Closed.

Dhea pushed herself away from the guards, her fingers curled behind her back. She didn’t have the means to charge them and she wanted to save her energy. Using it up now would only make her task more difficult.

Her only other option was to wait.
 
The guards left quickly, without any words, leaving one of their number to stand in the hallway on the other side of the doors. There was a click and the doors closed again. The Elf pushed himself up and walked over to Dhea. "Now would be our chance." Then he looked down at the bowl of greenish stew. "Don't eat that." He warned her.

Dhea did have her supplies with her still, as the Red-eyes did not bother to take away her pack. Or at least they did not got to doing that yet. The Elf did not have any possessions.

- Cast a spell on the doors.
- Pick the lock.
- Ask the Elf if he can unlock the doors.
 
Dhea scooted over to the door, squinting. She pressed her palm to the lock, hoping that they couldn’t sense magic being used. She focused and cast a spell to unlock the door.
 
She murmured the lines of her spell and as she finished, there was a tiny click - the sound of a lock tumbler falling over. The Elf nodded in approval, steadying himself by holding to the wall. The guard outside had his back turned and did not look like he noticed anything.

- Run him through.
- Put the bowl of stew over his head.
- Cast a spell.
- Run.
 
Dhea apologised wordlessly as she took her dagger and ran the guard through. She even covered his mouth to make sure he wouldn’t scream or alert any of the other guards.
 
She covered the guard's mouth, but she did not cover his eyes. They were wide open in surprise now and the blast of fire out of those two gaping red holes was terrible to behold. The doors on the opposite of the guard burst in flames. The fire singed Dhea's hand over the guard's mouth leaving a terrible burn, flesh instantly reddening and blistering.

The whole hallway was lit up by the blast and even as the guard dropped down on the ground, eyes closing in death, there were echoes of rushed footsteps on the left side of the hallway. More guard were coming after them.

"Run!" The Elf brushed past her, grabbing her injured hand and making her wince in pain. "It would only take one look!" He hauled her off quickly, though he let go of her soon, taking ragged breaths and struggling to keep up.

- Run.
- Fight.
 
Dhea grabbed the Elf, pushing him in front of her and ignoring the pain in her injured hand. It was unimportant then and there. It could be dealt with when she had Ruven and all three of them were out of there, alive.
 
They ran through the corridor, with the pursuit close behind them. The Elf struggled and slowed Dhea down. The pursuers only had to round a corner and they would be onto them.

"Dhea!" Ruven's voice called her from the right. She turned around to see the Elvin behind barred doors, the look in his eyes desperate. The guards were getting closer.

- Help Ruven.
- Leave Ruven.
 
Dhea didn’t even hestitate as she ran towards his cell and cast the spell to unlock it. She would get them all out alive.
And...she couldn’t leave behind Ruven. Even the thought of it hurt her.
 
"We've got no time." The Elf called when she stopped, only a couple of steps ahead.

The Red-eye guards were just around the corner. The tumbler of Ruven's barred cell doors clicked and they opened. That was when the flame hit them. Ruven exclaimed in pain, holding his left hand, the sleeve of his tunic completely burned down.

"That one will hypnotise you!" The Elf said, pointing to one of the guards, who kept his eyes closed still.

More fire erupted around them and the Elf was already turning to continue running. But could not outrun all of them, especially when the guards only needed to open their eyes to burn them down completely or knock them out cold, which they seemed to favour. Ruven stepped in front of Dhea protectively, covering her body in the small hallway.

"Go." He said, teeth clenched, as he unsheathed his sword. "Hurry!"

Staying in that hallway meant certain death for Dhea. Or capture, from which she would not be able to escape now that the guards learned about her sorcery.

- Run.
 
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Everything seemed to blur and become muffled as she looked at Ruven, a singular tear slipping down her cheek. This person, this man she had cared for...he was willing to die for her. She didn’t understand why, she didn’t think she was worth that right now.
She was going to lose him.

And in that moment, Dhea realised something.
“I love you.”
And tears streamed down her cheeks, slipping between her lips. Of course it’d happen then. For her to realise what she felt the moment she was going to lose him.

“I’m so sorry....”
Dhea touched the small of his back as she turned to run, her chest burning and throat aching with the force of her pain. She loved him.
And she would never see him again.

She wished things could be different.
 
"I know." Ruven smiled, looking at her over his shoulder, a small smile on his lips. "I have cherished every moment we've shared, even though our time together was short. Go." He turned away then, facing the oncoming Red-eyes. "I love you as well." It was a whisper.

Dhea did not see the flames that rose behind her, she could only feel their heat.

--

They raced through the corridors of the dungeon. The Elf's breathing was ragged and he struggled to keep up, but still the promise of escape kept him going. Soon enough they were out of the dungeons and into the courtyard. They emerged onto a quiet side street, beginning to weave and duck through the alleyways.

The Elf, weak from his long stay in the tiny cell, could barely keep up with Dhea, but was filled with such joy to be free that despite everything there was a smile on his face even as he tripped and stumbled.

The guards did not follow them. Ruven had stalled them enough to give Dhea a chance to get away.

Quite suddenly they emerged onto a square filled with people. On the other side of the square, the main road continued on through a low arch. A thousand other alleyways led off in all directions into Upper Khare.

hyun-ho-park-4.jpg

- Explore the square.
- Sit on a bench and rest.
 
Dhea was alive, but she wasn’t smiling. She was aching, she was still reeling from what had happened the prison. It wouldn’t heal easily, not yet.
She shakily made it to a bench, and started sobbing into her hands. She couldn’t go any further, not like this.

Dhea’s shoulders shook, her breathing ragged. She radiated grief and pain.

After a few minutes of her crying, the tears turned dry and all that was left was a numb expression on her face.
Everything could wait for a little while longer.
 
"I'm so sorry." The Elven prisoner approached her, sitting next to her and putting a pale hand on her shoulder in comfort. He looked he might speak again, but then he closed his mouth, looking away, not finding the right words.

After a couple of silent moments the Elf spoke again. "This is Fireview Square. I used to have a home here. I don't know if it's still standing, but I'd like to see it." He said, standing up to walk across the square to the rows of houses on the right side. Midway he turned around to look at Dhea. "Would you like to join me? If my house is still there, I think we'd both use some tea."

- Go with him.
- Don't go.
 
Dhea didn’t even react when the nameless Elf put his hand on her shoulder, or even apologised for something that wasn’t his fault. He already seemed to be a very kind person, which she could respect.
But even his empathy wasn’t enough right then.

Dhea looked up at him, before wiping her cheeks and standing. Tea sounded like a good idea. She needed something to calm her down.
“That’d be...nice, thank you.”
As she walked up to him, in a small and hoarse voice, she asked him:
“What is your name?”
 
The Elf stopped and waited for her to walk up to him, before answering. "I do owe you." He said, then leaned toward her with a confidential whisper. "Xirin."

Dhea remembered that Xirin was the name written on one of the chairs of the Nobles in the Council chamber. Rhain had thought all of them dead or driven away by the First Noble. If this Elf was indeed one of the Nobles, he could have useful information about Khare and the North Gate.

He had already turned around, motioning for her to follow. They went into a cobbled alley and sneaked past a couple of houses, with Xirin carefully looking around each corner, like a fugitive he was. Finally he made a stop in front of a lavishly looking, though a bit run down, house.

"Ah, it's still there." The Elf beamed, a hopeful look lighting up his face.

- Go in first.
- Let Xirin go in first.
- Cast a spell.
 
Dhea stood back, looking up at the house. It was beautiful and the inside was likely very luxurious, but it was Xirin’s home. It seemed rude and presumptuous to go in first.
She waited a little behind him, but she did try and cast a sense danger spell.

It was always better to be safe in this situation.
 
"Well, let's hope that there are no looters inside." Xirin said with sigh as he walked up the wooden stairs to the perch. He produced a small brass key out of the pocket of his tunic and unlocked the doors.

They were greeted by nothing but dust. The house was empty and nothing looked out of the ordinary. In fact there were plates with rotten food on the dining table, a burnt down candle and potted flowers that have dried out in the living room. It looked like the residents of the house just left in the middle of their meal. Xirin covered his nose as he went to throw out the spoiled food. He had a newfound perk in his footstep and generally looked to be in a much better mood.

"Let's see, where did I put it." He rummaged through the cabinets in the kitchen, searching for something. "Ah, here." He produced a small jar with dried herbs. "Tea." He explained with a smile.

In the next couple of moments he had lit the fire in the fireplace of the living room and put a pot over it to be boiled for tea. He arranged the cups and even found some, very dry, cookies in the pantry. Dhea could barely keep up with his movements, he would walk in and out of the room without stopping. In general, he was a completely different man than prisoner Number Six. As the tea brewed, Xirin had sat in an armchair in front of the fireplace, taking a deep breath, resting his, still tired, body. There was an idential armchair next to him to which he indicated for Dhea to sit at.

"Well, my servants are not here. I'm sure they have taken some valuables, though most of the things are in the same place. That's good. But, I'm gonna have to leave Khare soon." He spoke, more to himself than to the Dhea.

- Ask about his imprisonment.
- Ask about the Nobles.
- Ask about the North Gate.
 
Dhea settled into the armchair, her fingers toying at the belts on her armour. She wasn’t used to this, to the house and the way she was feeling. When he stopped speaking, she rested her tongue between her teeth in thought. There was likely not much to tell her, but there was always chance she could find something new.
“I want to learn more about Khare.”
She paused and corrected herself.
“I need to learn more about Khare.”
 
"Ah, there is not much to say." The Elf spoke, gazing into the fire. "Khare is a pirate city, despite what anyone says. It will always be a city of thugs, cheats and killers. Us, Nobles, we were some sort of a law, though we fought amongst each other in our pretty halls the same as the pirates did on the streets. Now, finally everything went to hell. My friends, my enemies, all the Nobles are gone. It was Sansas, I'm sure of it. He was acting strange for a whole year, we all have noticed it. We should not have let him stay in his throne." He gritted his teeth, taking a moment of silence, before turning to Dhea. "You can't get out of Khare now, you know. Now that all of my colleagues are scattered, there is no way to gather all of the spell lines. And you will need four of them to open the North Gate. Unless you want to go south, into the Shamutanti." His eyes scanned her over. "But you look like you are moving North with purpose."

- Ask about the lines.
- Ask if he knows any lines.
- Ask about north of Khare.
- Ask something else.
 
Dhea has watched him carefully. She thought about what to ask him next, and her ears instanstly perked when he spoke about the spell lines. She even leant forward somewhat, her gaze focused on his face.
When he stopped talking, her lips curled into a sardonic smile, before she spoke.
“I knew it wouldn’t be that bloody easy.”
She sighed and leaned back, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose.
“What are the lines? Do you know where any of them are?”
 
"The lines of the spell. Four of my friends knew them. I'm sure that all of them are dead or captured by now." Xirin answered, the expression on his face pained. "If Lorag was here, he would be able to help you better. He is one miserable gentleman, but he knows everything about everything. Or at least... he used to know." He stood up to take the pot from the fire and pour hot tea into the cups, handing one over to Dhea. It smelled like mint. "I know but a small fragment of the spell, it is just one half of one line." He cleared his throat, leaning into the armchair again. "With Courga's grace." He recited, then turned to look at Dhea with a small shrug. "That's all I know, I'm afraid. But, if you are intent on finding out more, there's your clue. Courga is a god worshipped in Khare. His temple is south and east from here. You'd have to go through the cemetery to reach it, though, and be careful around there. The citizens of Khare are never at peace, even when they are dead."

Dhea had just learned half a line of the North Gate spell. She would need to learn the other half of it and find three more if she wanted to eventually leave Khare. She had two clues where to find them. One given by Rhain, to find Lorag south of the Red Quarter. And the other given by Xirin to find the temple of Courga.

- Ask about Lorag.
- Ask about Courga.
- Ask something else.
- Drink the tea in silence.
 
Dhea looked into the tea, her fingers gripping the cup gently. She repeated the words in her brain, ingraining them there.
She definitely needed them, more than she needed a lot of things.

She sipped at the tea, before looking back up at Xirin. She had a plethora of questions, definitely regarding the current subject.
“I’m curious about Lorag. Could you tell me some more about him?”
She looked at the cup again, before smiling.
“Thank you for the tea.”
 
"Lorag is my only true friend in Khare. Was. He was a scholar, quite different from the rest of the residents of Khare." He stood up from the armchair, leaving the cup on the mantelpiece. "His home is south of the square. Perhaps one of his servants would be able to tell you something more. Well, I'm gonna rest. You are welcome to stay here for however long you would like, though I don't recommend to linger too long. I'm sure that Sansas's goons will seek me out here soon. It would be better for you not to be here then. I know I don't intend to."

- Go explore.
- Stay and rest.
 
Dhea watched the Elf, again. Her attention was solely on him, on his words. It was the only thing she had to focus on. She was also tired, weary from her grief and her pain. Running for her life also made her feel drained, as it would.

“I think I’d like to rest...thank you.”
Dhea smiled up at him, before standing and resting her own cup upon the mantlepiece.
 
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