Six years ago, the Kingdom of Scorcia was in flames. War and destruction raged through the countryside unchecked. Only the large cities were capable of resisting complete destruction. Ever since the Venesian Empire began to expand its power and influence aggressively, the Kingdom was engulfed in a brutal conflict that tore it apart. Countless noble houses and politicians saw the inevitable takeover of the Venesians and sold out their Kingdom for their own gain. Simultaneously, a nationalist faction formed to resist imperial dominance over their economy and politics. In addition, other groups wanted to secede from Scorcia to gain independence or fall under the influence of different empires. The split in future thinking created a crack in the political sphere of the Kingdom’s elite which ultimately burst into a civil war.

However, for the years since the civil war began, nothing much changed. Battles came and went, towns were destroyed and rebuilt. The civil war took a toll, but the nationalists, supported by the crown, dominated the battlefield and remained essentially undefeated. The Kingdom was far from capitulating and instead seemed like the nationalists would win to keep Scorcia intact and with sovereignty. So long as the King remained on the throne, Scorcia would prevail to maintain the status quo.

But at the time, Scorcia had only been fighting with itself. While the various factions fought, the Venesian Empire watched from the sidelines, waiting to take over a weakened Scorcia. The problem was that the Venesians grew impatient and sought to reverse the direction the civil war was going.

Fire and smoke polluted the air in the distance as it rose higher and higher. It was an increasingly common occurrence one couldn’t escape the sight of even when traveling in a dense forest.

Members of the Hatheway noble family rode in a convoy of coaches returning to Scorrest from a trip to a nearby allied city. The House of Hatheway were supporters of the royal family and nationalist faction and carried a negative view of the Venesian Empire. As one of the more significant noble houses in the capital, the Hatheway family had a lot of influence and power. They were one of the biggest advocates of Scorcia’s sovereignty and staunchly opposed any consideration for friendly relations with the Venesians and were therefore recognized as one of the most prominent players in the civil war.

“Father, why must we bring so many knights? Are we not safe?”

Despite being old enough to understand the Kingdom’s situation, Athela was usually shielded from the world by her father and mainly was ignorant of world affairs. Her parents never intended for their daughter to enter the world of politics, a world reserved for their son instead.

“Remember how I told you that people are fighting? The knights are to protect us from those people if they come.”

“But why would they want to harm us?” the fourteen-year-old Athela asked.

“They… do not agree with us.”

Athela was confused at what her father meant and just tilted her head.

A knock on the coach door came, and her father slightly opened the door to whisper with one of the knights outside briefly. She couldn’t hear what they were saying but could tell from their facial expressions that they were concerned.

“What happened, father?”

It was clear that something awful happened based on his facial expressions.

“A town up the road is in flames. But do not worry, my daughter, we are safe here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Athela could hear a hint of sadness in his voice and felt something was terribly wrong. Soon after contemplating, her father leaned in closer to her.

“Athela, my daughter, something bad happened outside,” he said. “The bad men whom I talked about found us. Soon there will be fighting.”

“But we will be safe, will we not? The knights will protect us.”

“No, I do not think they will. Athela, listen to me. In a few moments, I am going to need you to run away.”

“What? What do you mean?” Athela saw a tear run down her father’s eye.

“Just… please. Do as I say.”

“Leofric Hatheway!” a voice yelled from outside the coach. “By order of His Majesty the King! You are under arrest on accounts of espionage and treason!”

Leofric continued to look into her daughter’s light grey eyes with teary eyes.

“Make your way to Scorrest and return to the manor. Reunite with your mother and brother. Whatever you do, do not trust what anyone says.”

“Come out peacefully! We would rather do this easily!”

Leofric gently brushed Athela’s hair and turned to exit the coach, and closed the door behind him, leaving Athela by herself.

He was met with his knights, who had their swords drawn on each other. A betrayal that he, unfortunately, saw coming. Only a handful of knights looked to remain loyal but were outnumbered by the traitors.

“Quit the act,” Leofric hissed at the Captain. “You and I both know I would never do anything to undermine the Kingdom!”

“These are the King’s orders—”

“I’ll be damned if they are! Carl would never give out such an absurd order! He trusts me as much as I trust him. Just admit that the only one who is committing treason here is you!”

“Me?” the Captain replied with a smug face. “No, no, no. I simply follow my King’s orders. It seems he recently had a change of opinion for you.”

Athela continued to listen from within the coach and was confused at the events unfolding. None of it made sense. The Captain had served her father for years, as far as she could remember. And the King, His Majesty Carl Laess, was a friend to his father.

As she listened, the door on the other side of the coach opened. A knight poked his head in without his helmet.

“Mistress,” he whispered, “you must leave here. Take your father’s advice and head for home. Things will get ugly here. You must run for safety.”

Athela sensed the urgency and followed his words. She got out of the coach while the knight made sure no one saw her. While everyone was still focused on Leofric and the Captain on the other side of the coaches, Athela cautiously made her way to the trees and hid behind them. Not wanting to leave her father behind, she watched as the scene continued to unfold.

“I’ve known and trusted you… For years!” Leofric growled. “Whoever put you up to this won’t get away with it.”

The Captain sighed and smiled at Leofric. “They already have. Kill them all.”

As soon as the order was given, the traitorous knights all started fighting with few loyal knights that remained. The sounds of swords clashing with armor filled the area. Athela was shocked to see how many of their trusted knights turned against them. She simply could not comprehend why this was happening.

To make matters worse, she glanced at her father fighting off some of the knights. To her horror, her father was outmatched. There were too many traitorous knights, and her father was ill-equipped for combat. The rest of the battle played out quickly as the numerous traitors defeated all the loyal knights.

Leofric tried his best to defend against oncoming attacks, but he was overwhelmed and pushed back. Eventually, the sword he carried shattered, and his arm was lacerated. He fell to the ground in pain as the Captain walked over him and grabbed hold of his greying hair.

“Tell me, my lord, where is the young mistress? It would be nice if I could return with a trophy.”

“Go to hell, traitor!”

“That will not do, my lord,” the Captain mocked. “I merely want to ensure her safety. I will ask once more—where is the mistress?”

Leofric looked over to see that most of his loyal knights had been defeated and slain with only a handful remaining, wounded and near death. This battle was lost, and he was worried if his daughter had escaped yet. Assuming she was still there somewhere, he had to make sure she escaped.

“Athela, run!” he yelled as loud as he could.

“Wrong answer,” the Captain coldly said.

From the cover of trees and foliage, Athela watched the Captain raise a dagger into the air. With a tear in her eye, she realized her father was about to be killed. The blade swung down, and she closed her eyes shut before the dagger struck. Her world began to collapse as she heard the sound of death take her father away. This was the start of her never-ending nightmare.

.

.

Athela opens her eyes to find herself in an unfamiliar place. Leaning up against the wall, she feels the cool sensation of a light drizzle. It is late in the day, and there are only a few hours left of daylight. She lifts her head to examine her surroundings and finds herself in an alley. A piercing headache crashes through as she attempts to remember why she is there.

She was in the forest, wasn’t she? No, that must have been a dream. A flashback of a memory once forgotten. It was an event that has traumatized her but pales to what she encountered once she returned to Scorrest.

She holds her head in pain as she tries to ignore the memories of the distant past. She is there because she was attacked. That’s right. She was chased by members of a local gang trying to kidnap her.

On the ground, Athela sees four bodies. The corpses of her attackers that she killed. Each of them has dozens of stab and puncture wounds throughout their bodies. It is the result of her life-saving magic attack. She slowly stands up, still fatigued from the fight, and makes her way out of the alley. She doesn’t have anywhere to go, but it doesn’t matter much. She just roams past all the other people, lost in their own lives, searching for their own escape.

Her stomach growls. She hasn’t eaten in days, and her skinny figure portrays it. But alas, she has no money. The only food she can get here would scrap that are thrown out or food stolen from others.

Having been walking for a while, she feels too tired to continue around without aim. On the street side, Athela sees some wood crates in front of some old run-down building. Perhaps she can find food there and decides to check them out. She opens the lids to the crates, anticipating finding something but is disappointed to find them empty.

With her hopes in the dump, she sits down on the floor and leans on the crates. Athela loses herself in thought as she ponders on what she is going to do.

She watches the world go by in envy of people who have something to their name, if even just a pence in their pocket. She even spots children with more than her. A group of children in the distance is playing knucklebones together. No shoes, old clothes, little food, but they at least have some sort of friendship, which is more than what Athela can say.

Athela moves her hands up to rub on her bruised neck, which is still painful to touch. She remembers how she was starting to blackout at the hands of her attackers. It was the closest she has ever been to death.

As her mind drifts back to the fight, she unconsciously squeezes her hands around her neck to simulate how she was choked. She breathes more heavily without realizing what she is doing and squeezes harder.

Athela’s mind drifts from the initial confrontation to the fight to the end result. Her headache is gone, and she can think more clearly and begins realizing what truly happened—she killed four people.

In her long years of aimless travels, she has been in constant situations in which she needed to fight. But they have usually been out in the wild, far from civilization, fighting against monsters and wild animals. Goblins, wolves, and the like, those are kills that she doesn’t feel too much about.

The difference is that she has never killed people before. Ever since her world turned upside down, she’s never attempted to hurt someone for any reason. She was always taught to be kind to people and never to harm others.

A wave of memories floods her mind. Memories of her parents lecturing her over her mistakes. The time she used magic to almost injure a little boy who had harassed her. There was no end to her parents engraving in her mind just how wrong it was to put someone’s life in danger for something so meaningless. Harming to defend was an exception, but killing was something far more severe. It carries the weight that only the immoral could brush off so quickly.

But those men in the alley, that was the first time she has ever killed a person. And it pains her to realize that. Athela is shocked at this late realization, and a wave of emotions hits her, not just one but four people.

Did this mean she is a murderer? Is she now a criminal destined to rot for eternity?

She struggles to accept that she has killed but acknowledges that it happened. The idea of self-defense justifying the action eludes her, and she instead condemns herself for resorting to such an action.

Her heart is heavy, and she feels it blackening by the second. She curses the heavens and the world around her for punishing her so much. She hates herself for being so weak and hates everyone around her for being so heartless. It is an evil world that she is beginning to believe has no good. Athela’s eyes become watery as she loses every last bit of hope and belief before letting herself cry without restraint. A stream of tears pours onto the ground as she tries to restrain herself from whimpering.  Now in the pits of despair and depression, sadness consumes her, and cynicism starts to take over.

Athela huddles up into a ball behind the crates, out of view from anyone walking along the street. Her worldview changes, and she wishes she never existed. The thought of suicide slowly creeps its way into her mind to end all the suffering.

Suddenly, she notices a sound that brings her back to reality. Among the constant noise of walking, talking, and arguing that characterizes the slums, she hears a faint voice nearby. Someone is singing. A strange song she has never heard before in her life. Curious about who can be singing in such a place, Athela wipes her tears and slowly stands up to peek over the crates to find the origin. It isn’t long before she sees a man sitting on a set of barrels two buildings down the road. A strange young man who looks slightly out of place wearing clothes more expensive than what people in Egwater can afford. It doesn’t look like anyone nearby notices or cares that he is singing.

His singing voice is also out of place. It isn’t good per se, but it isn’t bad either. It is just barely decent. Slightly rough and choppy. It is clear to Athela that he isn’t experienced in singing and is just winging it but still finds it hypnotic.

“May your love. Never end. And if you. Need a friend. There’s a seat. Here. Alongside me…”

Despite the singing being a bit off, the lyrics are striking to Athela. It almost feels as if he is speaking directly to her. Could he know the pain she is suffering?

She just about wants to take the lyrics literally, out of desperation, and sit next to him but doesn’t. Ultimately, he is a stranger she never met. For all she knows, he would try to exploit her just like everyone else has done so far. The world around her seems to be fond of giving her false hope.

Another man, equally looking out of place holding a dirty linen sack, approaches him from across the street. Athela continues to watch and listens from a distance.

“Kai, you’re making my ears bleed, dude. Your singing’s trash. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Sounded better in my head.”

“What song is it?”

“Roads Untraveled. Linkin Park.”

“Deadass? I fuckin love their music.”

“Me too. I used to listen to them all the time in high school and University. Kinda wish I had an iPod or something with me. Anyways, I’ve been waiting for a hot minute, Cayde. I’m tired, sleepy, and hungry. So what’s for dinner?”

“Take your pick, bro.” Cayde gives Ken the sack.

When Ken peeks inside the bag, he sees that it’s full of different fruits that haven’t been washed.

“Mmm, delicacies of the slums. Dirty fruits in a dirty sack that will probably give me cholera. Where’d you get it?”

“Some guy in an alley somewhere.”

“Even better.”

“They aren’t cheap either. Fourpence each dude. That’s like, thirty bucks. Guy basically jacked me. Now I get why people are always hungry here.”

Ken picks up an apple and bites into it. Apples in Adon, like most other foods, are smaller with less flavor and nutrition. They just aren’t grown, bred, or modified anywhere near the extent that modern Earth did.

Ken and Cayde eat a few fruits in the sack rather quickly despite the very different taste.

For the past few days, Ringleader Team was highly fatigued from constantly defending the Casiem every night while keeping up with their work. They rarely have time to sit down and eat a full meal either. Their sleep is atrocious, and they barely have time to relax. Their eyes are saggy, and they are hungry.

Today they decided to visit Egwater and find out why people keep being sent towards them despite catastrophically failing every attempt.

“I’m not sure I want to eat another one. Kinda gross, and you bought too many. Fat waste of money.”

“Least we’re not hungry.”

“We should get going. We gotta find this Rakee guy next.”

Holding the sack of fruits, Ken jumps off from the barrels and walks with Cayde along the side of the road. They are walking in Athela’s direction and seem not to have noticed her spying on them.

Athela stands still, staring as they approach. She found their conversation interesting and strange. They speak in a different accent, and she doesn’t understand some words they said. On top of it all, they bought too much food for a high price without thinking twice? Clearly, they aren’t peasants, so why are they in Egwater? Regardless, she envies their apparent wealth.

If only I were in their shoes.

Eventually, as they get closer, Ken notices her staring at them intently and gets slightly uncomfortable. It isn’t strange for people to wonder who they are or why they are there, but this girl is overdoing it. Ken just gives a slight glance at her as he walks right past her while Athela takes a step back as a precaution. Though it was a quick glance, Ken immediately notices her condition. Dirty, weak, bruises, thin, and teary eyes. She must have been starving.

Athela sees them ignore her as expected, but unexpectedly, one of them stops. The man who was singing earlier turns around to look at her. His friend, who walked a bit further in front, also stops to see why his friend stopped walking alongside him.

In Ken’s mind, he has seen a lot of awful things in Egwater. The most depressing thing is the children who live there. But something about the girl he walked past told him that she has been living in hell.

He walks back towards her slowly as he observes her. Her long and messy platinum white hair barely lets him see the bruises on her neck and her teary light grey eyes. Clearly, she must have gone through something traumatizing recently. But despite her messy and depressing appearance, Ken can still appreciate her natural beauty that hides underneath.

Ken unconsciously lifts his hand to move her hair aside to look at her better, but Athela recoils and steps away in fear. Ken stops when he sees the fear in her eyes. It is a look that he has seen plenty of times before. In a time when he was deployed to regions where atrocities are widespread where no one is spared.

“You’ve suffered a lot, haven’t you?” Ken softly says.

Athela remains silent and observes Ken, thinking that he would try to kidnap her like the men from before. But his question sounded sincere like he is trying to comfort her. This isn’t at all what she is expecting.

Holding the sack in his other hand, Ken presents it to her to which Athela is confused by. Was he giving her the food they bought? Why?

“I think you need this more than us.”

Athela can’t understand why he gives her the food, especially considering they complained about how expensive it is. No one provides free food in these parts; this has to be a ruse.

“Take it, whatever you’re going through, at least don’t be hungry,” Ken says, noticing her suspicion.

Athela gives way and slowly reaches to grab hold of the sack with hesitance. She still doesn’t understand why he is being so kind but goes along with it.

“I know you probably don’t have any trust in anyone, including me. But if you need work—a job to sustain yourself with—I can help you. Would you like that?”

Athela continues to stare. Could this be a trick of some kind? She isn’t sure. She shakes her head as she is still nervous and skeptical. She doesn’t want to rely on someone else for her survival. Ken is still a bit sketchy in her mind.

Truthfully she doesn’t know what she needs or wants. A job hasn’t crossed her mind as a viable option because no one would hire a dirty bum from Egwater for any legitimate work. Survival is the only thing she ever has in her mind.

“Well, that’s all right. Anyways, I have to go. Take care of yourself.”

Athela watches him as he leaves to return to his friend, who is waiting for him. She swears she even saw him smile when he turned to leave. She looks down at the sack of fruits she is now holding and feels like crying again. This is the first time she has experienced any sort of kindness in years.

She quickly goes to sit down near the barrels Ken sat upon and opens the sack. She grabs onto an apple and starts to eat it. She finally breaks down into tears again after being able to quell her hunger. Eternally grateful, she thanks the heavens that she survives another day. Perhaps there is still good in the world after all.

.

.

“So what was that, Kai?”

Ken and Cayde continue to walk through the district, trying to find anybody connected with the trespassing attempts. So far, they have been unlucky as no one gave them any information. Everyone seems to want to flee when the topic of the local gangs comes up. They have previously gone to ‘The Siren’, a tavern run by the Bourkee Gang, but were nearly immediately kicked out. Maybe it’s because they don’t look like street rats that they weren’t welcomed. 

“The girl back there?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess I just felt bad.”

“Nah, man. You saw something. You don’t help a random beggar in a district full of them, right? There’s a reason.”

“I mean, you saw it, didn't you? She is pretty fucked up. Worse than a lot of people here,” Ken replies.

“A good deed for the most unfortunate, I guess. She was pretty, though, wasn’t she? You know, ignoring all the dirt, grime, and bruises. Maybe that’s why you gave her my food?”

“Mmm. Maybe it was her eyes,” Ken says.

“Her eyes? She hypnotized you then? Not gonna lie; even from a distance, her eyes were kinda crazy. The dark limbal rings around the light grey iris’ made her look like she was staring directly at your soul.”

“What? No, not that. I meant her eyes expressed fear. She recoiled when I approached her, man. She was scared shitless. Probably has PTSD or something. It was the same sort of look some people had when I was deployed in Mexico.”

“Mexico? Weren’t you in the Middle East?”

“Sometimes I was deployed there, yeah. But I was in ODA 7422 with the 7th Special Forces Group, so the Western Hemisphere was our focus, and the biggest conflict was in Mexico. The war on drugs and all. It was supposed to just help train their own special operations units and Marines to aid the drug war, but eventually, I was roped in to direct action with the cartels. And let me tell ya, the amount of carnage and brutality they caused was insane. So I got to see plenty of people in despair. And that girl back there was full of it.”

As they talk, they walk into a street that is a little more crowded than others. The deeper they go, the more dangerous it looks. More and more people look like they would kill a man for looking at them funny.

“Maybe ask one of these guys?” Ken says.

“And have them rip my tits off? Everyone here probably thinks they’re hot shit and will start a fight over pretzel crumbs. Why don’t you ask?”

“Haven’t I done enough lifting? I’m basically carrying the team.”

“Fine… Watch this then.”

Cayde walks up to a nearby muscular man who is leaning on a wall menacingly.

“Hey there, big fella. What’s a sack of protein like you doing around here?”

“Waiting for the next idiot to kill,” the man replies.

“Uh-huh, sounds like a blast. Listen, I got a date with someone and was hoping you can give me directions. You got a sec?”

“You keep talking to me, and I’ll bury yer head in the dirt.”

“Too kinky for my taste, but I need help finding some guy called Graham Rakee. Ever heard of him?”

The man lifts his eyebrow when hearing his name. Not too many people go about looking for him. Being the head of the Rakee Gang, Graham Rakee is respected and feared, even among other gangs.

“You have a death wish? No one seeks out Graham Rakee.”

“Yeah, but I do. He’s expecting me. Wouldn’t want to keep him waiting. You know how it is.”

“Ha. Yeah, maybe I do.” The man points down the road. “Walk down this road and take a left into the next street. You’ll see a building with a black knife painted on the door and maybe a guard or two. That’s where you find him.”

“Thanks, big chief. I’ll let you know how my date goes.” Cayde winks.

“Hmpf”

Cayde signals Ken to follow him down the road towards the building mentioned.

“Surprised he doesn’t kick your teeth in,” Ken says.

“What can I say? My natural charm drops panties left and right.”

“Even men?”

“They envy my masculinity. It’s a testament to my prowess. You wouldn’t understand.”

The two of them go around the corner and spot the door with a black knife painted on it. They found the place; now it’s time to find out who Graham Rakee is and what he wants.

“Let’s get this over with.”