The first thing Jere noticed was the smell. A fruity undercurrent mixed with the usually spice-laden air in Ash. He wasn’t sure what he was smelling. But compared to the cells it was the sweetest air it could be.

His eyes still needed to adjust. Gradually, the cliff faces and the mudbrick buildings took their shape amongst the city outline. The blackness of the sky morphed into a shade of burgundy and sapphire without the hint of amber that Jere was usually accustomed to.

Jere crouched underneath his window, both from a desire to remain hidden and from weakness. He only rose to his feet once his faculties adjusted, pulling off the makeshift headband covering his ears. Save for the screaming and moaning coming from within the cells, it was completely quiet.

There were no guards. No parameter patrol. No archers along the cliff face. Nothing.

For a moment, Jere gathered himself. He placed his hands in the sand, feeling its coarseness move along his skin. The usually unpleasant feeling felt magnificent after so many moons feeling nothing but stone and iron and twine. He rubbed it along his face, realizing with shock that his usual stubble had grown into a beard that obscured his jawline. He’d been in the cells longer than he thought.

His stomach growled at him with a rumble that shook his entire body. He needed to move. He was far from safe now.

Jere moved across the edge of the cells, turning his head around a corner. He could see little, but he was alone. He could spot the temple, and could barely see the outline of Ash Manor from the lights that emanated from it. The town was otherwise shrouded in darkness.

Jere ran to the buildings, mustering as much speed as he could. He ran toward a small home, long boarded up and abandoned by its former occupants. The cells were barely past West Shell, and most of the homes would be abandoned at this time of night. Once again, he looked around the corners. Not a single living soul. He listened intently for the thrashing sounds of Corps armor, but was greeted only with a rustling of sand from a gentle breeze. He was hoping for any smell of cooked food, but only caught more of the fruity-spicy stench. The longer he stayed outside, the less appetizing the smell became.

Eevi’s tavern was straight past the temple on the eastern edge of town. Temple guards were always posted there, but Jere could think of a few alleyways that he could sneak through the went around it. He and Appo had hid in them and found their tumbril not too long ago. If he was lucky, perhaps Jere could find a few fruits vendors had left out overnight. It was how the street children survived, he supposed he could stoop to their level just this once.

But something wasn’t right. It was too quiet. The holiday had passed, but he had yet to see another person. Certainly, he would have seen some beggars by this point, sleeping in the streets. Jere reluctantly continued forward.

As Jere turned down another alleyway, he spotted the source of the smell: numerous vending stations crowded the sides, all abandoned. Melons and cabbage and meat and eggs, all rotten. One of the stations was knocked over on its side, its many fruits decomposing on the ground around it. Jere briefly searched for anything edible but the sand and exposure in the sun had reduced them all to rot. He gagged at the suddenly overwhelming stench.

Jere saw more of the same as he walked. More abandoned vending stations. More rotten fruit. A concerning absence of Ashfolk. There was such an unusual surplus of food that the only explanation was that they had been here since the Day of Akkavan, however long ago that had been.

Jere was getting closer to the temple now. He heard murmurs and groans. Whatever was making that noise, the last thing he needed was to get closer. He crouched lower to the ground, doing his best to quiet his footsteps.

"It surely wouldn't be..."

As Jere rounded another corner he was greeted by an inhuman shriek. One that he shouldn’t have heard once he left the cells.

Jere ducked back around the corner. He hesitated for a moment, paralyzed with shock. He had not been seen. He saw it for just a moment: it was a screamer swiping at a vending cart, scratching its nails against a metal plate against the side. After holding his breath for as long as he could, Jere stuck his head around the corner as little as possible.

For all his time in the cells, Jere realized he had never gotten a good look at any of the screamers. He was glad he hadn’t. This screamer stood about two meters tall, its height more pronounced by its gaunt figure. Whatever clothes the figure once wore had long fallen off or were ripped to pieces, as the screamer stood completely naked. Jere could make out its gray and deformed skin, lined with thousands of scars over its entire body. The screamer thrashed its head from side to side, and Jere could see the bloody pits where its eyes used to be. It swung at the metal plate in a stilted and jerky manner, awkwardly slapping it with its elongated nails.

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After several seconds of gazing, Jere backed away, keeping his eyes locked on the screamer. As he did, his foot bumped against another abandoned vending cart, this one carrying a multitude of beads and priestly charms. The screamer swiveled its head around, gawking for a brief moment before dropping its jaw and letting out its high-pitched shriek.

"Fuck."

Jere turned and ran. He barely caught sight of the screamer sprinting towards him in a crooked and gangly posture, its arms outstretched. That was all he needed to see. Jere ducked down an adjacent alleyway, but the screamer wasn’t far behind. Jere threw down a few vending carts behind him, hoping to stop the screamer in his tracks. He wasn’t sure whether it worked. What this did do was make several crashing noises that echoed through the town. Jere heard another two screams cry out behind him. He saw another gaunt figure crawl out from under a locked doorway, forcing him to turn down another alleyway. More and more screams cried out.

Jere wasn’t moving fast enough. His legs ached as he increased his speed. He didn’t know how fast he was moving, but when he turned he could see several figures chasing him. Some still wore clothes, and some still had their eyes. All were screaming. Suddenly the buildings came to an end and he was in the open. He had reached the temple courtyard.

Jere halted upon realizing what filled the courtyard in front of him. Hundreds upon hundreds of screamers. Most were crouching, though some seemed to have just gotten to their feet. Below them, scattered outside the temple, were piles of corpses, all scratched and bitten and burnt. They were packed into every space within, all straining to see Jere. The screamers' quivering cries morphed into a droning wail. They made their way towards him.

Jere paused only long enough to catch the frightening sight. He ran blindly back into town. The screams followed, picking up speed as Jere’s running slowed to a jog. His hips ached and fear could only push him so far. He heard hundreds of footsteps as the screamer mob coalesced into a single horde. They tripped over each other, pushing past abandoned carts and stands and corpses. Jere maneuvered his way around everything, realizing that if he missed even a single step he would be swarmed.

It wasn’t enough. The horde was getting closer and wasn’t slowing. Screamers were leaping out of windows and rising from the ground, joining the ever-growing mass. A hundred were chasing him now. Jere could see their outstretched hands as they took turns lunging towards him.

Above Jere, a bright flame passed over his head. It landed behind him, exploding into a blaze that propelled him forward. Jere tumbled and lost his footing, falling to the ground. The screamers behind him were engulfed in flames, their shrieks becoming more and more high-pitched as their vocal cords burst. They flailed wildly as they scattered past Jere.

The rest of the horde split around into two groups past the fire, only to be met with two more exploding flames on both sides. Their screams multiplied as the horde pushed their brethren into the flames, unconcerned with the danger in front of them. Two dozen screamers caught fire, and one by one they began to fall.

“GET TO YOUR FEET YOU FOOL!”

Jere recognized Eevi’s voice immediately. Still prone on the ground, Jere rolled to his side and realized he had fallen right in front of Eevi’s tavern. He spotted her on the roof, holding a bottle of clear liquid. Perhaps it was the spirit she had so proudly shown the healer when he first arrived? Eevi threw the bottle to the ground on the side of the firestorm, catching another five screamers by surprise.

Jere didn’t need to be reminded a second time. He ran inside the tavern, pushing his way past the doors.

The tavern inside had been completely demolished. Corpses of men and screamers alike filled the hall. Jere nearly tripped again over the multitude of broken tables and mangled bodies. It was the sign of a massacre, one that he barely registered in his frantic state.

A rope fell from the ceiling. Eevi stood above a massive hole that broke through most of the roof. Jere quickly wrapped the rope around his arm and waist before being hoisted up. As he swung around, three half-burnt screamers pushed their way through the tavern doors and lunged at Jere. Jere was just able to lift his legs out of reach as their jagged nails flung wildly in the air.

Jere pulled himself up to the roof as soon as he could. He was well out of reach of the screamers. Finally safe, Jere fell face first on the roof, his body collapsing from exhaustion. As he gathered his breath, Jere heard a click in front of him. Eevi, completely donned in charcoal-black leather armor, pointed a crossbow directly at Jere’s face. She glared at him with her one unburnt eye.

“Alright, stranger. I did you a favor. Return it by keeping your distance.”

Jere pushed himself off the ground. He met Eevi’s gaze. She kept her stern expression. Jere slowly rotated his body and backed away from the arrow. “Okay,” he croaked. It hurt to speak.

“Show me your limbs,” Eevi commanded. “If I find a scratch I promise a quick death.”

Jere slowly raised his arms, holding his hands out and rolling up his sleeves. He looked around the rooftop. Several boxes lined one side, along with buckets of what he hoped were just water. On the other side were a cot and several arrows. Behind Eevi, the firestorm continued to burn as the screaming finally died down.

Looking at his outstretched hands, Jere was reminded how skinny and lanky he had become after his time in the cells. No wonder Eevi didn’t recognize him.

Jere flashed a grin, holding his hands up near his head. “It’s been a long night, Eevi.”

In an instant, Eevi lowered her crossbow. “Jere?!” She shook her head, getting another look at him. “You look like shit.”

“Yeah...” Jere’s voice continued to crack as he spoke.

“I can’t believe I… I almost shot you! Where have you been?”

Jere lowered his hands. “Happy to explain… once I get something to eat.”