Kosian didn’t bother saying the words to the innkeeper, instead quickly passing through the bar and into the kitchen. The angry man ran after him, acting as if he would tell him off, but as soon as he closed the kitchen door, he gave Kosian the keys to the meeting place. Without stopping, he opened them and quickly descended the flight of stairs, not even bothering to close the door behind him. As soon as he entered the dimly lit room, he threw a pouch of laurels onto the table.

“Show him to me! Now!”

The men sitting around flinched at his sudden outburst but quickly got into possessions. Three went upstairs to lock the door shut, two started looking through the barred windows out into the street, while the others went into the other room. Guilliaurme waved for Kosian to sit down. He tried, but his hands shook so much he couldn’t control them properly.

“How… How is he?” Kosian asked. He remembered meeting a slave of God once. His bones showed through his skin, yet he stood as if a statue, completely unmoving. It was known that the slaves were broken both mind and body to only serve a purpose higher than themselves. Kosian wanted to spit. ‘The only higher purpose they serve is being unwavering slaves to fat Fathers or Grandfathers’ he thought. He hoped Pietre wasn’t… that he wasn’t…

Guilliaurme looked at him and made a calming gesture.

“He isn’t completely broken into following orders. But it’s still bad. It was obvious that he was going to be used for… well, let’s just call them unsavoury services,”

Kosian growled at that. ‘How dare they!’ he thought. ‘How dare they! Even the thought…’. He felt his fist clench so hard it almost drew blood. Fiddling with his cape, Kosian drew out the two knucklers he always kept on him. They were two grips, meant to fit all of his fingers, made of solid steel and even gilded a bit. He remembered how he got them, buying them from a smith who at first used them for hammering. Said it was some family heirloom from his grandfather’s boxing days. Strangely, these two pieces of wrought steel, which were meant to bash someone’s head in, always made Kosian feel at ease. Gripping them tightly, he let out a shaky breath, calming himself as much as he could.

“Here he is, Sir Kosian,” Suddenly said a man, opening the doors to the other room. Kosian quickly put the knuckles back into the secret cape pocket and stood. He could hear his heart beating as fast as a galloping dog, feel how cold sweat rushed through his clothes like a torrent, feel himself croak from something clogging in his throat.

A little boy, no older than ten, walked past the man. Though covered by a warm looking blanket, he made no try at tightening it around him, letting it hang on his shoulders. His hair was light brown and long to his shoulders, some held together by sweat. His body seemed well maintained, but Kosian noticed the bandages on his arms and legs, indicated open wounds.

As the boy approached him, Kosian felt his legs give out. Slumping to his knees, he looked at that little boy, who looked at him with a funny tilt of his head. His wounds were bad. His body – worse. But what scared Kosian the most were those eyes. Those blue blank, soulless eyes, which seemed to look at nothing in particular. He felt tears roll down his cheeks, as he watched those husky eyes, remembering. It made him smile with joy.

“You look just like mother, Pietre,” Kosian said, smiling at the boy. Carefully sliding next to him on his knees, he embraced him, sobbing into his shoulder, tears staining that nice blanket. He felt the boy freeze, staying still, not doing anything. Pulling himself away, Kosian smiled, holding Pietre by his arms.

“What was the name they gave you?” he asked, still sobbing. Guilliaurme had told him that most slaves were renamed when taken in.

Pietre looked at him with that blank expression of his. He opened his mouth, revealing a few teeth missing.

“Pietre, my master.” He said. By the Lord! His voice! He spoke! Kosian wanted to weep harder than he was right now. His voice sounded hollow, but he felt it. That spark of it. That spark of life! Smiling, he said:

“N…Nice to meet you, Pietre. My name is Kosian. I am your brother. Your REAL brother,”

Kosian watched those blank eyes of his, smiling. He saw as those blank eyes produced tears. Small ones, as if he was crying about getting into a fight with a friend. But they were still tears! His tears! Not being able to hold himself back, Kosian embraced Pietre with all his might, picking him up as he danced in circles, laughing.

“Tell me, Pietre, do you like dogs?” he asked, smiling.

The boy nodded. He seemed puzzled by the tears he shed. Kosian laughed again.

“Well, I’m going to a place where there will be lots of horses. Do you want to join me?”

Pietre stayed still for a moment before his cheeks blushed slightly and he nodded again. Kosian laughed at that, butting Pietre’s head with his.

“Then, I guess…”

Suddenly, the shouting of men was heard upstairs. Kosian stopped immediately, placing Pietre down on the ground and stepping in front of him. His knuckles were already in place, when a man descended the stairs, carrying a lantern.

“Get out of here, Kosian! We’ll handle this!” Guilliaurme shouted, as the other man in the room was already charging the white-cloaked inquisitor. And got stabbed straight through the nose for it. Kosian didn’t hesitate a second. Grabbing Pietre, he stormed through the doors to the other room, which was the official cellar of the inn. Looking around, Kosian noticed the doors, that led outside.

“Wait!”

He turned. Pietre clobbered to get free from his grasp. Letting him go, Kosian watched as he ran to the end of the room, where a small blanket was laid out, with a few toys scattered about. Scrambling, Pietre took a small wood carved horse, whose laminated surface shone in the candlelight. In an instant, everything froze. Kosian watched, as an inquisitor burst through the door, his hands reaching for Pietre. In an instant, he saw his fist locking with the man’s ceramic mask, shattering it as he flew to the wall, slumping against it. Quickly grabbing Pietre, making sure he had his horse, Kosian burst through the door into the street.

Launching himself into the street, Kosian quickly looked around. He had excited out into the alleyway. Looking to the main street, he saw the tip of a wide-brimmed white hat peeking from the alley's entrance. ‘No good,’ he thought. Looking up, he noticed the short house, that stood just in front of them. turning to Pietre awkwardly, he smiled and asked:

“Have you ever climbed trees?”

The boy nodded with that blank face. Kosian answered back.

“Good. That means you’ll pick this up quickly!”

Quickly getting Pietre on his back, telling him to hold on tight, Kosian took a deep breath. And started to run. As soon as the first few steps, he was already jumping from one wall to the next. ‘Kick off with the left foot. Right foot. Left! Right! Left! Right! Grab!’ he thought, grabbing onto the edge of a white-tiled roof, pushing himself up. He knew he couldn’t keep this up long. Doing this with extra weight felt almost similar to jumping with a hundred tonnes strapped to each foot. Smiling to Pietre, he said:

“See? Just like tree climbing,”

The boy tilted his head at him. Taking another deep breath, Kosian ran to the edge of the building. Looking down to the street, he saw a few inquisitors, making a perimeter around the inn. He hoped Guilliaurme and his men were okay, though that gave him little comfort. Taking another deep breath, Kosian jumped to the roof of the inn and started running south. He knew the main streets were too wide for him to jump over, so his best chance was to descend somewhere farther away and then try to sneak back to Jerod. He felt Pietre cling to his back. The boy followed orders a bit too literally. But Kosian could live with that. That tightness only reaffirmed something that he still couldn’t fully accept. He had saved him! He had saved Pietre! Now all that was left was to get to Bez and…

The gonging of bells suddenly cut off Kosians thoughts. Turning around, he felt his eyes widen. The clouds of a fire fleeted up into the sky, a bit ways from here.

“No. it can’t be!” He said out loud.

Kosian jumped onto an unsuspecting inquisitor, using his body to break his fall. He felt the man’s shoulders crack from his and Pietres weight. He also felt the shock that came to his legs. Still, that didn’t stop him from hitting the man as hard as he could in the face, breaking open his ceramic mask. Looking up, he made sure it was just them and the inquisitor in the alley. It was strange to see so many inquisitors running through the streets. Everybody always likened them to ghosts, but this was way too literal. It almost seemed like they coalesced out of thin air, each one dead set on capturing him and Pietre. Kosian tried not to think about it too much. All he knew was that they stood in the path between him and his goal. And he wasn’t about to give up. Not after getting this far.

Finally, he reached Jerod. The black-haired dog lay waiting in a small dead-end of an alley, hidden behind some old wood and blankets. He stuck out his tongue at the sight of Kosian and Pietre.

“You can let go now, Pietre,” Kosian said, crouching down. He felt that tight grip loosen, as the boy stepped onto the cold ground. Turning around, he smiled at him softly, trying to put up a strong face. “Listen and listen well. I’ll be back by the time you count to one hundred. If I’m not back by then, you jump on Jerod and ride as fast as you can to the gates. They will be just behind you when you get out onto the main street. Do you understand?”

Pietre nodded in a way that almost seemed convulsive. Kosian answered and looked at Jerod.

“Protect him,” he said to the lanky dog, before running out. Stopping at the edge, Kosian quickly looked around. The street was empty and dead silent. Every window on every house was locked and barred by wooden blinds and the only thing that illuminated the streets was the soft hue of the Band. Kosian felt nervous. Everybody felt nervous when a red Band shone in the sky. Dashing, he ran up to a corner, which overlooked Kings street. Quickly dashing past it, he ran into an alleyway. In just a few short hops and sprints, he could already see the fire smoke above his head. He felt his heartbeat. It almost felt like every part of his body was being hit by a hammer, as if he were some kind of bell. He felt disorientated, lost even. But he knew this corner better than anyone.

Standing in a small alley, which looked at Wool street, he took a deep breath. ‘Calm’ he thought. In a quick motion, he turned the corner. And almost held in his scream. He hadn’t been mistaken after all. Just in front of him, with the fire still crackling, his home burnt to the ground. He could see inquisitors standing in a perimeter around the house, vigilantly looking around. He couldn’t hear anything besides the lashing of fiery tongues against wooden beams. But it was enough to make him want to kill every last man wearing a white cloak. He almost did too, noticing how his hand was slowly being raised. He forced it down with an effort. ‘You can’t feel guilty now’ he desperately thought to himself ‘You’ve made your choice. It’s time to live with it!’. Yet, even still, a part of him felt that he had made the wrong choice. It was a terrifying thought to consider – that abandoning his brother would’ve been better. Maybe it was. But it was too late to give in now. Making. No. Forcing himself to look away, Kosian darted away. And almost stumbled into a suit of armour. Catching himself at the last moment, he took out his knuckles, glaring at the man that had suddenly appeared behind him.

The man was of middling height, slightly taller than Kosian. A brown and grey beard, braided into a single tail, decorated his seemingly strong chin and long, flowing hair sat on his head. He wore strange armour, that reminded Kosian of fish scales. Tapping the golden pommel of his sword, the man grunted:

“So, you caused all of this,”

His accent was gruff and strange, nothing like Kosian had ever heard. He nodded for an answer to the man. Dark blue eyes, like sapphires, regarded him, as he used his other hand to lightly straighten his braided beard.

“You’re a mercenary captain, aren’t you?” Kosian suddenly said. He had finally remembered where he once saw the man – standing outside the City Hall, forcing a small mob away from its steps when the infamous Ter the Innocent was put on trial. Taking a deep breath, he said: “I’ll pay you. I have gold. Laurels. I’ll pay you to see me safely to my destination,”

The man lifted a furry eyebrow. It seemed he didn’t expect that. A tense silence followed as Kosian regarded him. He didn’t have experience fighting men in armour, but he did know how to handle someone with a sword. he felt his fists clench around his knuckles. Suddenly, the man lifted his hand from the pommel. Kosian immediately jumped into his stance, but then noticed as he took off his glove and spat into his palm. Stretching out his hand to Kosian, he grunted, nudging to the arm. Without hesitation, Kosian spat into his palm and seized it. He felt his iron grip almost break his hand.

“Nice to meet you, boss,” The man said in a serious tone.

A few moments later, Kosian sat on Jerod, a few miles away from the city. He was happy bribing that old soldier had paid off. Looking to Baye, Kosian saw the still rising plume of smoke, how it slowly started to catch onto other buildings. He felt like crying. He felt like he was crying. Just without tears. Suddenly, he felt a gentle tug at his cape. Turning, he smiled to Pietre, his blank eyes gazing at him. From him, he turned to 12 odd men, all mounted, accompanied by two carts. The man in that strange fish scale armour looked at him, waiting. Taking a deep breath, Kosian waved his hand.

“Our destination is the port of Bez, around seven hundred helosai to the southeast!”

“You heard the boss, you lousy eggsaps! On the double, unless you want to find inquisitors biting at your ankles!”

The men cheered, as they quickly formed an orderly line, letting Kosian, the man and another out front. As he rode, Kosian turned to the other man in the front. He seemed a young fellow, dressed in a flowing, sleeveless coat, which he wore over a baggy tunic and long britches. In his hands, he held a long pole, which stretched over his head. A wide banner, depicting a golden sword descending onto a pine tree in a white and grey field was hung from it, flapping wildly with the wind as they rode.

Digarza watched on with interest, as the small group of riders slowly disappeared behind the King's Glade. No doubt they were heading east, hoping to get to the Phoenixian sea as fast as possible. After that, he imagined they wanted to take a ship to that damned peninsula. He scoffed at the mere thought of it. It was sickening that he and the others had to adhere to the rules of mere humans. With an effort, Digarza calmed down. If the Old One wished it, so it will be. Turning around, he looked at Maximien. The man stood pale-faced, dressed in mere night garments, furiously rubbing his hands together in any which way. He was scared. That was good. These holy men were taught from the moment they downed those stupid blue robes that you should completely obey a ‘Palehair’. Digarza ground his teeth at that too. But he did not show it. Right then, he was calmness incarnate. Walking up to the well-crafted wooden desk, he drew a line with his fingernail, making a screeching sound which he imagined made the human even more nervous:

“You have failed me, Maximien,”

The man’s eyes popped. He started opening his mouth, but Digarza stopped him immediately.

“I do not need your excuses! What I do need is for you to fix this! That boy was supposed to go to one of my sisters! And believe me when I tell you that she will not look favourably upon this!”

He did not allow Maximien to say a single word. After all, what weight did the voice of a worm carry? He was a servant. He would fix this. If he didn’t… Well, he knew what would happen then, now did he?

Smiling, Digarza opened a Window, slicing a corner off the table. Stepping through it, he heard the sound of Maximien falling to the ground. Digarza barked a laugh as he closed the Window.