The boy ran, his hand held tightly by his older sister as they sprinted past the sounds of screams and clashing iron. He caught a glimpse of three men in uniforms unknown, bellowing war cries as they ruthlessly cut down whoever they could reach. They both raced as fast as they could, passing once-familiar streets and buildings now consumed by the inferno of raging flames under the moonlight.

His sister led the way, her long ashen hair swaying before him, wielding a sword in her right hand, while her left maintained an unwavering grip on his. His feet struggled to keep pace, trailing against the ground as she pulled him forward, denying him any respite. Behind them, they left a morose trail of deep crimson, a steady flow from his sister's left side, a fresh wound inflicted by a sword.

Desperation etched across his face, the boy gasped, "What about mother!?" He awaits the comforting reassurance that is his sister's hallmark.

An expectation she betrayed by remaining silent. A small weep escaped her as she fought to hold back tears. The girl, once a bastion of care and love, who had always and effortlessly dispelled his doubts and dangers without fail, now dragged him across the unforgiving pavement, unresponsive to his plea.

"Ellie, I'm going to fall! I can't run anymore!"

Silent determination filled Ellie's gaze as she pulled him harder, escalating their pace. He gasped, his small feet pounding fiercely in contrast to his sister's long strides. The boy stole a backward glance, searching for a familiar face, someone he dimly sensed he'd never see again. Even now, He rejected such a notion. Why couldn't he see her again? He failed to understand, or accept, neither mattered. Death was not a concept he entirely understood or accepted yet, at least not in the sense of its permanence to all things. It's fair to say this boy's childhood had been protected better than others. If one could deem ignorance a blessing, irrespective of age. Perhaps in a different setting, this lack of awareness might have inflicted less pain, especially on a boy destined to discover the truth in a vastly different time.

Vivid recollection flickered, his mother's lifeless form sprawled on the floor, a dagger protruding from her head, her garments strewn across the room as the heartless laughter of many echoed above. Shock seized him, his mind vehemently resisting each attempt at understanding. The memories incessantly looped with every thought of his mother, the only clarity being that she was clearly hurt, a pain that, to him, begged for solace he couldn't provide. Neither he nor his sister stood by to offer comfort, instead, they fled. The act of running away struck him as peculiar, a departure from the expected support in a moment of need.

"Ellie! What about mother? Why isn't she coming with us? Why are we running? She is hurt. I saw."

"Keep running," Ellie answered curtly, her voice a measured cadence, guarding against any emotional breach. She fought to maintain composure, dreading the prospect of breaking down entirely. She couldn't, at least not yet, not when her brother needed safety.

A large guard tower, situated in the distant commerce district, suddenly collapsed. Two bright flashes of light, blue and gold, locked in an intense one-on-one duel, scaled up the tower as it fell. The silhouettes of the combatants vanished into the billowing cloud of dust and smoke along with the tower as it crashed, leaving Ellie in suspense about the outcome of their clash. The reverberations of their confrontation, akin to thunderous distortions, continued echoing through the city.

"Our knights are still standing?" Ellie's voice held a subtle note of relief.

A thunderous roar erupted, possibly an explosion, resonating from the city center. Despite her attempts to discern the unfolding events, the towering buildings obstructed her view. Amidst the gaps, she could only discern a large Anyi flag, now ablaze, a flag she knew belonged to the nearby school just a street away. Her expression tensed once more, head bowed as they passed a corner store where they used to regularly indulge in treats, silently wishing the compassionate owner fortune in life rather than death.

They hurried into the dark confines of an alley, seeking refuge from the blazing inferno that painted the houses behind them. Navigating through its shadows, they eventually stepped onto a broad, eerily quiet street, yet untouched by the flames. With a wary glance and a momentary hush, they pressed forward, soon stumbling upon a grim conflict. Two figures grappled amid the haunting stillness, surrounded by the lifeless forms of both civilians and soldiers. One, donned in distinctive Anyi uniform, skillfully thrust his spear at his adversary, who swiftly blocked with a raised shield.

The Anyi soldier, catching sight of their arrival, scarcely evaded a thrust aimed at his head and bellowed, "Ashern girl! Your tags?!"

"I am a trainee!" she yelled back.

"Then run, I'll buy you some time! Your Ashern kind must survive!" With a forceful thrust that hit the invader's shield, the Anyi warrior pushed forward, intensifying the struggle. Shields collided, spears poised.

She tugged on the boy once more, both of them slipping past the dueling combatants. This time, her pace betrayed the gravity of the situation, slower, breaths laden with the weight of exhaustion. The pristine white of her shirt now further marred, the lower left portion entirely saturated with the dark stain of blood.

Journeying southward, their destination the lone southern gate, consumed nearly an hour of effort. As the minutes dwindled, he found himself shouldering the burden, dragging his sister, whose steps had diminished to a feeble shuffle. A stroke of fortune favored them, the intruders had not seized control of the gate. Instead, it stood unguarded, an almost transient sanctuary in its impression due to the lack of hostility, amid the exodus of civilians abandoning the city.

They both stumbled out of the city, their pace reduced to a crawl, the boy's groans echoed the strain of his exertion, while the girl's resilience waned with every faltering step. His small, fatigued frame, only half the height of his sister's, offered little relief as the increasing burden of her weight pressed upon him. They veered away from the bustling road, dominated by panicked crowds and rattling wagons, and sought a different route in the nearby forest, a choice embraced by many. As the canopy almost enveloped them, the girl succumbed, collapsing at the forest's edge.

The boy, desperately pulling on his sister, pleaded, "Ellie! Please get up! We need to keep going, or they'll get us!" His efforts proved futile as she remained inert, the only sounds reaching him being the strained, labored gasps escaping her. "Ellie?"

She delicately placed her left hand over the wound, applying a gentle pressure to her lower left abdomen. Withdrawn, she examined her hand, now stained with the evidence of her injury. The wound, not deep, but aggravated by constant running and neglect, persisted in oozing, forming a slow, steady stream.

"I should have patched it up," she whispered feebly, finally casting aside the sword she held so tightly until now. "If only I could use aura."

Their father had fallen in the recent, futile defense of a neighboring city. His sister, thrust into responsibility as the sole eligible family member to replace him, quickly began her training soon after. However, having been a trainee for only two weeks at present, and with her body yet to undergo the process of integration, her aura remained absent.

She grasped her brother's arm, pulling him close to ensure her voice reached him. With her weakening state, speaking took great effort. Her voice, a soft and gentle murmur beside his ear, nearly a whisper. "Raid, listen to me. I believe this is as far as I go."

"Wh-what do you mean? We don't go anymore?"

"I've lost too much blood. Any further and I'll just slow you down."

"Will…" he sniffled, holding back a wave of tears. "Will you become like mother?"

She managed a painful smile, her lips shaking. Would he be alright? She wondered. How would he survive in a world like this? Alone? Unaware of its evil? “No,” she lied, avoiding his eyes, “I just need sleep, that's all. Mother's… mother's was different.”

"Rest," he urged, his cheeks reddened, shivering in the cold with inadequate clothing as the first snowflakes of the day descended. "I'll make a fire, warm us up. An-and I'll try to find something to stop the blood. We can go once you're better."

"No," said Ellie firmly. "You need to keep running south, okay? Follow the stars."

The tremors in her brother's voice caught her off guard. "But what about you? I don't want to go on my own. I hate this. I want to go home. Can't the bad men just leave? And you're hurt. I-I don't want you to be like mother."

With a weary smile, Ellie reassured him. "We can't go home, at least not now. And I'm fine, it's just fatigue, weariness. This wound won't kill me, it's a mere scratch, see?"

He glanced at the blood on her side, seeping into the once pristine snow below, transforming its familiar white into a crimson that felt inherently wrong. "But, it looks bad."

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

"It's just looks worse than it is... I just need a bit of rest. But I need you to follow the stars, continue south, I'll be right behind you."

His eyes pleaded. "Can't you come with me? I can't do it alone."

Ellie's gaze softened. "You can, and you will. Don't you trust me? When have I ever been wrong? You're strong. Oh, don't cry, it's alright. Don't cry; it's going to be alright. I'll be right behind you okay? Listen to me carefully, run south as far as you can and never look back. There's a clan named the Rose, they're our distant cousins. Tell them what happened, and they'll take you in, you hear me?"

"But what about you?" Raid cried, his voice filled with concern.

"As I said, I'll be right behind you. Once I am all rested up, I'll quickly catch up, don't you worry," she reassured, determined to conceal any trace of desperation in her voice. She needed him to leave, before she died, before she lost the ability to speak, before he found the lie. Otherwise, he wouldn't leave.

"Then I'll stay here with you, and we'll go together."

"I can't have that. I am a lot faster than you, and we have to get there very fast, okay? So I'll be right beside you before you know it." She paused, a tremor with each breath, trying her best to keep her composure, to make sure her next words reached with utmost clarity. “Raid. Please. You need to heed me now more than any other. You need to understand that you have to run, on your own, that I have to stay. You must go.”

Raid had no response. He just tearfully looked into her eyes, as she struggled to look into his.

"What does mother always say?" she asked, gently.

"That I must always listen to you when she isn't around."

“That's right," she affirmed, her response tinged with a profound sorrow unnoticed by Raid.

"And mother?"

"Forget about mother. You'll see her, and me, sometime in the far future I swear to you. But that won't happen unless you do as I say."

"But..."

"Raid, please,” she interrupted. “Just stop. Do as I say, no more. You need to reach the Rose, where it's safe.” Her each word was on the brink of tears.

"But I don't know the way there."

“See that constellation? It's called Helix Prime. You'll see it till mid-winter, follow it,” She pointed. “It always leads south. When you hit a big river called the Korkit, it means you've reached Pelgid’s border. Follow the river stream south through the Pelgid to the Kundis, and they'll show you to the Rose. But don't talk to anyone in Pelgid lands, they’re not our friends. Do you understand? This is very important. Repeat what I just said."

"I hit a big river, and I follow it. I don't talk to anyone until I get to the Kundis, then they will show me the way. But how do I know if they're the Kundis?"

"You'll see a flag with a silver tree and golden leaves around it, you won't miss it. Kundis border's have their flags everywhere." While she spoke with confidence, even she wasn't sure if that was completely true. All the stories of the Kundis and Rose were tellings from her father, the stars and rivers from her mother. She has never left the now-burning city and its surroundings.

Ellie dug into the snow, attempting to unearth the hard soil beneath. Progress was slow, her strength waning. Plucking at the obstructent grass, she blended snow and soil, gathering what little she could before finally rubbing a scant handful onto Raid's hair.

"It's to keep you safe; it's for good luck."

"I don't like it; it's dirty. I always get yelled at for coming home dirty."

"I am sorry, I won't get mad at you anymore, I promise," Ellie reassured, her smile fragile, hands trembling. "Keep putting dirt on your hair, anything, mud, I don't care. Monsters don't like your ashen hair, okay?"

“I don't want to go if there are monsters."

"You have to go. It's not a choice. Do as I say, you've never rebelled, not now. Promise me, you'll run and never look back. And If you ever lose your way, remember, I'll find you, always. I'll always find you. So don't ever be afraid and keep pushing, keep walking, because you'll never be lost. You hear me?"

"Do you promise? You'll find me?"

Ellie inhaled slowly, suppressing the turbulent emotions within. "Of course, when haven't I? And mother, father too, all of us together." She gently pressed her forehead against his, closing her eyes. Raid's eyes brightened at the mention of his father, unseen for weeks.

"Raid," she uttered gently.

"Yes?"

"You know I love you very, very much, right?"

"Yes," he replied with a hint of reluctance. Accustomed to hearing such words daily from his sister, she had always been there since his earliest memories, unwavering in her care.

Ellie's quivering lips betrayed the depth of her emotion. "I love you so much," she whispered, the words hanging fragile in the air. He strained to catch her words as her face lingered inches from his.

With a gentle push on his arm, she struggled to release her grip, as if grappling with an unseen force. "Ellie?" Raid questioned, sensing the hidden sorrow beneath her attempt to mask it.

"It's nothing. Go." Finally releasing his arm.

"But you're crying."

"I cry when I am tired, I am weird that way." She managed a deep smile. "Please go… Run," she pleaded.

Raid stood frozen for a moment, caught in the crossroads of uncertainty. The desire to stay with his sister tugged at his heart, a visceral urge to defy the inevitable parting. Yet, he knew from past experience that once his sister set her mind on a decision, pleas were as futile as whispers in the wind. A subtle nudge on his shoulder from her sealed his fate. Slowly, with a wavering resolve, he turned away, yearning for her voice to halt his departure. No call came, and he fled, leaving his sister as a silent spectator, her tearful gaze trailing his diminishing figure.

Still within her sight, his form gradually blurred, her eyes now losing function. The thought that this is how they parted, the knowledge this would be their final memory together, forever, disturbed her to no end. Father would never get that retirement he always dreamed of. Mother would never get a better house. And Raid… He would live. The grief she felt was more agonizing than any physical pain, surpassing every other emotion.

This wasn't what she wanted. None of this aligned with her hopes. Raid was meant to take after father, and she, in turn, was destined to embrace the role of a seer. Mother would continue her familiar rhythms, tending to the house, at least until Raid reached into his teenage years. Their collective destiny was to grow old together. Is this what I get? For presuming fate? Was a quiet life too much to ask for?

Even as her body started to fail her, she paid it no heed. A feeble cry escaped her lips, muffled by her hand, an attempt to shield Raid from her anguish, even though she knew he couldn't hear her from this distance. Raid, her cherished little brother, the promise she made to her mother to safeguard in her absence.

"I am so sorry," she whispered, tears mixing with the blood on the ground beneath her. “I wish you well, my dear brother. I will wait for you. We will reunite… and you will share with me the stories of the life you lived. And I would be so proud.”

Raid jolted upright, a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins as if the very air had energized. The morning sun, a celestial painter, brushed its hues across the room through the adjacent window, revealing a place steeped in shadows, his sanctuary. His breath, initially erratic, quickly found a steady slow cadence without his notice, a testament to the training that had sculpted resilience into his very core.

Covering his eyes with a languid hand, Raid sought to corral the chaos within his mind. It had been years since such memories had invaded his dreams. He thought he had outgrown the fearful and insecure child he once was when entering this clan.

"Liar," he whispered, painfully so, the word dripping with the weight of history, almost lost in the quiet morning. With a final, deliberate inhalation, he withdrew his hand and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, ready to confront the day that awaited beyond the echoes of his past.

His body moved involuntarily, guided by a routine he had established in the wake of days spent in this place. His mind wandered far from the present, lost in his thoughts. Retrieving his shirt from the small table positioned at the bed's foot, he paused to give it a quick appraisal by scent, determining it unworthy of an immediate wash. Slipping it on, he concealed the countless scars that tainted his body.

Deep and shallow cuts from swords and daggers alike decorated his back. Judging from their fade and how many had smaller cuts layered over from newer wounds, they were very old injuries. Raid hated his scars, all of them, to him, each mark held memories Raid wished to banish. In truth, not all of these marks were spoiled with negativity, some bore inconsequential tales, even hints of honor. However, his longstanding disdain for the majority corrupted his perception of the rest, compelling him to view them all as unjust reminders of a past he wished to escape. Most were not from combat but during his escape south. The Pelgid had captured him for a short time, a few days if he remembered correctly, painful days, memories he tried to forget but couldn't.

Raid had always covered himself from the neck down, not allowing any exposure of the skin. The scars, while badges of honor to some, were to him the physical manifestation of his shame and embarrassment. They left marks on him, his captors, the people responsible for the loss of his family. The scars they left would forever remind him of them, their existence would continue to live through him as long as breath remained in his body. Even if they were long dead his body managed their existence, even if they were forgotten by their dearest, he held their essence within the recesses of his memories. They would not cease to exist until he did. It disgusted him. Had his sister left a mark or two, perhaps things could have been different. At least then, there would be a tangible trace on his body, a past existence of her will other than his memories.

He traversed to the opposite end of the room, a dance with shadows, arriving near the door where a sturdy cabinet rested against the wall. With a gentle tug, the cabinet yielded, revealing a small, weathered wooden box. Moving to the intricately carved table at the room's heart, Raid sank into one of the two chairs, dismissing the need to illuminate the dim surroundings with the candle that stood solemnly on the tabletop.

As he opened the box, delicate wisps of nostalgia enveloped him. Raid carefully retrieved the final two cigarillos, their aroma carrying myths of distant lands. The act of lighting one became a ritual, a ritual of solace in the face of turmoil, a ritual far less troublesome than the allure of alcohol.

The distant echoes of men engaged in rigorous training penetrated the walls, an ensemble of discipline from the courtyard below. Perched on the second floor of an expansive building complex, Raid's sanctuary overlooked the bustling activity. Lost in contemplation, he gazed absently at the sun's tendrils streaming into his room, attempting to banish the haunting memories of his beloved sister, so it wouldn't cause him any more anguish.