By now other mercenaries and some guards had joined them in their watch of the unknown past the gates. Being the first one’s there Peter had a good view of the shadows approaching them but due to the thickness of the fog even he couldn’t see what they belonged to. A messenger was sent to the manor when the shadows were seen but so far no one had responded.

‘Idle minds are the devils playgrounds,’ Peter smiled bitterly, ‘Luvrit read something like that before, never got what it meant until now.’

With nothing to do and confined within the desolate grounds that were cut off from the city with an impending threat of the undead making their way uphill, the devil was not needed to create such tension. From the looks of the men around him it was clear what they thought those shadows meant. After all, for the past few hours no-one else had made their way up hill, so the hopes that any new survivors may have found their way was naught.

‘Hope she’s okay, ’cause that was the most perfect ass I ever had. Too bad she couldn’t handle a free spirit like me…eeeh, she knows how to take care of herself, she’s got that giant with her too. Surely she’ll be fine.’

As if Luvrit could hear his thoughts Peter felt a hand on his shoulder from his best friend.

“You know she’ll be fine,” Luvrit gave him a reassuring squeeze. “I told you; don’t do the deed if you can’t handle the consequences.”

“I know,” Peter shrug off his hand. “You can’t have two ladies at once, but I can’t help it if I want Red.”

Luvrit gave a solemn nod before returning his gaze to shadows.

‘Asshole, it was you who told her about Martha,’ Peter snarled at the humiliating and painful memory. Being found in bed with another woman by a two strike mercenary was not a highlight of his career, not that there were many to count from.

“Oramus S. Martha ad illa custodiet a malo defendat, et ad tenebras. Illa dabit tutum iter per eos in angustia temporum. O domine, da nobis gratiam et virtutem, ut in his temporibus, ut possimus vivere esse decoravit cum lux vestra iterum.”

One of the gate guards had begun praying in a hushed and hurried manor as soon as the messenger had been sent, but now his prayers were getting increasingly annoying. The guard was of old age, visible by the trimmed white beard jutting out from under his helmet and the stretched skin on his neck. He wore a steel armor with the engraved insignia of one under employment of the von Solus house, a red feather was coming out from the helmet to express his position as a gate guard.

“Hey gramps, this ain’t any time to be praying to your Saint, we gotta be ready for battle we don’t have time for your prattles.”Peter said grimly.

“Gotta make amends with the lord above before I die in this battle, aint no way I’m going down there.”

“Oh come on, you’re gonna’ live long just like the rest of us.” Peter placed a hand on the elders shoulder bringing him closer. “But just in case…I’ll buy you a drink if you say a few words so me.”

“A longer life is not a comfort when you’re my age,” the guard smiled grimly. “What’s your-”

“On my mark!” A guard from atop one of the watchtowers at each corner yelled.

“Guess they’re in range now.” Peter murmured.

“Ha, the captain can’t see shite in this fog, it’s even worse up there. He’ll be relyin’ on the youn’uns down here for a signal.” The old man nodded at another guard. He wore similar armor but was much younger, showing only a shadow of a growing beard.

“He’s got good eyes?” Peter inquired.

“And nose too, so he’ll be able to smell the decayed flesh from here.”

“Well then I guess we’re in the same-”

“Stop!”

Everyone suddenly turned around to see Lidia striding over with a well dressed oldman following close behind. The crowd parted in synch to allow her a clear path to the gates; despite their dangerous profession they all feared angering the duke, who was infamous amongst the mercenaries as a fearsome mage. Lidia strode towards the gate and coincidently came up right next to Peter. The old guard calmly bowed and moved away, while the young one contradicted his elder’s actions.

“Miss Lidia what are you doing here? It is very dangerous to be out right now,” He exclaimed, pushing past Luvrit and another merc.

“I know that perfectly well how dangerous it may be, but seeing as how…” Lidia peered closer past the iron, squinting in concentration. “…you aim to kill humans I have to intervene.”

“What?” Everyone around her exclaimed.

“My Lady, what are you doing here?” The captain from the top of the towers asked as he ran towards her, pushing through the crowd.

“I came here, Leorin, to stop you from killing innocents.”

“What?”

“You,” Lidia pointed to the young guard. “You have an exceptional sense of smell, do you not?”

“Wh-what?” The young guard asked, confusedly.

*Sigh*“You have a good nose, yes?”

“Y-yes, my lady”

“Do you smell decaying flesh?”

The young guard made an effort to smell the air before replying. “I can’t smell it, but the fog is likely hiding the smell, ma’am.”

Peter also made a concentrated effort to smell what the wind was carrying but like the guard couldn’t smell anything like dead flesh, even though he was upwind.

“I agree with the lady here, I also can’t smell any dead flesh.” Peter spoke up. “The wind is carrying the smells just fine; it’s just that there isn’t any dead flesh present.”

Lidia gave Peter a slight smile before addressing the captain. “My point precisely, captain. Archers! Stand down! Open the gates we have more survivors.”

A hushed agreement travelled amongst the woven crowd of guards and mercenaries as they followed Lidia out. The path snaked down, diminishing to dirt from the cobblestone path it once was, shaping the crowd to its contours. Lidia led with purposeful strides faithful in the safety of her hill, yet in her haste provided great fright to her shield bearers as they struggled to fulfill their duties. Following closely behind was a bulkier group composed mostly of high strike mercenaries among whom Luvrit’s group had fallen in.

As the group made its way through the fog the humanoid shapes became more definite, eventually turning into recognizable figures of townsfolk. Dirty, ragged, and bruised they slowly walked up the dirt track in a transient state before the exhaustion caught up to them. They covered whatever they could with the boards of doors or signs fallen throughout the city. Each bristle of wood, each wound told a tale of their failure to keep the monsters at bay; chipped wood, broken weapons and their inability to notice help only a few meters away expressed it all.

Taken aback by their appearance Lidia faltered and in her hesitation allowed her shield bearers to catch up. Breaking out of her trance she pushed past the guards and announced their arrival by giving commands to her followers. The group separated and surrounded the struggling citizens, some providing support for the wounded while others protection. In the action some citizens came out of their stupor only to cry and weep as they had done the whole night while the rest continued on in silence giving no indication of their awareness.

Much like the behavior of the citizens, Peter exhibited an unusual mindless attitude as he made his way through the crowd, his head snapping everywhere trying to take in all the faces only to discard those features moments later. He was here for one particular person and she couldn’t be found anywhere. When everyone had paired up or taken up their positions around the people Peter was left behind as the crowd marched forward.

Peter stood still until Luvrit came over and placed that bastardly hand of pity on his shoulder. How could he just accept her death like it was so common, doesn’t he care?-Wait when did he start caring like that? Wasn’t she just an ass, she wasn’t family like Fliss or Luvrit? They weren’t in danger, he was perfectly fine but not knowing what happened to her hit him harder than he liked.

“I can’t find her Luvrit,” Peter said. ‘Fuck it, now I’m dumb. All because of that red haired, tanned ass beaut-bitch!’

“I know,” Luvrit said matter-of-factly.

‘Fuck you, you’re supposed to be the smartest one of us all can’t you come up with something! Dammit-wait! There were kids in that group…she always throws her life away for them. What did she do that time? C’mon idiot, THINK!!’

“Peter?” Luvrit asked. “We gotta go now.”

Luvrit tried pulling him back but Peter swatted his arm away, instead came up to face with his counterpart.

“Think!” He hissed. Seeing the clear confusion with on Luvrit’s face Peter elaborated. “There were kids in that group, yeah?”

Luvirt nodded.

“Sh-She never leaves children just like that,” Peter swayed his head in a left-right motion as if it will convince the other blond. “Remember Estile? She killed the Alexandrian and lashed out at Volvo when she found out about the kids. She’ll never just leave them like that.”

“Peter,” Luvrit started.

“Don’t use that tone with me, I know what I’m talking about.”

“What if she got more than she could handle?” Luvrit said. “She’s not immortal-”

“Even if she had her arms cut off, she’ll make sure they’re safe by walking on her two legs, unless…” A sense realization broke into Peter’s mind instilling an idea which filled him with dread. “Unless she was too much of a burden and she stayed behind.”

“Hey guys!” Fliss called over as he ran over with Natravi following close behind. “Miss Lidia’s going to close the gate on us if we don’t get you all inside. She doesn’t sound happy.”

“Just because I was seen around you guys I will be left out as well,” Natravi said icily. “I don’t care what that person does to me, but I would rather have Fliss inside the safety of the walls and that means getting you two inside, too.”

“Arrgh,” Peter aggressively kicked the rock downhill. “I swear if I don’t die from battle first, these ladies will be the death of me. Luvrit, tell her that if I don’t come back with another survivor she can close the gate on me. The rest of you get inside.”

And with that Peter turned to run downhill in search for ‘Red’, ignoring the shouts from his friend above. Luvrit could’ve easily caught up with him, but thankfully he knew Peter had to do this on his own. A minute passed an already twice he’d almost tripped over himself in his hurry and under the blinking light of the moon it didn’t help his cause for the visibility was like a magic candle; always relighting after being blown out. Better eyes be damned! If there was no light even he couldn’t see shit.

When it became clear that the moon wasn’t going to be flashing itself anymore Peter slowed to a walk and took out his sword. The beat of his heart thumping out of his chest roared in his ears as he got nearer to the darker shadows that indicated the base of the hill. Even though he couldn’t see well in the darkness there was still his hearing that would’ve helped him if it wasn’t already being impeded by the white noise of the undead in the city.

‘This city’s too lively for all the dead that roam it.’

As the sweat uncomfortably settled on his back and lubricated his pits, Peter began to question himself. How far was he going to go? How much was he willing to risk if it meant finding her just like one of the cropses?

‘Fuck! Shouldn’t think like that. Just focus on getting down there at least…Did I just hear a deadface?’

True enough when he get closer the senseless noises of undead got louder, before they seemed to get abruptly cut off. Squinting hard into the darkness he could make out a few forms around the base, and one such form carried a glinting weapon in hand. Hoping for the best Peter got up from his crouched position and yelled from above.

That got their attention as two of the undead moved away from the sword-wielder and made their way towards him. Peter took a run-up before jumping over them, kicking one of them in the head as he descended. A pleasant ‘crunch’ and ‘squelch’ of the skull caving in on the brain greeted him as he turned to stomp the fallen figure. With a thrust of his sword Peter impaled the other figure through the head and using all his might cut half of it off.

“Ahhh!” A feminine scream drew his attention back. Without hesitating he thrust his sword towards the larger figure draped over the smaller one and using his momentum pushed the creature off her. While she fell Peter wrestled with the larger corpse for control over his sword, but the undead had it in a vice grip. It wasn’t much of a stalemate that they found themselves in as another figure came from the side, forcing Peter to let go of the sword and switched to his secondary sword. He dodged back but soon realized that doing so left Red within the undead’s grasp. Yelling to keep their attention on him Peter tackled the smaller figure onto the ground. Straddling it’s flailing arms he raised his sword and aimed for the face.

“Fuck!” he breathed out as the air in his lungs was knocked out as the larger figure lashed out at him, tearing his arrows and bow away while knocking him on top of the smaller figure who wildly bit into the open air. It caught his ear between its teeth and tore off the top part, along with some hair.

“AAHMMM!” Peter gave a muffled scream as he clenched his teeth and rolled away. But the larger being had something else in mind as he grabbed onto his torso and raised him overhead for a throw. Taking the opportunity Peter twisted around and brought down his clenched sword onto his head.

“AHHH FUCK IT.”

He missed! The sword was too long and instead of piercing the head lodged itself in the middle of the clavicles as if the corpse was swallowing it. Without missing a beat the corpse threw Peter off into the distance. He bounced up; hearing something break within him, luckily nothing was broken the next time he bounced, before he rolled to a stop. His hand instinctively grabbed onto something as he arose with shaking limbs. Eventually he made it to his feet and inspected the piece of wood in his hands. He was about to discard it when something glinting off the top of the board. A small spike protruded from the top of the board with a mead glass painted on it.

‘Martha?’

Peter didn’t have much time to think as he suddenly caught the smaller figure approaching him. From over him he could see the larger one moving towards the fallen woman. That was when something inside Peter settled in place and a feeling of euphoria overcame him. He smiled to himself as he took in a deep breath to settle his heavy heart before engaging with the incoming undead. He grabbed hold of the undead’s shoulders and pushed it back before jumping up and drop kicking his opponent. That move pushed it further back but wasn’t enough to befall it.

Peter rushed forward and brought the spiked sign overhead before driving it into the figure’s head. But he didn’t stop there, Peter repeatedly stabbed from all points, overpowering the struggling creature until it bore a hole from the many small holes. Then pulling back his fist as much as he could Peter let loose the strongest punch he could muster. It drove through the cracked skull and broke the back of the head.

*Crick*Crack*

The sounds of his fingers breaking filled his ears as he flinched and cradled his bruised hand. But he didn’t have time to care for himself when he knew something could be happening to her. So Peter shakily stood up, letting loose a loud roar, snapping the other’s attention to him. The muscle corpse was grabbing onto her neck and was about to bite down on her face if it hadn’t seen Peter. Perhaps it saw him as a threat for when he came to view the corpse changed its focus.

‘Must’ve been a fighter before he died’ Peter thought as he circled the large undead, keeping a firm hold on the tavern sign. The large man had taken out Peter’s sword and it lay glinting, with what little light was present, off to the side. Suddenly Peter felt his hand go numb and his body slowly began to sag, overcoming with exhaustion.

‘NO! NOT NOW!’ Peter yelled in his mind as the high of battle wore off. Peter began sidestepping towards the sword but the corpse blocked his path and began closing in instead. Peter took a few steps back and considered running before his eyes set on the fallen figure of the woman he’d come looking for.

‘There, focus on that. Focus on that ass you’ll get after this, focus on the pain your feeling right now, focus on keeping her safe.’

“FUUUUCK!!!” Peter yelled as he ran forwards. The creature expected him to tackle, so it was understandably confused when Peter slid underneath. Peter grabbed onto the sword and turned around to slice the beast. Peter kept hacking and slashing at the corpse, hoping that it could get past it’s guarding hands and slice off the neck. Unfortunately the sword got stuck again and this time was lodged in a bone.

The large corpse took this opportunity and grabbed him by his chainmail lifting him up. Peter swung his leg out and kicked his sword up; it sailed into the air and shone under the increasing moonlight. It seemed that the moon would shine upon them after all. Peter said his prayers and hoped it wouldn’t pierce him when it fell and set to defeating the pain in the ass monster. Peter took his cracked knuckles and swung with all his might into the opening carved out by his sword into the beast’s chest. Using his thumb Peter grabbed the bone of the thorax and pulled back, increasing his leverage by placing both his feet on the corpse’s shoulders. Soon he started to hear the cracking sounds from the chest over the hissing sounds from the corpse as it struggled to get Peter off. It had even let go of him but Peter had a god’s grip on the bone.

*CRACK*

“FAAH-” Peter breathed out as he fell back with half the bone he’d hoped to tear off. But it seemed to be enough as he saw the undead fumbling around with hunched over head. It’s chest no longer holding its neck up. But the battle wasn’t over yet as Peter saw his sword land atop him piercing him through his hand.

“OUCH!” Peter yelled as he cursed whatever deity he’d prayed to. Peter shakily raised his injured hand and pulled the sword out of the ground before taking it out with his other hand. Suddenly he jumped to the side on instinct as the corpse bounded past him. Now that the moon light was properly shining on them he could see who his opponent was. It was Zachery.

The giant of the man from those musclemen group stood before him in all his hunched over, flesh bitten, naked glory. If Zachery was still alive Peter wouldn’t have had a chance to take him on, alongside 3 other people. But being dead mean you were slower and less skilled as only part of your brain, the part that wanted to eat and the part meant to make you walk remained after a necromancer’s spell.

‘Those two rubbed off quite a lot on me,’ Peter thought. Peter took hold of the sign that had fallen and breathed deeply before slowly moving towards the large man. It was Zachery’s turn to run at him, but being slow meant all be could do was thump hard as he walked forwards. Peter’s pierced hand had the sword balanced between his thumb and pinky while the other gripped the sign harder. When they came in striking distance Zachery swung diagonally in hopes to strike him down. But Peter easily dodged the attack and instead used his sword to thrust into the neck of his opponent. Since his face was practically kissing his own chest the back of his neck was completely exposed so it made an easy for Peter to cut through. After the initial piercing however, Peter pulled back his hand and used the palm of his hand to push the sword further in while his other hand repeatedly stabbed with the spiked sign on the uncut part of the neck.

But Zachery wasn’t done yet. He lashed out again and this time managed to throw Peter back breaking another one of his ribs. As Peter spat out the blood Zachery began charging at him in his own leisurely pace which Peter easily dodged and began stabbing, once more, at the nape of his neck, until he swung again and Peter dodged. This occurred a few more times before Peter was able to create enough space between the neck’s muscles and the shoulder’s that when he hammered down with all his might the head came off. Peter had decapitated Zachery with an inn sign.

Peter stared at the pale and slightly blue body, riddled with scars from the many battles he’d taken part in and the time he helped save Fliss’s life or the time they’d fought over who could drink the most at Martha’s Tavern or…the many bite marks that finally ended him. Peter couldn’t help but feel no pity for the man. For all his flaws he was a close friend of Fliss’s and since Peter was closest to Fliss than all 4 of them in ‘Nature’s call’, Zachery turning into a mad undead pissed him off, greatly.

Throwing the sign over his dead body, Peter turned towards ‘Red' lying on the ground and left. But not before saying; “Martha said no refunds.”

Her head was hung low as the growing twirls of her red thread created a shadow across her face, she was bruised, cut and was missing a few articles of armor, even with such appearance he could recognize her just by her aroma. Peter tried bending over but that just sent him crashing next to her. As he lay beside her stomach, he placed a hand over her chest to feel it rise against it. Brair was alive.

Sighing in content Peter reached into his pocket and took out a few herbs, all crushed and mushy from his recent battle but still retaining the red and purple color. Peter gingerly moved his good arm to his mouth and began chewing the herb, forcing the bitter juices down his gullet.

He lay beside her for the next few minutes, feeling his bruises and cuts burning as the herb took effect. He needed a whole bale of such herb to heal completely, but just getting the feeling in his limbs again was enough for now. He would’ve liked to stay and heal some more but if the surrounding sounds were anything to go by, the other undead were closing in and he didn’t have to strength to keep them at bay.

Clenching his teeth Peter gingerly stood up, took Brair onto his back and began trekking uphill. He closed his eyes and just focused on his breathing, until the feeling of Brair moving above him brought it back.

‘Oh, please god. Don’t let her turn.’ Peter had seen the bite marks and cuts she’d received, none of them seemed life threatening so he chose to ignore it until now, when she was awakening and he didn’t know what he’d do if she did turn.

All his fears came to rest as she uttered her first words.

“Thank you.”

The simple word of gratitude filled him with a sense of fulfillment. He was bruised, beaten and had almost died, so what! If the woman he was fighting for, he was chasing acknowledged his good actions with the reward of gratitude…she may be worth pursueing.

‘Wait what? Stop thinking like that man; you’ll turn into Luvrit…Although, after all this…weeelllll, if she’s okay with me then, hehe, the fun we’ll have. Hahahahaha.’

“Peter? Your giggling.” Brair whispered.

“Yeah,” Peter whispered back, that was all he was capable of right now, anyway. “I knew you wouldn’t die on me Red. I just knew it….hmmm, hey…..uh………”

“Just say it,” Brair raised her hand to clasp it against his chest. “I’ll probably forget about it in a moment.”

“I’ve missed that ass.” Peter wiggled his fingers on his good hand against her butt.

“…You want this again,” Brair said, she tried pushing him away but didn’t have enough strength. “I saw what you did…just days after what we did. Let go of me, I’ll-”

“Brair!” Peter said as he took a knee from her struggling. “You’ll make us both fall. I came back to save you because I didn’t want you to die. I believed you didn’t die when everyone else thought otherwise.*Cough**Cough*”

“And now you want to lay with me again? Is that it,” Brair said pushing away to stand up. But her legs were still weak so she immediately fell onto her butt. “I give you what you want and you’ll just go find another women anyways, so why do this again. I know you, and you know you too. You’re just lying to yourself.”

“Hey,” Peter unwittingly tackled her into the ground. As he lay atop her weak self, propped up only on the base of his palms Peter could see the messy red hair create an outline to her scarred and cute face. Oh, how he wanted to kiss her. “I know I’m not lying when I say that I wanted you. You’re the only person for whom I disobeyed Lidia to find.”

Brair frowned at his mention of Lidia. “Then you’ll just go back to her once you’re done over here won’t you?”

“Stop that!” Peter shouted. “I know you’re angry about what I did but that was two years ago. I’ve changed since then; I want you and only you. Trust me.”

“…” Brair’s frown lessened and her face came to a small pout, the scar on her right cheek stretched to a smile. “Prove it.”

“Okay” Peter’s shaky arms suddenly buckled and he had to prop up his elbows to prevent head butting the tanned woman. But now they were dangerously close; a simple breath away from kissing to be precise, but he didn’t want to ruin his chances so he waited. “How?”

“Don’t do it,” Brair said, eyeing his lips before returning to his eyes. “Don’t fuck with anyone, for a whole year.”

“…A whole year,” Peter repeated. “….and after that.”

“Then we’ll see what happens.”

“Ah,….aaa…oo-okay. A whole year, and-and then we’ll down with it. Okay.” Peter repeated to himself as if the commitment was still settling in his mind. Slowly he rolled off to hi side and waited until he regained enough strength to stand up with Brair on his back. Neither of them spoke after that.

They quietly came up to gates which opened when the elder noticed he’d returned with Brair. As far as Peter could see there was a rising hope within the civilians of the city. They’d been reunited with more people they knew of, some of them even children. The injured ones where laid off to the other side of the courtyard, near the steps leading up to the manor. The rest of his team was already there; too busy trying to take care of the injured to notice him approach.

Lidia was atop the steps alongside the creepy bearded butler giving out orders for blankets, and pails of water. She did however notice them approach and a look of rage crossed her face before her really took in how he looked.

‘I must look like shit, at least I got my excuse over me.’

Lidia merely nodded in his direction and paid him no further mind. While he approached the injured group Brair pointed to an old woman whom Fliss was treating. Peter slowly laid her down next to the old woman and waited for clear sign of discomfort before he could act. During such a time the rest of his group had converged to his position and were peering over to see past his shadow covering her. They all asked the same repeating questions about his wounds and how he found her. In another time he would’ve welcomed the attention, but now he just wanted to rest. So he laid himself beside her and closed his eyes, placing his injured hand over him.

“Treat me,” Peter said. After some time he removed it to see that Natravi and Fliss had already gone to fetch a new pail of water and some cloth, but Luvrit had stayed behind. He had that annoying smile on his face as if he knew exactly what happened. It seemed to irk Brair too fro she asked;

“What you staring at?”

Luvrit didn’t say anything, instead he grabbed both their shoulders, sending jolts of pain down their back.

“Just glad you two’re okay.” He said before leaving to help someone else. But Peter reached over and brought him down. When Luvrit’s ear was only a breath away from his mouth he whispered in his quietest voice.

“Whatever kept the undead from coming up here stopped a moment and chased us back here, whoever it is they know I went out to check on Brair. Someone in here…is the necromancer.”

If Luvrit heard him at all he gave no indication of it. He said something like ‘take care’ before going away to help someone else.

‘Well, now he knows. No need to worry about anything now, he’ll figure something out.’ Living true to his code, Peter did the least amount of work required to get the best results, and only rarely did he go out of his way for something. Apparently Brair was one of them.

While Peter was treated sitting up, Natravi treated Brair as she lay. Though it seemed she was more annoyed and angery at being treated by Natravi than his own proposition. Peter could see all the wounds as she was undressed down to her wrappings.

There were claw marks all over her arms, a few on her chest and stomach showed fresh wounds covered with a layer of dust and dirt. Luckily her legs were left relatively untouched so she wasn’t going to be disabled upon recovery. He traced his hands against hers, removing some dirt stains to unearth a similar shade of skin under the available light. Thankfully she didn’t react aggressively to this act and instead made small talk with the elder woman beside her.

*Cough**Cough* the old woman contracted in a fetal position as she coughed. Once she had coughed enough she stretched out, making popping sounds all across her joints. She raised her hands completely ignoring Brair beside her and sighed.

“Thank god yer okay lassie.”

“Here, let me remove this.” Fliss said as he took off Peter’s armor. After he was finished wrapping the medicinal cloth around him Fliss allowed him to wear his tunic, but stopped him from wearing his armor. With nothing more to do he returned his attention to the woman currently being interrogated by Natravi.

“What happened?” she asked with an edge. Peter wanted to chuckle at the sight; Natravi looked very angry but her twiddling fingers told another story.

“Hah, now tha’ a tale,” the woman sighed. “We were walkin’ through Callium Street when those buggers ambushed us an’ we had ta split. Brair here took us the rest of the way till the trail up hill, when we go’ attacked again. *Sigh* we lost some people there but we kept movin’ till ye’ found us.”

Peter looked back at Brair and was relieved to find her sleeping off her wounds as she wore a similar tunic as him.

“-kids took a left, we took a right and that knight went with ‘em.” The elder said to Natraviv when he turned his attention back to them.

“I see,” Natravi said, deep in thought.

“Hey, I talked.” The woman pointed her finger at her, catching her attention. “Now heal ma’ wounds.”

Apparently Natravi had stopped halfway through the story, but Peter didn’t pay much attention to her. Despite bringing Brair to the manor he still couldn’t let go off the unease that was slowly building up inside him. Heaving a heavy sigh he stood up and searched for the company of a certain guard. When Peter came over, the guard gave a slight frown before inquiring about his health.

“I’m fine” Peter waved it off.“Say, you a faithful follower of Saint Mina?”

“More faithful than the people in this city, yeah. Why?” The guard replied after some consideration.

“She’s the patron saint of healers’ right? Saint Matha.”

“That’s one way of putting it. Saint Mina provides help against darkness, disease and sickness.”

“I see. You memorized her book?”

“Fer gods sake man, if you’re gonna’ ask so many questions then at least sit down,” The old man pleaded. “You look like you’re about to fall over, I ain’t answering a dead man.”

“I told you I’m fine,” Peter denied but the guard didn’t let it go. The two soon became caught up each other’s stubbornness, neither giving up to the other. Eventually, due to exhaustion or other reasons it was Peter who caved in and settled to compromise with using the wall as support instead of sitting completely. He didn’t need to feel useless even when he knew otherwise.

“Now, ask away and yes I do have it memorized.” The guard said, satisfied.

“What does she say about treating injuries gained from undead? Is there a mantra? A prayer in the old tongue?”

The old man looked at Peter skeptically and then at where he came from before sighing. “Kid, this ain’t something you just say a few words for and wish for the best.”

“I know, I gotta actually believe in the higher power-”

“Horseshit! Who told you that?” The elder spat. “You always gotta work towards saving the injuries of a fallen comrade; this aint got nothin’ to do with faith. There work waiting to be done, yes, but it ain’t god’s work, it’s yours.”

“I already did what I could,” Peter pushed off from the wall. “We treated her wounds, fed her and cleaned her up, but I can’t help feel uneasy about this whole thing. More so than usual…so what should I do.”

“I don’t know,” the guard closed the distance between them and glared at him. “But I know that praying ain’t gonna’ help you. You’re in a position to help someone, it’s not like you can’t do anything, if you can do something then go do it and if you don’t know then go look for it. Now you go and find out what that thing is and you complete that task and once that’s finished look for some more work and finish that, again and again until you’re lost in your search and even more bruised from the work. Trivial tasks kid. Then, you come to me and we will pray for your lover together.”

“Hah, you’re crazy old man,” Peter smiled. “Thanks anyways,” he said over his shoulder as he walked away.

*Sigh* “What lies have the church been feeding this generation.” He said to his fellow postman. “Oh don’t you start questioning your faith now, you’ve never had it to begin with.”

Despite the dire situation of the city, the arrival of a dozen or so more survivors in the Dukes manor brought newfound hope and joy to surface. It was something that everyone planned to ride along on till the impending time of battle, except no one knew how fast it was approaching.