Chapter 2: Ryan
The floor was filthy. Ryan kicked an old piece of junk lying in his way and it made a satisfying clang against the far wall. “Is this what you call a hideout?”
“We are hidden, are we not?” The other man was unknown to Ryan, but he was supposed to be an ally. That’s what he was told, at least, but he wasn’t sure if they could be trusted. By all accounts he acted in line. But it was almost too perfect. Rehearsed, even. But he had been recommended by everyone else involved, so he had no choice.
“What’s your name?” Ryan asked.
“Why do you want to know?”
“You’re going out of your way to help me. You’re not only sympathetic to the cause but an active participant. If we go down, you go down too. I have a suspicion that you won’t be leaving us any time soon. I would like to know my new associate’s name.”
“Gus, you can call me Gus.”
Ryan meandered about the dingy basement, looking at the grime and moss clinging to the stone walls and the trash piled into corners, but keeping an eye on the other man. “Why do you support us?”
“I believe what you’re doing is right.”
“That’s the obvious answer, Gus. Why are we right?”
“You’re actively fighting against the tyrannical king and are giving a voice to the people?”
“That’s the obvious answer again, Gus. Why do you care?”
“Am I not allowed to care for my fellow man just because?”
Ryan looked at him directly now. “No. No, in my experience you can’t. Everyone has a reason, and everyone’s reason always comes down to how it affects them personally.”
“I suppose I’m the exception, then.”
Ryan refused to respond and took to examining the ceiling, still made of cobble and somehow just as gross as the rest of the nook. “How’d it even get this dirty?”
“It’s not really used for much anymore. My father’s business has moved beyond the confines of the shop above us. Everything that was once down here moved to storage houses months ago now. Since then, no one cares about the cellar.”
“And the trash?”
“You’re not the first revolutionary to need it. Speaking of, what’d you do this time?”
“I won’t be sharing that with you, Gus.”
“Well then tell me how serious it is. I at least need to know how long I have to keep you here.”
“Why?”
“Ever heard of food, Ryan? Water? Alibis?”
“I thought Serenity was going to provide those.”
“She is, but, I still need to plan it out. Y’know, tell people where I’ve been and for how long, find the best times to go get the supplies since we can’t be having a seemingly random person breaking into my dad’s cellar, stuff like that.”
“Fine, fine. Yeah, I suppose you’re right. It’s pretty serious this time. Expect a week of high alert from the soldiers, and about a week longer of moderate alert before they begin waiting for the next one.”
“Good lord dude, what did you do?”
“I’m not saying.”
“You don’t trust me.”
“I don’t know you.”
“Yet you’re here, alone, with no one but me, in my family’s basement, when I have a sword and you do not, and no one else knows you’re here at this very moment including your friends. You clearly trust me enough despite not knowing me.”
“I don’t have a choice in being here. It’s that or get caught, and if you turn out to be a spy, I was caught either way. But if you aren’t a spy, I still increase my risk by telling you.”
Gus crossed his arms but didn’t press any further. Ryan continued to mill about, pacing back and forth and side to side and every which way he could in the small room. The single torch on the wall was not exactly conducive to a productive environment, but he had gotten more than used to these conditions. Ryan would go so far as to say this is the type of place he thrived, minus the dirt. Usually his cellars were clean.
They fell into a steady silence, not necessarily comfortable but not hostile. There was a noticeable distance between them, but Ryan ignored this. He had a lot of thinking to do, and certainly a lot of time to spend.
He paced as he thought about his next actions. He likely wouldn’t be getting out of here for two weeks at a minimum, and given that his little escapade just occurred, he couldn’t risk anything except food and water to be brought to him, maybe some slips of paper with important information as Serenity thought relevant. He trusted her a lot, for sure. Hopefully she was out there now taking care of his brother.
He deeply regretted not being there for Graves. But it was for the best, in the end. Ryan was never the best brother, but in this way he could create a better tomorrow for him.
And he had to plan out his next move. He just got done pulling one of the biggest stunts this city had seen yet. The king’s treasury had mysteriously and suddenly exploded, sending the people’s gold back to them. How could he follow that up? He knew he didn’t have to do something as grandiose, though that would be nice, but it had to be a progression of the revolution somehow, a conceptual next step in liberation. I could just do it again, he thought at one point. Though he wasn’t there to prove it, it was certainly true that most of the gold failed to get back in the hands of the people. The guards were many and, refusing to let innocents be harmed, the citizens weren’t exactly made aware beforehand. So if there’s some semblance of a structure rebuilt, maybe more people would be expecting something like that.
But no, that wasn’t feasible. Not only would security be massively increased there more than anywhere else, but workers would probably be sleeping there overnight. They’d be caught in the crossfire. Unacceptable.
“Hey Gus,” Ryan said, startling him. “What would you do next?”
“I don’t know what you did before.”
“Doesn’t matter the specifics. Just, before we did something to try and give people their money back. We all know the monarchs are failing to use our taxes to improve the city, so we want people to spend it how it benefits them. But assume the material goal failed, but the conceptual goal succeeded. What comes after that?”
“What was the conceptual goal?”
“To get the citizenry to view it as possible, to take their livelihoods into their own hands.”
“You’re very on the nose for everything except what you actually did.”
“I’m leading a revolution, Gus. I don’t have much time to mince words.”
“Maybe you should. Maybe some poetry is what they need.”
“What?”
“I mean, maybe they need a voice. Seems you’ve been priming them for long enough. They just need to be told what to do.”
“Like give a speech?”
“Yeah, but a good one. Don’t just say ‘The monarchy is oppressive, take your life back,’ you need to speak to their soul, man.” Gus stepped away from the wall, swinging his arms around as he spoke. “Get them to understand not just materially, but intellectually. Everyone knows their lives suck under the new king and his puppeteers. But unless you think you can take the entire system down by yourself, which I know you don’t, then you need to give the people something new, not just what they had.”
“I’m not a poet.” It was a good idea, Ryan thought, but it didn’t seem possible for him. He was notoriously bad at communication. He was the person who did things.
“Well, find someone else to do it I don’t know.”
“Would you volunteer?”
“Now you trust me?”
“Like I said, you’re either a spy or not, it’s too late for me either way. If you are, this means nothing anyway. If you aren’t, you can help us out.”
“I get it, I get it.”
Ryan had nothing else to say for the moment, and it was evident after a while that neither did Gus. Ryan went back to his pacing and contemplating. Gus had a good idea, it just wasn’t something he could set up himself. But as he worked it over, another problem seemed to show itself. Whoever did it would be set up for capture. There would be no way to simultaneously reach the actual citizenry while not being apprehended. That especially excluded Ryan from doing it, because the moment he stepped foot in a public pavilion or on a pedestal he would be arrested, no time given for his purported speech. It would have to be someone unknown to the authorities. At the same time, it would have to be someone likely willing to die for the cause. Ryan was, or he liked to think he was, but losing their leader would leave everyone else in disarray. Morale would be lowered from that more than raised from any speech he could give. Not entirely out of the question, he concluded, but definitely dependent on certain circumstances. I’ll need to think of something else in the meantime.
They passed days like this, stuck among the trash with hardly any light, sleeping on dirt and mold. They paced, exercised, or otherwise got lost in thought. Ryan continued to think about his next move, and had a few ideas with promise. He wasn’t sure what Gus was thinking about, but it was probably something similar, given that that is what they talked about in those brief few minutes each day they bothered to. No news had come from the outside yet, though they did receive their food and water as needed. They weren’t full or completely hydrated, but it would hold them over. Nothing new.
“You’ve quite the resolve,” Ryan eventually said one day, a few hours after they had woken. “Staying here for so long.”
“You’d know better than I that it’s just something you get used to.”
“Yeah, yeah it is. You know, you’re alright, man.”
“I’m just doing what I can. You’re out there doing good things.”
“Well, none of it could be done without—” The bell to the storefront rang. They fell into a dead silence as footsteps, heavy footsteps, echoed from above them. It wasn’t Serenity. Ryan looked to Gus, attempting to ask if it could be his father. He wasn’t certain if Gus understood his expression, but he shook his head. They waited, refusing even to blink and only breathing when absolutely necessary. Ryan very carefully backed to the far wall, away from the cellar entrance, only to find Gus already there. Whoever was there was most likely there for the actual store part of the building, but no chances could be taken. Ryan rolled up his left sleeve, revealing a line of tattoos across it.
The bell rang again, and they both let out a breath, but sharply drew it back in when more footsteps entered. The amount of people up top kept increasing until it was indiscernible how many were even there; footsteps turned to drums and drums turned to thunder as they all congregated near the back left corner. The cellar door.
Gus jumped to the side of the wall they were next to and began searching for something. Ryan placed his first two fingers in the crook of his left elbow, arm outstretched and faced the entrance. Kicking against wood, followed shortly by cracking and splintering.
A pause, then another crack reached the cellar, followed by step after step on the cobble staircase. There was no use in staying silent anymore.
“Gus what are you doing?” Ryan hissed. Gus remained silent, focused on clearing away some dirt. He seemed to find what he was looking for.
“Back up,” he said, pulling out his sword. “Now.”
Ryan did as he was told as royal guards began to file into the cellar, swords similarly drawn. “Put the sword down!” yelled one at the front. Gus raised his sword, aimed at the wall. The guards charged. Ryan rolled his fingers down his arm, continuing up his hand and down the same fingers. A large plume of fire manifested in the air in front of him, engulfing the room in heat and light and arcing towards the approaching guards. A shadow appeared in the flame and a knight, hitherto hidden by the crowd, pushed through. The plume disappeared and the guards were once again able to approach, defended by their armored warrior.
The screech of scraping metal pierced the air and out of Ryan’s peripheral he saw the wall was gone and Gus was inside the newly open space. Ryan jumped out of the way as the knight’s sword came crashing down. He ran down the hall, quickly meeting Gus and they matched each other’s pace. Ryan checked over his shoulder to find some of the guards chasing after them. They were bogged down by their light armor and weapons, but still not far behind. Men shouted, and the few at the front held back as others took the lead, kneeling and aiming crossbows down the tunnel. Ryan stopped, placed his fingers in his elbows, and stared them down. When he heard the command to fire, he did just that, and fire filled the whole of the tunnel, being funneled towards the guards.
“Ryan! Get over here!” Gus was ahead by some yards, and Ryan took off before the fire faded. He caught up again, and the crossbows were almost reloaded. When Ryan had passed him, Gus struck the side of the tunnel. A stone wall appeared in the tunnel, blocking it completely.
“How thick is it?” Ryan asked.
“Almost the whole thing,” Gus answered. “Most of the tunnel was simply immaterial. I killed the runes maintaining that.”
“You left runes like that out for that long? Are you okay?”
“Yeah I’m fine. Demons don’t usually go underground. It’s safer down here, and since it’s all stone, more effect for less soul.”
“That’s fair. Where are we?”
“Underground.”
“You know what I mean.”
“We’re under the building across the street. It connects to the sewer if we keep going. From there we can go anywhere, but they’ll probably realize that’s where we’re headed. There’s only so many places to go with a tunnel in this direction.”
“Yeah, okay. We’ll figure out where to go once there. Thanks, by the way. Great system.”
“Took a lot of work to figure out, but we got it done. Served us well. I suppose the cellar is off limits hereon out. I’ll need to get back in eventually to kill the rune that opened it though.”
“We’ll get that done soon. Speaking of, why didn’t you tell me? Would’ve been nice to know beforehand.”
“As a matter of principle I don’t tell anyone about these things. I’m sure you can appreciate it.”
Ryan grunted in acknowledgement. A few moments later, Gus spoke again. “Those tattoos are sick, by the way. Thanks for that.”
“They would’ve been much more effective if there wasn’t a damn knight. A knight! How’d they even know we were there?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. Someone probably told.”
“I don’t know who it could be. Only four people even knew I was there, all of whom would rather die than give over the cause.”
“No one knew I was down there. To everyone I knew, I was out on a trip to the capital and didn’t know when I would be back.”
“So I’m either with a spy, or someone managed to find it out, hiding and following people. Assuming you’re telling the truth of course.”
“And assuming you are.”
“Yes. But I think we can both make that bet. If you still want to know what I did this time, I blew up the treasury.”
“Dude, seriously? Good gods, no wonder they’re so aggressive right now. Good on you.”
“I wish it could’ve been more effective, but it was a good step.”
“What made it ineffective?”
“No one around to actually take the gold back. So it was basically just an expensive fireworks show. But, the goal was to get people thinking about it, y’know?”
“That’s better than nothing.”
“Yes it is.” They reached the main sewer tunnel. They couldn’t guess when the king’s men would realize this as a likely target, so they wouldn’t want to hesitate on a decision for very long. But that was far easier said than done. Their options seemed to boil down to the open streets, which would probably be a death sentence, or some public building.
“We could just go to the end,” Gus suggested after some debate. “Where it’s dumped.”
“Horrible pun, but that seems a good idea.”
“Do you know which way it is?”
Ryan whistled for a moment as he thought about it. “The main dumping ground is on the south side of the city. The storefront was facing east, we continued east, so this tunnel runs north-south. That way,” he said, thumb pointing over his shoulder. They started their march in that direction, ruminating on the cause of their discovery. It made no sense, they concluded. No one they knew would tell on them or even could tell on them. They walked through the steps they both took to get to the cellar and even planning the whole operation out multiple times, searching for any discrepancies or anyone acting even a little suspiciously. To the best of their memories, there was nothing. After a while they dropped, with Ryan suggesting that they would be able to figure things out once they were with their people again, and that their time now would be better spent figuring out what to do after they were in the open.
“Best bet,” Ryan claimed, “is to find Serenity. She should have the most information. You’ll have to come with me, of course. You’re not safe anymore now that they’ve seen you.”
“That’s fine with me. But what if we can’t find her? Captured or fleeing or otherwise.”
“Then we find someone else. But regardless, we’ll have to wait for nightfall. Probably hit the countryside until then. The terrain nearby is relatively flat, but a mile or two away there’s some nice hills to use for cover in case there’s search parties.”
“Sounds like a plan. You’re good at that.”
“That’s how we got where we are today.”
They could finally distinctly make out the grate at the end and made their final strides to reach it. It wasn’t very sturdy anymore, just as with most public infrastructure. A few well placed kicks on both sides brought the thing down. Only below them was a malignant pile of waste.
“Are you ready?” Ryan asked.
“No, I can’t say that I am. Let’s go.” They jumped together as far as they could, sinking into the waste like the mud after a heavy rain. Clambering as quickly as they could to get to the edge of the bog, they did their best to rid themselves of the waste, eventually resorting to taking off their clothes, saturated as they were.
“This is horrible dude,” Gus said in disgust.
“You’re telling me. Second time I’ve had to do something like this and the smell does not get any easier to bear. I might throw up.”
“No way, you’ve done this before?”
“Oh yeah, back when we burned the barracks.”
“And you had to escape using the sewage?”
“We are now. Different spot, smaller pile.”
They finished cleaning themselves off as best as they could, resorting to rolling around in the grass to remove the filth. They both resolved to take the longest possible bath they could at their earliest possible convenience. But all-in-all they determined it to not be the worst experience ever. A life of hardships does that to someone, Ryan supposed.
The two trudged outward, reaching the hills within the hour. They stayed there until the sky began to darken. No sight or sound of search parties came near enough for them to notice. Hopefully, if there were any to begin with, the trail of waste was faint enough to be overlooked.
Under the growing watch of the stars they marched back to the city. There wasn’t much to talk about at this point in time; their anxieties were only growing as they got closer to the lights. But it was not necessarily an uneasy silence. “Jumping into a pile of feces with someone sort of bonds you with them in strange ways,” Ryan had said not far along in the walk. Now that they were nearing the gate, they held their breaths. What now?
Guards were, naturally enough, guarding the entrance. They were far enough away with enough of the sunlight gone to where they could stay hidden, even without cover. But if they approached they would be seen without a problem, unless they could get close enough to the wall in the first place to stick by its side, and hope no one decided to look over on a whim.
“How big is that rock?” Gus asked, motioning to a nebulous black lump in front of them by some yards.
“I’d estimate a foot wide at least, but it‘s close enough that we’ll be seen. And we definitely can’t hide behind it.”
“But if there’s one big stone, there’s probably more around here, right?”
“Sure, that would make sense.”
“How many runes do you know?”
“Depends, what’s the plan?”
After Gus had explained, they got to work searching the nearby field. They found one after a few minutes, smaller than the other stone but sufficient. A second was discovered after roughly half an hour of extra searching, and the third not long after the second. Then they scrounged around in the dirt for the second time that evening, picking up what they could work with and writing the requisite runes. It was not easy in the dark, and the possibility of mistakes severely limited the complexity they were comfortable with trying, but after a brainstorm they had determined the best way to achieve the desired effect. After double checking everything was ready, they drew the final rune on the first stone.
The runes activated, lifting the stone in the air for a few seconds. The wait made Ryan nervous, wondering if the other runes had been properly written. Fortunately this anxiety was abated when the stone hurled itself towards the city wall. Improperly maintained though it was, the wall was sturdy, and the stone broke into pieces. Still, the wall was damaged, and a cloud of dust began to rise into the air. Damage was not the goal, however; every guard in the vicinity immediately started rushing over to the point of impact.
The second stone was awoken now, flying even further to the side and once again impacting the wall, a bit higher than intended but still at a safe distance to not harm anyone potentially on the other side. In quick succession the third was fired. This boulder was much larger than appearance would suggest, most of its mass buried under the grass. But it, too, was flung at the wall, now falling short and streaking across the field before smashing into it, leaving a gaping hole in the stone fortification. Alarm bells rang throughout the vicinity and torches lit up all along the wall. But by that point Ryan and Gus had already made it to the base of the wall. Gus, some preserved clay in hand, began writing as fast as he could. It wouldn’t be long until more guards came running, preparing for some sort of attack. But the section of the wall dissipated before that worry came to fruition.
They were inside the city. Ryan knew where they needed to go, the challenge was getting there. They stuck to the wall for most of their time. There was a hideout not far away that, with luck, whoever compromised their previous location wasn’t able to compromise this one. Ryan had Gus follow him, giving nonverbal signals to dictate their movements. The guards were in a frenzy searching for the prospective assaulters, and further yelling rang through the nearby streets when they discovered the magical hole in the wall. They knew that someone was inside, and patrols began searching. But they were disorganized and rushed in a desperate bid to catch the intruder rather than organized like they should. The guards certainly weren’t military and certainly didn’t get the pay or training they used to. Although significantly better off than the commoners, which was probably by design to disincentivize disloyalty, the king’s greed left another weakness to exploit.
Still, with their sheer number they were hard to avoid, and many times Ryan and Gus found themselves hiding in whatever nook or cranny they could find and fit themselves into, often at odd angles and odder positions.
At last they found it. It was a completely average house in the middle of the residential district. An old, frail woman lived there, keeping up with her plants in the windows and baking pies to sell at the market. Her family, wealthy in their own right a few cities over, supported her and her cozy life. She also happened to be Serenity’s grandmother and was a massive supporter of the revolution, having lived through severe oppression when she was a young girl herself.
All this Ryan explained to Gus when they made it inside, the door regularly being left unlocked for the freedom fighters to come and go as necessary. The house was empty, which was not necessarily a rare occurrence, but definitely didn’t ease their concerns at all.
After exploring the house a little, just as a reassurance that everything was okay, they decided the first order of business was a bath. Ryan showed Gus the bathroom, complete with a large metal tub, charcoal underneath on the stone floor, and scrolls stored in a cabinet with every rune necessary to start the bath except one missing line. With one ink stroke the tub filled with just the right amount of water, and Ryan started the fire. The scroll was burned and Ryan went to one of the various caches stashed around the place in search of clean clothes for the two.
When Gus was sufficiently cleaned, the water was dispelled with another scroll and restored with a third for Ryan. Gus said he was going to wander about and just see what was up, and Ryan let himself relax for the first time in what he realized was probably over a week at that point, with stress from the planning, preparation, and execution of the plot and then the hiding, running, and making their way back.
It took a while, but eventually the stains left his skin and the smell began to leave the air, with significant help from the smoke vents in the ceiling. When he did get out, savoring the feeling of clean, undamaged pants and shirt, he went and found Gus sitting in an old rocking chair, made of a strange, red foreign wood that Serenity’s grandmother loved to talk about. “Exotic,” she would always say.
“What’s the move?” Gus asked, a smile on his face and rocking back and forth, eyes grazing the room which was filled with knick-knacks and memorabilia.
“Wait, I suppose,” offered Ryan. He took up another seat from the dining table, flipping it around and facing Gus with his legs crossed. “There’s food, water, and Serenity will be back sometime soon. I’m sure her grandmother is off visiting her family. If we need, there’s a crook behind the pantry. Very cramped, but almost unfindable. Unless you know it’s there. Which, obviously, if we have a spy they probably will. But what can you do?”
“I suppose so, man. So, how’d you get the tattoos?”
“Everyone kept telling me I needed a good way to defend myself. That and start fires on the fly. Scrolls weren’t an option, as you’ve seen. I went with my arm because those are easy to hide and I needed room. Knuckle tattoos are easy to pass off as youthful and ‘oh I was a stupid kid, woe is me,’ type decision.”
“What if you need other runes? What do you do?”
“Ash can be used for many runes,” Ryan said with a laugh, which Gus returned.
“Think I could ever get some? I mean, I suppose I’m in the thick of it now, right?”
“I wouldn’t exactly say that, actually. It’s impossible to say if anyone saw your face. I wouldn’t risk it, but you can’t exactly go disappearing. Especially not with your father as prominent as he is. But yeah, definitely keep a low profile. And if you would keep working with us, which the gods know we would appreciate, it would be a good idea. Unfortunately our artist disappeared not long ago, actually last month. Don’t know if she couldn’t handle the stress—which is fair, and she was always the nervous type—or got captured or what.”
“How many fighters have been arrested?”
“Oh, probably a few dozen by now. Over the years. We have a good track record of getting away, but mishaps happen.”
“Maybe that could be your next plan. Breaking them out, I mean. Might do some good.”
“Yeah, I’ve thought about that, but the prisons are all stone and underground. Plus, as much as I care for them, chances are quite a few have gone mad. The public wouldn’t take kindly to prison breaks.”
“You know your stuff.”
“You know your runes. Where’d you learn them?”
“Long story short, father absent for business and some unsavory friends.”
“Well Gus, you’re in better company now.”
“I’m glad to be here.”
“Speaking of, it’s probably good to go to bed. If you check behind you, yeah, by the fireplace, look up, you can get to the attic. Good place to stay the night. There’s blankets and pillows and whatnot.”
“What will you do?”
“I’ll be up soon. Gonna leave a note for Serenity, letting her know what happened in case she doesn’t have the time to come check on us.”
Without argument Gus pulled down the ladder, disappearing into the dark above. Ryan wasn’t too concerned about his ability to see though, with a large window facing the street providing good lighting from the sky.
After a few minutes, Ryan himself stood up and found some blank paper and quill. He wrote out what had transpired in the past few days, especially in the past few hours. He paced, walked around the house for a while, thinking of what to say. He didn’t want to write too much, but they had gotten good at communicating with brevity. When the note was done he placed it behind a bowl of dried tea leaves in the pantry, opposite the hiding cubby.
Ryan took a deep breath, still slightly sour from waste, scrunched his nose at it, and let it out. He took some time to stretch and relax his muscles, paced around some more and examined various statuettes that he had looked at dozens of times before, all in service of finding a new plan. A new controversy to get the people thinking. He kept going back to what Gus had said, a speech or something else to stir their souls. As it was it wasn’t feasible, he stood by that, but there had to be a way to make it work.
In the end, Ryan gave up for the night. He’d let some others work it over as well, brainstorm some solutions. Maybe they’d go for something else, but it was worth a lookover. Exasperated and sore, he let out a sigh. “Yeah, it’s time for sleep.” As he moved to the living room, he suddenly stopped. Footsteps from the front door. Not the street, but the step itself. Ryan stared at the door, hand reaching for anything on a nearby shelf.
The door opened. It was Serenity. Her short stature did nothing to hide the seriousness painted on her face. “Oh my gods, you gave me a heart attack,” Ryan said.
“We need to go outside, now,” Serenity said. She pushed her curly black hair to the side of her face, giving him a stern look.
“What’s going on? Gus is upstairs I—”
“It’s serious. Gus can wait.”
Ryan rolled down his sleeve in case someone saw them. He walked to the door as Serenity went back down the steps. He followed slowly, unsure of what was going on. She was only this serious when things were bad. Really bad. He grabbed a ceramic bowl off the shelf near the door just in case. If it came to it, hopefully her grandmother wouldn’t mind it too much.
On the street, Ryan scanned around. Serenity was standing in the middle, staring at something to her left. Whatever it was, Ryan couldn’t see it. “What’s—”
“In the name of the king,” came a voice from behind him, “you are placed under arrest.”
On both of his sides were royal guards, armed with spears. Two other guards slowly moved onto the street from around nearby houses. Two knights, clad in magically enhanced metal armor, followed them.
“Serenity, why?” Ryan asked as the guards closed in. She didn’t turn around. She didn’t even move her head. Ryan grit his teeth and started to hold up his hands. He was calculating how quickly he could pull up his sleeve and whip up a blaze. It wasn’t looking good. He couldn’t take down the knights anyway, and if he turned it on the guards behind him he risked burning down the house. And he couldn’t use it on Serenity either. He was sure that however they forced him to do this, she had to. She wouldn’t betray him for personal gain, but it was more than possible they figured out her connection and got someone close to her. That could be why the house was empty.
With one option left, Ryan acted quickly. His sleeve down, he unleashed a bolt of fire straight in the air. Hopefully Gus would see. A stinging pain shocked his nerves from the side of the head, but it, alongside the rest of his awareness, went black.
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