After witnessing that gruesome scene, the little hope I had faded to dust.

  The lilies, supposed “elite forces” of the Raspelian army, were exterminated in but an instant by the staggering amount of incoming projectiles, all the size of a common longsword, and the handful amount of garrison troops that remained would’ve been no doubt disposed of shortly after. Our only option left was to flee before either side could notice.

  I stood up, brushing the dust off my ragged gambeson and then helping Kaytlinn back on her feet.

  Slow and steady, we walked into the mines with coordinated movements, one step after another, making sure neither of us put too much pressure on their injured limb.

  With the screaming of men and clashing of metals now only faintly echoing throughout the corridor, the light of the sky began being replaced with the artificial one of dimly lit oil lamps scattered across the floor, amongst piles of wood planks, nails, crude pickaxes and various other tools. How come were some of them still on? And that odor…

  “Kate, has anyone been using these mines since the Raspelian occupation?”

  My voice softly repeated back to me from across the tunnels in echo.

  “N-not that I know of. Why are you asking?”

  But instead of answering her question, I replied with another.

  “When was this outpost captured?”

  “Uh.” Her eyes squinted, trying to remember. “About a fortnight before I got drafted. And I’ve been on the road here for a couple days.”

  As we walk closer into the lamps’ light, I notice something strange come into view on the stone pavement, a shape, one that stands out from the rest. I stop in my tracks and throw out my arm, so as to block Kaytlinn’s path.

  “What? What is it?” She turns to me and whispers. Again, I don’t respond.

  Cautiously, I advance to inspect the foreign object from up close. However, after taking my first step, Kaytlinn grabs my collar and pulls me back.

  “Can you stop doing that?!” She asks, furious, yelling under her breath.

  Surprised by the sudden move, I turn around.

  “Doing what?”

  She scowls. “Not telling me anything. Ignoring my questions! Acting all cryptic all the time! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

  Her voice raises with each sentence.

  “I don’t—”

  Yet before I can reply, she talks over me, her words now quiet again.

  “What is going on? What did you see?”

  Silence settles between us for a short time as I dither.

  The realization that her words hold some weight to them disturbs my concentration. The trance I had previously entered becomes evident once it dissipates just as quickly as it appeared.

  “Oh.” I manage to utter, heeding her words.

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  “There’s something on the ground.”

  Kate’s eyes dart toward the murkily illuminated floor. Anger turns to uncertainty, then to wariness. Her stare lands on the same conspicuous shape, clearly distinct from other shadows.

  “May I?” I ask.

  Shortly after, she gives me another quick glance, before letting go of my clothes. As she does, I carefully squat down to pick up the lamp.

  With Kaytlinn anxiously watching from a safe distance, my breath held in suspense, I hover the lantern above the mysterious item. It’s a hand.

  My vision goes blurry. The dark background begins to dance and shift around and about as my lungs abruptly stop working. Another memory flashes before my eyes.

  The forest. The mist. That woman. Everything that happened yesterday replays in my mind, sped up. My sword sinking into the creature’s temple, golden drops trickling from her wound, then a bright spark, and then nothing. It’s not darkness; not an absence of light, but rather an absence of everything, a blindness of someone without the eyes to see, the blindness of a child in her mother’s womb. I try to scream, but nothing comes out of my mouth. A faint voice coming from all around me calls my name, yet my body cannot move. At the same time, a strange flavour creeps up from under my tongue, almost metallic in taste. It’s sickening, but as seconds go by, it increases in intensity, until it reaches a point where the nausea becomes unbearable. I try to scream again, forcing myself with every ounce of strength to make a sound—to make any sound at all escape me, but nothing works. My breath quickens, heart now sending sharp, vibrating pain through my chest with every beat. Again, a voice from behind me calls my name, yet I cannot move, as I become progressively weaker at the feeling of something going terribly wrong, the urge to vomit now almost completely overwhelming me, but my face gets slapped back to reality.

  “Ans.” Kaytlinn grabs my shoulder, as I hold my reddened cheek. “Now’s not the time to be squeamish.”

  She reaches for the lamp. I instinctively loosen my grip, letting it fall into her grasp.

  After making sure that I’m okay, she proceeds to take the lead, hobbling forward over to what is in front of us. In the lantern’s projection, the highlights reveal a humanoid figure on the ground, wearing just simple tattered clothes, laying on its back in a pool of blood. Needless to say, it’s dead, but the body doesn’t look rotten, it’s not been here for very long.

  “Ah. I knew him.” She says, her words carrying a hint of sadness in them.

  “You did?”

  She sighs, walking over to it, his facial features now illuminated and in full display. The eyes are open, but devoid of any light. His right hand—the one I saw before my memory got triggered—is positioned near his head, closed shut, almost as if holding something, while his left is distortedly contorted, hanging just above his neck.

  Upon closer inspection, there’s a trail of blood originating from a wound just between his chin and throat. The piece of something shiny glints inside. A broken blade, perhaps a dagger.

  “Markus. He was part of the caravan that transported me here. Worked as a guard.” She says, limping closer to the body. “He was a good man.”

  “Do you know who might’ve done this?” I ask her.

  “Don’t have a clue.” Her head shakes. “I saw him just last night with a basketful of bread. When I questioned him, he said ‘he and a few mates were celebrating something’, to not tell the sergeant about his whereabouts if asked.”

  “Celebrating with bread?” I inquire, confused.

  “Weird, I know, but I didn’t question him further. Even though a nice boy, he wasn’t the brightest, so it didn’t seem that much out of the ordinary.”

  A Raspelian soldier on-duty sneaks out during the night for a supposed ‘meeting’, carrying loaves of bread, that we find dead the next day inside abandoned excavation tunnels with barely his briefs on, murdered by a broken dagger lodged into his throat. Nothing about this situation adds up.

  “Well—his equipment is gone, and I don’t see any basket around.”

  “Was it… looters?”

  “This far up inside a Raspelian-controlled fort? I don’t think so. We don’t even know if these mines connect to the outside yet.”

  “Well." She says, raising her lantern. "We can’t go back now.”

  “That is true.” I reply. “But we should be on our guard from now on.”

  “You weren’t already?”

  I huff, slightly irked at her comment.

  “I just meant that now we’re most likely in imminent danger. We’ll have to be ready, especially given our current predicament. Someone, or something, could be hiding inside these mines, and we no longer have an army between them and us.”

  “Something?” Kaytlinn asks, puzzled by my choice of words. She must still be skeptical of my story. Lost in thought, I break eye contact; it’s best not to argue about it now.