Atuel and his mother had planned on escaping this hell hole within the week but a series of unforeseen circumstances wrecked any plans they put together. From the beginning, they knew it would be quite difficult to find any caravan master or moving mercenary bands that would be willing to take them. 

It was quite simple really. Who would take a supposed witch with them? The downright superstitious were innumerable and quite capable. Many had sworn that calamity would find them if they took the two with their crews and soldiers. 

It also didn’t help that most of the natives would speak ill of them as soon as they heard Atuel had been searching for an out from the city. The evil bastards. 

Only after they forked out a large sum of money, not even a single silver tael, did a mercenary captain agree to escort them halfway to their destination. The rest would have to be through other caravans or the like. That by itself had taken nearly two months of groups filtering in and out of the city. 

Atuel had made sure to ask about who the captain was from caravan masters that did not recognize him. He led a group of meddling warriors that numbered almost two hundred and fifty. Most were poor and ragged, but the captain was renowned for his ‘out of the box’ tactics. Which was to say he would never go face to face with any band or group of soldiers. Always playing tricks and stunts to get wins.

Even during his losses, he would rather escape a winnable battle that would lead to more deaths than acceptable in their minds. It made routing them quite the easy feat. Just get them cornered and actually engage in a real battle, easy as that. 

The white flags would fly up faster than the enemy generals could say the word. 

But, no one would call the Wandering Geese an easy foe to beat. You could count the number of defeats they had in one hand. A record many found astonishing. 

When they had agreed on a day and time to leave, a massive storm had kicked in. The world seemed to hate the thought of them escaping this prison. It poured endlessly for days without a moment of reprieve in sight. The alleys had become soaked and so filled with water, a few of the poor kids were swimming. 

Him and his mother had to find higher ground to live on. That had been a tough task. Not only would they need to find an abandoned structure, but it had to also be one that was structurally sound. 

In the end, they found a stone house that no one wanted to even walk close to. Something about ghosts, but he and his mother knew how ‘imaginative’ the people of Anwon could be. The building was quite nice if you could overlook the caved in walls and constant dripping sound. The echo was maddening. 

After the fifth day of rain, the sun had decided to peak out behind its veil of dark, angry clouds. Atuel could not help but rush to the mercenary captain and ask about when they could leave.

He got more terrible news. 

“Can’t go anywhere for a good two weeks. The beasts are restless out there.” the captain said, not glancing at him once. He was too focused on paperwork to give him any attention. 

“But, aren't most of the other mercenaries going to leave today or tomorrow?”

The captain only raised an eyebrow. He placed his quill down and actually turned to look Atuel up and down before deciding on something. He shrugged. “They are all going south towards the war front. We ain’t going anywhere near that bloodbath. Glory and fame? More like death and disease. Not mentioning the God awful smell. Nothing worse than a thousand decaying bodies.”

Atuel gulped. War? There was a war going on? With who? Will they be forced…

“Calm down. You’re too young to get drafted. Nobody wants a tiny, hairless, and pitifully weak child in no army. Anyways, the first group to leave this city will be moving in a week, we will be moving with them for the first few stops.” With a nod, he returned to his work, dismissing Atuel.

Atuel sagged. The day to leave this place could not possibly come any faster. The prospect of actually buying food or maybe even kicking a ball with other kids, if they would have him, ached in his chest. 

He turned around to leave, but was stopped at the entrance to the captain's tent. 

“That reminds me. Do you have a weapon?” 

Atuel blinked, face as straight as possible. 

Weapon? Like a knife or stick?

The captain sighed. “You're still responsible for your own protection, kid. Go grab something before we leave, I’m sure one of the blacksmiths or weapon hawkers would have something for a few coins.” He waved him away. 

Was the man serious? Did he not remember how hard he had to beg the bastard to escort them even when they were over paying? Nearly double from what he had heard. Now he was supposed to find someone that would be willing to sell him a weapon?

Atuel walked out and ran towards the smoke in the distance. There was always a dark smog rising out of the blacksmiths district. It had been separated by a good empty patch of stone road. The falling soot and ash was found to be quite detrimental to health and city morale. Can't have the people dying unsanctioned. 

Burials were expensive and took too large a tract of land that could be used for farming and other more efficient businesses. Even a garden would do better or so he remembered his father complaining.