Jere watched as the sun disappeared behind the edge of the outcropping. He and Eevi had laid on their bellies for hours. Despite Eevi's insistence that they remain quiet, she was fidgety. She had whispered a litany of questions throughout most of the day. She asked how he survived in the cells, why Boah would want to kill him, whether he knew Appo was killed for sure, and so on. Jere provided answers, though he kept them brisque. He had confirmation that Juddken was alive. That was enough of a reason to stay away from the ire of the Manor.

Despite Jere’s calmness, intrusive thoughts of Eevi lingered in his mind like splinters. He couldn’t stop thinking of how beautiful she was. He became concerned that the brown ash was seeping from slits in the roof. Eevi’s incessant questioning wasn’t helping such matters.

“Psst,” whispered Eevi, as if she hadn’t been talking with Jere for so long already. “The sun is setting. We should move.”

Jere gave her a thumbs up. Their chummy conversation was still awkward to him.

“We have a problem, though. We can get through Main Street over rooftop, but there’s running distance between the buildings and the wall. About ten meters. If any of them see us-”

Jere cut her off with a wave of his hand. He knew if any screamers followed them, their hideout would be exposed. “Distraction,” he whispered, almost mouthing it.

“That’s what I was thinking. Any ideas?”

Jere pointed down at the roof. “Burn the spice.”

Eevi grinned. “Brilliant! I had the same thought!” She reached behind herself, almost too eager to do anything else other than lie flat. She held one of the canisters she held around her waist. “I can start a fire using some of my spirit. It’ll burn slowly, but it’ll eventually spread inside. They’ll all be too distracted to look anywhere else.”

It made sense to Jere. While most of the building was made of mudbrick, the roof was woven together with reeds. It would burn easily. “And those in the Manor?”

“What if they see us? They’ll have bigger problems if they come outside.”

“Okay. Following you.”

Eevi nodded. She rolled over to her corner of the roof. She opened the cap of her canister, pouring the spirit on the roof. The smell was unbearable. Jere hoped the screamers weren’t as aggravated by smell as they were with noise and light.

A scream echoed in the distance. It was faint, but after so many hours of relative silence it was startling. He imagined a crooning rooster call. They would all be awake soon.

Eevi also took note. She poured out the last of her spirit and lit the roof with flint. The flame arose suddenly, encompassing the whole corner within a second before halting.

“Let’s go,” Eevi whispered. The two rose to their knees and peered over the outcropping. The sun was just beyond the horizon now. As they got to their feet, they saw no screamers nearby. But the flame behind them was growing. It wouldn’t be long before they’d see it.

Eevi led first, crouching as she moved to the end of the spice house. The building next to it was taller so she climbed up on the ridge. Jere followed closely behind. The two moved across the buildings one by one, careful not to make noise. Jere tried not to focus on his surroundings. He was more concerned about whether the roofs could hold their weight. He didn’t want to put all of his faith in the stability of ramshackle Ash architecture.

After the two traversed over five buildings, Jere turned around. Screams and growls came from the direction of the spice house. The entire roof was on fire now. Several screamers stood around the building, their angular silhouettes outlined by the flames. Most stood still, as if gathered at a fire pit. It was more human-like than Jere was comfortable with. Still, a distraction was a distraction.

Suddenly the fire grew massive, engulfing the entirety of the spice house. Brown ash was more flammable than expected. Towers of flames rose through the windows, and the mudbrick foundation began to fold in on itself. More and more screamers gathered, some swiped blindly, but most of them stood hypnotized by the flames.

Jere and Eevi crouched as the footsteps of six or seven screamers passed by. They continued on when no more followed.

The last building along the row was Kyösti’s stable house. It was larger than the others, requiring Jere and Eevi to climb up the side of the building. The smell was nauseating; whatever animals had died in there were still decomposing. The two climbed over the edge, taking care to avoid the open holes of the stable. Neither cared to look inside.

Across the street was the city wall. Two fortified towers, standing maybe three meters higher than the walls, stood beside both ends of the outer gate. The gate itself was closed, boarded up by a long wooden plank that bound both doors shut, but escape was on neither Jere nor Eevi’s minds.

There was no time to hesitate. Jere had his scimitar and Eevi her crossbow. They were ready for anything.

Eevi looked around. No screamers. She climbed down the stable walls with haste. Without waiting for Jere to follow, she sprinted across the open ground, making her way to the other side. Jere waited for a moment, hearing nothing but the distant crackles of the burning spice house. He supposed he should thank Eevi for clearing the path, but he found himself upset she left him alone.

“She’s surviving,” Jere thought to himself. “She doesn’t care if you live or die.” Jere followed her across the open space, unsheathing his scimitar to limit the clanking as he ran.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

The passageway into the tower was completely dark. From memory, he recalled that he passed down a hall and took a left before reaching the door. Before, the way had been lit with torches. Jere ran his hand over the stones of the wall, waiting for his fingertips to bristle past an unlit torch handle. Jere reached a dead end and turned left, seeing the slightest outcropping of an open door. Jere was surprised by Eevi’s speed of making it in. It looked like she had already lit a torch.

Jere let himself inside the room, sliding his body past the door to avoid any unnecessary creaking. Before he could get too far, Eevi stopped him, pressing her hand into his chest.

“We’re not alone,” Eevi whispered.

Jere froze and looked around the room. It was a standard Corps housing room, complete with several beds, a large table, and a mess hall. Chairs were pushed out as though whoever last sat there left in a rush. Two torches dimly lit the middle of the room.

As Jere stood still he made out footsteps above.

“Human?” Jere whispered. Eevi said nothing. He realized it made little difference if they were human or not.

Jere listened closely to the footsteps. They were moving, but not urgently. If it was a screamer it hadn’t heard them yet. But the steps were too coordinated. If he had to guess, they sounded human. But how would they respond to visitors? Jere recalled how Eevi reacted to his arrival. She said she would have killed him if she didn’t recognize him. He wasn’t about to take that chance again.

At the end of the room, past the collection of beds, a stone staircase led upwards to the second floor. There was another door on the side that led in between the walls. Other than the entrance, there was no other way in. Jere held his hand out to Eevi and pointed across the room. Eevi nodded, aiming her crossbow at the stairs. Jere slowly crossed, checking each side of the beds as he passed by. Whoever was hanging about, Jere was going to let him come down.

The footsteps circled slightly, before moving back downstairs. They were in a hurry, but not rushed. Excited, almost. Jere could make out the indistinguishable rustling of armor.

“You need to come up!” a man’s voice called out. It was quiet, but unconcerned about anyone else nearby. “Someone lit the spice house on fi-”

The voice stopped. He was right at the edge of the stairs. He would’ve been able to see Eevi and her crossbow clearly.

“Okay,” the voice said, speaking slowly, “I’m unarmed. No need for anything-”

Eevi hissed at him, cutting him off. She tilted her head, beckoning the man to come forward. The torch lights were dim, but Jere could see the person wore standard Guard Corps armor, helmet and all. That meant little though. Was this person in the Corps, or did they just acquire the armor? Did that even make a difference? The last time Jere saw the Corps they attempted to execute him.

“You’re here for food,” the guard continued. “There’s plenty to share. Let’s talk this over.” Before he could continue negotiating, Jere stepped out from behind the stairs, thrusting his scimitar across the guard’s neck and holding it under his chin.

“That’s far enough,” Jere whispered, “unless you wish to taste blade.” He felt the guard’s apple run past his scimitar as he gulped.

“I recognize that voice. Corps?” Jere didn’t reply. The voice was fearful, but poised. It didn’t sound like one of the many young recruits. The guard continued. “Look, I can give you grain. There’s more than enough to share.”

“Shut up,” hissed Eevi. She approached, making sure her aim never left the guard’s head.

“I know you. You ran that tavern on the north side of town.”

“Shame, I don’t know you. Stop talking.”

“You’re making a mistake,” the guard continued, undeterred. “We can work together here.”

Jere tightened his grip on the Guard’s neck. “You should really listen to the lady.”

“HOLD IT!” Another voice shouted from behind Eevi. It was another guard, this one holding a nocked bow a meter behind her head. He was young, with frizzled hair and an intense expression. Jere recognized Adok immediately.

“Fuck me…” Eevi said, exasperated. She kept her crossbow trained on the guard.

“Drop your weapons now!” Adok continued. “Don’t make me ask again, I’ll kill both of you!” He alternated his bow between Jere and Eevi. Jere’s hostage squirmed, he was looking directly at the arrow as well.

Jere moved his head slightly behind the guard, bringing his scimitar tight enough to cut into skin. He realized what the guard had been doing. He was talking just loud enough to get attention. “Clever,” Jere thought. Blood started to trickle down.

“Eevi,” said Jere, quiet and calm. “Get him in your sights. He won’t shoot.”

“Don’t test me!” Adok nearly shouted again. He moved closer, as if an extra two steps would make all the difference. They were all within arm’s reach now.

“I’ll slit his throat!” Jere snarled. He wasn’t even sure whether he was bluffing or not. Either way, seeing Adok again was overwhelming. He had gotten through his stay in the cells by thinking of Boah, of getting his revenge the moment he had the chance. His thoughts strayed to others, though. He thought of how Adok could have let him go during the chaos. How he was the primary reason he had been locked away. How quickly he took Juddken’s side when everything went wrong. More than all of that, though, for as long as Jere known Adok, he was an annoying little shit.

Eevi kept her crossbow aimed at the guard, though she was hesitant. “I don’t know, Jere…”

“Jere?” For a brief moment, Adok lowered his bow.

A brief moment was all he needed. Jere pushed the guard forward, bumping past Eevi and into Adok. Adok’s bow loosened, and the arrow fell out of place onto the ground. Jere charged past the two of them and tackled Adok to the ground, knocking the wind out of him. The scimitar clattered across the ground, Jere’s grip failing him as Adok fell on his hands. Before Adok could retaliate, Jere moved his body across Adok and sat on top of him. Jere grabbed Adok’s tunic armor by the chest plate and landed a punch across his jaw. Adok tried to block the attack but there was little he could do other than stick his hands out in front of his face.

Jere continued punching. One after another. He was lacking his usual strength, but even weakened he was stronger than the average man. Each hit came with retaliation for a wrong. One for being locked in the cells. Another was nearly starving to death. Another was being sold into slavery. It mattered little that Adok had nothing to do with any of that. Jere wanted to kill something. Teeth bounced out of Adok’s mouth. Something cracked, Jere wasn’t sure whether it was his hand or Adok’s skull.

“JERE!” Eevi shouted from behind him. Jere stopped, snapping out of his trance. Eevi was standing behind the guard with her crossbow aimed behind his neck. As Jere came to, he realized she had been shouting at him for several seconds. From this angle, Jere finally saw who he had been holding hostage. It was Heikk. Jere would have recognized him immediately were it not for the helmet. He was a good man, one of the best in the Corps.

Jere turned back to his victim. He was no longer Adok, the pestering little guard. Below him, Jere just saw a young boy, not even eighteen. Adok was limp, having lost consciousness a few punches prior. Half of his face was swollen, his left eye completely closed and his lips ripped to pieces. His nose was broken, and he had punched out several of his front teeth. Jere looked down at his hand, realizing that the crack he heard was his middle knuckle. He had shattered it.

It was a miracle he didn’t kill him.