At some point the family decided that cowering in the corner was a much worse decision than squeezing under the table with us. Now I find myself huddle against some beastmen, one of which is a child, a child who won’t stop screaming. That’s fine, I’m screaming too.

At some point the bombardment moves on. The cannonade still rings out proudly, but over some other poor bastard’s house. Kicking out of the grip of the family, Oak and I move out to the street. We need to leave, don’t feel like dying to friendly fire.

The rains fight against the rapidly spreading fires, but nothing stops the gluttonous flames.

Oak shouts, "Why the fuck did they bring an airship here?!?!"

"You get concussed or something! It’s the beastman's main base!"

"That’s a lie kid! This is just some town in the boondocks!"

What the hell! Why are we out here then? What could be Lieutenant general’s objective? Oak begins to jog deeper into town, the wrong direction if you’re asking me. We should be leaving. I shout after Oak, it’s got to be part of the mission.

"Oak! What’s the objective then!"

"We have to meet up with a deserter!"

A deserter. Must be someone important if we're being sent all this way. Hopefully they can get out of town before the whole area becomes nothing but cinders.

Running over fallen debris and bodies, we head towards the town square. Citizen dressed in torn clothing are grabbing buckets doing their best to fight the fires consuming their homes. The stench of burning flesh and gunpowder mix to create a particularly disgusting smell that lingers in the nose.

Looking up, fat rain drops hit my face, I can see the 'airship'. I’ve seen the ports before, the sea borne ships of incomparable power. Somehow the crazy sons of bitches in the Ministry of Science covered one of those warships in metal and got it to float using, what, a balloon?

Dark, thick lines descend from the airship slapping into the ground. Figures leap over board holding onto these lines sliding towards the ground. Blinding balls of red energy are launched off deck, landing on houses and blasting them apart with raw arcane power, blood crystals. So many blood crystals.

The splashing of puddles alerts me to the movement of others.

"Kid, don’t let those soldiers see you! These guys are bad news, run or kill! Don’t hesitate!"

Small arms ring out, grenades are thrown with wild abandon. We avoid the sounds of the dying and continue across the town, unfortunately we see, to be running against the waves of retreating civilians. What’s your plan Oak?

This was going to happen if we continued our path. Three of the soldiers stand in front of us, the rain gently pinging of steel plate. They wear full steel, well-articulated, fitted like a glove. Material is underneath it. Their head, is covered by a large helmet that forms a mask over the face. I’ve never seen soldiers like these. They walk easy, gunning down beastman with practiced ease utilizing several pistols they have strapped to their chest.

They keep their rifles signed by their side, one of them even has a blunderbuss. Oak doesn’t even falter, sprinting through an alley to avoid them. Happens that we didn’t avoid them at all, instead we ran perpendicular into another group.

Oak slides, taking out the legs of one. With a roll he gets back to his feet, his back covered in wet mud. He is dashing across the street running through an opened doorway.

I pull free my pistol and fire at the far premier soldier of humanity, the minie ball is sent careening as it scrapes off his breast plate.

I hear a shout of "Pistol! They got fire arms!"

it doesn’t matter anyways, they aren’t able to get a bead on me before I follow close behind Oak entering the building.

Inside the building I take a right, following the banging of footsteps. I see a blur of Oak before he slams into a door splintering it off its hinges.

An explosion rings out and the wall behind me is shredded as almost a dozen musket ball tear through it. Damn blunderbuss!

I can hear the pounding of feet as I erupt into the street. I pause. Left, right. Oaks to the right. The crack of a bullet passing my ear. I dash to the right, slipping on the wet gravel. A hand roughly grabs my overcoat. I pull an arm through shedding the jacket.

Oak's ahead of me, at one of the other exit gates of the city. Bodies of beastman litter the floor in front of the gate causing Oak to stumble. The road glistens, small rivers of blood and rain flowing in equal measure.

A flurry of desperate shots rings out but it’s hard enough to hit a sprinting target yet alone, but in the rain and smoke it’s almost impossible. I don’t even think about how these pistols could be firing with what I can only assume to be wet primer powder.

Oak dives down, using the bodies as cover splashing a slurry of blood, and mud over his prone form. He draws his pistol. A plume of smoke and my closest chaser falls with a hole in his boot.

Still sprinting, I look back to see a group of five or six soldier lining up, rifles drawn. Shit shit shit, duck and weave. The smokes too thick to see me. Who am I kidding this road isn’t that big. Diving down I pull the nearest corpse over me.

With perfect unison the men fire a volley, adding yet more smoke to the hazy air. My meat shield takes the punch of a lead bullet, but it doesn’t over penetrate, much to my growing luck.

scrambling, my feet gouge deeply into the soaked ground, I run towards Oak, the man’s already long gone. Hopefully, those soldiers will say the same about me and stops pursuing.

I sprint through the gate, a heavy burning in my lungs. The smoke causing damage to my already fatigued lungs. My eyes have been dried to the point of tears. I pour some water over my face watching it descend black, mixed with soot.

I see Oak leaning against one of the trees, resting in the cover under its cover.

Great pillars of smoke rise from the town, the now heavy raining is the only thing preventing the town from becoming a bonfire. Glory to Wordsmith, that’s a fucking airship!

"kid" a few more deep breaths by Oak," We got lucky they didn’t surround all of the exits." Oak takes out his canteen taking a swig, "The target was supposed to meet us until tomorrow. We'll just have to show up at her keep."

"Who were those soldiers?"

Oak clicks his tongue, frustrated "Nasty people, any time there is any dissent in the home country, those are who they send in. Disgusting bastards don’t care who they kill."

I’ve never heard of such a group. I wonder where oak has.

Oak stands walking away from the town.

"Come on kid, the place isn’t too far."

Moving through the forest, no signs of life can be heard, any refugees have long since escaped deep into the forest. We don’t even bother reloading our pistols, the primer will just get soaked through.

It was unfortunate we decided to stash our rifles and bags. We will never see either of those again, hopefully we won’t need them.

Eventually our walk becomes a jog, both of us desperate to get out of the rain. Oak has his compass out. We're traveling south-east. He says we'll have travel through the day.

A shiver runs down my spine, soaked clothes leeching my heat. I want nothing more than to dry off right now.

With the rising of the sun comes new warmth. I strip out of what clothes I can and carry them by my side. The sun warms my skin even through the light drizzle that yet persists.

Not long after noon the rain stops. I wring out my clothes and re dress. Finally, I reload the pistol with the small powder horn I keep hidden at the small of my back. Don’t feel quite so vulnerable with a loaded pistol.

Before us lies a series of houses made of stone, not a single crack or crevasse but one smooth surface. The villagers stare at us as we enter town. We didn’t event try to hide the fact we're human. While seeming perturbed, almost assuredly these villagers haven’t seen a Human before, so they probably just think we are some rare breed of beastman.

occupying the middle of the village is a large stone structure. Lacking in detail, the only thing preventing it from being a rather large cube is a few chimneys and windows covered by leathers.

Oak singles this house out walking towards it. At the front lies a heavy stone door, impossibly cut with working hinges. It must be magic. To the right of the door is a small string leading to a hole in the wall. Pulling it, a bell rings pleasantly.

"Coming!"

Oak looks at me, "Don’t act out, they’re good people."

"You've met the objective before?"

"Yes"

The door swings open without noise, an impressive foot. A girl, young, probably fourteen or so stands before us. With dark brown hair and pupils little more than dark slits on a white background, she makes me feel very unsettled. She is dressed simply, a brown dress and barefoot.

A shocked expression comes to her face. She forces it back down but it’s clear to see she’s as disturbed with us as we are with here. Doesn’t help that my holster is visible along with an array of knives that run along my chest.

She bows deeply, "How can this servant help you seers today?"

I translate to Oak. If the young servants surprised by us speaking the language of the Wordsmith, it doesn’t show.

Oak keys me in on what to say.

I do my best to sound polite, "Good afternoon, is the lady of the house available?"

Still bowed the servant shakes her head, "No good seers she’s, she is finishing some errands in the village. Would you like to wait inside as I fetch her?"

"Of course."

The servant rises only to bow again, she points us to some chairs by a fire place. Thankfully, unlike most of the house, these chairs are not stone, but instead wood. The servant leaves, we alone remain in the house.

Oak makes some conversation to pass the time.

"Those soldiers that we saw, they are the ones that killed hickory." I move to speak, Oak raises a hand to silence me. "Two years ago, Hickory and I were sent to several villages in the Forest of Exodus to see the plausibility of an attack. During our time here, Hickory changed. He envied the freedom he saw. He always hated how rigid the homeland was."

Oak takes out the harmonica, flipping it in his hand.

"When we came back, Hickory tried to lead some people out of the homeland and into the Forests of Exodus. The government caught wind of it and sent those soldiers to hunt him down."

There’s a whole in his story, how he knows who was sent after hickory, unless "You were there Oak, you tried to leave with Hickory."

"Sure did, the government bastards never found out."

The soft steps of boots bring us out of our conversation.

"Hello Oak." a feminine voice ring out from the other side of the room. It’s an uneasy voice, on the edge of some tumultuous emotion.

Oak stiffens before relaxing his posture. He looks behind me to the origin of the voice. An odd expression lies on his face.

"Lucania"

I rest my elbow on the arm rest holding my head up with my palm. I get the feeling that this isn’t my conversation to be had. I’ve been awake for too long some rest while I can.

Lucania ignores me, instead moving towards Oak ever so slowly, one small step at a time. she comes into my view, but she doesn’t even notice my existence.

She's beautiful, skin kissed by the sun, a luminescent bronze. Chocolate locks of brilliance cascade from her scalp resting on her tense shoulders. Lithe and fit, proportions perfect. She is the epitome of feminine grace, even in black trousers dirty from a day of labor. Her trembling throat is laid bare by the loosely tied red blouse.

A thin aristocratic face, eyes as blue as the sea glimmering as a tear drops from her face. Pale pink lips quiver in a flurry of emotions.

If only would could ignore the emerald scales that dance along her arms. She could be, no she would be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

"I thought you were dead. I mourned you."

Her words torment my ear, pain not meant for me dripping freely from her face.

Oak sigh reducing to meet her eyes. He cradles the harmonica in both hands considering the eyes of Lucania.

"I was dead, without Hickory, without... you." Oak stands trying to take Lucania’s hands within his own. She pulls them close to her chest refusing. Oak wraps his arms around her resting his head next to hers. "I died too that day in the desert when Hickory was killed because of my inability. I died again when I decided to run away instead of finding you. I die every day I decide to live while he is waiting for me on the other side."

whispering, her voiced laced with venom, “Then why does this dead man haunt me?!?!"

Hugging tighter "Because I decided to steal the life that Hickory can no longer live. I've seen what you are doing for these people, you’re doing it too."

Lucania pushes him away, her chin raised proudly even as she sniffles.

"Of course, I am! unlike other people I remember my promises!"

Oak shakes his head a chuckle on his lips, an uproarish laughter breaks from his lips. Tear form in his eyes as he stares at Lucania. Lucania sniffles, a cute chuckle breaking free, the two lunatics laughing at nothing.

They sense of relief is palpable as they finish laughing a smile on their faces.

"You remember your promise to me then Lucania?"

"I remember all my promises."

Lucania kisses Oak gingerly, a gentle but reassurance of some unspoken promise. The woman embarrassed turns her head to the side, looking at me sitting relaxed. I wave my free in a simple greeting. Her eyes widen in shock as she finally notices my presence.

"HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE!"

I gesture to Oak, "I arrived with him."

Lucania points at Oak then me, "Just who is HE."

"The kid is my colleague, good at thinking on his feet just like Hickory he'll be a useful ally."

before anyone could say anything, else there is something I want to know before I forget, "How are you speaking the Wordsmith's language."

she looks at me for the barest moment, "Translation magic," she turns back to Oak “, so you brought a stray here."

Ouch

"Hey, don’t be so disrespectful. Kids a better postman now than when I was his age. " Thanks Oak.

The Beast woman shrugs, “Not as useful as a mage."

Taking some offense to this I reply, "I killed some mages who thought the same thing."

Lucania raises an eyebrow.

"Madam, Lunch is ready if you wish to eat with your guests." the servant announces from the other room.

I stand heading to the room. Lucania watches me as I go.

"You speak Fae."

I grunt an affirmation that I do indeed speak the Beast tongue. Fae tongue is much too grandiose a title for such a barbaric language. Sure, it can use magic, but so can goblins and dragons and you don’t hear them proclaim their language as THE Fae tongue.

I’m the first one in the dining room other than the servant girl who sets the table. The lady of the house follows shortly behind me hanging off the arm of the old Postman. They sit next to each other, I elect to give them some privacy and sit on the far side of the table.

It’s amazing that Oak made some girl fall so madly in love with him that she betrayed her country out of love. I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it myself, but one of those Beasts? Pretty questionable choice, the Wordsmith doesn’t approve of such things.

The meal was simple, vegetables and bread. Nothing to complain about. What was more exciting was that Lucania brought out of bottles of wine. I don’t know If I was just so tired or if it’s the alcohol, but it didn’t take too long before I told the servant (who I learned is Lucania’s apprentice) to lead me to my room.

It was a spartan thing, a cot in the middle of the room and a small chest to put my things in. It didn’t look comfortable. I was asleep when my head hit the pillow.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Someone left a change of clothes for me. A black pair of hemp pants and a white shirt of cotton. They itch a bit, but are warm and dry, aint nothing to complain about. I put on my holster, strap my bayonet to the side; lastly, I put on the bandolier of throwing knives. If only there was a mirror, I must look like some rogue hero from a play.

Downstairs, a group of individuals sit around a table eating a breakfast of ham and beans. Oak and Lucania is there, but there are three figures I don’t recognize. Before I can even take in the situation one of the men, stick thin wearing a suit styled in the manner of the homeland, its well-made if not for the fact that the beastman's arms hang way too low to the ground, what an odd breed. This man boy seems to be even younger than me, maybe fourteen or fifteen. He shakes my hand, Beastmen don’t shake hands.

"Hello, Forsaken, have you happened to see the play 'John and the Shepard' it was in theatres all over the Forsaken lands. I heard the critics gave it stupendous reviews, couldn’t recommended it enough. No, you haven’t. It’s no matter. Is it true that some train cars have luxury cars where they serve high quality food and liquor? Fantastic! Do you know when Johann Schmidt will be having is tour over the applications of the modern steam engine? Next month really! Oh, how rude, I’m Gaius the Omniscient. Nice to meet you Slate"

What.

A brute of a beastman with massive bull horns smirks, "Don’t mind the boy, he's just a little enamored is all. Obsessed with your folk’s culture. Also, he can read minds so if he’s asking questions that what he’s doing. I'm Emil the Large, nice of you join our little conspiracy."

I nod, Emil the Large, what an appropriate name. The final figure, a handsome looking Elf of shaggy brown hair and a patchy beard, He nods between puffs of smoke.

He opens his mouth for the barest of moment, "Alexandrian"

They all look at me as I take a seat at the table. I load up a plate and begin to eat. They continue to stare at me.

Oak clear his throat, I look at him.

"Kid, these folks aren’t deserters."

I reply between spoon full of beans.

"Do you know where they're at?"

"Yes, they are in this room"

"You just said they weren't."

Oak scratches his head but moves closer putting a hand on my shoulder.

"It’s us kid there was no mission."

"Oh, he's pissed." Correctly remarks Gaius the Omniscient.

Red hot fury flows through my veins. I grab the kitchen knife in my right only to find my hand being constricted by a ring of wood that has risen from the table. The elf holds up his hand willing the constraints tighter and tighter.

"Hold on kid! Listen to us!" I lash out with my left hand, but its simple for him to grab my wrist and pin it behind my back. I can feel the tending straining in his grip.

"A liar nothing but a fraud!"

"It was for the best kid trust me!"

I stop fighting, letting myself go limp in his grip. He lets go of me and takes a few steps back.

"Let me just tell you wha-"

The bayonet descends, its edge as sharp as a razor. The first swing cleaves halfway through my wrist.

"By the Axeman he's gone insane!'

The second swing breaks through the bone freeing me. I slide my arm out and rush Oak. That bastard will die. They always lie. They lied about Tomo, they lied about being a postman, they lied about these damn beastman.

I struggle over Oak knife dripping blood on his traitor face. With two hands it’s easy for him to keep me at bay. I hammer into him with the stump of my arm spraying him with blood forcing him to close his eye. I feel no pain for the Wordsmith is with me! None of you other fucks know true devotion.

I feel something hard wrap around my waist. It squeezes and my vision tunnels, chucks of something is thrown up. I can’t breathe, it burns. It pulls me off Oak throwing me through the doorway. A stone hand, it was a stone hand coming through a wall. That’s what killed me.

"Lucania, you fucking idiot!"

I can see Oak running towards me, I pull free my pistol and squeeze the trigger.

*click*

The hammer bent in the fall. I can’t feel my legs. Those chunks had to have been intestines, my waist squeezed almost to separation.

"Stay with me Hickory!" in the encroaching darkness of my vision I can see Oak his head, "Lucania! Why did you have to do this!"

Some words are yelled back and forth but humming of blood in my ears defense me. On my back, I can see a of a beautiful blue sky. In my delirium I see a great metal dragon heading for me. Beams of lights fly from its wings. The ground shakes. I can hear there screams at the edge of my perception. At least my brain tricked me to believe I had some retribution in the end.

It’s cold.