—☽—

With the bridges now gone, the lower city was their only option, but they needed to cut their way through the market.

Some of the magic users stayed behind to buy time. Only a handful escaped into the passageways as they split up again at the market. 

“So many captured, too many.” 

“How much longer?” huffed Ninda, trying to keep up with running down the stairs without a break. 

“Not much longer. Keep running.” Kiur was tired, his legs aching, but carrying Ninda’s brother on his back and with the others around, he couldn’t stop. 

He didn’t want to stop.

“I don’t want to be a failure anymore. I have to keep running.”

Reaching the underground part of the city, Kiur found it unfamiliarly deserted. 

There was no light or soul to be seen except for those Kiur escaped underground with and the invaders close behind.

“The port isn’t far anymore.” They didn’t have the time to worry about details. It was now or never, but when they entered the port area, a large group of Reiszer met them.

Having lied there in waiting.

“At least you’ve got tenacity, golden boy.” Kiur stared at the approaching Reiszer. It was the very same one who had attacked them not long ago.

“How did you survive? I thought you fell from the cliff?” asked Kiur, shocked to see Hessian alive. 

Hessian rested his axe on his shoulder and grinned wickedly at Kiur. “I didn’t plan to die today. That’s how I survived.” 

“Stop talking like you know each other. We have a mission to—” Without a warning, Hessian drove his axe into the throat of the yapping soldier. 

Gurgling and sputtering blood, he succumbed to his wound—just like all the other soldiers killed by the Reiszer slaves not long after. 

“What’s happening?” wondered someone in the false hope the slaves were switching sides and planning to help Kiur and the others. 

Sadly, they were not.

“Don’t misunderstand. We just really hate those soldiers. After all, they don’t like us either.” Hessian threw his axe after Kiur, hitting the stone pillar right next to him. “My name is Hessian, and we will take you all prisoners here today.” 

Hessian picked up the weapon of the deceased soldier, with the other slaves following suit and plundering their supposed comrades. 

Kiur couldn’t explain why they killed their own. 

Was it for the weapons? Hatred for the upper ranks? There seemed to be a discrepancy and inequality among them, but did it have to be resolved in killing? 

Why take the chance now during a raid?

“You, golden boy.” Hessian pointed with his new sword at Kiur, making him stand out from his group as the leader. “Pick up the axe. I want to settle the score. Don’t worry about magic or us attacking you prematurely. I will beat you with skill alone.”

Kiur gulped, his throat parched and hands jittering. “What if I refuse?” 

“Simple, you take an unnecessary risk of us attacking you.” Hessian twirled with the sword in his hand. “This is your only option to minimise losses as you are about to get surrounded. How much longer until the rest arrives? Macnaught isn’t the nicest of us. I promise to capture you without going overboard. That is, if you let me settle the score.” 

Kiur didn’t want to take Hessian’s proposal, but as things were, he had no chance. 

Pulling the sword out of the stone, Kiur regarded the weapon. He wasn’t a fighter, nor did he know how to swing an axe, but if he didn’t follow through with the request, he would regret it. 

At least, that was what his delusion told him by standing right next to Hessian.

It was in order to keep the rest of them safe. 

“I’ll allow you the first swing. Ready when you are.” Hessian gestured at Kiur but knew better than to take the bait. 

All the time, Kiur wished to be more impulsive, but in this case, it would have been a critical mistake. 

His hands shaking, Kiur dropped to his knees and put down the axe, surrendering. 

Hessian sneered, and the slaves sighed disappointingly. “Suit yourself then, coward.” Hessian kicked Kiur against his chest to make him rattle for air. “Is that what you want? Giving up? Fine, I don’t care, die.” 

Hessian held up his sword over Kiur’s neck. His sunstone-like eyes were blank, devoid of emotions towards Kiur. 

Time slowed down when the blade came down. Kiur expected to be saved by his brother, by anyone, but no one came. 

“Ah, it’s up to me,” thought Kiur when his hand instinctively went for the axe beside him and took the whole brunt of the sword as both blades stuck in one another. 

The sudden glimmer in Hessian’s eyes sparked joy. “Now, that’s what I call tenacity, but that won’t be enough!” Hessian abandoned his sword and kicked Kiur away—their weapons fell into the nearby stream. “You tried, but it was not enough!” His fists were hard, like iron. Despite the state his body was in, he knew how to hurt others.

“That’s why you people lost today! You have lost your edge while we had to hone it!” Hessian grabbed Kiur by the hair, slamming the back of his head against the ground. An old wound opened. Kiur cried out in shock as Hessian brutalised him. 

“You give up so easily, you lose so easily. Land of Equality? You are cowards who run away and discard your own people when you become afraid of them.” 

Kiur was unaware of what was happening next, but he knew that his body was being dragged away, pulled by his hair. As the city burned, Kiur witnessed how the people he knew were being rounded up and put into cages.

“You lost today, and we won. Retribution is coming. The Reiszer will raze the world,” he whispered the last part into Kiur’s ear. “Survive and watch the world turn upside down.”