For almost three hundred years, the gates of Ash stood against the forces of the Eivettä. Originally designed by the Urash family, the gates were a monumental project that took almost a decade to complete, requiring sandstone from nearby Shadeon ruins. When the original builders succumbed to the incessant heat, the Urashs turned to the people of the Steppe for slave labor. Upon completion, the Iron Gates of Ash shielded its citizens against raiders, bandits, Merkamensan war elephants, and the cannibal lords of the Steppe over many centuries. Likewise, it proved effective against a horde of more than a thousand screamers.

Although the gates were shut, the screamers continued to gather around, searching for a way in before succumbing to their routine of squatting and crying and self-mutilation. Eventually, others followed. More holiday worshippers. Bandits, presumably looking to take advantage of a crisis. Even a Jyväskian legion had come to investigate. Some escaped, but most did not. After a week, even those who escaped returned, adding their bodies to the ever-growing horde. Lost and alone they waited outside, taking their place amongst tattered huts and decimated caravans.

From the right guard tower, Jere looked out over the screamers. He had come to accept a realization: escape from Ash was impossible. He mulled over this certainty by sipping from a canister of lukewarm wine. It had long gone bad, but he was buzzed. Anything to distract himself from the pain in his broken knuckle.

He had nearly beaten Adok to death. That poor, dumb kid.

Jere heard Eevi come up. She had checked on him multiple times this morning but normally returned below. Jere hoped she would do the same again.

“Is it me, or are there more of them?” Eevi said.

“Hmph,” Jere grunted.

“You don’t think they’ve reached Lockwood already, do you? There’s so many, even considering the Hoilday.”

Jere shrugged. He kept his eyes on the screamers. He watched how they sat in morose pain, ripping what little flesh remained from their limbs. They looked so pathetic from the tower. Pitiful, even.

Eevi leaned her arms over the guardrail next to Jere. Her closeness bothered him.

“Did they say anything new?” Jere finally said. The silence was too uncomfortable.

“Not really,” Eevi sighed. “Their story hasn’t changed. They’re desperate and young… Perhaps you should talk to them.”

“Pass.”

“Look, I don’t know them like you do. They tell me they aren’t with Boah or Juddken. I believe them, but your opinion would settle all doubt.”

“Of course, they’d say that,” said Jere. “They’re part of the Corps. Could be on lookout. We have no way of knowing.”

“You’re also with the Corps. Means jack shit. Did you know them before? They say or do anything that would concern you?”

“Adok is the reason I ended up in the Cells. He could have let me go, but he didn’t.”

“Oh. Well… explains a lot.”

Jere shook his head. “He had no reason to protect me. They would have killed him, I have no doubt. I would have done a lot worse in his place.”

“Hey.” Eevi placed her hands on his shoulder. Jere turned, meeting Eevi’s face. He had never been this close to her face before. Her scar was smoother than he had thought, a lacy lattice of tissue that enveloped her eye, expanding outward up towards her scalp and down to her lip. She had never said what had happened to her. Although scarred, her expression was bright. Her gaze was friendly but commanding. It reminded Jere of someone he knew years ago.

“I understand this is awkward. But we can’t stay here, and unless you plan to kill them we shouldn’t keep them here. We still need to find another way out, because we’re not going out through that.” Eevi pointed towards the desert. “They can help us. And you can talk to them.”

Jere grunted again. Eevi made sense. He sipped more of his wine, but its effect was blunted. It did little to help his pain, and he was still very sober.

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“I’ll… speak with them. Look for holes in their story.”

Eevi smiled. “Excellent. I’ll explore more of these walls and see if there’s anything else I can find.”

The two returned back down the stairs to the mess hall. They took a right, walking down a hallway carved between the walls. After a distance, they reached an adjacent guard tower. It was similar in design to the last one, likewise containing disorganized beds, tables, and chairs. Unlike the other, this one’s staircase continued downward a floor below. The two broke away from each other; Eevi continued down another hall and Jere went down the stairs.

The basement of the tower was short. Jere was forced to crouch to make room. He was greeted by a gated cell blocking the grainery storage. Heikk leaned behind it, sticking his gangly arms through the bars. Adok was behind there somewhere, likely recuperating on a pile of stored grain.

“Jere,” Heikk said, stone-faced.

“Heikk,” Jere replied in kind.

“I have nothing left to say that I haven’t told Eevi already.”

“Good. You’ve had a chance to practice, then.”

Heikk sighed. “Fine. Should I start from the beginning?”

“Just why you’re here. That’s all.”

“As I’ve already said, we’ve been in the Manor since the screaming began. The Corps have been doing their best to keep the peace. Gather food and supplies, remove anyone that gets in our way. Everyone did their part to survive at first. We planned to wait out for rescue, but when the Jyväskian reinforcements fell... they started praying to the old ways of Okkan.”

“Eevi told me. Doesn’t explain why you left.”

“You’ve seen the Manor, right? They’re killing anyone who speaks up. Not even the Heads are safe. Not that it’s our business, but Adok and I come from desertfolk. They’d find out we’ve once worshipped Ati. We needed to get away from the Manor, and this is the only place with food.”

“And the only other place they routinely come to. Not very smart.”

“We don’t plan to stay.”

“So you want to escape?”

“Escape is impossible… No, you have to understand,” Heikk leaned forward, putting his hands together, “I heard what Boah did to you. He’s ordering Shadeon Law. Sleeping near him is far from ideal. Believe it or not, last night was the first good night of sleep I’ve had in moons. Can’t speak for Adok though.”

Jere ignored the slight. “What’s next?”

“We were going to wait for an opening. They don’t care where we sleep as long as we don’t get scratched. We told Juddken we’d guard the grainery, but the first chance we get we’re making a break for it. Maybe the screamers will start dying, or maybe more distractions will come.”

“You don’t have water, ignoramus. How did you expect to get through the desert?”

“We’re not leaving yet, dick. Walking out of the Manor with a month’s supply of water looks suspicious. You can criticize us all you want but you haven’t been there.”

“Right. Thanks to the other one.” Jere did an exaggerated nod, looking over the cell. “Manor sounds pleasant compared to the Cells. Bet it’s quieter.”

Heikk shook his head. “Okay, you don’t believe me. Fine. Could Adok change your mind?”

Jere was hesitant to admit so. “Is he asleep?”

“Adok!” Heikk called. “Talk to him.”

A grumbling arose from the other end of the cell. Heikk backed away, allowing Adok to take his place. The young guard was sullen and mopey, though it was easy to see why. His bruised eye had worsened. Jere hadn’t broken the boy’s skull, but he had gotten about as close as possible. His nose was crooked, and his lips were cut in multiple places. Adok kept his good eye trained toward the floor, refusing to even look at Jere’s feet. He stopped some two meters away from the door.

“Well,” Jere spoke first, after some hesitation. “Ever thought you'd see me again?”

Adok didn’t respond. He kept his gaze on the floor.

“Gonna confirm his story?” continued Jere. “Or will you tell me what’s really going on?”

“I’m sorry.” Adok’s voice slurred under the weight of his swollen cheek.

“Huh?”

Adok looked up. His good eye was watering. He was holding back tears. “I’m sorry,” he said again, this time barely above a whisper. “You were supposed to be dead. I thought I killed you.”

Jere wasn’t expecting this. “I told you, kid. You did what you had to do.”

“I knew it was wrong.” Adok’s tears were coming stronger, almost sobbing. “I knew it was wrong but I let it happen anyway. You should have died and I- I was the one that stopped you!”

Jere didn’t know what to say. He tried to imagine himself in Adok’s place. If he were young and surrounded by men happy to kill anyone they were told to. He wouldn’t have even given himself a chance to run. Adok did.

“Please forgive me! I could never live with myself after what I did… Even though I know you are safe I can only imagine what you’ve been through. My pain is nothing compared to yours! I deserve what you did to me! No… No, I deserve death. Only that could make up for what I’ve caused! On my mother’s soul, please forgive me!”

Adok wasn’t mocking him. He was being genuine. He had been building this up for some time. He must have spent every waking hour thinking about it. Jere had spent many nights cursing Adok’s name along with others. It was easier than what Adok must have thought in return.

This was all too much. Jere turned away, heading up the stairs in defiance of Adok’s pleading.

As Jere returned to the mess hall, he encountered Eevi. “What did they say?” she asked.

“Let them go,” Jere said as he pushed past her.