Safehouse

The city of Esmerand smelled sweet for some reason.

At first Kyr thought something weird was going on, but then he realized he used to know the scent. 

It was cinnamon. 

As they made their way across the markets where the group snuck in, his nostrils were immediately bombarded with all sorts of flavors and spices he hadn’t had in years. Peppercorns, cloves, garlic. Even the scent of dried chili peppers hanging on one of the stalls was enough to tickle his tongue. The few times he had flavor in prison was when they put a few pieces of apple or pear in his gruel. 

And there was the noise. Foot traffic, people shouting, music from taverns, merrymaking, fighting… it was too much for his senses. It was still morning, but the city was already an absolute chaos.

Still…

He looked at the cobbled stones, the sweeping archways, the vines that grew at the side of buildings. The merchants in bright linen, mercenaries in their leather jerkin, courtesans in dresses both revealing and quiet. It was as if he walked these streets just yesterday.

And yet…

“It’s like the apocalypse didn’t loom over them,” Kyr whispered, glancing at the cracked sky. There was tension in the air, but he expected the populace to be in a state of panic.

“The severity of the countdown is mostly suppressed by the order,” Leatrix said as she walked in stride beside him. “Pull your hood tighter over your face.”

“She’s right,” Roy added, “you can’t be too careful.” He pulled Kyr’s hood down that it strained on his horn and ripped slightly. “Ah, crap.”

Kyr clicked his tongue and fixed the meager disguise himself. Roy had been fussing over him ever since he woke up, endlessly apologetic for the past six years, while simultaneously acting as if Kyr was a newborn baby. He was worse than when he followed him around the academy.

Before they entered the city, they spoke about what happened in the past. 

Roy really did go to Lumis and the spire on the day of Aven’s death. He didn’t find any noteworthy clues, but he saw the other guardians when they arrived at the town. They really were injured, not just Radon, and in desperate need of medical attention.

“I heard them say you did it to them,” Roy told him. “I thought there must've been a mistake, so I took my horse and fled. I didn't care if beasts lurked around the spire.”

Kyr knew his comrades conspired to lie against him, but at least in the fact they were attacked, they were telling the truth. 

“Look,” Leatrix said, pointing at a square building in the distance. Half of it was blackened by soot. “Arson. That’s the fifth shop in this part of the city alone. Even if more than half of the population believe what the order tells them, the rest still cling to what our legends say. Cases of violence and theft have risen dramatically, and the guards are too busy fending off beasts outside the city walls.”

On the opposite corner of the soot covered building, three people prostrated themselves on the ground in fervent prayer, raising their hands to the shattered sky.

“And then there are those who sought the sun for penance and salvation.”

“But its not guaranteed to be the end, right?” Roy commented. “It’s just a countdown. Okay, a magical countdown. But the cracks could still mean anything!”

“What’s important is the hero completes the rites,” Kyr said. “The world has symptoms and we know of a cure. The details can be argued later.”

A group of knights in silver ran past them, boots clinking. Some of the bystanders shouted something about a fight breaking out at a monastery, but Leatrix pulled Kyr to an alleyway before he could hear the rest. “Public hate for the hero killer had largely died down,” she said, “but people still spit at the mention of your name. It’s better you don’t get involved.”

“Would people even recognize my horn?” Kyr asked.

“In... a way,” Leatrix answered. “Serenti Prison had spun tall tales about your evil presence throughout the years. They said you grew horns and fangs. Wings and a tail. Sometimes they said you breathed fire or made people sick with a single touch. Not everybody took them seriously, but a few have at least confirmed your horn’s existence. They said it was a sign of who you really were beneath the facade."

"Which one?" he said sarcastically. "Dark Sorcerer? World Destroyer?"

They called him many names back in prison. It wasn't simply about killing Aven. They wanted to vilify him so badly, they said he started it all by shattering the sky and poisoning the land.

Leatrix gave her a sympathetic look. He simply shrugged in return. They haven't broken him then, they weren't breaking him now.

Roy bought a few meat skewers at Kyr’s insistence, then they hurried past the markets to climb the steep slopes leading to the residential district. The southwestern part of Esmerand was comprised of squat buildings for lower class citizens, but a few nicer villas popped up every now and then, owned by nobles and wealthy merchants.

After an hour of circling around the neighborhood, they eventually stopped at a manor with two floors and ornately shaped windows. A familiar face waited just outside of it.

Cinza, who went ahead of them, had changed from his red inquisitor’s coat to a simple white doublet. He now tied his dark hair in a ponytail and loosened his pompous expression to a… sleazier one.

“No trouble?” Cinza asked.

“No,” Leatrix replied. “Karlan?”

“Off to relay our return,” Cinza said, gesturing north with his head. “He’s angry that two of our friends are dead, but he’s angrier that our help never appeared. We’re lucky we didn’t run into beasts along the silver road.”

Help?

Karlan was the archer who fought off Serenti’s reapers. A lean man with a hawkish face and a sour attitude. Kyr took the man’s earlier disposition as hate towards him, but perhaps there was more to their circumstances than he thought.

Leatrix fiddled with the visor of her hat. “You think we’re compromised?” she asked.

“I told Karlan to lie about returning with Solian just in case,” Cinza said with a shrug. “As for our most esteemed friend… I just got word she’s already on her way. The palace is still in chaos after the king’s death, but the crown prince is managing it. That involved kicking his sister out.”

“At least she’s got her excuse,” the inquisitor replied. 

Leatrix gestured for their group to go inside the manor while Cinza waited outside. 

Kyr was quick to notice the magic barrier set around the house, but it wasn’t anything special. The first floor was furnished like a rich person’s vacation home.

“Was the princess expecting me to still have my restraints?” he asked.

“It was her job to procure a key,” Roy replied with a sniff. “If they didn’t find one, we’re supposed to break them by force. Which is doable enough with the help of sorcerers. Like yours truly.”

Good, Kyr thought, feeling mana bubble inside him. He chose to believe Leatrix and Cinza, and was still fond of Roy, but if this whole thing was somehow a trap by the princess, he wouldn’t hesitate to use everything he had against her.

They ate the skewers Roy bought, along with fruits and other bits of dried food stored in the kitchen, but after they rested, Leatrix urged him to follow her upstairs.

“Since already we’re here, I have something to show you.”

When they reached the second floor, Kyr was immediately greeted by a familiar face.

It wasn’t a person, but a painting hung on the wall. It was of a man and a woman standing, while their child sat in a chair between them.

Kyr didn’t recognize any but the man was familiar. He was very old, with receding hair, lines on his face and a thick beard. Those emerald eyes, however, Kyr recognized them very well.

“He looks like Aven.”