The Raging Storm

Chapter Twenty-One: The Culprit

He pushed himself up from the clay tiles so he was in a crouched position. To keep track of where Savere went, he needed to get inside the wall with haste. In the past, he and the Foundlings used to jump from the roofs onto the wall and climb over. The problem was, the wall had too many guards patrolling it now. Twice as many. Using his powers was also out of the question. His orange aura would attract too much attention. The night was in full effect now, and he could see guards patrolling up and down the wall in pairs, equipped with torches. He needed to come up with something. Quickly. Before he lost track of Savere. Who knew when a chance like this would come again?

His eyes ran along the stone wall until... there. A lone guard stood far enough from the others, leaning against the wall, drinking from a bottle, his torch laid on the ground at his feet. There was a wide enough gap in the number of guards where the lone man stood. The man put the bottle down and wobbled a bit when he bent down to pick up the torch. A drunken guard saves the day.

Kazmere jumped from clay roof to clay roof until he was above the guard. He looked left and right. The streets near the wall were empty save the guard. All the other Crimson Guards stood twenty yards away near entrances into the Lord's Highway or were far enough away that they wouldn't notice. He pulled out a dagger from his cloak and smashed the hilt of it down into a clay tile, breaking it. Pieces of it crumbled and fell to the alleyway to his right. As they hit the cobblestone, they made enough sound to get the drunken guard's attention.

The guard jumped an inch into the air. "Who's- who's there."

He stumbled over to the broken tiles, then looked up, eyes wide, right as Kazmere dropped behind him and smashed the hilt of his dagger into the back of the man's head. The man let out a grunt and collapsed into his arms. The torch fell to the cobblestone street. With the crimson armor, the man weighed a ton. Kazmere groaned with the effort of holding the man up. An indention in the wall that led to a closed doorway was only a few spans from him. He dragged the guard over and propped him against the wall. He ran his hands along the guard until he found the bottle, pulled it out, and propped it against the sleeping man.

He stood up and examined his handiwork when he caught movement in the window to his left.

A young boy's face watched him from the window, eyes wide.

Kazmere brought a single index finger to his lips. If the boy alerted others inside, it could jeopardize him. A moment passed. Slowly, the boy nodded. Kazmere let out a big breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. He saluted the boy - fist to chest - and bowed, then headed toward the wall. He put the dagger away back in his cloak and stamped the torch out with his foot while he passed by.

Leaning against the corner, he poked his head out to see if any guards were nearby. A couple still stood near the entrance a dozen yards away, laughing in conversation. He looked right. A pair walked in the opposite direction of him.

Now's my chance.

Kazmere dashed to the stone wall and jumped up, trying to grab the top. He was too short by a bit. He let out a soft curse, then grabbed hold and climbed up. The indentions between the individual stones made it difficult but he got a grip. He hauled himself over the stone wall and landed on the soft grass on the other side. A groan escaped his lips when he hit the ground.

I've got to find Savere. I might've already lost her.

He pushed himself to his feet with effort. The grounds of the manor he found himself on was a few yards from the main cobblestone road that ran through the middle of the Lord's Highway. That's where Savere would be walking since she was free to enter. About twenty-five yards from him was the closest manor. Lights filled the inside and shadows moved across the windows. People were home and awake; he needed to be careful. His eyes latched onto the top of the manor roof. That's how he would spot her.

Cottonwood trees filled the grounds. Kazmere dodged from tree to tree until only a few yards from the manor. He could hear the muffled noises of people inside. The tree he was next to was equal in height to the manor. It didn't have branches until higher up though so he needed to use his daggers to climb until then. He sighed. After tonight, I don't want to climb anything else for the rest of my life.

He took out two two blood daggers from his cloak. Just to comfort himself, he ran his hand over the pouch to make sure his Relic was still there. It was. He still felt relief every time he touched it. He looked up and rammed the daggers into the tree and climbed up, one at a time until he was near the branches. Once on a branch, he tucked the daggers away. Then he climbed the rest of the way until he was level with the roof, then hopped over to it. Keeping his feet light, he walked over to the area that faced the main street that ran through the Lord's Highway and crouched down.

She's probably already gone by now. You took too long. He shoved away those thoughts. There was still a chance. The cobblestone main street was empty, save for a few servants walking between manors. He ran his eyes along the road for ten minutes, looking for Savere's white braid. She wasn't anywhere in sight. His heart started to drop into his stomach. I've lost her. He grit his teeth in frustration. All of this for nothing.

Just when Kazmere was about to give up, he turned his head to the right to the neighbor manor. Large banners with the sigil of Reven floated from poles in the soft night breeze. They protruded from both sides of every window around the marble building. How patriotic. His eyes went to the window and his breath caught in his throat. The curtain that covered the window was pulled up far enough to see a man and a woman conversing. There Savere was. Talking to a middle-aged man. Kazmere's mouth went dry when he recognized him. White hot fury built up inside him until he was about to burst from the seams.

King Vlidian.

In his thirty years of life, he'd only seen the man that caused him so much trouble in his life twice. Once at a speech in front of a crowd when he was sixteen. Another time when the man had come to the Skyprison to gloat over destroying the Foundlings. The king was built like an ox - wide, muscled, and hairy. His beard, tinged with gray, was otherwise black and full. He kept his hair cut short, almost to the scalp. Kazmere remembered his eyes were full of cold anger the last time they met, even while he gloated over killing Kazmere's friends. Not once had he mentioned his dead wife. That had seemed strange to him then, but the king didn't seem like someone with love and compassion filling his heart. Only cold ambition and a thirst for power.

Seeing him now made Kazmere want to flare his powers and end him for good. With a well-placed dagger, he could finish what he'd started when he created the Foundlings. This man was the reason his parents were dead. The reason his sister was dead. The reason his friends were dead. He started, realizing his hand was stroking his pocket where his Relic was.

Not yet. If he killed the king now, he would never get out of the Lord's Highway. He would be killed, or worse, sent back to the Skyprison. They would torture him endlessly until he gave up where Sera and Zavan were. If Savere already hadn't. King Vlidian would kill any other Foundlings left. Deep down, he believed if Zavan was alive, others could be too. Better to wait. Kazmere promised himself next time he saw the king, he would look into the man's eyes while he ended him.

That led him to the next question. Why were Zavan and Sera still free from the Crimson Guards? Did Savere not give their locations away? She knew where both of them were. Enough to get them caught. What was her game? A small part of him still felt confused. Did this mean Ansel wasn't the one who betrayed them? Why did he kill the queen then?

The thoughts of Ansel were crushed by the thoughts of Savere. Fiery anger rose all the way to his face. The hatred he felt for the king was nothing to scoff at, but the anger building toward Savere felt like a mountain on his soul. How could she do this to him? To the Foundlings? They were supposed to be family. In the Skyprison, he had spent months pacing back and forth, planning what he would do when he found out who betrayed them. Now that he knew it was Savere, his anger felt like a cup being filled when it was already full. The hot anger slowly compressed into a cold rage. He clenched his jaw and touched the pouch that held his Relic. When Savere left the manor, he would trail her wherever she went.

Then he would have his revenge. No matter what it cost his soul.