Soul Cast: Chapter 1 , a short story by J.Morgan. Date added: 2012-08-12. Times viewed: 398.
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- Intro: Storms ravage the world and the people of Iskar are barely surviving. It is up to a group of Casters, people who are persecuted for their powers and connection to the storms, to find out why and how to stop it all. But what they find is more wondrous and more complicated than they expect.
Just one step in through the doors and already people were looking at him. Wondering if he was going to be staying. If he was trouble. Times were hard and food was scarce, even one extra mouth to feed sometimes meant others having to go without. For a stranger like him, it was nearly impossible to find anyone willing to share. But his stomach didn’t concern him at the moment, all he needed was a place to sleep. And just like everywhere else, the only place was a common house. Though at least this one wasn’t as bad off as the ones he’d seen before. Those were barely buildings, more like shelters for those taking refuge from the Sil Storms and from the weather.
“Can I help you?”
Dakken leaned his elbow on the counter and sat on the wooden stool. He stared at the Keeper. “I’m just coming in for the night. If you have room. I’ll be leaving in the morning.”
The man took Dakken's appreance in and nodded towards the far wall. Dakken thanked him and walked across the room, around blankets and bags, people sitting on the floor with their children. The worn and rabbled townsfolk barely stirred, except to pull back from him as if diseased. Some just watched him and went about their business, sweeping and washing the floors. Mothers sat brushing their daughters’ hair.
It was the end of the day, the men were still outside, finishing up working in the fields or woodshops. With no metal to work, the old ways were coming back. The ways workmanship that took an entire lifetime to master. Some skills were forgotten and had to be relearned, but it would still take years, perhaps generations to rebuild all of the cities and towns that had once dotted the Iskarian prairies and valleys. To return to some semblance of normal daily life
“What’s your name mister?”
Dakken eyed the boy, obviously a good many years shy of manhood. His face was covered in dirt and his clothes a half inch too small for his growing body. “My name is Dakken. But my friends call me Dak.”
The boy looked around. “I don’t see anyone else. Or are they dead?”
Dakken sat down and leaned his back against the wall, sighing. It wasn’t an uncommon thing to speak of the death, since it was such an everyday occurance. “They’re not dead. I don’t really have any friends. Though if I did, they would call me Dak. I’m too grumpy it seems.”
“You don’t seem grumpy to me,” the boy said.
He scratched his chin and neck. The muginess of the common house was making him twitchy. “Just wait, my ornery side will come out eventually.”
The boy seemed dubious and glanced behind him. “That’s my mother over there, my father works the fields most of the day. My sister was taken by the last Sil Storm.”
Dakken stared at him. It was an odd thing to say in a polite conversation, and the way he said it. Not the way a brother would act, not after the loss of a sibling. But who was he to judge others? He’d seen death so often, it barely touched him anymore. “I’m sorry to hear that,” Dakken said unlashing his boots. “You should go back to your mother. She’s glaring at me as though I’m going to steal you away.”
The boy looked as though he were about to shrug. A carefree boy this was, Daken decided. Just a plain young man, oblivious to the world and it’s problems. “She’s always worrying about me, but father says I can work the fields soon. Then she won’t have to worry anymore.” He stood just a bit taller while he spoke.
Quietly he said, “That’s when she’ll worry more.” He set his boots beside him and tilted his head looking up at the boy. “Go on. You’re bothering an old man.”
The boy smiled and turned to walk away when he stopped. “My name is Adam by the way. It was nice to meet you Dak.”
Dakken had already leaned his head back and closed his eyes, but he smiled, hearing Adam’s footsteps get further away. Despite the crying baby not far from him or the thunder of the children trying to play, despite the fact they were surrounded by mothers, Dakken was able to rest easy. All the tension left his body, while he focused on his breathing. Rest was important to the body, it helped replenish strength and focus. As the years grew long, rest was becoming harder to find. But this town was a blessing to him, he’d been traveling for weeks without shelter or anything but a rock for a pillow. Not that there seemed to be one here, just a hard wooden floor. But just being around others helped make him feel human again. In the wilds, he was losing himself. Losing his direction. Here among children and families, he could remember.
A hard kick stirred him from what would have been sleep if left alone much longer. He looked up to see a large man, dirty and smelling of sweat so thick it turned his stomach. “This is my spot.”
Dakken looked around, which was hard to do since the man cut off half the view of the room. “I was told this space was free. If you have a problem, take it up with the Keeper.”
“Ian leave the man be.”
Ian, turned his head to peer coldly at the man who had spoken. “Stay out of it. I ain’t going to put up with no stranger coming in here and taking our space, and our food.”
Dakken stood using the wall, his body protesting before it had time to rest properly. Then he yawned, picking up his boots. “I don’t want trouble. I’ll go over there, if you don’t mind.”
He took a few steps and ran into a big hand. “Actually I do have a problem. How about you leave.”
Dakken grabbed Ian’s wrist and spun too fast for him to react. With sounds of shock surrounding him, he held Ian’s arm out straight to the side and twisted so that the large man couldn’t move without causing him pain. “I get it.” Dakken said in a sneer. “You’re tired and stinky. But I am not going to sleep on the hard ground tonight because of you. I could break this arm with just a little pressure.” That wasn'y entirely true, it would take more than pressure, but to add to his farce he lifted just slightly making Ian cry out. Dakken glared at his friends who were staring, hesitating. Unsure if they should help him. “All I want is some time to rest. If you leave me in peace, I will do the same for you.”
“Alright,” Ian grunted and Dakken lifted again just slightly. “Alright!” Dakken let go and turned, his boots still in his other hand. Though he didn’t stop focusing on the men behind him with his senses, at least for a few steps.
Passing by Adam, who was standing and staring at the commotion, he shrugged. “I told you I was grumpy.” Near a pile of dirty laundry he found a spot that was open and settled in once again, but this time he didn’t let himself relax too much yet. He waited, and listened as the rest of the men came in. Of course there was probably another few Common Houses through the town, but even so this one was filling up quickly. The room became so hot it was stifling. Then he overheard the reason.
A Sil Storm was coming.
“So soon? The last one was just a few nights ago,” one of the women said.
“Well I saw it myself, coming up from the west.”
“How soon will it get here?” Voices were asking in a jumble. Dakken kept listening, while the roar grew louder until it was hard to hear anything at all.
“Everyone, calm down. The Sil Storm will be here soon. It’s just better for us all to settle in for the night, makes sure the windows and doors are secure, after we do a head count.” The Keeper had finally shown himself. His words did seem to calm a few.
“Where’s my husband?” A woman asked making Dakken open one eye. She was clutching her hands at her chest, wringing them. Adam was standing beside her.
“He was nearly finished. He said he’d be coming soon Alise, don’t worry. If he’s too late he can always go to Charter House.”
She started crying, almost as though she’d been holding it in all this time. A woman on the brink of madness from grief and hardships. “No. He promised he wouldn’t do this. He swore it.” Adam tried to console his mother, but she was hysterical.
Trying to push the sound of her weeping out of his mind Dakken pulled out a cloth from his pouch. Inside was a folded piece of paper. The worn edges of the folded note were a testament to how many times he’d read it. His fingers rubbed across the paper gently, his eyes taking in every detail. The discoloring in one corner and the faded color of the picture his daughter had drawn, barely showing. He could still see her little face. It was almost as if he could turn his head and see her there. Smiling at him she held up the picture of a tall mountain, with a star at the top. “See daddy. Isn’t it pretty?” He blinked back the moisture. It wasn’t tears, he didn’t have any more to cry. But still his vision blurred for a second. Adam’s mother and her cries of fear and anger pushed its way into his thoughts. He stared at the note again.
Inside of that folded paper was the last words his wife had written to him. The most important words. The ones that seared into his heart the moment he read them. Because he knew in that moment that she was gone. Her message was simple, but meant for him. Though why she would choose to write it on their daughter’s artwork, still bothered him. Did she want him to have something of both of them? Or did it mean something else and he just couldn’t figure it out. It would be just like Esilia to do that. To put a meaning within something as mundane as what sort of paper she used. But he was never a clever man. Puzzles almost always eluded him. Thirteen years and he couldn’t get it out of his head that there was something he was missing.
His eyes traveled up from the paper and across the room to Adam who was staring at the door. The resolute set of his brow was a clear enough sign of what the boy was thinking. He put the paper away and moved his boots in front of him then slipped them on, tightening each lace carefully. There was no use in rushing, though he was also watching the boy to make sure he didn’t bolt. Just as he was standing up, three more men walked in through the doors. The one in the lead smiled as the hysterical woman threw her arms around him. Dakken let himself fall back against the wall. His eyes turned from the display of affection, once again he had to blink the moisture away. He couldn’t help thinking how much easier it was to be in the wilds. There were no reminders among the trees and animals.
“The Sil Storm will be here soon,” Adam’s father stated loud enough for all to hear. Which caused a low rumble that was just an echo of the terror that had come before.
Children found their parents, who huddled on the floor. Fear became so thick and subdued that it was noxious, the silence hung heavy over the heads of every person surrounding him. He took it all in, wondering at the garden of withering souls, battered by the winds and the unasked question of why. Why did they have to suffer so? Some people tried to sing, songs that begged Vanyu to protect them, but faith was as easily lost as it was found these days.
The howling started soon after, and built until it shook the building. It screamed against the windows and pounded on the roof. Normally he would find a cavern, or even squeeze himself into a badger hole to shelter from a Sil Storm. Though in the wilds they were rare. Storms seemed to prefer places where many people collected themselves. Towns, cities. The bigger the more Sil Storms came. Even so, they only came a few times a year. It had been that way since the beginning. Ten years ago, when the first Sil Storm descended on the largest city of Alamut.
Carefully Dakken stepped out and over the people, staring out the one window where the darkness was washed a dull silver. Something about the way the glass pane shook. Something in the way the wind howled, like a great monster was hammering on the walls and trying to find a way in. The air was still inside of the building, he could almost feel the absence of the wind as a tangible thing. A taste that was bitter and stale. Pressure bearing down on him, forcing his mind to stir and his blood to rush.
“Is there a cellar in this place?” he asked having to shout for the Keeper to hear over the winds. Dakken saw the man nod and point to a place behind the counter. Dakken took one last look at the window and noticed just a tiny drop of silver dripping on the inside of the glass. It wasn’t rain. Sil Storms didn’t come with rain. He twisted around. “Alright! Everybody down in the cellar!”
They all looked at him like he’d gone mad. The large man that he’d faced earlier stood up. “I told you he was trouble. Now’s he gone and cracked up.” The others sounded their agreement.
“Tie him up!” Dakken heard a shout but wasn’t sure where it came from.
Glancing back, the drop became little streams so tiny most still hadn’t noticed, the walls shook and the howling increased, a victorious cry of release. Then the wind died away. The silence destroyed the sound with a single moment of pure stillness. “Fine, you all stay up here and die. The only way to truly escape the Sil Storm is underneath the ground.” He quickly made his way behind the counter.
“Stop him! Our stores are under there. He’s going to steal them.”
The arguments began and he felt the floors creak as they rushed at him. The Sil Storm was still, watching, waiting he felt it stronger now more than ever. He spun to protect his arms they attempted to grab. He flinched back and avoided a strike to his head. These men weren’t trained to fight, though he suspected some of them had experience in brawling. He brought up his knee to strike at them, then pivoted using his leg instead of his arm to block another strike to his waist. Leaving his arms free and he quickly retaliated. Using the counter he leapt, kicking at them to keep them back. They were to trying overwhelm him and he knew it would work eventually. But the fools were only wasting time.
“Stop it,” another man said coming up and pulling some of them off. “Let him go. Listen.” Dakken recognized the man as Adam’s father and soon he was standing in front, staring down everyone that had attacked him. Adam’s father tilted his head and looked at each of them, then craned his neck to peer thoughtfully at Dakken. “The Sil Storm has quieted.”
Silently, Dakken watched their faces twist in confusion, curiosity and some in relief.
“Then is it over?” someone asked.
Adam’s father looked at Dakken, searching for confirmation of something he already suspected. Dakken glanced with his eyes to the window. “No. We should all get below. Just to be safe.”
“Listening to a stranger now Eden?”
Adam’s father turned a glare at the large man’s scoffing. “No wonder you haven’t been able to find a woman who’ll take you Ian. Now close your mouth before I do it for you.”
Affronted Ian flinched back, his hatred filled eyes falling on Dakken. But he didn’t say anything, letting Adam’s father take further control of the situation. Soon everyone was ordered, and the door to the cellar was open. It was more like a trap door and the cellar was actually a hole in the ground as the building didn’t have a proper foundation.
“Is there enough room for everyone?” Dakken asked.
Eden had his arms crossed as he made sure all the people kept their place and no one pushed. He also made sure the children went in first. He glanced at Dakken. “Should be.”
He itched his brow and looked sideways at Eden. “You’re thinking that if there isn’t, you’re going to make sure I don’t go in.”
“It’s not personal,” Eden said. “But I have to look out for my own first.”
Dakken turned his head and watched as the silver streams like liquid metal pooled beneath the window. “We don’t have much time.”
Most were already below, calmer now and Dakken was left to stare at the silver pooling. Instead of spreading as water would, it was actually getting higher. Three inches at least it bubbled up. All this time Dakken had felt the Sil Storms were more than just weather, but it took this one moment for all his suspicions to be confirmed. It was impossible for a storm, with so much wind to leave no trees toppled, no rain, no thunder. Just a silvery wind that sometimes took people, and destroyed every shaving of metal that the Sil Storm touched. It was impossible, unless it wasn’t really a storm at all.
“Dak!” Adam was pushing against the mass of people and ran to him. “Come on, you have to get in. It’s almost full.”
“Adam what are you doing? Get back down there!” Eden came and grabbed his son’s arm.
“Dak is my friend dad! He has to come down with us.”
The look that passed between Dakken and Eden was all the boy needed to start yelling that it wasn’t fair. Dakken however wasn’t about to fight. “Go on, get below. I’ll be alright.”
“No,” Adam shook his head and fought as his father yanked him back towards the trap door. “It isn’t right! You can’t just leave him!”
Eden looked down into the hole, with voices so muddled only a few strong ones were audible. It was quite obvious from the grunts and noises that there wasn’t room for him. Once the boy was down, Eden gave Dakken an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.”
What was there to say? Part of him wanted to push his way down, not caring who got hurt or the fact that Adam’s father might die being so exposed to the Sil Storm that was still making its way inside. Yet, there was something inside of him that would rather die, than to take a father away from his child. Dakken walked back across the room and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. “Go on.”
Adam’s father hesitated. Then quickly walked across the room. “There is a place not far from here. Another cellar. Enough room for you. Just two blocks down and one to the left. You’ll see the rubble of a home is a door. Please, don’t tell anyone about it or what you find there. But at least you should be safe.”
“Providing I survive getting there.” Once again the silence surrounding them took his attention. There was always a calmness before battle. A muscle growing tighter until it sprang to life to attack the enemy. But how to fight a force like the Sil Storms?
“It’s the best I can do,” Eden said and turned his back.
Dakken nodded to himself. A string was better than nothing though it didn’t get you up the cliff. “Thank you for your help,” he said hearing the dry tone of his own voice. Motion caught his eye and he sprang forward, seeing the silver that had been building, starting to flow like a snake towards them. “Hurry!” he said to Eden then darted for the door. The snake turned and slithered faster. He reached for the door, to lift the large piece of timber that was barring his only way out when a burning pain caught his left hand. He screamed as his skin turned from flesh to ashen. He used his right hand to shift the wood block, and was able to drop it onto the tendril of silver, releasing him. He opened the door and ran out.
For a brief second the stillness caught him frozen and in awe. Everything was covered in a glittering metallic skin, golden and coppery colors like oil in water. And silver, so much silver it would be blinding if it was midday. He’d never seen anything like it. Then, the skin blew away and twisted, churning as the wind flashed silver. He ran.
The flutter of a hundred birds pursued him, but he didn’t dare look back. The sensation of being chased by a rabid animal kept him moving. The village itself may have been just a ghost, stacks of wood waiting to be used, or places that were once homes or inns stood blank like a newly washed sheet. But the streets were kept clean of debris. It was down those streets he ran, keeping Eden’s words in his mind. Skidding to the left he caught an involuntary glimpse behind him. The wind whipping the vicious Sil Storm was advancing like a moving wall. It was almost on him when he saw the pile of rubble that Eden must have meant. He couldn’t stop himself from looking back, even on his knees lifting plank after plank, searching for the door.
Then he found it, a wooden loop and pin that kept it closed and just as he undid it he was hit hard by a force that threw him forward and into the ends of broken wood. He cried out, pushing himself off and ignoring the blood now soaking his shirt. The wind was upon him, beating his hair and clothes. But the wind wasn’t just wind. It was as if thousands of tiny pebbles were being thrown at him by a giant with arms the size of tree trunks. Blurring his vision he clenched his eyes shut to protect his sight. He felt around the ground, for the door while his entire body was starting to go numb.
He heard himself laugh as he found the wooden loop and pulled with what remained of his strength and threw himself into the hole, without opening his eyes. Falling for a few feet he collapsed in a heap, the wind still raging above, and though he felt a gentle breeze stirring, he was underneath the ground. Safe. He stood up and opened his eyes and smiled as devilishly as he could. “Not this time. Go rot in hell!” He pulled on the rope tied to the door, slamming it shut.
When he turned it took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but he noticed there was a small light in the far corner. What an odd thing to have lit without being tended. Movement ahead stopped him in his tracks.
“Hello,” he said, squinting. Eden had asked him not to tell anyone what he had in this place. What if it wasn’t a what? Another noise of movement darted away from him. “I’m not going to hurt you. My name is Dakken. I was told to come here by a man named Eden. Do you know him?” What if it was an animal? What a fool he’d look like if it was. He laughed under his breath and took another step towards where he heard the noises end, crouching lower so he didn’t seem too intimidating. The sound was so small. Not the movement of an adult or a large animal.
A stabbing pain reminded him that he was wounded. He sat down on the dirt floor and held his chest where the wood pierced him. And looked at his left hand in the low flickering light, the skin was still an off color. The pain wasn’t bad, but it felt tingly and numb. Almost as if he were poisoned.
He looked up hearing tiny foot falls, so quiet yet this time he was sure. He stared, trying to keep a gentle smile through the pulsing in his chest and the numbness that was now spreading up his arms. “What’s your name?”
Slowly the little child came forward, the light revealing a small round face. Sparkling eyes despite the dullness of her dress, and the filth covering her. “Mayani,” she said, timidly standing just in enough light to see her.
“You’re Adam’s sister aren’t you?” he said, noticing a similarity in the shape of their faces. “But he said you were taken by the Sil Storm.”
Her lips turned down and she slipped further away, though he could still see her outline in shadow. “I was,” she said.
A child that survived a Sil Storm. A town that had two Sil Storms within a few days. The tension that was abnormally high for a town this big and organized. “Mayani, you don’t have to be afraid. I won’t tell anyone. But, does your mother and brother know you’re here?” She stepped back into the light and gave a slow, uncertain nod. “You’re a Caster aren’t you Mayani?” Again she nodded. Tears filled her eyes and she went back into the shadows, but this time he didn’t call her back.
A Caster. This explained everything. But at this point, there wasn’t much he could do, the Sil Storm was raging again, he could hear the whistling of the wind and hear sounds like creaking wood.
Every town that is plagued with Sil Storms is said to have a Caster. He wasn’t sure, but it was an odd coincidence, that Sil Storms came most often to places with a Caster. But one so young. He assumed her family was trying to protect her. If the villagers found out she was hiding here, what she was. They would kill her. His heart clenched as he let himself lay back. He took out the letter in his pocket again and held it tightly in his right hand. It didn’t matter what she was, he would keep this secret to his grave. His head pounded until he could only hear it and the thrum of his heart against his ribcage. He was still losing blood, but was too tired to care at the moment.
He wasn’t sure if it was sleep, but he laid on the ground, his eyes focused up, listening to the winds. Even as the little girl skittered like a mouse across a kitchen floor, he didn’t move. He’d never seen a Caster before, though stories about them were told across the Iskarian continent and even as far as Mejia.
In some places they were monsters, with horns three heads and all. In others they were people that killed to quench some strange hunger for flesh. In some they could call lightning and even others that said they were demons inside of the husks of the people that were taken by the storms.
But stories were often just that. Many used to call him a wild beast, when he was young. The things he’d done in the name of his country. Then came peace, and he wasn’t needed, or wanted. Soldiers of Iskar, shunned for being killers, for becoming exactly what they were trained to be. Is how they treated him any different on how they treated others like this child? He wasn’t sure.
For all he knew this child would kill him. But one thing he was certain of, he couldn’t fight back.
“You’re hurt,” her voice seemed to be coming from everywhere. Or was it his wounds making him hallucinate?
He took a shaky breath. “Yes I am. The Sil Storm did this to me.” There was silence for a while, then a scraping. He turned his head and watched the little girl, around maybe eleven years old carry a bucket towards him. Her little face strained, just as any child’s would.
“It liked your blood,” Mayani said in a matter of fact tone that was disturbing. “Mommy always says you should keep the wounds clean. Daddy gets hurt sometimes, and she always says it’s better to clean and bandage them so they don’t get icky.”
“Do you know what the Sil Storm is Mayani, it isn’t a normal storm is it?”
“No,” she said and pulled of the sash from her dirty dress, then held it out to him. “My daddy says I shouldn’t talk about it.” No, of course not, Dakken thought. He didn’t want to be reminded of what she was now.
Sitting up took considerable effort, but he did it and took the sash, dipping it in the water. He kept a close eye on the girl, who stepped back from him, watching him just as warily. After getting as much of the blood off his chest as he could, he took a moment to inspect his left hand. He was certain it had been pierced right through, yet he expected to be bleeding out and the numbness that was still worrying him had lessened in his fingertips now. He prodded the edge of the wound and found that he’d been right. It had gone right through, the flesh held a shine in the light that he couldn’t identify. The bleeding had nearly stopped altogether so he wrapped the wound. “So what do you do down here Mayani? For a little girl, you must get bored.”
He watched her touch her cheek to her shoulder, and in a listless way, shrugged. “My mommy spends time with me. So does Adam. He plays with me now, though he never used to.”
“But you can’t go outside.”
She shook her head and sat down tucking her legs under her and leaning forward. “I like to imagine a lot. Do you want to hear?”
“I’m really tired Mayani. Maybe when I wake up.”
Her face fell and she slid back away from him, biting her lower lip. “Okay.”
Allowing himself to lie back, Dakken closed his eyes. Listening to the roar above them. He began to think about when the storm was over. All he wanted was to get out. Move on. He rubbed the note that he put back in his pocket. His daughter was younger when she died. He couldn’t imagine her ever staying in one place for very long. But Mayani would never leave this hole. If she did, she would be accused of bringing the Sil Storms. Her parents would hide her, and at first everything would be alright. But if the Sil Storms kept coming, even they would have to accept what their daughter was. What that meant for the other townsfolk. “Tell me your imaginings. Maybe they’ll help me fall asleep.”
He listened but she didn’t speak at first. Perhaps she was tired as well?
“I imagine a place filled with mountains. Green grasses, flowers and rocks and caverns so immense you could get lost inside of them. My brother is there, though he looks different. I sometimes think it isn’t really him, but who else would be there? And a man made of metal. Such a strange thing to imagine I know. My mother tells me I have a talent for it. He’s glowing like the tower, and the stars light up like candles. Then the winds come and the lightning from the Sil Storms. That part always scares me. I’m sorry if it scares you too. Though I suppose you aren’t afraid. You’re like my daddy is, he isn’t afraid of anything.” She paused for a moment and he wanted to listen some more. “Are you asleep yet?”
He didn’t answer her, even though he was still awake. Her imaginings sounds disturbingly familiar. But she didn’t need to know that. He waited until he heard her settle down and the wind fade, the silence ebbing some of the tension away. Even as his thoughts churned, he forced himself to sleep.
When he woke it was to the sound of the trap door being opened and boots hitting the ground. He sat up with a headache, but was surprised to find that he wasn’t in pain anywhere else.
“I need to get you out of here without anyone seeing you,” Eden said looking down at him.
“Good morning to you as well,” he said rubbing his eyes. “I assume the rest of the townsfolk think I was either killed by the storm or that I fled?”
Eden nodded and looked over where the beam of light was shining. Mayani was still sound asleep, he fingers curled around a doll that seemed a ragged version of her, with dull flaxen yarn hair and a round face.
“You don’t have to worry, I won’t tell anyone,” Dakken said coming to stand beside him. “She’s very beautiful and very sweet. But do you honestly think you can keep her here forever?”
The anguish that flashed across the farmer’s face was evidence enough that he knew better, but he only turned and climbed back out of the hole. “Most of the people cluster near the northern fields in the morning.”
“What of the women and children?” Dakken asked climbing after him, unsurprisingly not even feeling a twinge of pain from his hand.
“They are there as well, we all try to stick together after a Sil Storm and work until any damage is repaired.”
Squinting at the rising sun Dakken sighed. “I’ll make sure I’m not seen.”
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