The torchlight of the sword maiden of throes lit the narrow stone stairs leading to the round grated gate. On there was a group of heavily injured group of people. Ciara and the others trotted down the stairs while keeping the torchlight at hand. The injured ones groan as they flinch at the sight of light. The cloak-clad group nursed the injured ones.
She spotted Nolan carrying an ornate armored man. He placed the man near the walls and checked his wounds. The man had lost all his aggressive behavior. There was little light in his eyes that Nolan had to clap his shoulders to keep him awake.
"It's just armor," said Nolan.
Zachariah looked at him, "Armor? Do you think that I care for my Armor?"
He eyed Zachariah. "I am guessing not. Losing your men is part of the job. If you didn't shout so arrogantly and acted so foolishly and maybe they would still be alive."
"You dare lecture?" bellowed Zachariah with shame on his eyes.
"I do." Nolan manhandled the front plate of his armor and threw it on the ground. "If you don't learn from this then you might as well lead more of your people to death."
Zachariah's lips parted slightly. He didn't continue and lowered his head down. He mumbled and a sobbing sound came out of Zachariah. Nolan rose and leaned on the wall, panting. His eyes swiveled towards where Ciara was watching him unobserved.
"Hello?" he called.
"Oh," Ciara jolted back. She looked around and saw that everyone was busy.
Nolan squared his shoulders and fronted Ciara. His tall figure towered Ciara. There was a still expression on his face that made him look so desolate.
"You are not wounded?" she asked, her eyes scanning him from head to toe.
"Battered and weary," Nolan cracked his neck. "But, your appearance gives soothe."
She bumped her first on his chest. "Let me check."
He curled his hand around her fist. "No need, I am used to such brawls."
"He' used to it?" she thought. She eyed him for a while before shaking her head. She followed Nolan who sat down on the stairs of the narrow stone stairs. The sword maiden of throes helped the bleak walkers nurse the injured. Ciara hesitated before sitting beside Nolan.
"Not helping?" said Nolan.
She snorted, "I don't think they want my help. Other than you there are little people out there that want to speak with me."
"I see." He wiped his brows. "It is great that we can have chat. But, I don't think the sewer is a good place to idle."
"True," she nodded. "The blood seeps on the air. Did killing the monsters take this much?" She eyed the corpses that were laid near the entrance of the gates. Her eyes grow misty as fear seeps out.
"Ah yes," said Nolan. "That adventurer has hooked the heads of the ghoul-faced freaks." He pointed at the heads of the monsters strapped around the waist of an adventurer.
Ciara nodded. "Killing them, how?"
Nolan produced the empty vial of phantasmal oil from his bandolier. "Phantasmal oil," he picked up another empty round-bottom flask. It reflected the torchlight as he neared it near Ciara. "And 152 poisons bottled together to create a magical effect."
Ciara eyed the bottles. "Without that, we don't stand a chance," she looked at the wounded. "It took you all what you have to do this, yet here you all are."
Nolan cracked his neck in vain. "It was a natural habitat of the bests. When we killed its partner the beast grew mad and this happened. It was a pyrrhic victory, I confess. But, it didn't mean that we didn't succeed in killing them."
"Yet an army of these things are coming our way," said Ciara. Her eyes narrowed at the wounded again. "Do you think that we stand a chance?"
"We wouldn't if we let these monsters bred further." Nolan was telling her. "They are in their weakest when they cannot prowl, and their weakness is the outside sun, no matter how cloudy it is they will feel the searing sun scorching their skin. These monsters are no sons and daughters of the light above."
She remained silent. Nolan took her left wrist. Not minding the queer feeling of her burnt skin.
"Do you know that there is a core of energy around the navel?" he pointed out.
"Yes," she nodded twice. "I heard that you can spark your weapons with these Runes?"
Nolan nodded. Painfully, he snaps his finger and a fiery rune appeared on the tip of his finger. He tried to stay focused yet he was trembling. Ciara glanced at the flame before she noticed that he was trembling.
"You are exhausting yourself!" she tried to stop him. He smiled faintly.
"Try snapping your finger, feel the inner core around your navel," he explained.
Ciara nodded seeing that he didn't want to argue. She snaps her finger and a rune appeared on her fingers. It was natural and she didn't feel any zap of her energy. Her soul was far stronger and her condition made it easy for her to conjure fire.
"You have a great affinity," Nolan told her. "Are you not scared of the fire?" he asked.
She came out clean. "I am. I really am. But, I've long accepted the fire, it made my life a living hell but what can I do when I need it the most during dark days?"
"I see," Nolan nodded. "You really are strong-hearted, Ciara."
"You can say that yourself," she eyed him. "All of these happen and yet you look calm."
"I do fine," Nolan said. "I learned from you," he thought with longing. "You're one of the reasons that I grew to become strong and robust." He recalled the days he was meek as a sheep. The days he had to strive hard to act strong and calm. One of the main reasons he admired Ciara was because of her strong-willed attitude. Such attitude was what Nolan needed during his days as a rank-and-file soldier facing the front-lines.
"Is that so?" she replied with curiosity. She thought. "He always has this strange look of longing when he talks. I wonder what he is thinking all the time."
Nolan rose from his seat. He eyed the scene with an impassive look. "It was great speaking, but we should take care of the wounded."
Ciara stood and followed Nolan. They started transporting the wounded.
...
A carriage was prepared for the group. Ciara directed the wounded by instructing the sword maidens. Nolan sat cross-legged and tried to regain his senses after creating two runes. Two runes are the limit of a normal bleak walker. He regained his energy and felt his senses return to normal.
"Let's go!" hollered Vie who offered a hand. He accepted her hand and boarded the carriage.
His eyes darted towards Ciara who was talking to the Sword Maidens. She noticed her stare and mouthed. "I hope you get some good rest, Nolan."
He nodded twice. "Good Night," he said. "May you have a good rest as well."
To his surprise, Ciara produced a sweet familiar smile. "Bye!" she turned.
Nolan felt like he was stun to the heart. Vie elbowed him.
"What?" Nolan said.
Vie smiled faintly. "You seem stunned by her, brother!"
"Brother?" he shook his head lightly. "When did I volunteer to become that?"
"Ah yes," she cupped her chin. "The moment you pulled me out of that well." Her face turned gloomy. "Could it be that you do not see me as one?" she placed the back of her hand on her forehead. "The horror!"
Nolan frowned. He rubbed Vie's head. "I never knew that you were such a joker, Vie."
"I am not," she said gloomily. "You know how love stories between walkers are. They never have a good end. Either they are separated forever or they wander the earth completely unaware whose alive or dead."
"Had your heartbreaks, Vie?" Nolan asked.
She cupped her cheeks. "Yes," she said. "I don't know of any walkers that don't have one. Even I regret the things that I cannot go back to. We Walkers have to trek on no matter how bleak it is."
The carriage made a right turn as it moves across the narrow street. Nolan adjusted his posture. "I know. They never really last. Despite that, I know what I am doing. At least I hope that I do."
Vie folded her arms. "There are many beautiful women out there," she was telling him. "Yet you choose someone like her to flirt with?" she raised a smile. "You have a queer taste. Any reason?"
Nolan smiled lightly. "I just do. She caught my eye and that was it. Do you have any reasons to just fall in love with someone?" Nolan said as the moon shined upon the sky.
Vie loosened a laugh. "I like that," she said. "That is a reasoning I can get behind!"
"We could leave life at any moment. That should let us determine our choices. It's all part of life. No need to think about something that you have no control over." Nolan told her.
"Ah yes," she said. "This bleak optimism of yours is part of your charm, brother."
"And you are not as gloomy as I thought you would be," said Nolan with a light smile.
Vie grinned. "Being holed up in this city gave me some bit of joy. I probably lost it after leaving. If we ever leave this City alive after the attack."
"You two are loud," said Castro. "Can't you see that I am trying to sleep here?"
"Sorry," Nolan said. He looked at the front and saw someone dismount of the carriage. Vie peeked. "Looks like that guy who you insulted in the throne hall."
Zachariah spewed curses as he staggers to an alley. Nolan watched and pondered what to do. "I should try to bring him."
"Why?" asked Castro. "You don't have any reason to do that."
Nolan looked at Castro. "Maybe, he needs someone to drink with."
Castro narrowed his eyes and nodded. "You are fine?"
Nolan rose from his seat and vaulted out of the carriage. "I am," Nolan paused. "You should rest, Castro. Take care of him Vie. Don't let him drink whiskey."
"Okay," Vie thumbed Nolan. He sidled towards the alley where Zachariah entered. There were a few stray souls hanging around the alley, lingering near the torchlight. Nolan followed their grumbles and entered this lone tavern with a few customers drinking. Nolan found Zachariah drinking a bottle of whiskey.
"Drinking your guilt away?" Nolan slid on the chair and leaned his back.
"You?" Zachariah looked at Nolan. "Trying to lecture me? Spite me for what happened out there?" he sobbed. "Fuck you, I know what I did wrong. No need to gloat over my dead friends!" He hammered the table.
Nolan didn't change his expression. "No, I am not that depraved to do that. You are wounded, Zachariah. You should rest."
Zachariah sneered. "Only my ornate armor got broken. I just got bruises and I don't need any healing!" he clenched his jaws. "I don't need to be told how I fucked it up! I may have pride as a Captain but I am not that heartless to ignore those I led to their death. I am not a man-child!"
"I see," Nolan folded his arms.
Zachariah bobs his head and eyed him. "You were right. I hate it but you were right. What's the use of such fancy armor if those monsters can rip them apart? I prided myself when I got that armor from the King! We holed up too much inside the castle that we have forgotten that there monsters such as these!" he started sobbing heavily. "Those kids, they followed me because they have confidence in my title as the Imperial Royal Guard of the King. Look at me, I became the Leader of the Guards because of nepotism. I've forgotten that without my father I would have been nothing!" he looked at Nolan. "So if you are trying to gloat about their death or insult me about them then you don't have to! Your words now sting my ears!"
His eyes welled with tears and dropped on the table. The bartender looked at Zachariah and lowered his head in silence. The customers that were drinking kept their heads bowed as well. Nolan leaned his elbows on the table. "I was wrong, forgive me," said Nolan.
Zachariah eyed him. "I don't care."
"I know," Nolan gestured the bartender for a bottle. "So you wouldn't mind if I sit here and drink some? It has been quite a day and you need someone to look after you after you get pissed drunk. It would be a pain to see your sorry self get killed by a moron. Take this as my respect for those brave kids."
Zachariah glances at him. "Do what you want."
Nolan nodded. The bartender carried the bottle and the two drank until dawn.