Everywhere he looked there was smoke and debris and burning wood. The chaos of the deadlands was not so terrifying. The aftermath of a beam spell, called its back-blast, could be destructive as well – almost as much as the intended beam. It was not an actual blast, and so there was no real chance of a house or garden or architectural marvel being obliterated. This was the term for the effects of such a spell on bystanders, originating from an effect of ancient weapons men had long since forgotten how to make. Yet, there were houses here in a ruined state. Roofs were collapsed. Glass was everywhere, which he kept stepping on despite the need to be silent.

  The area was devoid of corpses. Night had fallen. Shiden had already narrowly avoided patrolling enemies. He wondered what they desired. Not many enemies would try to attack an empty city. He whispered a silent prayer in thanks for the gift of foresight granted to the Watchers. They were talented. Shiden had never been allowed into their meetings – his great love, Saiya Aurien, had. She was gone now, though. Shiden's thoughts often turned to the woman and her brother. He recalled their last known positions in the city. She would have been in the northern district, close to the arena gate, or far beyond it, and Hiro – Hiro would have had the sense to wait for a backup squad, before engaging other foes.

  “I should have stayed with him, Mister Brelann – damn this night. What do you see? Shall I cast a spell over your eyes to let you have greater night vision, or one to let you see farther ahead?”

  The knight said nothing. He was checking the roofline. There were no enemies, but he held up a hand, and then signaled again for them to continue traveling northwest. It was too dark. There ahead of them was a barricade of wood storage pallets and things like wicker bins, and many heavy shipment containers – there was even a stack of chests and a pile of bedding material. Shiden had no doubt there were still some civilians within the district; or maybe conscripts.

  “Halt a moment, while I try to shift some of this rubbish. No – forget it, the noise might draw the attention of the abominations. I hate them – I hate them. The guild masters are getting lazy, the slack-jawed idiots! Go right, instead. Right, and then I think – yes, there's one of the secret passages to the high street close by. But be wary, the ramps into the lower quarter are nearby. I don't want to get stuck in a kill box if we can avoid it. I hate this city, too; can you cast many offensive spells, young one? Or do you need more rest, puppy boy?”

  Brelann glanced over when the spellcaster didn't respond. Shiden was picking at the contents of a ration pack he'd scavenged from a box in the last outpost they'd passed. There were a few knights in it, and some lighting, along with found supplies. Shiden threw the rest of the disgusting excuse for foodstuffs onto the pile ahead of them and went over to the alley in the distance. “There's no way I can possibly rest here.”

  Night had fallen; there was no other help coming. Shiden entered the alleyway after the twin brothers. Their attention was on the windows in the houses on either side of them. All were dark, none open, but then the twins searched the roofline and upper floor windows. No enemies were there, either. Shiden did not light his scepter, as he wondered if they were somehow being tracked, or walking into a trap. The other two knights with them had gone back to seek after their own people.

  It took several minutes to get to another obstacle. This sector of the city was under construction; Shiden could see – barely – a line of homes on the other side of the district; there was scaffolding and heavy equipment before them. The homes had been under repairs before the evacuation. He realized what was ahead. Sure enough, the twins stopped at the end of the alley. There was a staircase blocked off by fallen debris – the source of the damage had surely been an attack, the house ahead was missing part of its second-floor walls.

  Brelann took a rope from his pack and tied one end to a guard rail; he signaled for Shiden to climb down, and waited with his crossbow aiming in the direction they came from. His brother climbed down and then whistled; Brelann put his crossbow over one shoulder on its sling, and descended slowly into the fog in the lower part of the district. Pockets of the fog were everywhere, hovering in certain areas more thickly than in others.

  Kallan followed Shiden and Brelann along the narrow lane. They did not travel for long before a piercing howl broke the silence. The wind picked up. For a moment Shiden halted, sensing a familiar energy afar off. He looked up in quiet reflection; rain was falling. He continued on silently, but a feeling of dread came over him when they reached the top of a different stairwell. Shiden looked to the west, where the citadel was, but the gate in the wall of the district was closed to them. They went eastward. He did not understand what was making him feel so tense. It was darker, the fog was lower to the ground, and there were tracks in the mud along the narrow path.

  Brelann caught up to Shiden, for he had been searching the walls for a hidden passage, but he suddenly came toward the caster. Kallan followed, breaking into a run as well. Shiden stopped himself as he reached the edge of the road. A shot came out of the dark, a bolt, narrowly missing them. Kallan shoved the spellcaster forward, and he fell over the side of the path. They were high up, but there was thatch roofing material stored in the upper room of a tall house, and the roof was open to the elements. Shiden landed on one of the stacks. He gasped in pain as the wind was knocked out of him, and he blindly groped for the edge of the scaffolding next to him. The spellcaster made an attempt to climb back onto the roof, but he could not reach the road again; the roof was too low. The elevated paths leading down into the depths of the lower quarter had long been a hazard – there were some without railings to prevent one's fall. The council did not often deign to address the concerns of the commoners.

  Above him, the twins crouched behind heavy crates left on the road before the evacuation. Kallan tried to shoot his crossbow, but the second he broke cover, an unseen enemy shot him with its own; the bolt struck him in the neck and he fell instantly. Brelann rose and shot his; he was hit by another bolt; it caught his left pauldron. Another hit his chest plate, cracking it, but he shambled on, and threw himself over the road's edge, landing on another roof, and he rolled off almost immediately after.

  Shiden saw the silhouette of his friend fall past the unfinished roof and land on another before rolling off onto the street below, but the spellcaster was unable to remain where he was. Shiden was injured; there was a deep tear in the side of his flax shirt and blood pouring from a gash in his side he'd gotten on wood framing, perhaps. He attempted a healing spell. It was not able to fully close the cut, but the bleeding was slowing at least. Shiden tried to walk off, and nearly fell down a staircase at the end of the house's dark hallway; he had to leave – the enemy would not let him be.

  Nearly a mile away, Aurien was stalking an enemy patrol, most of his foes being runners. There were seven of them. He was farther north, on the other side of the district wall – Aurien could see the dark shape of the citadel to his left. Something odd was drawing his attention to it, and the captain stared at it until he saw something which sent a chill up his spine. Many flashes of light streaked into the clouds like bolts of lightning, but these were moving upward.

  Aurien watched with bated breath; the lights ceased after a few seconds. They were centered above the capital's largest hill. There were some ten city blocks between Aurien and the citadel, but he still had to find his friend's young son. The infirmary was far behind him, now; it had been empty when he checked it. He found nothing but corpses inside, and Aurien was thorough – he checked each one, flipping cloaks back over the dead faces; the knight – 'mercenary would be more accurate', he thought to himself – checked the first hall, but seeing only dead runners, he fled, and wound up in the northern district again.

  The enemy patrol was distracted by the lightning as well; they did not see the figure step into the roadway, the impatient man who'd been tracking them. Aurien drew his saber, and swept it overhead with one hand. A long crack formed in the flagstones of the road. Blue, blinding light streaked toward his enemies in the form of a saber's blade – a projectile, as deadly as the weapon itself, it became violet flames which spread out to become a powerful wave, which ended in a flash of light. This spell did not discriminate between foes and surrounding objects. The patrolling men – a knight, runners and soldiers employed by some unknown commander – fell dead, burning to husks. Building walls, and iron fencing were ruined by his spell work. Aurien would have been imprisoned for doing it in peace time. Even the few flowering plants and other decor, left to die in their clay pots by fleeing owners, were all affected by the captain's spell work.

  The homes burned like the dead enemies and their walls became red and smoldering wrecks. Aurien grinned, but the pain inflicted on his own body was excruciating. The man knelt – really, he collapsed, to one knee – but still, he grinned to himself, knowing how difficult the spell was. His enemies were dead. Aurien took some time to recover, drinking all the water in his canteen, trembling violently. He'd never been the stealthy type, being a rather large person even as a recruit.

  After a while, perhaps twenty minutes later, Aurien reached the next district past the wall and began searching for his young protege again; Shiden would have been coming this way, maybe. The citadel would have been the obvious place to go. Once Aurien reached another deserted guild hall, this one the abode of a smaller and less successful organization, he was certain he would not meet any allied reinforcements. This one looked as though it had been hit with a spell more damaging than his last. The enemy was burning opposing outposts as it went.

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  'No', Aurien thought, 'Runners are not normally like this – they are being controlled.'

  The captain continued on, filling his canteen at a communal spigot when he passed one in a gathering space, drinking his fill twice. Aurien stopped suddenly – he heard shouting; he was wrong about finding his own allies – but these would not be of any help. They had been routed. One by one, the city guards fell as they came running past Aurien up the street; there were spellcasters attacking them, and two beasts giving chase. What drew Aurien's eye, however, was what appeared to be a woman. She was in the middle of the road, directing the runners away from the fray into another sector of the city. Aurien took his crossbow in hand, the sling getting in his way as usual. He ducked behind a large garbage bin and aimed down the sight. Immediately, the woman turned; flames were all around her. Aurien's finger twitched on the trigger. The woman seemed to sense Aurien's whereabouts. She lowered her head covering – there was something familiar about her. Aurien squinted, and in the light of the flames he could see her shawl. It was black, with a lighter color, cerulean maybe, on its edges. Her hair was a bold red, with a single braid draped over her shoulder.

  The captain remembered her then, he knew exactly who she was – but the woman who wore that shawl had been executed; he'd been certain of it. Aurien hesitated a moment too long. The captain shot his crossbow at the woman. Her head suddenly jerked to her left, and a crouched runner leapt up, moving past her in the same direction. The captain was astonished. The runner passed by the woman, taking the bolt in the side of its own head, and fell to the road. The woman took the opportunity to escape. She glanced back at the captain, and then went into the alley on the other side of the road. There were two others there Aurien could barely see, but their clothing was unlike the local attire. They fled after her, and the captain stared silently into the darkness.

  The wall of flames dissipated; it was spell fire, Aurien realized. He investigated the area after checking his surroundings for hidden runners, but they, too, had left. Aurien found a spent flare casing in the road – it was the kind used by the Blue Company, for their brand was upon the remains of the casing's thin outer material, but it had not been shot by a crossbow. He looked up; the bridge leading across the river had been barricaded, and most of the hill, where its support pillars were, was on fire; there were more homes up there, most likely occupied by enemies before the conflagration started.

  Aurien continued on. There were many abandoned shops along a road which passed the hill and met another leading up, and there was still a fire in front of him. He waved a hand, and the remaining flames, likely a real fire, vanished. There were no others in the road, but as he rounded a corner, he heard a familiar voice, and was relieved – at first.

  “Greetings, Captain.”

  Aurien turned, and was immediately elated, but also aggrieved. It was Shiden himself, exiting a local guard building; the captain wondered if he'd discovered anything useful. “I wondered if I'd find you – and what state you'd be in. Idiotic caster, what have you done to yourself?”

  Shiden only stared as Aurien drank from his canteen and then offered it to him; he declined. The spellcaster wiped the sweat and blood off of his scratched, stubbled face with the tattered, black and cerulean fabric he wore as a scarf; he jerked his head toward the doorway as if to get Aurien to come inside.

  Shiden went in first, but Aurien found out quickly why he'd been so grim. Yet the spellcaster was usually grim, even at the best of times. There were many bodies on the floor. Most of them were the city's own soldiers.

  These were not guards, but militia members, or guildsmen, so named by the populace for their loyalty to their respective guilds. Most commoners would have called it a negative attribute, rather than utter it with respect – but they only watched the War Quest tasks in the city, and did not know how important the guilds were. Aurien was glad the proprietor of his villa had been so well-trained and equipped for the more challenging tasks. He could not imagine the young man facing what he saw, otherwise. Their forces had been butchered. There were so many severed parts, and puddles of an unusual substance. It was gleaming. Shiden had taken his scepter out and lit the sapphire on its end with a lighting spell. He muttered and the light got a bit stronger. Aurien hadn't even realized the boy had learned to use the later ranks; then again, it was only a utility spell for lighting things up.

  “Interesting. You're improving. Is that what I think―?”

  “It is, indeed. Infestation. I killed the juveniles. The human bodies were still here.”

  Shiden knelt. He picked up a tin plate, and scooped some of the substance onto it, waving the scepter over it. Nothing happened, but Shiden flung the plate across the room and stood up. His chest heaved, taking in great, rasping breaths. He went over to a dusty sideboard. There was a crossbow on top of it. Aurien could see more of the room now. It was full of ratty furniture; they were in a known inn – one of a very ill repute.

  “What's wrong, lad?”

  Shiden wasn't prone to such behavior – he wasn't crying now, but the spell caster was clearly holding back terrible news. “It reminds me of. . .nothing, forget it. I'm fine, Captain. The bow belonged to Kallan, I recovered it. Captain – the twins are gone.”

  Aurien's face went pale. They'd both known the twin knights for many years. “Are they indeed? How – never mind. Confirmed kill?”

  Shiden, surprisingly, didn't nod or affirm it any other way. “No, but I saw Brelann fall off a three-story roof after we were ambushed. He fell onto it, and past the windows. I had no time to check, but he did not come to find me. Either way―.”

  Aurien picked up a bottle of ale off the sideboard and threw it across the room. “Remember why they died, then. Grieve when this night ends, don't be distracted now. They rescued you?”

  Shiden nodded, but did not speak.

  “Then honor their sacrifice, and continue on bravely. Come on. We need to get to the citadel.”

  “You did not have to dispose of the ale in such a way, Captain. Wait a moment. . . .”

  The spellcaster's eyes went wide. He turned and brandished a dagger; he drew it seemingly from the pommel of his scepter. Shiden spoke no words, but Aurien backed away upon seeing the malice in his expression.

  “What is with your expression, caster? Put your weapon down.”

  “I have killed two men tonight since I witnessed the twins' demise. Two of our own,” responded Shiden. He lowered his weapon hand but did not sheathe the weapon in it. “They attacked me on sight.”

  “Put the weapon away, lad. Now – and follow. So, they've used the dark rites in the field?”

  Shiden looked puzzled at his superior's comment, and his lack of offense at his actions, but the spellcaster shoved the dagger, blade first, into the end of his scepter and muttered unintelligible words in a song-like tongue. The light went out after a second, then slowly returned.

  The spellcaster responded to his captain once it was restored fully. “Forgive me. I – they attacked me. I retaliated. The dark rites – what are they?”

  Aurien searched the bodies. There were no bolts in their gear. “I need ammunition. Look for it. There were rumors – rumors about men abroad, who could enthrall others with terrible rites.”

  Shiden searched, halfheartedly, and tossed something over, a pack with five crossbow bolts in it, and Aurien stored them in his leg pouch.

  “I have heard about it, Captain. Not the name, but the rumor – it was islander lore, right? Rumors of a rumor – men could use spell work, and – other things, and make a living man or woman naught but a mindless slave, devoid of all will and intelligence, condemned to do the bidding of one's master.”

  Aurien searched more of their own soldiers, deciding not to ascend the stairs yet. Clearly, they were not at an inn, but a command post disguised as one and given a made-up story to deter curious visitors. There were ration packets on a shelf behind a broken counter top in the small kitchen. He knelt and took one in hand, and then threw it to the spellcaster.

  “Yes. Despicable. Islander lore? I spoke of closer things. The rites are written down in the L'iiyrohai. Well, not really. The Shroud peoples made something like it. . . I've read from the real tome. Heard they have a duplicate of it somewhere, a later record and a corruption of the real thing, amended with words about their own foul experiments. The runners might be a part of it. Perhaps not, but we need to go. The fog is here. Reminds me of the deadlands.”

  Shiden remembered the place, too. He wandered on through the building, tearing into and eating the ration food as he went. It took some time, but eventually, they found and crushed dark red sacs in a back room of the guard station. Shiden burned the sacs and the tendrils coiled around them. There were only remains left – defiled corpses. The building burned behind them when they finally left the station, and ran through many alleys and black streets to reach the citadel. It took some convincing, but Aurien kept stopping his protege several times, to rest. Shiden was clearly upset, Aurien thought. His eyes were red – so were his clothes, with blood. He asked nothing of the spellcaster – the man was still wearing a ring on his left hand, even. But Aurien knew not where his child was, though her general direction of travel was known to him; Aurien wondered if he should tell his second-in-command yet, though.

  The thought of her potential death, or worse, was probably eating away at Shiden's mental fortitude. The custom of ring bearing – when one was married – was one of the few good things Shiden knew from old world lore. Other things, however, survived as well, even humanity's evils. They both understood how cruel people could be.

  “She's fine, lad. She went north.”

  “My mother told me already, Captain, with a note; but thank you all the same. I thought we'd go to the citadel grounds – I sent her brother toward it. Indeed, it might be the only safe location in the city for now, and the only way out is near the hill fort, anyway.”

  Aurien grunted and nodded his assent. “Then let us go, and get out of this damned city.”

  "SYSTEM FAILURE...SYSTEM FAILURE...SYSTEM FAILURE...SYS-..."

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