Be prepared for the show

As they agreed, Zuline modified Jäwell's shadow to prevent the undead from taking him as a target. Inspiring fear in every night creature that would cross his path, he would be safe from them, which was not the case for Sarin. 

On their journey to Akshren, they were attacked no less than seven times. Jäwell and Sarin were exhausted before they even joined the outside wall of the city. They had to progress slowly, and by night, to not be taken by surprise when the undead were active. 

When they reached the main bridge to reach the city, they had to take a boat to cross the river and make a detour to be able to avoid the massive column of creatures. The little barge was threatening to sink any moment as Jäwell and Sarin paddled discreetly in the night. Looking at the creatures from a distance. 

There were an incredible number of them. Archanium had built a massive army for centuries without anyone noticing it, as Zuline said, Thurisaz didn't see it, 'somehow' blinded by Archanium's powers. It was known that the Jessadians were not loyal to Jäwell or Archanium, but they were loyal to the people. Thurisaz, being the leader of the main tribe, had the absolute priority to preserve their neutrality. Especially after Zuline's implications in the war for the Ombrae. 

There were little doubts left that Thurisaz turned a blind eye on purpose, letting Archanium maneuver as he wanted without restraints. Jäwell was not a defender of humankind, he would have never cared normally. His eyes were wandering on the creatures, his people, used by his enemy. 

He lowered his gaze and saw Sarin in front of him in this barge. Jäwell had made a choice, he had chosen to save humans, and for what? For seven men who have changed his original purpose and convinced him to care for something more than his desire to fight and risk his life. 

Sarin had a grave expression on his face. The situation was extremely complicated, the others were in immediate danger. Yet, when his eyes crossed Jäwell's, Sarin started to smile. Hope was sparkling in his eyes, he believed in him, and Jäwell needed it. This simple interaction with a simple human. Someone who didn't live for a hundred or thousand years, someone who was able to see the short life that was given and enjoy every second of it. Sarin was responsible, careful, thoughtful, and incredibly honest. Jäwell often disagreed with him, but in the end, it didn't truly matter. 

The barge touched the other side of the land, and they quickly sheltered behind a bush. A little group of undead was near them but didn't spot them. 

"We are close to the outside wall. We should arrive in about two hours or three at this rhythm." Sarin whispered, but Jäwell was much less convinced. 

He looked around with a worried expression, the path was almost clear and if they were cautious they could have passed discreetly. When Sarin was about to make a move, Jäwell stopped him, holding his arm firmly and shaking his head in silence.

Sarin didn't understand his hesitation, he was about to ask questions, but Jäwell placed a finger on his lips to shut him up. Jäwell never had been so tense, during the years of battles they shared, Sarin never saw him sweating. 

They stayed in silence, immobile, behind the little bush. The hours passed and Jäwell was almost trembling. Sarin didn't insist and followed his lead, not understanding the situation. He simply sat and waited, understanding that Jäwell was waiting for the daylight to come. When the morning came, ending this long and confusing night, the undead started to shelter in the ground, which was now turned to a kind of snowy sand and muddy from multiple undetermined fluids. 

Sarin suddenly felt something moving above his head. He looked up and saw what Jäwell was afraid of during the whole night. All this time, there was a unique kind of undead. It was formed with multiple elements, delivering a vision of horror Sarin would have never even imagined seeing in his life. The creature was made of an elephant's back legs, the chest of a gorilla, human arms, and the head of a hyena. It moved slowly a few centimeters from them to go to find shelter with the other undead, as it walked, Sarin could see it closer. What he thought were shades of shadows in the remains of the obscurity were in reality faces, human faces. They all had the same pained expression as if they were screaming. 

Sarin froze completely while looking at it. The thing dug a hole to join the underground galleries and was not visible anymore, but Sarin was still unable to move. His voice was a trembling whisper and his eyes were tearing up, "This was next to us all night."

Jäwell simply nodded and helped him to stand up, "We have to join the wall and the Razgons to see how the situation is and what can still be done."

Sarin took his hand and walked with him, his legs numb from the panic attack. He wanted to erase what he had seen more than anything, and the last kilometer before joining the Razgons was one of the longest of his life. 

Then, they arrived, and the camp in front of them was empty. Sarin first rejoiced as he thought the city opened the gate to shelter the refugees. He ran to the largest tent, thinking it was the one where strategic operations would have been decided. He was expecting to find nothing. Proof that they would have left after taking their belongings. What was his surprise when he opened the tent to find that everything had been ravaged? 

Jäwell joined him quickly, "Sarin, how long have I been asleep?"

"It was two months," Sarin said, almost breaking at this point. His legs could not carry him anymore, and he fell to his knees. His arms along his body, hanging to the floor without any sense of life, "It was just two months, I promised them I would come back with you, and we would find a solution."

Jäwell placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, "There is nothing here anymore, we better leave."

With this new realization, they walked through the camp with a completely different point of view. The calm that sounded so peaceful and reassuring was now charged with death and pain. 

"They never left, none of them," Sarin breathed as he spotted a discreet hole in the sand leading to the undead galleries. 

Jäwell didn't answer, he could feel a rage inside him as Zuline trapped him and prevented him from fighting, but judging the legions of dead they had crossed and the modified creatures walking with them, it was clear that she had been right. Fighting them would have been only suicide. There would have been no honor in dying like this, it was not a battle. It was a giant stone rolling and crushing everything in its path. 

Sarin and Jäwell used a secret path they knew and joined the city discreetly. Hiding their faces and identities, it was easy for them to melt into the population after all the time they had lived amongst these people. 

Inside the walls, the atmosphere was completely different. It was almost as if nothing was happening outside. People were living peacefully, as usual, ignoring the menace that was about to kill them all. Sarin and Jäwell hid in the crowd and eventually joined the tavern they were used to frequent before they left to join the enemy side. 

The owner recognized them immediately and opened a room upstairs for them. They followed him and the man closed the door behind them after entering. In an impulse, he grabbed Sarin and Jäwell in his arms and embraced them in a fatherly way.

"Boys, you made it alive," He managed to pronounce between tears of relief. 

"Thanks for hiding us, Aurelius. Do you know what is happening outside?" Jäwell took the initiative to speak as Sarin was still shocked by the recent discoveries. 

The man nodded in desperation, "I know. Urak came to find me and explained to me the situation. He had found a smuggler to pass people secretly from the port of Akshren to Civitas."

"How many did you save?" Sarin asked, full of hope, but the reaction of the inn owner was not what he expected. The man was marked by sadness.

"Only a hundred."

It was better than nothing, but it was insufficient. The Razgon had a population of a few thousand people. Even if half of them died on the first attacks and during the journey, the loss at the wall of the city was still enormous. Sarin tightened his fist, but Aurelius didn't finish, and the worst was to come.

"The boys were not here during the last assault… Rahir took his family to a boat a week ago, but they were captured by the guard when the boys were about to go back to the camp."

"Where are they?" Jäwell asked, suddenly worried.

Aurelius spoke in a dark tone, in a cold voice that froze the blood of everyone in the room.

"They have been judged for their desertion. They are in the central prison and about to be transferred to the arena for their execution. People are celebrating the spectacle to come in the city center."