Chronicles From the End of an Age

Refuge - 9Yrs BTA

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There were too many of them. Tired, worn out, and hungry. The relief on their faces as they slowly trickled through the large iron-enforced wooden gates could be seen even from the wall. Exhausted children were dragging their feet behind their stumbling parents. The elderly were being pulled drearily along by wooden carts, eyes dull and lifeless except for the reflection of the many flaming torches that lit their way. Clothes were ripped and ragged. Many were barefoot. In the middle of the line were people carrying stretches, bodies laying upon them wrapped in bandages. It was difficult to tell who was dead and who was alive.

"Do you really think we can house them all?"

The question snapped Syras out of his trance as he turned to face the woman at his side.

"No," he responded with a sigh, "But we don't really have a choice."

She nodded in response, "I'm going to the gate. See if I get can get an explanation."

She turned and marched away, her iron imbued light armour clinking as she walked. Syras watched her go, before turning his gaze back toward the crowd. It made no sense. What would make dragons let go of so many of their slaves? Maybe they had escaped, but even if they did it was such a large group of people that the dragons would have tried to get them back.

He looked to the exit of their cavern, to the blue sky barely visible outside. The roof of the cavern reached high above them. Hundreds of stalactites hung as large ominous spikes, with the occasional one stretching far enough down to reach the ground, creating massive columns that held to roof up. The wall he was currently standing on was made of thick stone slabs, reaching from the ground to the roof. Running along the middle of the wall was a gap with ramparts, large enough for several people to walk abreast, but small enough that only the smallest of dragons would be able to fit through. The wall had protected the hidden city on the other side for millennia, but even Syras knew that should the dragons wish to, they could break through the wall without a second thought. The thousands, possibly millions, of people trickling into the city would only make them a greater target for the creatures out there, to the point where he wondered if he shouldn't turn them away.

"Syras sir!" the summons of one of his soldiers got his notice, "Sir Meriam has asked that you come down to the gate."

He nodded his head, supposing he should get down there to see what had led so many people to his city. He turned away from the ramparts and followed the soldier through a wooden door. The echoes of footsteps as the two descended down a long stone staircase echoed as though there were hundreds of them. He could see the young man leading him constantly glancing back as if slightly concerned of the subtle frown embedded on Syras's face.

They reached the end, and the wooden door was opened, allowing the two through. Ahead of him was a large open space, stretching several hundred metres, before the first few buildings of the city began to appear. Flickering firelight shone like stars amongst the darkness as the new arrivals were led to gather near the natural southern wall. Despite the murmuring and rustling of feet, the place was eerily silent. People were sitting with their backs leaning against rocks, just staring absently at nothing. A woman had just collapsed to the ground and promptly fallen asleep with her head resting against a rock.

Syras walked down the path to the gate. He spotted Meriam talking to one of the new refugees, or at least that's what he first assumed. As he got closer he quickly recognised the man. The silver spear on his back along with the gleaming shield adorned by a white stone was impossible to forget. Syras felt anger bubble in his chest, though he wasn't surprised. There was only one man that could have pulled this all off.