The wheels of the wagon creaked slowly as we rolled away from the ruins of Venice.
The city looked peaceful now. But not the peaceful kind you find in a quiet morning. This was the kind that came after death. After war. It was the silence of loss. The type of silence that echoed too loud in your chest. And yet, there was something comforting about it. Like the city, though broken, was finally resting.
I sat close to the edge of the wooden wagon, letting the breeze hit my face. The smell of smoke still clung to my clothes, but the air was cleaner here, far from the burning wreckage. Behind us, the sun began to rise slowly, casting an orange glow across the distant rooftops. It painted the world in gold and sadness.
Captain Strix was in the lead wagon. At some point during the ride, he called us closer and unrolled an old map across his lap.
"This is where we're headed," he said in a low voice, pointing at a marked path that twisted like a serpent through hills and forests.
I leaned forward and followed his finger. "Siena?"
He nodded. "Siena. Deep in the heart of Tuscany. It's one of the few trade cities still untouched by demon raids. We'll take shelter there, regroup, and from there head back to Sector 38."
My eyes scanned the map and stopped where it all started. Sector 38. The place we were stationed before everything went to hell. That small fort and hunter's outpost where we received our orders, where the mission began.
"How long till we get there?" I asked.
"Two days. Maybe three, if the terrain slows us down," he said. "It's not a straight route. The roads twist. And the land out there… it changes. We'll be crossing valleys, rivers, and old battlegrounds. So we move slow. Stay hidden. We're not safe yet."
I nodded quietly. His voice carried the weight of someone who'd been through it all before.
We spent the first day on the move, trying to shake off the exhaustion of the battle. No one said much. We were all lost in our own thoughts. The children we rescued sat in the third wagon, heads resting against each other. Mothers whispered lullabies to calm them, their voices barely louder than the wind.
Julian was in the second wagon, lying on his side with his burnt hands wrapped in cloth. I could hear him groan now and then. The pain hadn't left him. Iris sat beside him, gently pressing a wet cloth to his forehead. She didn't speak much either. But I could see the way her eyes followed him—worried, guarded. I had never thought Iris could care about someone this way.
That night, we made camp just outside a small valley.
The fire crackled gently in the center. Everyone sat close, sharing what little warmth we could. Captain Strix sharpened his blade in silence, while Liam stared off into the dark woods, hands resting on his knees.
"I still see their faces," Liam said quietly.
We all turned to him.
"The demons?" I asked.
He shook his head. "The people. The ones we couldn't save."
No one answered at first. It was a heavy truth.
"I know," I finally said. "I see them too. When I close my eyes."
"We did our best," Iris whispered. She was sitting beside Julian, still watching over him.
Captain Strix looked up from his blade. "Sometimes, doing your best means carrying the guilt too."
He tossed a small piece of wood into the fire. Sparks danced into the air like fireflies.
Julian stirred a little, his voice hoarse. "My hands… still burn."
Iris leaned closer. "You should rest. Talking will only make it worse."
Julian smiled weakly. "Just wanted to hear someone's voice."
Iris reached out and gently took his arm. "Then listen to mine. You'll be okay. We'll find help."
He looked at her, tired eyes meeting hers. And for a brief moment, there was a quiet exchange between them—unspoken but deeply felt.
"You care now, huh?" Julian said, trying to tease her.
Iris rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed pink in the firelight. "Don't make me regret it."
He chuckled softly. "Wouldn't dare."
The rest of us smiled faintly. It was strange how even in the middle of sorrow, little moments of warmth could still find a way in.
Carlos sat near the fire too, silent most of the time. He still looked pale, not yet fully recovered. But he was alive, and that meant something.
I nudged him lightly. "You alright?"
He gave a small nod. "Just… tired. Everything feels like a dream. Like none of this is real."
"It's real," I said. "But we're still here. That means we keep moving."
"I owe you my life," he said softly. "You and Iris."
I didn't know what to say. I wasn't looking for thanks. But hearing it meant something.
The next day, the journey continued.
The wagons moved slowly through narrow paths between forest and rock. The sun shone brighter now, and the wind felt softer. It was almost peaceful, until Julian screamed again.
We stopped.
Iris called out, "Strix! It's getting worse!"
Captain Strix jumped off his horse and climbed into the second wagon. He looked at Julian's hands and winced. The bandages had started to blacken, the burns spreading.
"There's nothing normal about this," he muttered.
"You think it's the curse?" I asked from outside.
Strix nodded. "It fits everything the old stories warned about. The demon blade… it carries a punishment for humans who use it to kill its own. Especially if they draw blood."
He sighed deeply. "We need a real healer. Maybe someone in Siena will know what to do. For now, we just try to ease his pain."
Julian's breathing was ragged. Iris held his hand, ignoring the smell of burning flesh.
"I don't care what it takes," she whispered to Strix. "We'll save him."
Strix met her eyes. "Then we'll keep going."
The journey stretched into the third day.
The landscape began to change. We passed broken ruins, old watchtowers, and fields that once held battles long forgotten. The children stared wide-eyed at the statues and stone crosses that lined the road.
"Was there a war here?" one of the boys asked.
"Yes," I said. "A long time ago. But some wars never really end."
As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the road, Siena finally came into view.
The city stood proudly, its tall stone towers reaching into the sky. Flags fluttered on rooftops. The buildings were old, but not broken. Worn, but alive. Unlike Venice, this place had been spared—for now.
We crossed the main bridge into the city. Guards at the gates inspected us carefully, eyes narrowing at our appearance.
"We've brought survivors," Strix said firmly. "They need food. Shelter. Safety."
The guard captain nodded slowly. "You've seen battle."
"Yes," Liam replied. "And we'd rather not see another one this soon."
They let us in.
The streets were made of cobblestone. Children played in alleyways. Market vendors shouted about fresh bread and clean water. It felt like a different world.
The survivors from our wagons looked around in awe. Some of the children started to cry. Not from fear this time—but from relief.
We were guided to a nearby safehouse near the edge of town. It was simple, but warm. There was a large hall inside with beds and a fire already burning.
That night, after everyone had eaten, we gathered again—this time with less fear.
Carlos sat beside Iris as she fed Julian water slowly. He looked more stable now, though the pain still lived behind his eyes.
"You stayed with me," Julian said quietly.
Iris looked at him. "Of course I did."
"Why?" he asked. "You're not really the… soft type."
She smiled. "Maybe I'm changing."
He chuckled, then winced. "Don't change too much. I like your edge."
She leaned forward and whispered, "Then stay alive. And maybe I'll keep it."
I watched them, a small smile tugging at my lips. Maybe this world, despite everything, still had space for love to grow.
Captain Strix came back after a long conversation with one of the Siena commanders.
"We rest here for the night," he said. "But we don't stay long. The journey to Sector 38 isn't over. And Julian still needs help."
I stood and stretched. "We'll be ready."
He nodded. "Good. Because the worst may not be behind us."