The journey back from Enir-Ilim had been long, but uneventful. The crisp air of the tundra and the sight of the mountains cutting into the sky had all felt the same.
The same as always.
He had returned home expecting warmth, laughter, the scent of meat roasting over fire pits.
But instead, he was met with a long and deathly silence.
He had slowed his horse to a trot, then to a stop, his heart drumming a uneasily. Before he had even arrived he sensed something was amiss. The village stood before him and it was untouched by flame or ruin. The houses stood firm, their doors open, lanterns still lit. Snow had piled on rooftops. His clansmen and warriors were there.
But they did not move.
They stood frozen in place with their backs rigid and their weapons gripped tight.
Chael had called out to them yet no one answered.
He had dismounted, his boots crunching against the snow as he ran to them. He had shook their shoulders, grabbed their hands and looked into faces.
And saw nothing.
Their eyes were hollow. Their skin pale as death. Their bodies husks, almost as if whatever life had once burned inside them had been snuffed out.
He had gripped the shoulders of one his clansmen, shaking him hard. "Wake up. Wake up, damn you-!"
The man's body however did not move. His eyes stared at the empty sky above and body collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.
Panic clawed at his throat. Chael turned and reached for another warrior. The moment he touched them, they fell.
Before he even had time to process everything, however the whistling sound of an arrow, the hiss of blades being unsheathed and the stampede of humans reached his ears.
****
Chael gasped as he was jerked forward, pain slicing through his broken body. The memory faded into the freezing night and the present swallowed him whole again. The taste of iron in his mouth, the sound of his own ragged breathing, the laughter of the mercenaries around him.
Echidna walked ahead with her boots crunching in the snow, her long black cape trailing behind her. She didn't even glance back at him.
They weren't even wary of him anymore.
Chael clenched his teeth as his shattered hand twitched against the snow when a shadow loomed over him.
"Damn shame, huh? Whole village. Just hollowed out like that?" Echidna mused.
Chael turned his head, forcing his bleary eyes to meet hers.
She then raised her musket. "No hard feelings. It'd be a pain in the ass if you locate our hide out."
"You—"
She cut him off with a swift strike to the temple with her musket and the last thing he saw was the smirk on her lips before darkness swallowed him whole.
****
Chael stirred.
Pain was the first thing that greeted him, gnawing at his body like a rabid beast. His right arm was broken and uselessly sat by his side. His fingers were all broken and mangled at ugly angles. His shoulder throbbed where the bullet had torn through, the wound wrapped in crude bandages.
The scent of rusted metal and damp stone filled his nose.
He sat up slowly, feeling the heavy weight of iron chains digging into his wrists and ankles. A metal cage surrounded him, the bars thick and bolted into the rocky ground. Beyond them firelight flickered against stone walls and illuminated the underground hideout of the Mongrel's Vow.
Mercenaries littered the cavern. Some were sharpening blades, the metallic shhht of whetstones scraping steel filling the air. Others drank greedily from stolen wine barrels, laughter and crude jokes bouncing off the walls. The scent of roasted meat mixed with the stench of unwashed bodies.
Chael exhaled through clenched teeth. His fingers twitched and a fresh surge of agony raced up his arm. He bit back a snarl.
He stared at his sword hand. He had always been confident in his abilities as a fighter, but now who knew how long it'd take for his arm to heal before he could pick up another weapon. Chael gritted his teeth.
Not that it mattered anymore, anyway.
Carefully, he ripped the bottom of his tattered tunic with his teeth and teared it up into strips. Each movement sent lightning bolts of pain up his arm, but he forced himself to keep going. He wrapped the makeshift bandages around his mangled fingers, pulling them tight to keep the shattered bones in place.
He worked in silence with his jaw clenched and his forehead damp with sweat when he heard a distinct voice cut through the noise.
"Storm's rolling in faster than expected," said a deep, gravelly voice. It was a bastard known as Garren - the one who had broken his arm and mangled his hand. Chael teared him apart with his gaze as he continued talking, "We'll need to hole up here for another night or two."
Chael's eyes flicked at this information.
Echidna stood near a fire pit, arms crossed with her black cape draped over one shoulder. Garren had a giant mug of ale in one hand, his other scratching at his thick beard.
"A Black Storm, no less," Garren grumbled. "Hate those damn things. Wind howls like a thousand demons, makes the horses skittish."
"We'll manage," Echidna said lazily, taking a drag from her pipe. Smoke curled around her lips as she exhaled. "It just means we'll be stuck in this shithole a little longer."
Chael closed his eyes briefly. A Black Storm.
A cursed blizzard that tore through the northern wilds of Mirelia, and drowned everything in ice and wind. It was impossibly difficult to survive out in the open once it hit and it would last at least a night or two.
The sound of boots approached his cage.
Chael opened his eyes as Echidna stopped in front of him with a pipe still between her fingers.
She studied him for a moment with her gaze trailing over his makeshift bandages, his stiff posture, his bloodied face. Then she smirked. "You look like shit."
Chael didn't respond.
Echidna leaned against the bars. "You don't talk much, huh? Not as fun when you're not spitting insults."
Still, he said nothing.
She sighed. "Well, whatever. You'll be alive long enough to entertain me, at least."
Chael slowly turned his head, his blue eyes cold as steel.
"You should kill me while you still have the chance," he said in his low, raspy voice.
Echidna raised a brow. Then she grinned.
"Or what?" she said with amusement dripping from her tone. "The Ashwara Clan is no longer. What could you possibly do? You're just a lost dog without a home now."
Chael's jaw clenched. He knew what she was trying to do. Chip away at him. Mock him and break him from the inside out.
He refused to give her the satisfaction and instead, he straightened. Despite his wounds, the blood staining his skin and the chains weighing him down.
His gaze burned as he met hers.
"As long as I'm here," he said, voice like a blade scraping against stone, "Ashwara exists."
Echidna's smirk faltered for half a second.
"Tch. Dramatic little shit."
The hideout was alive with drunken chaos.
Laughter, the clatter of mugs, and the sharp scrape of steel against whetstones filled the underground cavern. The Mongrel's Vow drank like pigs, eating up the spoils of their raids, their voices loud and slurred. The air stank of alcohol, sweat, and burnt meat.
Chael sat in his cage, silent, watching. His fingers twitched against the iron floor, sending a dull throb of pain up his ruined hand. He ignored it. He was used to pain.
Then-
CRASH!
A glass bottle shattered against a man's skull.