Chapter 9: Floor 1: Chapter Nine - The Xanathar’s Guild

The smell of bread drifted through the rafters and into my little room above the bakery, sweet and yeasty. Not a bad smell to wake up to, though it does make me hungry.

Morning sunlight sliced through the cracked and dusty window, painting sharp lines across the equally dusty room. I woke up facing the ceiling and still donning the dress from last night.

The ceiling looked back at me like a blurry landscape. I just stared at it for a bit, like the blank brown space would bring me some peace.

I thought back to my conversation with Eshlyn last night. The dinner before it, that amazing trick we pulled off in the river. I went swimming with a sea elf… that was so fun. I don't think I’ve ever laughed that hard in my life.

I should keep working on my aether-control. It’d be nice if I could manifest some water instead of just moving what's already there.

My mind drifted to Eshlyn’s warm touch on my back, the way she rested her forehead against mine to steady us in the water. The way her eyes lit up when I pushed us into the sky, like I was someone worth believing in.

I told her I was a fugitive last night… but she didn’t care. She even said she’d fight for me… I thought she was smart, but now I’m not so sure. Why would she do that?

When she told me she wanted to try, even though there were a million-and-one reasons we shouldn’t. No strategy, no idea how to proceed, or what that means for us. Just that we could try…. What was she thinking? Still… I can't help but want to.

I really can't make a single good decision, can I?

I looked down at my hands and at the navy blue dress I never took off. I could still feel the ghost of her thumb brushing over my knuckle.

Maybe I should go see her today… No

Today I’d be busy. I needed to go back to Xolob’s shop. I needed to see what’s there, and I can't invite her to that.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and sat up to face the door before noticing a soft glow pulsing from the edge of the nightstand. Aether-script? The glow grew brighter the second I looked at it, then resolved into silver letters curling across the air as if it were floating parchment.

It looked just like the aether-script Eshlyn left for Val at the southern gate that day, though I doubt she figured out where I was staying and scribbled it in person. Did she send it somehow?

I pushed off the bed to get a better look at it. The note shimmered with her signature, elegant and neat, like her handwriting reflected her status.

Good morning. Swing by the shop today?

I stared at it for a long beat, lips pressing into a thin line, not sure what to think. There’s an obvious space under it… Like it’s waiting for me to write a response.

My thoughts still lingered on the events of last night. Eshlyn had waited for hours while I was in that interrogation room. We spent much of the night together after that, and now here she was, reaching out again.

I let a grin slide across my lips. Maybe Dent was right, she is trouble.

I’d be right across from Selene’s shop. Just down the street from where Eshlyn worked, but I couldn’t let her see me.

I have to go find out what happened to Xolob… Figure out if I can help them in any way. If Eshlyn saw me, she’d know I was up to something. Whatever happens today, it's on me. No one else.

I felt like that was the least I could do after stealing Xolob's bow right out of its hands and basically causing everything that followed.

I let out a slow breath and neared the note. I guess I could try writing in that space.

I traced my finger over the blank opening below the lettering. It felt like pressing on glass, but nothing happened. Just had to make it complicated…

I tried again, this time closing my eyes beforehand. Focus. Intent. Scribe. Write. It worked this time. Silver lingered in the wake of my finger.

Maybe later. Errands.

Damn… it couldn’t straighten my handwriting even a little?

The words etched into the hovering glass then vanished. It was like the note fell out of existence, or maybe I was just seeing things, and it never really existed at all.

I stood still for a moment, the emptiness on the nightstand more noticeable than before.

I pulled on my armor, cloak, and fastened my satchel. I checked my daggers and bow for wear, then checked them again.

I'm stalling, aren't I? High-Aether, this is a bad idea.

One glance at the window told me the bakery was already in full swing below, people bustling in and out, chasing cinnamon dreams and fresh loaves.

I can do this. I thought to myself before pulling my hood up and slipping out the back, silent as a breath.

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This part of the City of Souls hadn’t changed. Still crooked. Still cold. Still too full of things that stared at you when you weren’t looking.

But Xolob’s corner of it… That had changed.

The shop was gone. Burned down to its bones.

I remembered that janky wooden sign swinging in the breeze, Xolob’s Trinkets, with hand-painted letters and a little etched skull in the corner. Now, the sign lay in the gutter, half-charred and cracked like it had screamed on the way down.

The building itself was just a husk. Blackened timbers jutted like ribs out of the foundation. The stone was scorched and lined with soot. Ash clung to everything. Even the air tasted like it.

I moved past the Watch barriers when I was sure no one would see, jumping over the glyph line in a stride. The glyph hung in the air, buzzing faintly. No alarms went off when I passed. Either they’d given up investigating or wanted it to look that way. It didn’t matter much, though. There was no one here, just empty ash and the nostalgia of what could have been.

Finch said the place burned down two days after the incident. The burn looked very clean. It was thorough and obviously deliberate.

Typical Guild move, no evidence to be discovered, just cinders and rumors.

I ducked past the sunken remnants of what looked like a shelf, boots crunching over glass and char.

The piles of assorted junk probably made great kindling.

The shelves had collapsed. The jars had exploded into glittering arcs across the floor. Something half-melted in the corner smelled faintly of perfume and blood but didn’t provide any valuable insight.

There was little to be discovered. The only insight I was gaining was how bad I felt about the whole thing. I knew it wasn’t my fault, or even Val’s, for that matter, but the guilt still stuck with me. It grew like ivy under my steps.

I swallowed and moved deeper, toward what used to be the back room. Half a ceiling remained overhead, angled like a jaw unhinged. Some of these parts shouldn’t have been flammable, but I’m sure the Guild had their ways.

Ugh… It's not your fault… It’s not your fault.

I caught the black twine of the bow I now carried around. The bow I’d ripped from Xolob’s fingers. It might not be my fault, but I still owe them. Besides, what am I supposed to do? Let them be trafficked by that murderous gang?

I stepped out the back door to where Val and I had run off after I’d tackled him. The sewer drain was covered in soot. An unusual amount of soot, like it’d been placed on purpose.

Probably spread it to cover their trail… The Watch should have found this, but of course, I have the advantage of knowing exactly where to look.

The iron drain was slightly warped now. The metal blistered in places, but it was intact enough for me to lift.

I looked down into the eerie tunnel below. I couldn't help but recall stopping Val from going down there. Told him he’d die if he did… and here I was, alone, staring into that same mouth of dark water.

If Val were here, he’d kill me, though I think the sting of hypocrisy might beat him to it.

I pressed my fingers to the edge of the grate. The inside was cold, sticky. My skin flinched like it remembered some part of what was beneath. I knew what the Guild did to people like Xolob. If they didn’t kill them, they’d be sold to whoever was willing to pay. Being a goblin wouldn’t do them any favors either.

I knew going after them was idiotic. I knew it in my bones.

If this gang catches me, I’m finished. Even if I get away, there is always the risk of them getting me later. Just like how they came back for Xolob.

I couldn’t help but think of Val in this instance.

“You’re brave in ways that piss me off and I love it,” Val had said while escaping that cursed tomb.

I looked over in the direction of The Witches Brew, where Eshlyn would be working, hoping I’d swing by at some point. It was just down the street from here.

I am not going to fight them. I reminded myself.

Just in and out. Quiet. No one will even know I was there. I tried to quench the rising panic.

Just enough to find Xolob. If I can get them out without being seen, then I will, but otherwise… I might have to let them go, I just hope it doesn’t come to that.

Either way. I’m the only one carrying the risk this time. No one else would get hurt.

I lingered, staring longer than I meant to.

Then I lowered myself in.

The drop wasn’t far, but the landing made a sound I didn’t like, and the muck hit me like an ankle-deep waste bath.

Fucking GROSS. I thought to myself before looking up at the sunshine and safety I’d left behind.

In and out… don’t let anyone see you, I repeated, as the tunnel swallowed the last light behind me.

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The air down here didn’t smell like rot exactly. It was older than that. Like mildew and rust had given up the fight and decided to ferment together in peace. I tried breathing through my mouth, but the taste was somehow worse.

The tunnel stretched ahead in soft, curving arcs, some spaces tight or small enough to force me into a crouch. The stone walls were slick with moisture. Faint green moss traced the seams like veins. I kept to the side, sometimes brushing the wall as I moved. I kept my bow in hand, arrow ready, and my steps slow, light; every step was calculated.

I wasn’t expecting direction down here, but I knew those dimwitted Guild members wouldn’t be able to navigate blindly. I knew they’d have to mark the way somehow, so I kept a lookout for anything unusual.

Then I saw it.

Etched into the damp stone, barely visible unless the light hit it just right.

A diamond shape with a black, pupil-less eye in the center.

The Guild’s emblem.

I lingered over the symbol, fingers curling slightly. The etching was shallow, somewhat fresh. Not carved with care, just speed and familiarity. Like whoever had made it didn’t expect anyone to notice or care.

I exhaled. This is it. I have to be getting close.

Following from there was simple.

Another turn. Another symbol. The deeper I went, the more deliberate the path became. Marks every thirty paces or so, like signposts in the dark. I moved quietly. Slowly. Every creak of leather or splash of water echoed longer than it should.

I squinted, noticing something through the widening tunnel space.

A chamber had opened up just ahead, a dead-end basin with low walls and a sloped ceiling. Faint torchlight flickered inside, dull orange bleeding into the black. I crouched behind the archway and listened.

Voices.

Rough. Casual. Confident.

I crept closer, hugging the left wall, until I could peer into the room from afar.

A crude metal cage sat in the center of the space. Inside, hunched and bruised but unmistakably alive, was Xolob.

I found them… but I need to observe for a while. I’ll find my moment once I have all the information.

Xolob looked… worse for wear. Their leather and clothes were shredded, dried blood caked on one sleeve. One eye was swollen shut. But they were upright, sitting cross-legged with their back against the bars like they’d been here a while.

Two gang members leaned against a nearby crate, tossing something back and forth, a coin or chip of something. I could barely hear, but one of them snickered at something Xolob said.

Another was crouched nearby, inspecting a stack of bindings, probably for transport. These didn’t look like the recruits Val and I fought before. They had an arrogance about them. A steady stance and posture as if they knew what they were doing.

A fourth leaned near the cage, tapping the bars with the butt of a longsword. “Ay! Try not to piss yourself before we get going.”

I watched, counted. Four visible. One hallway leads out. No signs of alarms or glyphs, but this setup looked temporary. Definitely not the main hideout.

I traced their patrol patterns. One paced. The rest drifted. The whole thing was loose, like they didn’t expect anyone to care or be stupid enough to bother them.

I was still mapping my approach when I heard something behind me.

A footstep.

Close.

Shit… Don't panic… When they step in, I’ll surprise them.

I waited and listened for the footsteps to close the distance.

One step… Two… Now

I twisted around in a snap, dagger aimed where I imagined their neck would be. I sent my blade quickly up toward the source of the sound, but panic surged within me as a hand caught my wrist mid-strike.

Another hand covered my mouth just fast enough to stop the sharp breath I’d sucked in.

WHAT???

... Wait…

Familiar grip. Familiar scent, leather and steel, and something like smoke.

Val?

He twisted me around and met my eyes with a raised brow. His two swords glinted in the faint torchlight behind him.

I yanked his hand off my mouth. “What are you doing here?” I hissed in a whisper.

He scowled, crouching to meet my gaze. “Me? What are you doing here?”

“I asked you first.” I retorted.

He scowled. “I’m trying to find Xolob.”

“Alone?” I questioned him.

He paused to look at me in disbelief, “Are you serious right now?”

“Oh, shut it,” I said, wishing I didn’t have to whisper before continuing. “How could you be so reckless?”

“Me reckless?” he shot back, voice low but sharp. “Surely you remember telling me I’d die if I went down here.”

“Yes I fucking remember!” I almost shouted but held back.

He shook his head at me, “I don’t think I've ever met anyone so hypocritical in my life.”

He wasn’t wrong. This was idiotic and so like him to be doing the same thing I was… and the fact that we both came in alone.

UGH.

I couldn’t help but hate how similar we were.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

I opened my mouth to snap at him, then closed it again.

“Fine. You caught me.” I said in a low breath.

He released my wrist, both of us now hiding behind the bend in the tunnel where we wouldn’t be seen.

“I guess you’re one to leap into fires without even a plan. It’s a good thing I’m around, at least I know to bring a bucket.” He said in a mocking tone.

He thinks he so fucking smart doesn't he.

I glared. “Get over yourself… and if we do this right, there won't be any fire.”

Val rolled his eyes. “Oh, I see. So your plan is to sneak a caged goblin out of a guarded sewer tunnel? How are you gonna do that… charm them with wit and eyeliner?”

Anger began bubbling within me. Did his sarcastic ass really just say that to me?

“Better than your dumbass plan, which I assume is just stab everyone and hope for the best.”

He looked at me as if it took all he had not to bite back at me before calmly saying. “There’s only four of them. We can take four.”

“And what if they’re just the surface crew?” I hissed. “What if more come running the second we engage? Or if we escape, just for them to come after us like they did Xolob. We need to be smart about this.”

He didn’t answer. His jaw was set, brows low.

“We wait,” I said. “Watch where they take Xolob if we have to. We wait for an opening. No fighting unless we have to.”

He hesitated. Then gave a reluctant nod. “Fine. But if one of them so much as sneezes at us funny, I’m gutting him.”

I waved a hand in his direction. “Whatever”.

I couldn’t help but feel better knowing he was here. That he would be there for me if things went bad. Even if he’s insufferable at times. He’s always here when I need him.

We eased back toward our vantage point, keeping low. Xolob was still in the cage, still sassing its captors. The group was moving now, pulling out a rope harness and unbolting the cage from the floor.

One of them muttered something about “transfer hub” and “wagons already waiting.”

Val and I shared a look.

Time to move, but not to attack. Not yet.

We trailed them at a distance, sticking to the tunnel's edges until they reached a slanted ramp leading up. They disappeared through an iron hatch, leaving only the echo of footfalls and the jangle of chains.

I waited a bit before creeping up and cracking the hatch so I could peer through the gap.

A warehouse. Low light. Stacks of crates. Hay for packaging. Two wagons, both covered.

They were loading Xolob into the one up front, placing them in a sealed crate before covering it with the tarp.

I could hear multiple voices now, feet shuffling. There had to be more of them here in the warehouse. Ten… twenty? I wasn’t sure.

Val crouched beside me, eyes sharp. “We should have taken them when there were only four!”

“Don't you think I know that now!” I shot back, still whispering. “Let’s just… see where they go.”

I waited till I was sure no one was watching before we slipped through the hatch. I directed Val to keep to the shadows, behind the stacks of crates and hay. We made it to the trailing wagon just before it pulled away, and hopped in under the tarps covering.

Inside smelled like rope, dust, and risk.

“Why do you always have to be right?” I murmured as the voices of city life began to blend with the surroundings.

“It’d do you good to listen to me more,” Val said beside me.

“Yeah, yeah. There should be fewer of them guarding the wagons, but we can't get into a brawl in the middle of town.” I said seeking validation.

“We can wait till things quiet down… I just hope this works.” He looked at me.

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We’d been under the tarp for what felt like forever.

Long enough for the adrenaline to wear off slightly, leaving behind the dull throb of muscle tension and the creeping awareness of just how cramped this wagon really was.

It wasn’t made for passengers. Especially not two people who barely fit in the same sentence without arguing.

I shifted slightly, knees brushing against Val’s thigh. He didn’t move.

The tarp overhead rustled with every bump in the road, and a shaft of muted sunlight kept bleeding through one frayed corner, painting a thin line across the dust that hung in the air.

It was hot, like the tarp was a thick blanket keeping the sun's warmth within.

Val being next to and so close to me didn’t help.

Val ran warm, like he was fueled by a tiny forge. I didn’t notice when we shared a room, but I could feel it now, lingering in the space between us.

Not even a breath of air separated our shoulders. Only one of mine lay on the wagon floor, the other I had to shrug to keep off of the nearby clutter. Our boots tangled every time we adjusted. At some point, it became the most comfortable just to have his elbow rest lightly against my abdomen. Neither of us had the energy or the room to slide away.

I hated how grounding it felt.

“Still with me over there?” he whispered, voice low enough it barely stirred the air.

“Yeah,” I whispered back. My throat was dry. “Just… thinking.”

“Dangerous habit,” he murmured.

I huffed, trying not to smile. Tried harder not to notice how close his mouth was to my ear.

The wagon hit a rut and jolted. His opposite arm automatically reached across to steady me, reflexive, protective.

I rested my head to the side enough to meet those icy-blue eyes of his, but he pulled back a second later, so I did the same, turning to stare into the dark sunlit tarp overhead.

“I still think this is a bad idea,” he muttered.

“This whole thing was a bad idea. Start to finish,” I responded.

He laughed in a way I didn’t expect. “We’ll never learn.”

“Yeah,” I said, quieter than I meant to. “You might be right about that… but we’re in this now. No turning back.”

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Eventually, the wagon creaked to a stop.

Everything outside fell still. No voices, no clatter, just the hiss of torches and the sound of leather boots over stone.

I held my breath and listened.

We were underground, that much I could feel. The air was too still, too heavy, like it hadn’t moved in years. Stone pressed in on every side, cold and wet-smelling. They’d driven us through a small tunnel, wherever we were.

Val shifted beside me, his elbow and shoulder brushing against my own.

Neither of us spoke. We stopped, but the tarp didn’t lift.

Good.

We waited in tense silence until footsteps retreated and the creak of a side door signaled someone leaving.

Nervousness sprang in my gut as I looked at Val and began signaling a countdown.

I counted down from 20, mouthing more aggressively when I got down to 5… 4…

Val gave me a slight nod in confirmation as we closed in on one. I could tell he was also half expecting an immediate fight, but hoping we’d get lucky and no one would be around.

We slipped out the back like smoke, one careful limb at a time, quick but fluid. The wagon was parked in a low-ceilinged loading zone, lit by flickering lanterns set into the stone walls. Reinforced beams, stacked crates, and at least three other wagons lined the far side of the room. There was a set of wooden doors trimmed with Iron on the back wall as if they connected to a larger structure.

Must be one of their bases, and not a small one.

The space wasn’t busy like the first warehouse, this one was quiet. An unsettling silence lingered, only interrupted by the two guards standing near a table off to the right. They were hardly watching the room while talking in low tones. They looked bored. Overconfident. Neither of them glanced our way.

I crouched low beside a crate and surveyed the room again. That’s when I saw them.

Xolob.

They were locked in a goblin-sized iron cage a few crates down from us, just beside a supply cart. Head bowed, but alive. Bruised, limping, but upright and looking almost like they’d already accepted their fate.

I felt a tightness in my chest rise, but I couldn’t let nervousness take over. Not when we were so close to our goal.

“We do this fast,” I whispered to Val. “Silent”

Val drew one of his short blades and nodded before moving in line behind me.

We moved together like shadows, ducking between carts and barrels, keeping low. Our movements remained small and cautious so as to not draw the limited attention of the personnel at the table. Val veered off slightly after a few feet, itching toward the flank of the two guards while I kept my eyes on Xolob’s cage.

Val can handle them, I thought, before hearing one of the guards laugh at something.

The laugh was cut off. It turned into a gurgle before the beginning of a scream yelped out of the adjacent guard, it too was silenced before it could fully take shape. Then came the low drum beat of bodies slumping into stone.

I didn’t look. In times like this, I trusted Val more than I cared to admit.

The cage lock was simple but effective, old steel with a triple-tumbler mechanism.

I pulled my tools from the side pocket of my satchel, palms already sweating.

“Bow and armor! I remember you.” Xolob’s voice was hoarse. Disbelieving.

I didn’t look up. “My name's Remy. We’re getting you out.”

“Have I finally gone delusional? Xolob asked in a voice that made me think they were seriously considering that as a possibility.

“I don’t know the answer to that… but I like to think I’m real at least,” I responded without missing a beat.

“You’d come all this way for a stranger?” They whispered to me as I worked the lock.

I chuckled as if I knew it didn’t make sense, “I took your bow without paying.”

“You sure did!” Xolob laughed in a whisper. “I didn’t tell the detectives about it. Told them all to get lost, but I guess that didn’t work out well given my current circumstances.”

I could help but smile behind my hooded cloak.

I worked the lock for about a minute before the first tumbler gave a soft click, slow and deliberate. I held my breath as the second shifted into place behind it, only slowing down slightly for the third. The lock gave one last click before the cage creaked open on its iron hinges, louder than I wanted, but Xolob was free.

Success.

Xolob looked at me, shaking its head. “I can't say I understand, but thank you… What's the plan now?”

“Well… we get you out of here obviously,” I responded, knowing that's not what they meant. “Just stay with me till we find the way.”

Val returned just as I helped Xolob out of the cage. Blood trickled from his blade, but his eyes were focused.

“I think we’re alone for now, but we should go before that changes.”

I motioned to Xolob. “Can you run?”

“Yes… They beat me up pretty good, but I can keep up. I was quick on my feet at one point, you know.” They responded.

“I’m sure you were.” I looked at him blankly and began moving towards the way we came in.

Xolob limped, but moved in sequence.

We crept back through the loading zone, quicker this time but still careful.

I whispered over to Val, pointing in the direction we were already moving, “We went through a tunnel on the way in. It's got to be that way.”

“Let's scope it out,” he whispered back.

The wagon we’d arrived in loomed just ahead, the tarp still sagging slightly from where we’d slipped out. Val moved beside me with a blade still in hand, every muscle tight. Xolob trailed behind, light on their feet despite the limp.

Maybe lil guy wasn’t lying about the quickness.

We were almost to the tunnel exiting the warehouse when a door creaked open from behind.

Val quickly pulled me behind a stack of crates. I latched onto Xolob to drag him with me. All three of us crouched low, not making a sound.

A man stepped into the room through that iron-framed doorway opposite the loading bay. He was fat and muscled, the kind of build that always looked tired but could swing a hammer twice your size. He yawned, scratching the side of his neck as he ambled toward the wagons.

I looked towards Val and held my breath. He hadn’t seen us.

I prayed he’d just pass through.

He didn’t.

He stopped short.

His gaze locked onto the cage. The open door. The limp chain. And then, down, his eyes found the bodies sprawled beside the table.

Everything inside me went still.

He took one step forward. Then another. Tilted his head. I could feel the air tightening around us like it knew what was coming next.

Shit.

He turned.

Not fast. Not panicked. Just a sharp, decisive run. He spun back toward the corridor he’d come from, boots scraping stone.

I reacted just as quickly, but the door wasn’t far. I lost my cover behind the crates to stand, arrow notched, string drawn.

I can stop this in one shot. He’ll never tell a soul, not if I can help it.

I loosed.

The arrow flew clean, clean as could be, given my heart pounding in my ears.

I watched in anticipation as the guy barreled toward the door. My arrow flew like it was racing against the clock.

It buried itself in the edge of the closing door, just as it slammed shut behind him.

Too slow! SHIT!

My stomach dropped. Cold and hollow and immediate.

Not a moment later, the sound hit.

Bells.

Sharp, brassy. From deep inside the base. Not ceremonial, tactical. An alarm bell with no rhythm, just urgency. Just sound to tell the world someone had messed up.

That someone was me.

I turned, “Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!” I shouted, voice cracking with it.

Val was already halfway to the tunnel door. “This way!”

We didn’t wait. Caution wasn’t a luxury we could afford anymore. We’d gone undetected until now, but I couldn’t help but imagine we’d just kicked a hornet's nest.

Boots against stone. Heart in my throat. The air tasted metallic, like panic had a flavor. My legs moved while my mind caught up.

Xolob stumbled, but I grabbed them by the collar, yanked them forward, and placed a hand against their back.” I’d done just about the same thing to Eshlyn when we ran out of that tomb. “Keep in front of me!” I yelled, not waiting for Xolob to acknowledge.

Voices blurred into rhythm behind us. Shouts. Doors slamming open. Relentless bells ringing in our ears like a symphony of chaos.

The Guild was coming. They’d be right on our tail.

We threw ourselves into the tunnel, Val leading. It's wide, stone mouth like the promise of salvation behind a row of teeth, and I already knew.

This wasn’t going to be an easy exit.

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Val shifted to cover the rear while I pushed Xolob onward. The bells still rang in the distance, echoing down the passage like they were all around us.

Light seeped in. Its glow widening from the far end until we burst out through a massive, warped iron grate and into the open air.

The streets beyond were crumbling, the stones cracked and overgrown with moss. We stood in a stretch of the city that looked like it had been purposely forgotten, boarded windows, shattered roofs, whole buildings leaned like tired old men.

The Hollow Ward.

I remembered passing through here my first week on the floor, hungry and desperate for a place to sleep that didn’t smell like bones or breathe like ghosts.

I could’ve stayed, but even then, this place felt like somewhere people disappeared quietly. I’d taken my chances in the dead forest instead. It wasn’t maintained. The Watch didn’t patrol. No one was meant to live out here.

Of course, the Guild fucks would have a base here.

“This way!” I snapped, already turning down a narrow side street.

Val didn’t argue. Xolob didn’t ask.

We ran, but the Guild was closing in from every angle. Boots hitting pavement. Voices rising. They’d followed us out of the tunnel, and there were more outside.

Two figures rounded the corner as we turned through the alley. One with a dagger, the other with a heavy chain.

Val turned on a dime, his first blade catching the chain mid-swing. His second sliced the figure across the throat.

The other lunged toward me, wild and fast with a dagger. A near miss. I felt the sting of Ice burn the top of my forehead as I ducked under the strike, spun, and found his ribs with my own. I pulled it out quickly before he dropped, but there was no time to see if it landed enough to put him out of commission.

“Keep going!” Val barked.

We continued sprinting through the streets and turning down rubble-filled alleys. We were dodging stray Guild members on every corner. The district was a maze of half-fallen structures and narrow alleyways.

The group from the tunnel continued closing in. The distance reduced with every stop or stray recruit we’d have to push out of the way. It felt like they were right on our heels at each turn.

Then a crossbow bolt whistled past my shoulder and thunked into the wall just ahead.

“Shit!” I hissed, diving sideways to dodge another.

Val grabbed Xolob by the collar and yanked them out of the line of fire, picking the goblin up with one arm before setting them back down on the other side of a sharp corner.

I cut again, quickly colliding with a thin figure mid-dash.

I fell to my ass before looking up to find a rusty doorway with a thin, bearded man in front of it. He was half knocked off his feet, blinking in confusion, and trying desperately to hold onto a loaf of bread like it was the only solid thing he owned.

No time.

“Inside!” I shouted, shoving the man aside and yanking an arrow from my quiver.

I turned toward the gangsters and let the arrow fly just as one stepped into view with a crossbow.

He dropped with a sharp yelp.

One less bolt aimed at our backs.

“Go!” I barked, grabbing Xolob’s arm and shoving them hard through the open doorway.

I notched another arrow, sighted a second crossbowman, but Val yanked me inside. He did so just as a bolt screamed past the frame. It ricocheted through the doorway, embedding deep into the wall behind me.

We fell into the room.

Val slammed the door shut behind us and threw the bolt.

The place was small. Lived in. A woman in the kitchen stood frozen, flour dusting her sleeves. A child stared at us from the hearth, eyes wide and silent.

“You’re not safe here,” I said, already moving toward the back of the house. “You need to go. Now.”

The woman didn’t move, stunned, like the air had been knocked out of her.

“They’re coming,” Val snapped. “Xanathar’s Guild. Get out the back door, now!”

The woman jerked into motion, scooping the child up with the instinct of someone who had been through this before.

The thin man spoke fast, pointing, “There’s an alley out back, it cuts toward the woods. We can lose them out there.”

“Perfect,” I said, already throwing the back door open. “Xolob, stick with them. Go!”

The family surged through. Xolob looked back at me, hesitating for a moment.

“Move!” I shouted before pushing him forward in a sprint.

I remained in close step with Xolob, pushing them forward. Val was right behind me, covering the rear as we ran ahead, straight for the line of trees.

Guild enforcers rounded the sides of the house as my foot left the doorway. One skidded into view just long enough for me to drop him with an arrow to the chest. Another charged the family from the flank, but I caught him in the side before he could reach.

“Don't slow down!” I urged the family, turning to shoot at our flanks while maintaining stride.

Even with every arrow finding its mark, there were too many. Boots slamming into the alley. Steel glinting from all sides. I couldn’t reload fast enough. Couldn’t think fast enough.

We’re almost to the trees. We can make it.

That's when I lost the feeling of Val at my back. He was fending off two enforcers as we ran. His blades flashed once, twice, still running, but the attackers wouldn’t let up enough for him to keep pace with me.

That's when it happened. Even for Val, this was too chaotic. There was too much to do, too much to focus on. One of them slipped past his guard. A dagger caught him low in the side, inserting to the hilt, before a crossbow bolt slammed into his opposing shoulder.

He staggered, just about dropping to his knees, when time slowed for me. It ground to a halt just like it did with Eshlyn at the bottom of those stairs.

“Val!” I shouted.

Another shape burst in from the side, ramming into Val’s flank, knocking him to the ground.

“NO!” The sound tore from my lips before I could stop it.

My heartbeat crashed into silence.

He was on the ground. Val was down. I’d lose him like this. I’d lose him.

The thought burned like spikes in my head.

No, no, no. I’d rather it be me. I’d gladly throw myself over him if it meant he’d live.

I took a step toward him, and caught the faint outline of Xolob just behind me as I turned.

Xolob. Behind me. Hobbling. They were injured. Slower than the others. Still with me.

More enforcers poured into the alleyway. They’d reach Val before I could. He was already half-surrounded. I wouldn’t make it in time. I couldn’t save him.

…Not unless someone else took the fall.

My breath hitched.

I turned my head slightly, just enough to see Xolob watching me. Their mouth opened. Their hand lifted. I didn’t know what they were saying. I couldn’t hear.

They trusted me.

I hesitated. Just a second. Just one.

But leaving Val behind was never an option.

No.

No, no, no.

I can’t lose him.

Not after all he’s done. Not after he offered his life to save mine. Not after he carried me out of that tomb, knowing I’d hate him for it.

This was my fault. He was always the last to leave. Always behind me, making sure I’d make it.

No.

My eyes locked on Val, still trying to push himself up with one arm, blood streaking the ground.

I moved. Urgently. Desperately.

Panic swallowed everything else as I grabbed Xolob by the collar, lifting them off the ground with adrenaline-fueled ease.

They gasped. Their eyes widened.

They were yelling something. Pleading? Cursing? I don’t know. I only saw Val.

It’s not fair.

But I love him more.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

I didn’t meet their eyes as I turned, twisting to throw Xolob with everything I had. Right into the enforcers around Val. Right into the Guild.

Their body hit like a crashing weight, knocking the first line to the ground in a snarl of limbs. Behind them, chaos followed. Xolob’s scream cut through the air, terror, betrayal, but It came through muffled in my ears.

The crowd pivoted. Chasing.

I didn’t watch.

Val was clear.

I was on him the moment my hand left Xolob’s body. He was alive, barely upright as I slung his arm over my shoulders and dragged us toward the treeline.

Half carrying him. Half reeling from what I’d just done.

“Remy…” His voice cracked. He stared at me, wide-eyed.

I couldn’t look at him. Not yet.

We ran. Limping. Bleeding.

I didn’t look back.

Not once.