The Crimson Dawn
Toll of Blood

Vale felt Idris stare at them in disbelief when their mind was unchanged by the end of packing. He begged and pleaded but when Vale asked him if he had a way out of his mess, he went silent. He didn’t, he wasn’t a problem-solver, he was a problem-causer and Vale loved him anyway. So, they were leaving, away from the addictions, the gambling, dad’s old workshop, the smoke in the air at all times, and the dark hole that was Ravoryn. Idris’s only real setback was that Ravoryn was the home of his addictions, but Vale assured him there would always be smugglers in the cities above and that maybe it was time to stop being so dependent on things that only hurt him.

“Maybe I should just stay here,” Idris folded his arms and Vale only looked at him, trying to figure out if he was bluffing or not.

“I don’t like the prospect of leaving you behind for the vultures. You’d be dead within a month,” Vale said as if they believed him.

“Now, you’re being kind. I wouldn’t last that long without you, Vale,” Idris threw his duffel bag over his shoulder and went through the door before he could talk himself out of it. Vale followed him out, their heart begging them to stay while their head knew it was best to go. There was nothing for them here besides the leftovers of their father who was long with the Grim Wolf.

Vale locked the door behind them and hid their face beneath a hood as the streetlights shined on in the dark pit of Ravoryn. Vale had never seen the sun before, felt the wind, or seen the sky and the clouds. Vale wondered what it would be like to see things she had only imagined.

Vale grabbed Idris’s hand, holding on to it as tightly as he was holding theirs. The only thing they needed was each other, even if Idris would spend their next nights, shaking and sweating and crying for whatever was his latest drug. They would get through it if they had to live on the streets of Aspyn for years before they make anything of themselves.

Vale knelt to open the grate and they saw Idris scrunch his nose under his hood. “In there?” He asked as if it wasn’t obvious and they didn’t have any other choice. Vale waited for Idris to crawl inside, not even giving him a response. He took a deep breath, shook himself off, and crawled inside, Vale smiled before following him, closing the grate behind him.

It was dark and cold, and it was hard to guide Idris while being behind him, but Vale eventually got them to their destination, The Haunt, where the poor and unfortunate came to sleep and escape whatever powerful lord didn’t want to see the homeless. But it was also where the illegal businesses conducted their trades. Vale and Idris walked past the destitute and to the booths and sketchy sellers. There was one man with scraggly hair with black teeth selling beautifully stolen jewels with a wide smile.

Vale grabbed Idris’s hand and dragged him along behind them. Idris was quite interested in the well-crafted jewels that used to adorn the rich, but Vale didn’t have the money for stolen things. They had the money for a one-way trip out of here and Idris already had enough to adorn himself.

Vale came across Orphee at the end of the lines of booths, near the next grate leading up to the top. Orphee gave Vale a toothy smile and shook their hand, taking one of their rings like Vale wouldn’t notice. Vale held out their hand for it back with a raised brow.

“Never could get it past you,” Orphee said, still with that stupid grin on his face as he placed the ring back on Vale’s finger.

“I taught you everything you know, little rat,” Vale smiled back and Idris squinted at Orphee before a look of realization crossed his face.

“Orphee? Is this where you’ve been hiding out?” Idris smiled, giving him a big hug and Orphee laughed.

“Where all the rats went,” he gave Vale a look before saying. “Your brother is quite the dancer.”

Vale then wanted to punch Orphee for ever looking at their brother but they held themself back. Handing him the money silently, Orphee distracted himself by counting it up, sticking out his tongue a little as he did. Vale didn’t know he could count and the way Orphee was looking at the money Vale guessed that he couldn’t count well.

“Looks like it’s all there,” Orphee stuffed the money into his back pocket before walking up to the huge grate and making sure no one was looking opened it with a special code. “This won’t bring me any trouble, will it, Vale?” Orphee asked, turning to look at them.

“Not if you keep your mouth shut about it,” Vale growled and Orphee nodded and stepped aside. Vale and Idris were free. Or at least close to it.

It took a few tries before Atlas was able to get to her feet without falling over again, and she was sure the Yellows would have a few words with her about staying down when incredibly injured. She wouldn’t tell them about forgetting what was happening around her, that would only make the lecture worse.

Jarin was struggling against one of the bloods carrying two scimitars and Atlas rushed forward, ignoring how her head throbbed and her vision was darkening at the edges. Atlas slid between Jarin and his attacker, sharply using their fist to hit the scimitar out of the Blood’s hand. Atlas panted hard as she fought to stay awake, as she flipped over to get off the ground, she felt herself sway and when she closed her eyes they almost didn’t open again.

“Oh, Lord! Someone needs to get that stubborn brat out of here!” Altair yelled out in frustration, pushing her to the ground again with his body as a red dagger turned to a puddle of sizzling blood in the spot, she had just been struggling to stand up in. He pushed her to the ground for emphasis as he growled an order out, “Stay.”

“Don’t think I could get up again,” Atlas breathed but she knew Altair was already gone, her eyes refused to open, or her vision was now dark, either way, she was on the ground and useless. Atlas felt the ground as best she could, searching for her blade but all she found was a few small rocks, twigs, and what she thought and hoped was a bug.

She was starting to lose feeling in her arm as she slipped further and further from reality, she couldn’t even hear what was happening around her anymore. She grappled with the air trying to get it to stay in her chest and release back into the world, trying to keep the cycle going as her mind lost itself in the darkness. She thought she heard a growl, twigs snapping in half, and the breath of a beast on her face. Atlas gasped one more time, trying to get breath in her lungs, she felt her hands claw at the ground, dirt beneath her fingernails before it relaxed, and she couldn’t fight anymore.

Altair slashed his opponent across the chest, knocking her back onto the ground, he snarled preparing to give the horrendous things before him the final blow before he heard a screech in the sky. And then another and his heart dropped to the ground, the blood looked up at him, herself terrified and she seemed to beg for that sword to go through her chest now. Altair grabbed Jarin, pulling him into the trees and telling him to stay low to the ground.

Altair’s heart thumped against his ribs as he looked at Atlas’s body and he ran over to her, covering her body with his, not daring to take the time to move her now as he saw the hideous beasts circling overhead. The pale, things, blood dried where their skin had been stitched together was visible, one held the face of a bat, its body a mix of the same parts, but the other held the face of a naked wolf, the wings mismatched. And they sniffed the air for the scent of blood, the bat screeched and dove, and Altair’s heart stopped until it caught the Blood he had wounded. For a moment it just carried her back into the sky before it tore into her, eating her flesh and ripping her heart out before dropping her body to the ground.

The Wolf snatched the other Blood from the ground, carrying her off towards wherever it roosted. The monsters were horrendous creations of the Bloods but were slaves to their hunger for blood as well. The Bat screeched again, still sniffing the air with its pig-like nose. Altair stayed still, refusing to move even though his brain knew it was too late for her, the thing could smell her blood in the air. It was all over the ground, it knew more food was near.

The gates opened slightly and a woman in white ran out, a knife in her hand, dripping blood and her wrist slashed open, held up in the air, baiting the behemoth. The bat screeched into the bitter air again and swooped down, instead of devouring its meal for all to see, it carried her off. The woman didn’t scream, she was silent as she was carried off, different from those still on the ground.

“I need some help over here!” Altair shouted, grabbing the attention of the Yellows inside the gate. Altair moved off of Atlas, he looked down at her and realized her chest wasn’t moving, not even slightly. “Oh for the love of…!” He had been protecting a dead body! Yellows surrounded him before he could even voice his mistake and carried the body off.

Jarin pulled Altair off the ground and thanked him.

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“Don’t. She’s dead.”

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