The Ashmere Escape
641 Words
Ashmere had never felt smaller.
Narrow alleys turned to cages. Rooftops whispered with hidden blades. As dawn broke over the smog-laced skyline, the trio moved fast through shadows, their breath fogging in the morning chill.
Lira kept her hood low, her hand on her dagger. Beside her, Cassian’s sharp eyes scanned every corner, every flicker of movement.
Kael walked slightly ahead, silent, but his presence was undeniable—like a sword still sheathed but moments from being drawn.
“They’re already here,” Cassian muttered.
As if summoned, a horn blared in the distance.
The sound cut through the quiet like a wound.
“Alric’s men,” Kael said without turning. “Two units. West gate and eastern wall. He’s boxing us in.”
Lira cursed under her breath. “You said we had more time.”
Cassian’s jaw clenched. “They moved faster than I thought. Someone tipped them off.”
Kael halted abruptly, eyes narrowing at a nearby watchtower.
“I’ll clear the gate,” he said.
Lira stepped in front of him. “By yourself?”
“You can’t draw attention,” Kael said evenly. “I can. Give me ten minutes.”
“That’s suicide.”
Kael’s lips curled. “Not if I want them to follow me.”
He was already moving before she could argue.
Kael sprinted through tight alleys and over crumbling walls until the main road came into view.
The guards were there. Five of them, serpent armor glinting, blades drawn.
Kael didn’t hesitate.
He stepped into the open—and drew his hood back.
A second of silence. Recognition flared.
Then: “That’s the—!”
They never finished.
Kael raised his hand—and fire erupted in a clean, brutal arc, blinding and bright.
Not wild.
Controlled.
It struck the road, shattering stone and sending soldiers flying back. He ran, drawing them after him, a phantom cloaked in flame and smoke.
Let them chase.
Let them remember who he was.
Back on the eastern side, Lira and Cassian slipped through an abandoned tannery, scaling the broken scaffolding that led to the riverbank.
Cassian grunted. “If he doesn’t make it back in time—”
“He will,” Lira snapped, but her voice trembled.
She didn’t know when she’d started believing in Kael again. Maybe it was the fire. Maybe it was the way he still put himself between danger and the rest of them.
Maybe… it was just easier than believing in nothing.
“Boat’s below,” Cassian said, pointing.
A small skiff rocked quietly, tied to a rotting dock post.
They climbed down fast.
But before they could board, a soldier’s shout split the air.
Two sentries had spotted them. Blades drawn.
Cassian moved without hesitation, intercepting one in a blur of steel. Lira ducked the other’s blade, sweeping his legs and slamming her dagger into his side with brutal precision.
It was over in seconds.
Their breathing ragged, they looked up—
Kael was running toward them through the smoke, blood on his sleeve, heat still flickering in his hands.
“Go!” he shouted. “More are coming!”
They leapt onto the boat. Cassian cut the line, and Kael jumped the gap as arrows hissed into the water beside him.
The boat pushed off, river current pulling them into the mist.
They didn’t speak for a long time.
Lira finally broke the silence. “You said you weren’t here to start a rebellion.”
“I’m not,” Kael said.
“Then what do you call this?”
Kael looked down at his burned palms.
“Something that’s already begun.”
As the mist swallowed them, Ashmere disappeared behind them—smoke rising, banners torn, and the serpent crown no longer quite so untouchable.
And beneath Kael’s skin, the storm roared louder than ever.
- Writer
