The night swallowed them whole. The back alleys behind the Hearth were a tangled maze of shadows, overflowing refuse, and the constant, dripping echo of runoff. The familiar city Kael knew—the main thoroughfares lit by flickering lanterns—was a world away. This was its underbelly, cold, wet, and unforgiving.
Sera moved with an unnerving certainty, her silver hair a faint beacon in the gloom. She never hesitated at intersections, choosing paths with a quiet confidence that left no room for doubt.
"How do you know where you're going?" Kael whispered, his voice swallowed by the narrow, high walls. His heart still hammered from the confrontation, every distant shout or clang of a shutter making him jump.
"I looked at a map of the city when I first arrived," she replied, her voice low and even. "It is wise to know all the exits of a cage before you find yourself trapped inside."
Her words sent a chill down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold. He focused on following her, on placing his feet quietly on the slick cobblestones, on ignoring the gnawing emptiness in his stomach that had nothing to do with hunger. He was homeless. A fugitive. The words didn't feel real.
They froze as the rhythmic tramp of iron-shod boots echoed from a parallel street. The Watch was still out, their patrols intensified. Kael pressed himself against a cold, damp wall, holding his breath. He could feel the katana on his back, its presence now feeling less like a comfort and more like a brand marking him for death.
Sera didn't flinch. She simply waited in the shadows, a statue of calm, until the sound faded. "They are searching the main arteries first. The capillaries will be last. We still have time."
*Capillaries?* The word was strange, academic. Not something a fellow orphan would typically use.
They continued, the journey a tense silence punctuated by near misses. Once, a stray dog rooting through garbage bared its teeth at them, but a single, sharp glance from Sera made it whimper and slink away. Kael filed the moment away with all the other strange, unexplained things about her.
Finally, the cramped alleys began to widen. The air changed, carrying the scent of hay, animals, and open fields. They were nearing the eastern edge of the city. The high outer wall loomed ahead, a dark silhouette against the slightly lighter sky. The Eastern Gate was just a little further—a smaller, less fortified entrance used mostly by farmers and traders at dawn.
But between them and the gate was a problem.
A checkpoint. A makeshift barricade had been set up, manned by two watchmen. A lone lantern swung from a pole, casting a wobbly circle of light on the ground. It was a routine post, but tonight, it was a formidable barrier.
Kael's hope, which had been a fragile thing, began to crumble. "They're already here," he breathed out, despair washing over him. "We're trapped."
Sera studied the scene, her head tilted. The two guards were bored, leaning on their spears and chatting. One was sharpening his blade; the other yawned widely.
"No," she said, a plan visibly forming behind her amethyst eyes. "This is good."
"Good? How is this good?"
"They are bored. They are cold. They believe their real duty is happening back in the city center, not out here on the edge of nowhere. Bored men see what they expect to see." She turned to him, her expression serious. "Take off your cloak."
"My cloak? Why?"
"Just do it. And give me the coin pouch."
Confused, Kael complied, handing her the worn leather pouch Matron Helga had given him. The cold night air bit through his thin tunic immediately.
Sera took the pouch and his cloak. With a few swift, efficient movements, she bundled the cloak around the pouch, shaping it into a rough, swaddled form. She then cradled it in her arms, rocking it gently.
She looked at him, and for a fleeting second, her mask of calm slipped, replaced by a look of such profound and practiced sorrow that it stole the breath from his lungs. Her shoulders slumped. Her lower lip trembled just so. The elegant, mysterious girl was gone, replaced by a terrified, heartbroken young woman.
"Follow my lead," she whispered, her voice now carrying a convincing tremor. "Say nothing. Look at the ground. And try to look desperate."
Before he could process the transformation, she stepped out of the alley and into the dim light leading toward the checkpoint, sobbing quietly.
"…please, sir, you must let us through! Please!"
Her voice was a masterpiece of panicked pleading. Kael, his heart in his throat, shuffled behind her, keeping his head down as instructed.
The two guards snapped to attention, hands going to their weapons. "Halt! City curfew is in effect! No one passes!"
"Oh, thank the gods, watchmen!" Sera cried, her voice breaking with artificial tears. She held the bundled cloak closer. "It's my baby! He's burning with fever! The physicker in the city said he couldn't help! He said we must get to the herb-witch in Oakhaven before dawn or… or…!" She dissolved into a fit of convincing sobs.
The guards exchanged uneasy glances. Their stern postures softened a fraction.
"A sick child?" the older one asked, peering at the bundle in Sera's arms.
"Yes! Please, I beg you! He's all I have! My husband… he was lost to the last orc raid…" She laid the tragedy on thick, each word designed to chip away at their resolve.
The younger guard took a step forward, his spear lowering. "Let me see him."
Kael's blood ran cold. This was it. The plan would fail.
But Sera reacted instantly, clutching the bundle to her chest and wailing louder. "No! Don't take him from me! The cold air will kill him! Please, sirs, I have… I have this!" With her free hand, she fumbled and let the coin pouch drop to the ground at the guards' feet. The few copper coins spilled out, glinting in the lantern light. It was everything they had.
It was a perfect offering. Not enough to be a bribe, but enough to be a desperate mother's entire world, given freely.
The two guards looked at the coins, then at Sera's beautifully tragic, tear-streaked face, and then at each other. The unspoken transaction was clear: take the pathetic offering and let the grieving woman through, or be the heartless monsters who killed a baby for following orders.
The older guard sighed, rubbing his brow. "Damn it all. Go on. Get out of here. And don't tell anyone we let you through."
Sera didn't need to be told twice. She snatched the now-empty pouch from the ground, sobbed a string of grateful blessings, and hurried through the gate, Kael shuffling quickly behind her.
They didn't stop. They didn't look back. They walked quickly down the dirt road, leaving the city walls and the lantern light behind them, until the darkness and the silence of the open fields enveloped them.
Only then, a hundred yards into the freedom of the night, did Sera stop. The sobs cut off instantly. The trembling stillness vanished. She straightened her posture, the mask of despair falling away to reveal the calm, enigmatic girl beneath. She tossed the bundled cloak back to Kael.
"The human heart is a heavier gate to pass than any made of iron and oak," she said, her voice once again her own. "And it is almost always left unguarded."
Kael stood there, shivering in the cold, staring at her. The fear of the chase was now mixed with a dizzying awe. Who *was* she?
Before he could form the question, a sharp, authoritative voice cut through the night from the direction of the city walls, carried by the wind.
"YOU! Stop where you are!"
A torch flared to life atop the wall. Then another. Captain Vorlik stood there, his figure outlined in flame, pointing directly at them. He had a Temple diviner beside him, a figure in white robes whose hands were already beginning to glow with a soft, searching light.
They had been made.
Sera's eyes widened, not with fear, but with grim acceptance. "Run."
And they ran.