Even though many days have passed, the smell of burning flesh still lingered on his nose, her screams still echoed in his head. He sat near a broken archway, his fingers wrapped around a rusted canteen, observing the city's empty husks glisten in the half-light of Veil-mist.
He couldn't help but think of the child.
The instant when the fire consumed her small limbs. The horrified expression the chalid had. The voice of the priest ringing like scripture inscribed in stone.
"In fire, evil is cleansed."
Kael squeezed his eyes shut, clutching his temples. I couldn't save her. But… what was I even supposed to do?
He kept telling himself it was survival. That moving forward would've left both of them dead. That the world was cruel and he was just desperate to live another day.
But the words never settled right.
A soft voice stirred him from his guilt.
"Still beating yourself up?"
He turned to find Seala, her white-blonde hair pulled back under a hood, arms crossed. She approached, a pack on her back.
"You weren't there," he muttered.
"I saw the smoke." She crouched beside him, voice gentler. "And I saw your face when you came back."
Kael remained quiet. Seala let out a soft sigh and sat next to him, her shoulder against his.
"You feel like a monster because you did nothing," she said. "But Kael, do you have any idea how many saw that fire and looked away? You're still hurt. That means something."
He balled his fists. "Hurting means nothing, it doesn't change the truth that, I still did nothing to save her."
Her voice softened. "You were a child, facing a mob. That priest—he's killed more for less. You're not a coward Kael."
His breath caught. Part of him wanted to scream. Another part just wanted to bury his face in her shoulder and never lift it again.
Instead, he said, "I could've pulled her. I was close enough."
Seala brushed her hand over his head.
"You couldn't have saved her. But maybe… someday, you'll be strong enough to save the next one."
Silence stretched between them, heavy, but warmer now.
Finally, Kael nodded.
She smiled softly and bumped her shoulder into his. "Come on. Aric's probably waiting."
Kael held himself together, after hearing these words from her he told himself "I have to become stronger.... if I wanna keep my loved ones safe. I have to."
---
Later that day, Kael and Aric got together and Headed into the city because they needed to scavenge for supplies again.
Arvenmoor's west quarter was a graveyard of cracked domes and collapsed sanctuaries. Kael and Aric crept through the remains of an old clinic, scavenging for dried roots, canisters, anything remotely edible or medicinal.
"We've been out here too long," Aric muttered, peering through a cracked window. His hand hovered near his shortblade. "You see that patrol earlier?"
"Two guards. They Looked tired," Kael replied.
"Yeah, exhausted enough to burn another kid for coughing too loudly."
Kael winced at the words but said nothing.
They found an old cellar behind a collapsed door. Inside: jars of crushed herbs, a few bandages, brittle but usable. Kael's hand closed around a batch of sealed healing potions and a faint smile crept to his lips.
"Jackpot."
That's when they heard it.
Metal boots. Whispered prayers.
Aric stiffened. "Shit. They're here."
The Church patrol didn't sound enormous, but there were at least four sets of boots, and worse—Kael recognized that chant.
"Ash to ash, flesh to flame."
He glanced at Aric. "We'll separate. Meet me at the breach tunnel. I'll distract them."
"You sure?" Aric asked him.
Kael nodded sternly. "Now Go."
Aric complied with Kael and fled the scene.
Kael shouted at the gaurds to come and get him, he had managed to get the soldier's attention he grabbed what he could, and ran into a broad open street flanked by crumbling statues and broken altars. Arrows thudded into stone behind him. One scraped his arm, ripping his sleeve.
The guards pursued him.
"By decree of the Hollow Flame—HALT!"
Kael didn't look back.
He vaulted over a crumbling cart, ducked under a fallen pillar, and slid across moss-covered cobblestone. Every breath burned. Every step echoed with steel.
He burst through the remnants of a collapsed temple, sunlight filtering through cracks in the broken dome. He shoved over a loose support beam—timing it perfectly to slow the two guards behind him.
But more emerged from side streets, flanking him.
Think. Think.
Kael dashed through a bone-choked alley, vaulted through a narrow grate into the back of a flooded bathhouse. The stench was suffocating. He didn't stop.
"HE'S IN THE WASH-HOUSE!"
More boots. More torches.
Kael leapt onto a broken statue, used its head as a springboard to grab a rusted pipe, and pulled himself up through a collapsed roof.
Now he was running across rooftops.
Below him, the guards scrambled. Arrows flew. One clipped the edge of his boot, sending him tumbling across tiles.
He rolled, leapt, and landed hard on another roof—only for it to give out beneath him.
Kael crashed into a bakery below, covered in flour.
He coughed, pushed up—and ran.
He barreled out the front door, twisted through an old shrine courtyard, and ducked into a narrow stone channel once used for ritual water flow.
He was nearly out.
A spear-wielding guard dropped in front of him.
Kael skidded to a halt.
The guard lunged.
Kael grabbed a chunk of broken offering bowl, smashed it into the guard's face, twisted past him, and sprinted again.
Through the mist. Through the prayers. Through the screams in his own head.
He could see the tunnel—his exit.
Another arrow flew.
It missed by inches.
Kael dove.
Tumbled down a slope.
Landed beside Aric.
Aric grinned, panting. "You took your time."
Kael gasped, laughing and coughing. "I took the scenic route."
They leaned against the wall, breathless.
---
The entrance to the hideout was nestled between two collapsed mausoleums. Seala met them at the gate, arms crossed.
"Really?" she said, voice tight. "You brought them that close?"
Kael held up the healing potions. "Worth it."
Seala rolled her eyes and turned to lead them in. As they slipped inside, the stone gate sliding shut behind them, but they didn't notice from the shadows of a crumbling tower, someone else had watched the whole escape unfold. A lone figure wrapped in a tattered shawl, face obscured, hands trembling. They turned and vanished into the smoke-choked alleys, carrying Kael's name on their tongue and a trail of danger at their heel.
End of chapter 2.