The facades of each brothel along the dark alleyway had red candles or lanterns lit outside their doors, leaving everything glowing with a seductive flair.
Whores with oily hair, dirty fingernails and missing teeth had been brushing their fingers against him, eyeing him up and down like a piece of meat, as he tried to maintain his professionalism and do as he had been commanded.
Yet, nothing had ever made him feel so disgraced as to announce himself to the brothel keepers.
It was the shocking scene he witnessed upon returning to Wesley, however, that had rattled Isec to his core the most.
Ciana, the Blacktree princess and Wesley’s new wife, huddled in a corner of the room, naked, bruised, and bleeding, having been clearly beaten.
Wesley was overly joyous to see the whores as they entered his quarters, leaving little time for Isec to close the door before the prince had started caressing their bodies and removing their clothes.
Isec had no choice but to leave Ciana there, to befall who knew what sort of fate to the questionable behaviours of the prince.
Her eyes were scared and were begging him to take her with him. But doing such a thing against the prince’s orders would have seen huge consequences, possibly even his own execution.
Isec felt he had made a terrible mistake. A mistake he had no power over, yet a mistake that was eating him up inside.
As Isec reached ground level of the tower, he was shocked by the sight and smell of all the soldiers and refugees entering the city. It was far more visceral in person than seeing it from so high up.
Blank expressions, unblinking eyes. Faces, arms and legs painted with soot, ash, and dried blood. Damaged armour, weapons caked in reddish-brown blood, broken spirits.
Children wept as their parents carried them in their arms, the parents appearing overwhelmed with relief to finally be safe.
A beggar from the crowd ran up to the baffled Isec. His hair was singed, and his eyes had a look of sheer desperation.
“Please, please!” the beggar said, grabbing onto Isec’s shoulders. “No one will help me! My family! Where is my family?”
He smelled dreadful and was practically skin and bone, but Isec knew no one had had the time for a wash since fleeing Tellersted.
Isec put aside his disgust at the overwhelmingly putrid body odour and attempted to calm the poor man down. “Now, now, it’s alright, we will-”
“I lost them in the fires!” the beggar cried. His bottom lip quivered.
Isec patted the man’s shoulder, leaning in to help comfort him as he looked around for anyone who could help.
“My girl… my baby girl.”
“Did any of your family make it out of Tellersted? Have any of them arrived here?” Isec asked.
But the beggar was inconsolable. He fell to his knees, weeping and screaming for the daughter he had lost. The beggar clung to Isec’s leg as he sobbed.
Isec let him weep for a moment before leaning down and pointing. “We have people over here who can help you. They will clean you up and help you find your family.”
Isec attempted to lift the man up to his feet but he was a unable to support himself, simply too overcome with grief.
“The rain, the fires. They were so hot! My baby girl… she was burning!”
“It’s alright, take a deep breath.”
“I couldn’t get her out! She was crying for me as the flames took her! B-b-but… I couldn’t get to her.”
A lumin healer, one of the many priests of the Moon Mother who were out among the city streets helping aid and settle the refugees, saw Isec struggling to assist the beggar and rushed over to help. The lumin was like a helpful guardian, wearing white robes and speaking softly to ease the poor man’s suffering.
“We will find your family, don’t you worry. Let’s get you all washed up,” the lumin said reassuringly.
“Please… my baby girl.”
The healer took the beggar’s slouched arm over his shoulders to help him get to one of the many temporary sheltered areas still being set up in the streets.
Isec felt paralysed for a moment as he watched the poor man stagger away with the help of the lumin. He could feel the beggar’s hurt and hear the desperation in his faded voice, yet he could do little to fix the problem for him.
He truly hoped he still had family to find.
Isec looked back at the flood of refugees entering. So many poor souls, just like the beggar, dreary-eyed, exhausted, weeping and in shock.
The returning soldiers did their best to funnel the refugees in and get them food, water, shelter, and medical attention, but they too looked to be just as broken as the people they were trying to help.
Isec had seen that look in their eyes before. A long, blank stare, as if trying to focus on something far away that did not exist. Raised eyebrows, unblinking eyes, sweats, and shaking.
The same affliction had taken some of his guards in the past after experiencing particularly traumatic incidences. It was as if the shock of witnessing the things one man can do to another man simply broke their very soul in two.
Stretchers with the injured were carried through the gate. The wounds were extensive. Lacerations, hideous burns, missing limbs, broken bones, and stab wounds.
Battle wounds. What the fuck happened at that armistice?
The king’s banners appeared from over the sea of soldiers and refugees. Their horses trotted through the city gate at the
