Phantoms In The Smoke

Alric Varn

A Zadalyn soldier stepped forward, binding rope in hand, reaching for Alric’s wrists. Alric’s eyes were closed; he looked like he’d accepted defeat. But he was listening. Concentrating.

In a blink, Alric’s scimitar, dropped just moments ago, reappeared in his grip, summoned with the very magic Taldris had shown him days ago. Before the guard could react, the blade flashed upward in a clean arc, slicing across his chest. The man staggered back, crying out.

Alric didn’t wait.

He turned and hurled the scimitar like a spear, its polished arc catching the low lantern light, as it streaked toward the commander. The blade struck the commander’s pauldron with enough force to knock him back a step, breaking the stillness like shattering glass.

Chaos erupted.

That was the signal he'd whispered to Taldris moments ago.

He glanced at her as Taldris raised her hand, and a flickering mirage spread like smoke from her fingers. Dozens of shadowed silhouettes shimmered to life, duplicates of the group scattering in all directions, weapons drawn and eyes blazing with false fury. The illusion flooded the room, overwhelming the soldiers’ senses in the span of a heartbeat.

“Kael!” Alric shouted. “The explosive arrows!”

From the catwalk above, Kael didn’t hesitate. His bowstring thrummed, and a glowing, rune-inscribed arrow burst from his grip. Mid-flight, the arrow split into three, each tipped with explosive arcane charges. They struck the far crates with a deafening blast, fire and debris roaring outward as the shockwave knocked several guards off their feet.

Smoke clouded the storehouse. Screams rang out.

“Move!” Alric barked, rushing to Brina’s side and gently pushing her aside. “Go, I’ve got him!”

He hoisted Caelen over his shoulder, the wounded man groaning but conscious, and Taldris moved to his other side, one arm clutched over her ribs where she’d been struck earlier. She didn’t complain, but Alric could see the strain behind her eyes from casting such a large illusion.

Brina trailed close behind, her hand pressed tightly over her satchel of salves and bandages, breath shallow from the sprint. She glanced back once, then again, worried, but silent.

The flickering silhouettes of Taldris’s illusion danced along the walls and alley edges as they fled through the shadowed streets, but they were starting to thin, flicker, and blur. Alric could feel the magic faltering. He spared a glance at Taldris. Her jaw was clenched, her steps slowing, her breathing shallow.

“The illusion is fading,” Alric muttered, shifting Caelen again.

“I’m fine,” Taldris lied, even as she stumbled slightly over a broken cobble.

A few more steps, and the last of the phantoms vanished, blinking out like dying stars. The street fell back into silence, too much silence. They’d bought time, not safety.

Then Kael dropped from a rooftop beside them, boots hitting stone with a practiced thud. “You have a flair for timing,” Alric said between breaths.

“Back door was blocked,” Kael panted, slinging his bow across his back. “Went up and over. You’re welcome.”

Alric didn’t reply. He didn’t need to.

Behind them, shouting. The ring of boots and steel. The soldiers were coming.

“Left!” Alric barked, and they veered into a narrow lane, Caelen’s weight dragging at his shoulder like an anchor. The night swallowed them whole, torchlight chasing behind.

The alley narrowed, damp and crooked, hemmed in by leaning stone walls and sagging overhangs. Alric’s boots pounded against the uneven ground, every step jarring Caelen’s weight on his shoulder. His lungs burned, his limbs screamed, but he didn’t stop.

“Keep going,” he growled to the others. “Don’t stop unless I do.”

Brina surged ahead to scout the next turn, cloak snapping behind her like a shadow. Taldris stumbled once more, catching herself against the alley wall with a hiss of pain.

Alric turned his head. The sound of pursuit was growing louder, armored boots slamming against the stone, the bark of shouted orders.

Kael dropped back, pulling an arrow and twisting a small vial into the notch just beneath its head. “I’ll slow them down.”

“Don’t get clever,” Alric warned, but Kael was already gone, vaulting up a stack of crates and disappearing onto a low roof, almost with the grace of a cat.

They rounded a corner just as a trio of guards appeared behind them. One raised a crossbow.

“Down!” Alric shouted.

He dropped low, shielding Caelen’s body with his own just as a bolt hissed overhead and thunked into the brick. Taldris turned and flicked a hand, a quick illusion flaring to life, just a flash, the image of them turning right when they had turned left.

A heartbeat later, Kael’s arrow found its mark behind them. A sharp explosion rang out, followed by the soldiers shouting in confusion.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Alric used the moment, muscles burning, pushing forward with renewed force. “One more block,” he said, more to himself than anyone else.

Brina had reached a rusted iron gate at the alley’s end. She yanked it open and waved them through. “Here, old wine cellar!”

They ducked through the arch, Taldris nearly collapsing as she cleared the threshold. Kael slipped in behind them, slamming the gate shut and dragging a broken beam across it for a makeshift lock.

Silence fell again. The dark pressed in, cold and close.

Alric lowered Caelen to the floor as gently as he could. Brina was already beside him, tearing open her satchel. Taldris leaned back against the stone wall, pale and trembling, her eyes flickering faintly with magic exhaustion.

"We can't go out for a while," Kael slid down beside a barrel, breathing hard. “They’ll be circling for us now.”

Alric didn’t respond immediately. He glanced around the cellar, low-ceilinged, mold-slick, empty except for broken crates and old tools. A dead end, but for now, it would have to do.

“We need to rest. Just for a moment,” Alric said finally. His hands were still shaking. “Then we find a new way out.”

“So much for keeping a low profile,” Kael muttered, his voice sharp with frustration as he sank against a barrel. He spat a few choice curses under his breath, wiping soot from his face.

Alric dropped to one knee beside Caelen. "Don't die on me now." Brina was already crouched over him, her hands glowing with that soft, muted gold he’d come to associate with her healing spells. Her brow was furrowed, her expression tight with focus.

“He’ll live,” she said after a long moment, her voice steady but strained. “The blade missed anything vital. But he’s lost a lot of blood. He won’t be fighting or walking anytime soon. He needs rest. Days of it.”

Alric exhaled, tension bleeding from his shoulders. “Good,” he murmured. “That’s good.”

Kael scoffed lightly from the shadows. “Is it? Because I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but everything’s gone to hell. We lost our cover. Half the guard knows our faces now. Zadale’s crawling, and we barely made it out with Caelen in one piece.”

There was a long silence. The only sounds were Caelen’s shallow breathing and the distant echo of bootsteps, still searching the streets above.

Brina looked up. “Maybe we should fall back. Lay low. We’re not ready for this, Alric. Too much has gone wrong in too little time.”

Taldris stirred beside the wall, her voice hoarse. “They knew where we were. That doesn’t happen by chance.”

Kael added, “We keep pushing, and someone’s going to die. We still have time to cut our losses and disappear.”

Alric looked around at them, their faces exhausted, their clothes torn and bloodstained, their mission unraveling thread by thread.

But he shook his head.

“No,” he said quietly. “We don’t walk away now.”

Kael straightened slightly. “Are you serious?”

“We knew this wouldn’t be clean,” Alric said. “We knew it’d be dangerous. But we’re closer than we’ve ever been. They attacked us because they’re hiding something. And we rattled them. That’s proof we’re on the right trail.”

He glanced down at Caelen, unconscious but breathing. “We’ve all bled for this already. I’m not letting that be for nothing.”

There was a silence, heavy and charged.

Alric noticed how quiet Taldris had become, her eyes distant and sharp, as if she were silently calculating what to do now.

Alric stood, eyes dark and resolute. “We regroup. Find a safer place to hole up. We can let Caelen recover there, while we go after the shipment Kael mentioned, northbound, two days from now. Whatever they’re moving, it’s connected. If we can sabotage it or gather proof of what Zadale’s building is, that’s our exit point.”

Kael muttered something under his breath, but didn’t protest.

“Two days,” Alric said, his voice firm. “That’s how long we'll stay in this wretched city. Then we vanish.”

Brina leaned back, cradling Caelen’s head gently in her lap. “Then we'd better disappear before morning. Find a safer place.”

And in the quiet, flickering dark of the cellar, Alric set his jaw.

They weren’t done. Not yet.

“I’ll go,” Alric said, rising to his feet and slinging his cloak over one shoulder. “We need to find a place before dawn. Something off the streets, off the maps.”

“I’ll come too,” Taldris offered, her voice quiet but steady. “We’ll cover more ground that way.”

Alric gave a nod. “We keep to the shadows. No lanterns, no attention. If either of us finds something, we circle back here.”

He turned toward Kael and Brina. “Stay with him. If the guards track us here, don’t wait. Move.”

Kael crossed his arms, scowling. “You’re assuming we’ll just sit here twiddling our thumbs?”

Alric gave him a look. “No. I’m assuming you’ll be ready.”

Kael huffed. “Fine. But if you’re not back in two hours, I’m coming to find you.”

Alric managed the faintest smile before stepping toward the cellar stairs, Taldris falling into step beside him. Behind them, Brina whispered softly, casting another healing weave over Caelen’s chest as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

The door creaked softly as Taldris and Alric slipped out into the night. The streets of Zadale lay before them, cloaked in mist and shadow.

“It’s quiet,” Alric muttered, eyes scanning the intersection ahead.

Taldris adjusted the edge of her hood, brushing damp hair from her cheek. “They should be out hunting us. After that kind of fight? They’d normally sweep the entire district.”

Alric nodded slowly. “Maybe they don’t want to risk unrest. Zadale’s already cracking at the edges. They can’t afford riots. Not while they’re at war.”

Taldris was quiet for a beat, then said, “Even so… it doesn’t sit right.”

He looked over. “What doesn’t?”

“I checked before I came back to the safehouse,” she said, her voice low. “Took three different turns. No one followed me. I was sure of it. And yet… they found us.”

Alric frowned. “You think it wasn’t just a lucky sweep?”

She shook her head. “It felt too precise. Like they already knew where we were. Like they didn’t need to search.”

A gust of wind fluttered a loose sign across the street. The city beyond loomed, silent and watching.

“You’re saying someone told them?” Alric asked.

Taldris met his eyes. “Someone might have let it slip… or we might have a spy amongst us.”

"Let's keep that idea between us for now," Alric said, voice low but firm. "No need to stir more panic until we’re sure.”

Taldris gave a small nod, pulling her cloak tighter as they moved back into the street.

They kept to the edges of the alleys, weaving through shadow and silence. Every corner was approached with caution, every window checked. The city felt different tonight, draped in an unnatural stillness, like it too was holding its breath. A city waiting for something.

They passed two shuttered taverns, a locked granary, and what might’ve once been a schoolhouse, now gutted by age and neglect. None felt secure. Too open. Too obvious. Too close to where they'd been.

Eventually, after crossing a crumbling bridge near the old artisan quarter, they came upon a storage cellar nestled between two burnt-out buildings. A small courtyard shielded the entrance from the street, overgrown with vines and half-covered in ash. The cellar door was crooked on its hinges, but sturdy.

Alric pushed it open, the wood groaning softly. Inside, it smelled of dust and old earth. But it was dry. Low. Tucked away. Forgotten.

He swept the corners, checking for vermin or squatters. Nothing. Just old shelves, a few collapsed crates, and silence.

Taldris stepped in behind him, her eyes scanning the ceiling beams. “This will do.”

“It’s not perfect,” Alric said, “but it’s far enough. No clear line of sight from the main roads. Even if they’re watching the old hideout, we’ll be out of their net here.”

They exchanged a look, tired, wary, but resolved.

“Let’s go get the others,” he said, "We can plan our attack on the shipment tomorrow."