Act I: Kingdom of Nobodies
Chapter V: Run While You Can
The ride south was long, but not enough to prepare me for the smell.
By the time we reached the valley, the Sun had begun to dip behind the mountains, casting stretched shadows across the long since broken farmlands. Smoke drifted upward from collapsed huts and charred trees, lingering even in the breeze. Whatever battle had taken place here had ended days ago - yet the land still screamed in agony.
Kaito rode ahead of us, his horse kicking up dust. The soldiers behind him followed in tight formation, expressions sharpened by a mix of pride and exhaustion. Their armor bore streaks of warm blood as they cut at any bodies that may still contain life.
All around me, soldiers gossiped about the legitimacy I held. I was small, only twelve, and also foreign. It was obvious why they would be confused - their expressions not caring to hide their distaste. Their disappointment.
"What's a kid supposed to do?" one muttered, loud enough for half the unit to hear.
Another laughed under his breath in response. "The Governor sent us a child? Are we being punished?"
"Must be the prodigy from across the sea," a third said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
I ignored them. Their opinions weren't among my concerns. But Hitomi heard every word; I could tell by the slight twitches of her jaw and the subtle narrowing of her eyes.
She didn't defend me - nor did she need to. Her silence was enough to make at least a few of the men look away.
Kaito, of course, reveled in their reactions.
He slowed his horse until he was riding beside me, wearing that same smug, tight-lipped, inhuman smile from earlier.
"You see, good Anderfell," he said, "my men have fought for weeks. They lost comrades. They starved. They bled. And then they're told a boy" - he took a moment to gesture toward me with mock carelessness - "is being sent from Velgrin to... what was the word the council used? Ahh, yes. Assist."
"I'm not here as replacement for your soldiers," I said.
"Good," he replied. "Because you couldn't."
Hitomi let out a short breathe that was almost a laugh. It wasn't out of amusement - it was disbelief.
Kaito noticed and snapped his gaze toward her. "Do you have something to say, Hitomi?" The way he said her name was laced with venom.
"Yes," she answered. "But none of it that is worth wasting breath on."
A few soldiers snickered slightly. It was clear Kaito didn't appreciate humor at his expense. His jaw clenched, but he rode on ahead without another word.
We followed the bend in the road where the fields grew darker inside the valley. The terrain was open like a gash with uprooted fences, splintered houses, and traces of steel. The battle was less of a fight and more so an erasure.
Dozens of rotting, motionless bodies lay across the dirt. Adults. Teens. Some younger than I was. Many were covered in makeshift armbands or scraps of patterned cloth - the signs of the rebellion Kaito hated so much. A few soldiers smirked at their work.
"Stupid kids," one said. "Thought they could overthrow the government with sticks and fire that worshipped the Sun."
"Got what they deserved," another added.
I felt my hands tighten around the reins as anger flooded through me.
Hitomi's voice cut through the murmurs. "Enough." Just like everything else she did, it wasn't loud. And it didn't have to be as the soldiers suited instantly.
I urged my horse forward, dismounting near the remnants of what used to be a small gathering hall. Its roof had collapsed inward, allowing smoke to curl away from still-glowing coals. A wooden prayer tablet lay shattered near the steps.
It read, "Praise the Sun in all it's glory. May it grant us one of its five great blessings. Pray that it gives us flame enough to warm our homes. Pray that it gives us strength enough to protect our families. Pray that it gives us the answers we search for in this hellish world. Pray that it gives us-" The rest was shattered apart, leaving their dreams a lost part of history.
War clung to everything here. There was no glory. There was no honor. Just the sour residue of loss.
Kaito dismounted as well, his boots crunching over scattered debris. "You wanted to see the aftermath," he said. "So see it. My men have done what has needed to happen."
'Needed.'
The word echoed in my head like a stone dropped into a bottomless well.
"Were they all soldiers? Did they all fight back?" I asked quietly.
"Every rebel is a threat," Kaito replied. "Age is irrelevant - even more so if they praise the Sun."
Hitomi's gaze flicked toward him - sharp and cold. "These were children."
Kaito shrugged in return. "Children with weapons."
"Children," she repeated, voice flat.
He ignored her completely.
I stepped past them, scanning the bodies. Many wore clothing patched far too many times, sleeves torn from work even more so than combat. Some didn't even have shoes. They hadn't been warriors - only scared and desperate while trying to survive in a world that refused to bend for them.
Kaito walked off with another shrug, the tone of his voice too light for me not to clench my fists. It was too casual - as if he had already explained the reason behind every body at our feet. It was a justification spoken to tidy up the cruelties he brought to this world.
Hitomi didn't say anything more as she watched him with that same unreadable expression she always wore around the soldiers. It was half-bored and half-done with everyone around her.
It was clear there was nothing more I could add. There was nothing worth saying to a man who looked at the remains of children and saw inconvenience rather than tragedy.
We stepped deeper into the burned-out village. Smoke clung low along the ground, coiling around our ankles as if it mourned the dead. The roofs of the clay houses were collapsed inward, still hissing from a fire. Some rebels lay dead under where the ceiling had fallen - young, old, men, women - it didn't matter as their faces were burned to char, hands still curled around their weapons.
They had fought for something they cared for. Although, I couldn't decide whether that was noble or foolish.
The question began to gnaw at me. I wasn't sure whether I admired them for having a cause at all... or if I pitied them for choosing one that led to their deaths. Though it wasn't as though I could comment much when it came to disapproved praise of the Sun...
Hitomi stood beside me, silent with her arms folded loosely over her chest, Her gaze drifted across the bodies. It wasn't cold, but filled with a distant kind of patience - one she must have learned long ago so as to not let scenes such as this pierce her heart too deeply.
"They were brave," she said, as though she knew what I was thinking.
I looked at her a moment, before turning back towards the floor. "You think so?"
"Bravery doesn't always look smart," she murmured. "But dying for what you believe in... most people can't even live for that."
She didn't smile. She didn't frown. She just observed - me, the corpses, the burning buildings, and the blood drenched spears resting in the dirt. I envied how steady she seemed as it felt as though my stomach would give out.
Behind us, the soldiers muttered again.
"Tch. Look at him, acting like he feels anything," they whispered, not as quietly as they thought.
"Twelve years old and pretending he's some wise judge of the world." they spat words meant to hurt.
"Should've stayed home if he can't stomach what happens in war." and yet I didn't feel a thing.
"I can hear you, bastards," I said, still looking down at the fallen rebels. The soldiers stiffened behind me, still not offering an apology. One stepped forward - tall with a scar across his cheek. He had been glaring at me since we set out.
"You think this is bad?" he asked. "You think this is cruel?"
Hitomi shifted closer to me. Not necessarily protectively - just enough to let me know she was paying attention.
The man jabbed a thumb toward the ruins ahead. "You haven't seen real cruelty. Not yet."
"And you have?" I answered softly.
He scoffed. "More than you. Probably more than you ever will."
"Perhaps," I returned. "But even if that's true, it didn't seem to change you for the better." There were audible laughs at that. Most definitely at the expense of the soldier who had been challenging me.
His jaw clenched, but he didn't say anything more.
Hitomi leaned slightly toward me and whispered, "I get that you're defending yourself, but you really shouldn't provoke them, Ambrose."
"I know." But we both knew that wouldn't stop me.
We continued down the narrow path between corpses and fallen beams. Every footstep stirred dust and ash, turning the air a tone of silver that was surprisingly gentle, like snow in the wrong season.
But there was no gentleness here. Only the ghosts of a fight that had ended long before we arrived.
The farther we walked, the heavier the air grew. The dust thickened into a low haze, smoke still held against the broken roofs, the scent of scorched grain drifting in sickly waves. The silence wasn't peaceful; instead it was the kind that pressed against your ears, as if expecting something that was waiting to be found.
Hitomi moved at my side with her still quiet stride, hands resting loosely near her sword. The soldiers trailed behind us in a tense, uneven cluster, muttering among themselves whenever they thought I wasn't listening. Hitomi started to shoot them glares as they continued again and again.
I simply kept walking. If I let the soldiers' resentment bother me, I wouldn't survive two days as king.
The first sign of life came unexpectedly - a ragged cough behind a shattered cart. Hitomi stopped so quickly multiple soldiers behind us nearly collided into her. She raised two fingers, signaling for caution.
"We're not alone," she murmured.
I stepped forward cautiously, and a figure bolted from behind the debris. It was a teenage rebel with ash-streaked hair and half-burned wrappings around his arms. He didn't attack - only running out of pure instinct.
Soldiers surged after him.
"Stop," Hitomi snapped.
They froze mid-step, the sheer finality in her voice holding them captive.
The boy disappeared into the maze of collapsed homes, stumbling over rubble.
"He's escaping," a soldier protested.
"And?" Hitomi replied. "He's starving and can barely stand. If you're afraid of someone like that, resign now."
The man flushed, putting his sword away before being interrupted.
"Do not listen to a word she says," Kaito commanded calmly. "Fire."
Arrows flew overhead, all concentrated into a single point. A loud thud hit the floor a moment later, everything around us becoming still.
"Excellent." Kaito praised as he continued forward.
I froze, my stomach churning at the thought of arrows cuttings through a boy not much older than I was. Hitomi's hand tightened on the early soldier's arm. Her breathe was low for a moment, almost shaken before regaining its composure a moment later.
I swallowed, forcing my throat to clear. "Hitomi..." my voice was barely audible. "He was just a kid. He's-"
"Ambrose, the orders came from him, not us," she said evenly. "there was nothing we could do." Then, almost as if an afterthought, she added, "But if he is ever distracted, I decide who lives."
Her words struck me. She had the confidence, the skill, and the judgement to protect others even when it meant defying a direct order. I hadn't realized until now how much I had begun to rely on her, not just for safety, but as a moral anchor in this place that seemed to have nothing.
Kaito pushes past us, scanning the streets with the detached precision of a man accustomed to killing without a second thought. "Sweep the area once more. Leave none alive," he ordered. His tone made it clear questioning commands was not an option
The soldiers moved forward, weapons raised. I flinched with every step they took. Hitomi's hand pressed against mine briefly, steadying me without any words. It was only then that I realized I had been shaking - not from fear, but from anger and horror at the scale of cruelty I was witnessing.
"Ambrose," Hitomi murmured, "we'll try to keep as many alive as we can, so stay close and don't let Kaito see your hesitation."
I nodded, trying to force myself to breathe normally. My mind spun with everything I had seen so far: the rubble, the smoke, the bodies of children - and worst of all - the cold and calculating look in Kaito's eyes that saw the chaos as nothing more than an annoyance.
Soon it wasn't just one survivor. We found three rebels beneath a fallen archway - two unconscious, one awake and barely breathing. They couldn't even raise their heads to look at us, much less weapons.
I instinctively wanted to reach for them, but Hitomi's grip on my arm reminded me once more of our position.
Kaito didn't grant them a hint of mercy, giving the sign for his men to stab through their hearts, ending their lives in the blink of an eye.
I felt sick watching it all. Every order Kaito gave seemed to create ripples of suffering, every movement of his soldiers multiplying it. And yet, he didn't hesitate. He was methodical, precise, and completely indifferent to everything in front of him.
We moved deeper into the wreckage, past walls that had been shattered and houses that were still set ablaze. I could see the desperation in the eyes of all the survivors. They were young adults, teenagers, and even children who clung onto whatever hope remained. I wanted to stop this violence, and yet I couldn't. Not yet. I had to watch and survive, witnessing the full scale of what stood in front of me so that in the future I could make the difference.
Hitomi remained beside me the entire time, silent but vigilant. Occasionally, she would attempt to whisper instructions to the soldiers that contrasted with Kaito's orders, and everytime she would be denied. Her loyalty to what was right was absolute and unwavering - letting me know that I could trust her to make the correct call even when I could not.
As we pressed forward, we reached the head of this treacherous valley that had brought my senses so much suffering. Smoke trailed behind us, mixing with the coppery tang of blood and scent of flames. The air vibrated with tension; every footstep carrying the weight of what had already been lost. I could hear the distant clamor of horns and shouting - the clash of metal on metal. The survivors we had passed along the way had luckily only totaled up to a handful, although their final moments were ones of fear.
"No..." My words momentarily caught in my throat.
An open field stretched in front of us, holding something that terrified me more than anything - the reason I was here.
Hundreds of people stood in front of us, holding whatever weapons they still had in their possession. They formed a line, the youngest at the back so they could run if necessary, not that they would be able to escape.
"I trust you understand your roles, men." Kaito spoke to his fleet, preparing to send them off to end this 'rebellion'.
A cry of war rang out for miles as they charged, swinging their swords the chests of the people who stood against them. It was slaughter - desperation against trained cruelty.
I wanted to turn away, to look for another path, but something rooted me in place. This was the moment I had to stand witness to. Because if I could do anything - anything at all - it would be now.
Kaito strode forward once more, still a figure of absolute calm authority amidst this chaos. He gave orders the same way as before, every command executed with brutal efficiency. Soldiers advanced, cutting down anyone who faltered, their movements synchronized as though they were part of a single machine.
Hitomi moved in my shadow, her eyes scanning every angle, every threat, "Stay close. Remember that your safety is my priority, not theirs." she murmured. Her tone was still casual, almost as indifferent as Kaito's, but I knew better. Her presence was a shield. Although I had yet to witness so, it was clear her skills were unmatched. I had no doubt she could protect me, yet that wasn't what I needed now.
I could feel my stomach tightening with each life that ended. The truth was, all of them would die tonight, and there was not a thing I could do to stop it.
Then we heard it. A small, shaking breath. A choked sob. Coming from the corpse of a woman.
My feet moved before my mind did.
"Ambrose-" Hitomi whispered, not stopping me as she followed closely behind.
I turned over the body, covered with blood that poured from her throat and flies that ate at her eyes.
Beneath her was a boy.
A child.
Four years old - same as Aurelia.
Dirt and blood were smeared across his cheeks, drying in streaks like cracked paint - tears carving lines down his face.
But what hit me the hardest wasn't his appearance. It was the way he clung to the limp arm of the woman covered in death itself.
His mother.
He held her hand with both of his, tiny fingers shaking with effort, as if believing hard enough could pull her back into this world.
He didn't look at me at first, his only thoughts being the words he whispered. "Mama... mama, wake up... it's not time to sleep..."
My chest ached - physically - as though something had reached inside my ribs and was squeezing my heart.
A soldier took a step towards him. "Protocol says-"
"No." My voice came out sharp enough to cut.
The man froze.
Hitomi stepped beside me, blocking any others from seeing the child.
He lifted his head. His eyes were huge, dark, and wet. They were eyes that should have been watching his mom cook dinner, or rivers, or sunlight through a window. Not this.
Never this.
"Mama," he whispered again, this time to me, begging me to fix her.
There was nothing I could do. And that truth felt like a blade twisting into my gut.
Slow, deliberately, I reached under my clock and drew out the Anderfell mask - the blue and gold human like Moon in all its glory. Cold, sharp, and shaped for my face.
It was a symbol of something I wasn't sure I wanted to be a part of any longer.
The boy blinked at it, and then at me, and then at it again. He didn't understand what I wanted of him - how could he. However, something in him recognized it as important.
"Take it," I whispered.
When he didn't reach for it, I gently set it in his hands, his fingers curling around it instinctively.
Behind us, the soldier muttered, "What are you doing? We need to-"
I didn't turn, didn't breathe.
I let the blessing I had been gifted seethe through my body.
Then everything grew quite - all under my control.
I touched the soldier's shoulder lightly, every nerve in my body flaring up. "You didn't see him," I demanded. "There was no child here. Nothing to report." My blessing carried the words into the fabric of his memory. His eyes fluttered before clearing completely.
"Sir? Is the mission complete?" he asked as he made his way towards Kaito, across the field.
Hitomi didn't react. Her eyes told me she knew she could never speak of this.
I knelt beside the boy. "You can't stay here," I whispered as tenderly as I could muster. "You have to run. Far away. Do you hear me?"
He stared at me, and then at the mask, and then at me. His lips trembled, but his head nodded.
I took another deep breathe, letting the blessing become my voice just one more time.
"Run while you can."
His legs stood on their own, shaking but moving forward.
One step.
Two.
Three.
Then he turned and ran, the mask clutched tight against his chest, stumbling through ash and smoke.
Hitomi exhaled slowly, not in disapproval nor agreement. Merely understanding.
No words needed to passed between us as we watched the small silhouette disappear into the haze.
And then he was gone, truly gone, swallowed up by the distance and dust and fate-
I finally turned away and headed the opposite direction. My boots left prints beside the fading marks of the battle that had just ended around me.
And for the first time, I wondered whether I had truly just saved a life... or changed the course of something far larger than any of us could see.