It was getting late.

  The alleyways were still bustling with activity. The self-assured, now drunken laughter of the foreign soldiers echoed through every part of the city.

  Nidal watched the wild movements of the people, the chaos that had taken over.

  "Come on, girl, don't be like that!" one of the strangers called out, trying to touch a young girl.

  "Disgusting!" she screamed, slapping the man across the face.

  “Bitch!” he yelled back at her.

  The other soldiers came to his aid, dragging her to the ground. Another man joined them and punched her several times in the face. "Do you want to now?" he laughed.

  The woman lying on the cobblestones cried bitterly.

  One of the soldiers finally stepped forward and grabbed the man by the collar, dragging him back.

  "That's enough."

  "Fine..." the man huffed. "She got lucky this time."

  The group of soldiers slowly moved on, leaving the woman behind. A few teenagers rushed to her side, helping her up. They carried her to the wall of a nearby house and disappeared into the shadows.

  Suddenly, the alley fell silent.

  “T-this is…” Nidal mumbled.

  Lost in thought, he stared down at the cobblestones, watching the way the streetlamps reflected off the smooth, worn stone.

  Then a woman grabbed his arm and yanked him inside a house.

  “What are you doing out there?” the stranger snapped, her eyes wide with urgency.

  “They don’t come into the alleyways because of us women. They come looking for boys—young ones like you. They need soldiers, and they’re snatching children!” She grabbed Nidal by both shoulders and shook him.

  She wore a long, dark blue dress and a cooking apron that had clearly seen years of use. Her glasses were scratched and smudged. Her clothes were dusty, as if she’d come straight from the chaos in the marketplace.

  “O-okay…” Nidal stammered. The earlier scene was still etched into his mind.

  “E-Eria!” the woman called out.

  “Y-yes, mother?” came a soft voice from above. A young girl hurried down the creaky wooden stairs. She had long red hair, freckles, and wore a simple brown dress.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  She looked from the woman to Nidal. “W-who’s that, Mom?”

  “Never mind that. You remember the canal your father once showed you? The one I told you about—the way out of the city. You’re going to your uncle’s in the countryside. And you’re taking him with you. It’s not safe here anymore—for either of you!”

  “All right…” she replied hesitantly.

  Nidal stood still, watching it all unfold, as if in a dream. He didn’t even know how he’d ended up in this situation—nor how bad things had become in his own homeland.

  Eria rushed back upstairs. It sounded like she was searching for something. While they waited, the woman gently wiped some dirt from Nidal’s face.

  “You poor thing…” she said quietly, her voice heavy with pity.

  Eria came running down the stairs and threw herself into her mother’s arms one last time.

  “...even if they have her father,” she sobbed.

  Her mother held her tightly.

  “Listen… your uncle will take care of you. They’re far south. They won’t find you there. And maybe… just maybe… things will get better. Now go!”

  “Mom…”

  She took Nidal and Eria by the arms and led them to the rotting old back door. She opened it slowly and peeked outside, checking both directions of the alley.

  “Go. Now!”

  “But… Mother,” Eria said softly.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll see each other again, my sweet girl,” the woman said with a trembling but loving voice.

  Slowly, the two stepped outside. Eria gave her mother one final wave until she disappeared from view.

  They walked in silence side by side. Nidal glanced at her occasionally, but didn’t quite dare to speak. She noticed.

  “Something wrong? Come on, we don’t have forever.”

  “O-okay…” he said awkwardly.

  “I-I just wanted to know your name…?”

  Silence.

  "...I didn't quite understand it earlier."

  Suddenly, she shoved him behind a stack of barrels by the side of the road. She quickly covered his mouth with her hand.

  “Mmph!” was all he could manage.

  “There,” she whispered, pointing to soldiers marching down the road.

  They had a few men with them—battered and bruised. They looked as though they had been beaten into submission.

  “If you’d just come quietly, we wouldn’t have had to beat you,” one of the soldiers sneered. “So really, it’s your own fault.”

  The men just kept their heads down and followed in silence.

  “They’ve found more. That’s why I’m bringing you with me,” Eria whispered. “They’re taking men fit for service and sending them north.”

  She sounded resigned, like someone who had already seen this happen to people she cared about.

  They crouched low and waited in silence until the soldiers passed by. Once they were gone, Eria scanned the area carefully.

  “Okay, let’s go. Coast is clear.”

  Nidal nodded and followed her.

  “Eria. My name’s Eria…” she said softly, smiling at him.

  They arrived in another part of the city. It was named after the new count, and his banners hung from the lanterns glowing in the dusk. Some were torn, stained, and trampled underfoot. The white-and-brown half-timbered houses stood in neat rows, and in the center of the square rose a statue of an unknown man—according to legend, the town’s founder, who had once defended it with sword and shield.

  Nidal looked up, visibly impressed.

  Eria noticed and raised an eyebrow.

  “You’re not in the city much, are you?”

  “B-but… actually, I used to come a lot. Just not in the past few weeks,” he said, stumbling over his words.

  “Then what is it?” she asked, curious.

  “It’s just… it’s beautiful here.”

  “…It is,” she said softly. “You get used to it. But it was even better before they came. More peaceful. And most of all… quieter.”

  Nidal raised an eyebrow at the word quieter.

  “Never mind… come on!” she said, nudging him. “We’re almost there. Just up ahead!”

  Now he saw where she was headed. A canal ran along the side of the square, leading straight toward the city wall.