Leon emerged into a deserted alleyway, the damp walls on either side streaked with grime and moss. The city was only beginning to stir.
Faint morning light spilled into the narrow space, and beyond the alley's mouth, the muffled sounds of hooves and distant voices drifted in the cool air.
He scanned his surroundings carefully, his eyes darting to every shadow and crevice before crouching and motioning for Elys to climb out of the tunnel behind him. She hesitated a moment before pulling herself up.
The chill hit her immediately, and she shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. Her wide, wary eyes kept flicking toward the alley's opening, where sunlight was just beginning to touch the edge of a marketplace that was slowly coming to life.
Leon crouched behind a stack of weathered crates, gesturing for Elys to join him. She obeyed silently, her movements still tense. The tension hadn't left her face since they'd fled, and Leon couldn't blame her. It wasn't every day you had knights scouring an entire city for you.
The hum of the waking city grew louder. Vendors began setting up their stalls, their voices sharp as they haggled over prime spots. Wheels creaked as carts rolled into place, laden with goods, and the murmur of the crowd started to rise. It was far from bustling, but the market was alive enough to make Leon nervous.
Elys shifted beside him. "Where do we go now?" she whispered, barely loud enough to hear. "There have to be knights in the whole city looking for us."
Leon leaned back against the crates, his mind racing. She was right. Every main street and marketplace would have patrols, their search intensifying with every hour. Staying here wasn't an option—so where could they go?
"We need to disappear," he murmured, his eyes narrowing as he considered their options. "Somewhere they wouldn't think to look."
Elys frowned, her lips pressed tight. "Do you have somewhere in mind?"
Leon hesitated. His mind darted back to a snatch of conversation he'd overheard during their scramble through the marketplace last week. A pair of locals had been gossiping about an abandoned tannery near the eastern edge of the city. "Cursed," one of them had called it. Superstition had likely kept it empty for years—and that kind of place might just give them a chance.
"There's an old tannery in the East," Leon said finally, his voice low. "The locals say it's cursed. If no one goes near it, it might be our best shot."
Elys glanced at him. "If it's so abandoned… wouldn't the knights check there too?"
"Maybe," Leon admitted, adjusting the strap of his rifle. "But it's a big city, and they'd have to search everything first. If it's as shunned as they say, it might not even make their list."
She hesitated, her gaze flicking toward the market again. "It's better than staying here, I guess."
"Definitely," Leon replied, glancing out from behind the crates. The crowd was growing thicker by the minute, merchants unloading goods while early customers began their haggling. The tannery wasn't far, but getting there would mean slipping through a city on high alert.
"We'll stick to the edges of the crowd," Leon said, his tone firm. "Stay close. If anything happens—"
The two of them slipped from the alley, staying low and keeping to the shadows of tall, uneven buildings.
Leon's heart pounded as he scanned the crowd for any glimpse of gleaming armor. Every knight they avoided felt like a victory—but also a closer call.
The further east they moved, the more the city's noise and bustle began to fade. The buildings around them grew older, their walls cracked and patched with mismatched stone. The streets narrowed, and the air took on a sour tang that lingered at the back of the throat.
Finally, the tannery loomed into view. Its warped wooden frame was hulking but sagging, its roof bowing in places as though threatening to collapse under its own weight.
Vines crawled up its sides, and most of the windows were boarded up or shattered. A rusted metal sign dangled crookedly above the entrance, its faded letters nearly illegible. Even from a distance, the building exuded abandonment.
Elys stopped, staring at the structure uneasily. "It looks… cursed."
"That's the point," Leon muttered, scanning their surroundings. The street was eerily quiet, and even stray animals seemed to give the place a wide berth. He gestured for her to follow. "Let's go."
The two of them slipped through a gap in the warped door, stepping into the tannery's dim, cavernous interior. The stale air was thick with mildew and the faint, lingering scent of old leather. Broken beams and debris littered the floor, crunching faintly under Leon's boots as he scanned the space.
"There," he said, motioning to a corner near the far wall. He dropped his pack and nudged some debris aside, clearing a small area. "We'll rest here and figure out our next move."
Elys wrapped her cloak tighter around herself, her gaze darting to the darkened doorways leading to smaller rooms. "Do you think they'll come here?"
"Not if we're careful," Leon replied. "I'll take the first watch. Try to get some rest."
Hours dragged on as Leon kept watch near the entrance, his rifle resting across his knees.
By nightfall, the tannery was plunged into shadow, the faint glow of moonlight spilling through cracks in the walls. Elys had finally drifted off in the corner, her breathing steady and soft. Leon remained awake.
Then, a sound. A faint rustle outside the tannery door.
Leon tensed immediately, his hand tightening on the rifle. Rising silently to his feet, he moved toward the gap in the door, stepping out into the moonlit street.
She was there. Arial, standing just beyond the tannery's perimeter, her hood drawn and her arms crossed. The faint glint of her blade caught the light as she shifted slightly, her piercing gaze locked on him.
"Are you ready then?" she asked, slowly pulling out a piece of paper with something scribbled on it. With a deliberate motion, she tossed it toward him.