of Sword and Flame

Chapter 27: Nice to Meet You

 Silence. That was what had fallen over the three assassins, huddled in an abandoned underground cellar they'd broken into. Complete and utter silence. Even the rats and mice they'd been living with seemed to sense the tension and quieted their little squeaks to avoid breaking the barrier that connected them all.

The barrier of silence.

Aran sat with his back to the wall, legs stretched out before him. To his left, Jin sat with his knees to his chest, quietly nodding his head as he slept. To Aran's right, Nik was staring, looking at him like one would an interrogation victim.

'We have to talk,' they signed, and Aran let out a deep sigh that split the silence in two.

Aran shuffled closer to Nik, preparing for the barrage of questions he would have to go through. He had to accept that he had taken the lead in the mission and, with that, the blame for his complete failure.

"I will accept all guilt," he started before Nik could even say anything. Aran kept his eyes on his hands, avoiding Nik's eyes as they widened. They quickly shook their head. Aran watched from his peripheral as Nik continued to sign.

'I don't care about that! It's just—' Nik paused before continuing, '—Are you okay?'

Aran lifted his head, turning to stare at Nik. They looked so genuinely concerned. He didn't know how to respond. All he could do was shake silently as he fought the temptation to start sobbing again.

His brother was dead. For so long, he had fought that fact, convincing himself if he just did what he was told, he could go out and find his brother again.

He could still remember the last day he held his brother in his arms, trapped in that stuffy wagon.

Aran stood in the back of the wagon; limbs pressed harshly against other limbs as they were forced to stand in the mass of bodies packed in like a messy toy bin. His brother was pressing his snot-covered face against Aran's chest, something which would usually cause Aran to reach out and smack him.

"Cut it out!" he would've said if they were at home and his brother were doing this. Ash liked to annoy Aran, sometimes going so far as to do it purely out of boredom. Steal his toys, pull his hair, anything that angers Aran.

But they weren't home, and Aran wasn't hitting his brother. He was holding his brother's head in his arms, stroking the boy's tight coils to calm him as he sobbed. Aran pushed his shoulders against the other children, creating a bubble around Ash to give him more room to breathe. Even as his arms began to cramp from the position and others tried to push back in retaliation, he persisted, shielding his brother from it all.

Hours passed like that. Ash fell asleep against Aran, his quiet breaths only reaching Aran's ears. It rocked through him in gentle tremors, a calming motion compared to the jerks of the wagon when its wheels slammed against the road's rocks.

At some point, Aran could feel the ground shift and change. No longer were they traversing pre-paved roads; now, they were crossing through the uncharted. Aran could feel the ground's green through his feet, desperately trying to reach out and connect to it. He needed to get to the green. He needed to.

The wagon finally came to a halt, and as Aran listened to their captors getting out of the front, he silently prayed. He prayed to the Saintesses that he'd never wanted to learn about, the ones his papa would desperately try to teach the squirming child. He prayed to Saints he didn't even believe in, desperate for something to cling to.

Aran shut his eyes as the latch to the door clicked open. It creaked and groaned, and suddenly, he was crushed and swept away by the kids trying desperately to escape. They trampled over each other like wild animals, scraping and clawing at the opening. Aran was pushed to the ground in the process, and as he was walked on and slammed from every angle, he found it in himself to push up and over his brother, using his back to shield Ash once more.