The streets of the market district were heavily crowded, and filled with a deafening blend of voices. As Seida slowly made her way through the rabble of shoppers, she kept an ear out for any interesting news. If there was one thing the city of Kall was good for, it was gathering gossip. Thus far, she’d managed to gather quite a bit of useful information by simply passing through the crowds throughout the day.
Perhaps the most intriguing bit of gossip she had gathered was the recent string of dragon attacks on the southern coast of Tigran. Though none had been at the hands of a titan, they were worrisome nonetheless. A dragon attack had been what got her into her current situation; on the run and forced to hide. But dragon attacks were not the only bit of information she had come to hear in the streets. There were more dangerous, personal rumors floating about as well.
Seida paused as she passed by the public board outside of City Hall. There was a mess of fliers and posters pinned to the old wooden board, ranging from public announcements about city affairs to wanted posters for fugitives. In the past two weeks since her arrival in the city, she’d developed a routine of checking it multiple times a day. Every day there seemed to be new faces of outlaws wanted by the law plastered to the ‘Wanted’ section. And every day she wondered when her own would appear on the board. Thus far, she and the others were still in the clear.
Not wanting to linger in sight of the city guard too long, Seida looped back towards the market to do another few laps before calling it a day. The sun was beginning to set already, and the bitter cold winter wind was biting at her fingers and her nose, even through her gloves and scarf. The day hadn’t been productive enough to withstand the cold much longer. The hunger pains from three days without food weren’t helping her resolve either.
Most of the gossip she’d gathered today had been repetitive, old news—dragons to the south, local politics, and the ever growing tensions between the united kingdoms of Tigran and their rival empire, Agmedus. Only once had she heard news of a group of deserters from the Order of the Four Winds. But with such tense relations between much of Tigran and the Order, the rumor carried very little weight, and her face had remained off of the city wanted board. For the moment, at least.
Never in all her life did Seida ever expect to be where she was currently; forced into hiding with no resources, no contacts, and no friends to call on for help. There was no telling who she could trust anymore. Having once worked to bring in deserters like herself, she knew just how quickly gold and threats could turn loved ones and friends against each other. She’d seen it countless times before. And if it wasn’t bribery or threats, there was the very real danger of persecution for aiding a deserter. She’d seen her fair share of people hanged for aiding runaways, too. For the first time in her life, she was truly and utterly on her own.
Having her two young apprentices and her sister in tow didn’t ease her burdens either. Keeping them all fed and safely hidden had proven to be a monumental task—one that Seida was determined not to fail in. Her sister’s life was on the line, as was her own. To be caught by the Order would mean certain death for Seida, and severe punishment for the boys and her sister. Her heart began to race as her mind continued to wander from scenario to scenario of things that could go wrong.
“Stop your fretting,” Seida muttered to herself. Tapping her thumbs to her fingers to calm her nerves, she followed the smell of cooking food towards the pub she’d been stopping at every now and again. An ale would at least help quiet her stomach temporarily, and if she had enough coin left, she could buy a house meal for the others to share. Keeping two teenage boys cooped up in a house day and night was not easy, especially when there wasn’t enough food to go around for all four of them. A treat wasn’t much of an apology for their situation, but they did love good food. She wished desperately that things had played out differently than they had thus far.
Nudging through the crowd at the door, she made her way inside the Silver Fae Pub. A tall and sturdy Mutraal woman tended the bar, buffing a pitcher that in her enormous hands looked to be little more than a tea cup. Her head just barely missed the beams of the roof over eight feet above the ground. She didn’t look up from her work as Seida settled down a few seats away from her at the bar.
Ahni, as she had come to know the barkeeper as, had been in the city only a few weeks longer than Seida. Finding employment as a half-giant, as Ahni had put it, was not so difficult. If there wasn’t a pub looking to hire a barkeeper that could handle breaking up bar fights, then there was always work as a private guard in some lord or lady’s employ, or as a hired guard for a trading company. Regardless of her job, she was bound to crack a few skulls, fatally or otherwise. Seida had come to enjoy speaking with her greatly. Her dry humor was a much needed reprieve from her own worries. On a few occasions, she’d sent Seida home with leftovers from the kitchen, despite Seida’s mixed feelings about accepting such charitable handouts. This was as close to a friendship as she could get, for the moment.
“What’ll it be, Mona?” Ahni finally asked her once she’d finished polishing her pitcher. She placed her hands on the bar, flashing several scars on her knuckles and the runic tattoos on her hands and forearms. “You look like you need a drink.”
“Very perceptive of you. A pint of the house ale would be nice. What’s the special today?”
“Beruit’s cooking his beef and potato stew again. Nothing extra special, but it’ll fill some hungry bellies.” Ahni turned around to one of the wooden barrels on the back wall and grabbed a pint glass. She had her blonde hair braided all the way down her back. “How are your boys doing? You said they were both feeling a bit under the weather last time you were in.”
Seida tensed slightly, glancing side to side. There was the nagging feeling of eyes on her, but she saw no one looking. She had almost forgotten she’d mentioned the boys by mistake on her last visit. “They’re much better now.”
“Is it just the three of you? Never seen any man with you yet, and you’ve never mentioned one.” Ahni turned back around and set the pint of mead down before her.
Seida took a long drink of mead. “Just the three of us. Their father disappeared a long time ago.”
“Bah, men are useless,” Ahni scoffed. “Men back home on the Iron Mountain are only good at two things; butting heads and drinking mead. Half of them forget they even have families to go home to once they sit down in the mead hall. That’s why our women rule.” Ahni’s head snapped up as two men by the firepit started to shout at one another. The poor serving girl caught between them was desperately looking to Ahni for help. She heaved a sigh and cracked her knuckles. “I’ll be right back.”
Seida nodded absently and took another swig from her drink. Ale was no substitute for a real meal, but it at least kept her hunger at bay. As someone took the seat on her right, she looked over and smiled tiredly. The man smiled back, almost having to shout hello over the sound of the men arguing. Ahni whistled to get their attention from the corner of the bar, but they paid her no mind.
Another man took the seat on Seida’s left, and made a comment about the cold to the man on her right. She tightened her grip on her pint, feeling uneasy. They seemed like normal patrons, but there were plenty of other open seats at the bar where they could have sat together.
“Sorry to be so forward with you, Miss, but that’s a right nasty scar you’ve got on your face,” The man on her left said. He was human, as far Seida could tell. He wore a fur hat and coat, and half his face was hidden behind a thick, rusty-brown beard. “How’d such a pretty gal get such a bad cut like that?”
“Hunting accident when I was younger,” Seida said bluntly. Now she definitely didn’t like these men. It wasn’t too often she was approached like this at bars, but the men that did always seemed to bring up the scar or her eye.
“I don’t think I've ever seen you here before. You new in town?” The man on her right asked. He was also human, with the same sort of coat and hat. But this one had a clean shaven face, revealing pale skin covered with little scars and pits. Behind them, Ahni was growling at the two men about disturbing the peace of her tavern. The two didn’t seem to care much about the half-giant looming over them, and continued on with their argument.
“You could say that.” Seida answered.
“Must be hard being a single mother on the move. Where are you from?” A third stranger asked, this one an elven woman with curly blond hair that sat two seats down on Seida’s right. “Sorry to eavesdrop on you, but it seems like there’s a lot of single parents these days, with all that’s going on in the world.”
“We’re from The Sine, originally. When things started getting bad with Genosistrous again, I pulled us out of there. A warzone is no place for young boys.” Seida drummed her fingers on her pint glass, wishing very much that Ahni would finish settling the routy men down so she wasn’t alone with these strangers. Perhaps she was just paranoid, but her training as a Scouter had taught her to approach targets in a very similar manner—friendly, nonchalant, non threatening. Were these three with the Order? Or were they bounty hunters?
“Tough place for kids to grow up, it’s true.” The woman nodded. Something in the way she smiled sent a shiver down Seida’s spine. It was a wolfish, nasty grin. With the three of them looming on either side of her, she felt trapped. “Though… you don’t sound like a Sinnian yourself. You sound more northern than that.”
“I wasn’t born in the Sine, but my boys were. It’s where their father was from.” Seida glanced over her shoulder. Ahni had both men dangling in the air, holding them by their scruffs like they were nothing more than rowdy young children. She was growling at them through clenched teeth about what would happen next if the two didn’t get along peacefully in her bar and leave the serving girls alone. Gods above, why did it feel so stifling inside all of a sudden? “Well, enough about me. What about you folks? What’s your story?”
“I suppose we’re being rude, not introducing ourselves.” The man on the left dipped his head in a sort of bow. “Name’s Malvon. This is my brother, Betor, and his wife, Nalessa. We’ve been traveling all over Tigran since things started going bad out west. Seems this is one of the only places to be where war and chaos aren’t lurking around every corner… yet, that is.”
An alarm went off in her head. Did he mean war and chaos, or War and Chaos? She looked down at her drink and took one last swig. It could very well be the last thing she ever did. They were far worse than any bounty hunter or scouter from the Order, if her fears were correct. Malvon leaned in a little closer to her. She dropped her hands from her mug and rested her hand on her dagger, ready to fight or flee.
“We can make this easy, little storm caller. Give us the girl, and we’ll let you and your boys go free.” Malvon whispered. Seida could see him reaching a hand into his jacket. Was he reaching for a weapon? “What’s so special about the Oracle anyway? What good is she to you now, so far from Ist’Heom? Hasn’t the Order taken enough from you, Seida Mauvir?”
“The Red Dawn will never have the Oracle. Not while I breathe.” Seida drew her blade and stabbed it into the back of Malvon’s hand that was resting on the bar, pinning it to the bar. He howled in agony, making everyone in the bar jump in shock. She pulled her blade free, taking the opportunity to run for the door as the other two cultists registered what was happening.
“Get her! Don’t let that fugitive get away!” Malvon roared as Seida shoved her way through the crowd by the door and into the streets. She looked to her left and right, slipping the dagger back into its sheath before going right, gently pushing her way through the stunned crowd outside. Thankfully, no guards had come to investigate the commotion, and no one in the crowd attempted to stop her. Behind her, she could hear the other two cultists shouting from the doorway for people to stop her.
She darted down the nearest narrow back alley, desperate to lose them before they could give chase. Her heart was already pounding against her ribs. This was her worst scenario come to life. She was a deserter—a fugitive with no sway with the law. Her former status as a Red Division scouter meant absolutely nothing. It was their word against hers, and she knew precisely which party held the power. The cultists had her hands tied. Her only hope now was to lose them in the streets before retrieving the others and fleeing the city.
The sound of boots on the cobblestone streets was all she needed to know that the other two cultists were hot on her trail. She took a sudden turn as another alley intersected the narrow street she was on. She could hear voices of the crowds shuffling home from the market still nearby. Her best bet was to get lost in the crowds before making her way back to the safehouse
The Red Dawn may have had the upper hand, but they couldn’t afford to be caught by the city guard either. Their affiliation with the cult meant certain death for them, too. Ten’Doyr had strict regulations about bounty hunting, especially where the Order and its deserters were concerned. She was determined to use that to her advantage as best she could.
She slowed her pace to a fast walk as she reached the open market street. Parting the crowd, she made her way into the thick of the rabble, hoping to blend in. From somewhere behind her, she heard the cultists forcing their way through the crowds to get to her. She drew her hood, not daring to look back at them. If she just kept her head down and continued to weave through the crowd, perhaps she could lose them without conflict.
Making her way against the flow of people walking by, she politely parted the crowds, not daring to move too fast for fear of catching the eye of one of the many guards that were suddenly patrolling the area. Her only clues that she was still being followed were the aggressive questions of the cultists as they demanded that people point them in the direction of the woman with a scar on her face and a dead eye. And it seemed their tactics were not going unnoticed by the guards.
As they stopped one woman and asked her where the woman with the scar went, she cried out and demanded they let her go and leave her alone. Seida saw two guards that were leaning against a wall on her right walk over to investigate. Despite knowing better, she paused and looked over her shoulder. As the guards blocked their path, the cultists spotted her and pointed, crying about a violent criminal escaping their clutches. But Seida was already continuing on her way, hood drawn and face hidden.
She quickly made a left turn down a less crowded street and broke out into a full on sprint once she was out of sight. Her heart was fluttering wildly now, and her hands trembled. That was entirely too close for comfort, and the others were still in danger as long as they were in the city. With no time to lose, she took several more twisting turns as she retraced her steps back to the safehouse on the edge of the city.
About two streets down from the house, she looked over her shoulder, ensuring that she had truly lost her pursuers. Even in a four against two scenario, there was no telling what magic the agents of the Red Dawn were equipped with. As much as she trusted the boys in their abilities, they still had much to learn. Once she was certain she was not being followed, she walked quickly the rest of the way to the house.
The door was still perfectly intact as she reached the safehouse. She knocked hard on the door three times, then softly twice. To her relief, she heard scrambling feet as someone ran to the door. They were all safe, for the moment. She rested her head against the door for a moment to catch her breath. The sun had almost completely set now, and the desert air was growing colder by the minute.
“Who goes there?” Gregorim’s voice asked through the door, in his best attempt to sound gruffer and older than he was.
Seida couldn’t help but smile, despite her stomach’s desire to do a full backflip and empty its contents. She stood up straight, desperately trying not to seem as scared as she was. “One who guards Fate’s Right Hand.”
There was a clicking sound as the lock on the door was unlocked and creaked open a crack. Gregorim’s face peered around the door at her. He sighed in relief and opened the door for her to come inside.
“You’re back late,” he said as she slipped inside and promptly locked the door behind them. He looked her up and down with his scrutinous brown eyes and crossed his long, lankyq arms. “You look pale, and you’re breathing hard. Has something happened?”
“Unfortunately, yes. We need to leave now. We have no time to waste.”
“Has the Order found us?” Her sister, Sadra, stood up from the dining table where she sat with Tauren. She did her best to seem unphased, but Seida knew she was terrified of being caught. She knew better than the boys what would befall them all if the Order caught up with them
“No.” Seida desperately didn’t want to frighten her sister anymore than she already was. There had been enough attempts on her life within the last month. But there was no keeping anything from a girl as perceptive as Sadra.
“I should have known those blighted demon worshippers would find me first.” Sadra stiffened, clenching her hands into fists at her side and lifting her chin to keep her composure. Despite her obvious desire to sound unphased, her voice quivered. “How many are there?”
“Three of them that I saw, but one is injured. They cornered me at a pub. I managed to lose them, but we have to leave now, before they find us again.” Seida kicked the rug in the center of the room aside, revealing the casting circle and runes that made up her one-use waypoint. “Are all your bags still packed?”
“There’s just a couple things we need to grab. Come on, Tauren. I’ll need your help grabbing our bags.” Sadra coaxed the pale, freckled boy next to her out of his chair and guided him to the back room where they slept. Gregorim followed them, looking back over his shoulder at Seida as he went. She smiled bracingly as she drew her dagger from her belt and wiped it on her pants to clean the blood off.
She knelt over the casting circle, whispering the priming spell under her breath. The runes began to glow red as the circle activated. With the tip of the dagger, she pricked a hole in her thumb and squeezed a few drops into the center of the circle. They hit the wooden floor with a sizzling hiss. The runes flashed from red to white as the portal began to prime itself. She stood up, tapping her foot impatiently on the floor. They would only have a few minutes before the portal opened and then closed.
“The waypoint is just about ready. Let’s get a move on,” Seida urged. The waypoint was opening now. A white light had formed above the portal, shimmering and waving like rippling water in the midday sun.
“We’re coming.” Sadra reemerged from the bedroom with the boys in tow. Gregorim had both his own bag and Seida’s slung over his broad shoulders. He had to duck coming out of the bedroom because he was taller than the doorframe. They all gathered around Seida, joining hands as the waypoint fully opened, bathing them all in a bright white light. It was warm to the touch, like a beam of sunlight. Seida breathed a sigh of relief. They were safe again, for the moment.
They all jumped as someone banged on the door heavily, making the old, rusty hinges creak and rattle. Sadra screamed in surprise, clamping down tightly on Seida’s hand. Seida’s stomach did yet another backflip. She squeezed both Sadra’s and Tauren’s hands tightly as she quickly began to mutter the final part of the spell to connect her waypoint to the one at their point of exit. All she needed was a few more seconds. Just a few precious, crucial seconds and then they’d be almost a thousand miles away, safe again.
“Open up! We know you’re in there, little storm callers!” It was the man she’d stabbed at the bar, Malvon. He and his companions beat against the door again, and one of the hinges gave way “I’m afraid I’m done playing nice now, Miss Seida. Give us the Oracle!”
“I’m afraid I won’t be doing that, Malvon.” Seida called as she finished the spell. The white light began to circle them in a spiral now. She felt her feet lift off the ground as the waypoint prepared to take them through. “The Red Dawn will have to try harder than this next time.”
With a final bang, the door caved in. Just before the waypoint pulled the four of them through, she caught a glimpse of Malvon’s enraged face and bandaged hand held above his heart. His enraged roar echoed in her ears as she closed her eyes and allowed the magic to transport them far away from Ten’Doyr and the city of Kall.