in colour, like the night sky.

When she was done, she bid Fabyan farewell, filled up Kassius’ leather travel bag with daggers, including the old dragon sword, much to Fabyan’s protests and the New Sword of Ares. She wrapped them in blankets so as to not make them clank.

The air was cold again, and she shivered, but kept her expression stern as she walked down the streets.

“Hey, woman, it’s curfew, either you’re at the feast or you’re locked inside!” one of the soldiers snapped at her.

“Sorry!” she said, without turning back. “I’m running back home.”

“If we see you again, we’ll lock you up!” the soldier yelled back.

“Sorry!” Alana repeated, and rushed down the streets. She had to get to the lowest part, but she decided that walking so confidently so late at night could be dangerous, so she rushed to hide behind a wall. The next couple of soldiers were marching, their thick fur coats on. She waited until they had passed her, and she walked from behind the round house. She could see the lights illumining the market square, and lots of people there, as if there was really time for happiness. That illusion could be sold in the capital, pretending the Gadalian people, or what was left of it, was pacified. What greater torture could be conceived, to feast where their husbands and fathers had been murdered weeks before?

When she reached the big dark building that used to be the chieftain’s house, she quickly glanced through the window. The inside was dark, so she rushed past to the front door, careful that no one was watching, and quietly tried to push it. The door did not move.

She should have thought of that. She knelt and looked into the keyhole. How could she open a lock? She should have researched beforehand. Now? That was her only chance. The way could be to break through the window, but it would make too much noise.

Maybe there was no other way. She turned to the other side, but something caught her feet and she tripped forward.

Suddenly, she heard the door creak open. She had no time to hide, as she struggled to ignore the pain on her palms. The door opened and a face peeked out in the dark.

The figure seemed to want to see Alana more clearly, and he stepped out, opening the door completely.

There stood a young man with short, brown hair.

“Oh… How did…?” The young man raised an eyebrow in surprise. “How did you know I was going to be here?”

“It cannot be!” Alana stood up, then covered her mouth realizing she had been too loud.

“Come in,” Felix said quietly, opening the door wide for her. She entered, leaving the cold outside, but frightened at what she would find inside. Felix closed the door behind her. The dark was only kept at bay with a small oil lamp on a table.

“How come?” Alana said, shaking her head.

“I’ve been punished, and look, I’m here, taking care of the prisoners.”

“Is there anyone else?” she asked, peering into the dark.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Not at this time. Well, the soldiers outside, that’s it, but I’m the only one guarding the place.”

“Amazing. I got lucky today.”

“Scary stuff.”

“So...” She cleared her throat. “I don’t have much time.”

“Let me guess, you’ve come to… To free him.”

“Yes.”

Felix took a deep breath.

“Miss, I am here to guard them.”

“He will die! Felix, please don’t make me force you. Please help me, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“The boy is a good person. A genuinely good person,” Felix muttered.

“Then don’t let him die,” Alana boldly said.

“Time comes, it waits for no one.”

“Felix! What are you saying? Why do you think I’m here and you’re here, by yourself?”

“Coincidence,” he muttered, looking down.

“It’s for a reason. The gods allowed it. Can’t you see?”

“Well, there are many gods and they want different things.”

“I don’t know who is taking care of us, but he really is taking care of me. And you. So please help me. You’re here, you can free him.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t die, soldiers are all around, there is no way to escape, besides… Miss, they’re going to hunt them down, they plan to burn the forest. There is nowhere to escape. Better to...”

Alana shut her eyes for an instant.

“Felix, I know that. Believe me, we have found a way. There are places to hide, where flames will never reach us.”

“Miss, I cannot dishonour my Empire again.”

“Felix, don’t be foolish. Do what is right.”

“Miss, I can keep you here, I can allow you to talk to the boy, but...”

“You don’t understand, Felix.”

Alana made her eyes blank, she reached for the bag and took out her black dagger.

Felix opened his eyes wide and stepped back, afraid.

But Alana turned it around and offered the handle to him.

“Felix, I can give you this. I have one for myself, and more for him and anyone else that has been unjustly imprisoned.”

“You are offering this to me?”

“Yes, Felix, join me. For freedom.”

“But… Alana, my dream is back home, with Domitia.”

“I can’t tell you to let her go, but there is a way.” But she was not sure how. She was afraid of failing him. If she made a promise to him, she had to make it come true, no matter what.

“There is no way.”

“I don’t know how, but things will be right. We will make them right.”

“For you, not for me...”

Felix cleared his throat.

“But you’re right… They… Tor was fighting for freedom, his freedom, but under the law of the Empire he deserves death. But the other ones… They don’t deserve any of it.”

“No one does.”

“Miss, I… I will free them. But hurt me.”

“Me?”

“Yes, wound me. In the chest. Wound me so they believe I fought back. So that they may forgive me and will maybe send me home. I don’t know if her parents would accept me. But I am willing to do it.”

“I can’t hurt you, Felix.”

“When you see them down there, you will wish to kill me.”

“What?”

“You’ve never seen anything like it.” Felix handed her a bronze key.

Alana frowned.

Felix nodded and guided her through the basement door. Her stomached turned within even before he stepped in. The smell was unsettling and impregnated the place. The light slowly revealed the silhouettes of the imprisoned women. Hrezia of Adachia, a young daughter of the Chieftain. This had been her home. Now, her brown hair was falling off, and Alana could see the lacerations around her neck and head.

“Alana...” the girl muttered. She looked more like an old lady now.

“Hrezia...” Alana said, as she knelt beside.

“I knew… We all knew,” the imprisoned girl said, a faint smile appearing on her lips.

“Is it her?” Other voices echoed around her.

“Hail to you,” another one said. “For you come in our time of dread.”

“Gitara? You… But your husband.”

“I have rebelled. I have… I have fought against them.”

“Gitara, why you? Gitara...” Alana cleared her throat. “But today I will free you all.”

“You may leave us, we will depart in peace knowing you are fighting back,” Gitara said.

“No,” Alana raised her head. “You may live.”

Suddenly, a burst of light extended behind them, and Alana turned, frightened.

Felix had lightened the torches on the wall, and the pitiful scene displayed. Tor was chained at the end, hanging like a scarecrow. When he saw her, he chuckled.

Alana lowered her head, as what she saw hurt her deeply. She rushed to open the shackles, and his arms descended slowly, as if they had forgotten how to move.

The freed women knelt.

“Alana of Adachia, our leader,” Gitara said boldly. “We hail you as our new Chieftain.”

“No,” Alana said. “I am your sister. Nothing else.”

She took out the weapons from the bag and held them under her shoulder.

“Whoever feels ready to use them in defence, please take them.” A handful of them, Gitara, Raxana, and four other older women moved toward her and solemnly received the knives and swords. And some of the older women, including Kassara, had commanded hordes in the steppe. “The gods are on our side. The sword of Ares has been forged again. Soon, it will be completely mended and ready for battle.”

Gitara made them circle around her, like the grandparents did, and extend their weapons as if swearing an oath. Tor was the last one. She gave him the gladius.

“It’s been waiting for you,” Alana said.

Tor smiled, like a child being acknowledged by his mother, but his glance was lost a thousand yards in front of him.

“It’s time,” Alana said, and they marched together toward the door.

When Alana exited, she saw Felix pressing his shoulders against the window.

Alana noticed a stream of blood pouring from his bosom. The wound was long, piercing through his chest. He closed his eyes in pain.

“It’s time now...” he muttered, his voice cutting off through pain.

“Felix, why did you do that!”

“Please go now.”

“I cannot let you die.”

“I won’t die, I’ll just be in deep pain until they find me. I will not scream until you are far enough.”

“Don’t s… Well, you’re really holding yourself,” she sighed. “Thank you, Felix.”

“Don’t thank me. I am eternally grateful. You two saved my life.”

“Felix, please, back in the forest, I was telling Kassius not to forgive you, I do not deserve anything from you.”

“By the way,” he stuttered. “There’s a man who can help you, in case… Something happens?”

“Who is it?”

“The Senator. The one… Augh… The dark one.”

“The inspector? He came to the workshop.”

“He… He wants to help us. The one with a missing eye is the bad one.”

“Good to know. We were planning to kill both. He told me today was my chance, in a way.”

Alana nodded. The women and Tor solemnly said goodbye to Felix, as Alana quietly opened the door. A cold breeze pierced through. She looked back. The women were not dressed adequately for walking out in the snow. Alana lowered her head thinking what to do.

“Don’t worry for us,” Gitara said.

“I promise a warm fire when we get to our place,” Alana said.

“Yes! Yes!” Raxana, another veteran said, the excitement in her face was unconstrained.

“Out!” Alana said and marched out with the group. They only needed to cross the road, walk silently through the few houses behind, and get lost in the forest. There was no one on the street but walking through it felt like an eternity.

When she got to the edge of the road, she stopped next to two high trees and signalled the women to rush. They couldn’t be too loud.

Suddenly, she heard the faint sound of water flowing behind her. She turned around and saw Felix advancing toward her, his eyes wide open, face pale, and his hand pressed against his wound.

“Hey, Felix, please get back.”

But Felix was looking at something behind Alana. She turned around and saw a familiar silhouette. Full armour, his back against her and his hand in front. A stream of urine came out of him. He was as startled, with his scarred face turned toward her, as he was surprised.

And after few seconds, Walerius’ stream of urine stopped. Now she had his full attention.