The crimson hue of the blood moon cast an eerie glow over DEMA, painting the city of neon lights in shades of red. The air was thick with tension, the kind that sat in Miguel's chest like a weight, suffocating. The streets were unusually silent, but it was the kind of silence that hummed with danger, as though the city itself was watching.
Miguel crouched behind a crumbling wall at the edge of the Artisan District, his eyes fixed on the looming High Tower where Keons waited. He had made sure that no one else came with him. The less people that were here, the easier it would be to sneak out of DEMA.
The tiger-bishop had kept his word: when the moon turned to blood, it was time to leave. But nothing about this escape felt certain. No plan ever worked in DEMA. Every plan needed improvisation in this city.
Keons' voice echoed in Miguel's mind, the last prophecy he'd whispered before the escape: "From your bloodline, the flame that devours shall ignite, and when the beast bows to its master, the city of lights will fall."
Miguel tightened his grip on the dagger in his hand, though he knew it wouldn't do much against the city's ever-watchful guards. His heart pounded in his chest as he glanced toward the shadowed alley where he'd signaled Keons to meet him. He could see Ni'lls perched on the High Tower, watching the sleeping city. If this went wrong, he would risk being Converted again. He sucked in a breath, slowly exhaling it. His plan wouldn't fail. It couldn't.
Footsteps approached, deliberate but hushed, the sound too light to belong to a patrol. Miguel's eyes slowly rolled to where he heard the foosteps coming from. From the darkness, Keons emerged, his tiger-like features shadowed by the red light above. His eyes, usually fierce and sharp, now glowed faintly with resolve.
"It's time," Keons growled quietly, his voice low and measured. His tail was twitching a bit, and his ears were flicking left and right, as if he was trying to hear for something following him.
Miguel nodded, his own heart pounding. "You ready for this?" He remembered all the nights he had talked to Keons, and Keons had given him prophecies and warnings he had seen. Miguel had forgotten how important being a Lorekeeper was.
Keons huffed, the hint of a smile curling on his lips. "I've been ready for decades."
They moved swiftly, hugging the walls as they made their way through DEMA's labyrinthine streets. Each corner they turned brought with it the threat of exposure. Sentinel patrols were out in force, their heavy boots echoing against the cobblestone streets. Miguel's breath caught in his throat as a group passed nearby, the heavy shadows of the bishops' soldiers cutting through the moonlight.
Keons' large frame moved with surprising stealth for a creature of his size. His fur bristled slightly under the tension, but he followed Miguel's lead, trusting him entirely. They continued, slipping between shadows and weaving through narrow passages until they reached the edge of the city. Despite Keons' large size, he moved with such grace.
The exit loomed ahead—a grated sewer drain that Miguel had unlocked earlier. They could hear the faint trickle of water from beneath, but it was their only way out without being seen. Keons knelt beside the opening, his eyes reflecting the blood moon as he peered back at the towering structures of DEMA. He peered into the opening, his ears pinning tightly to his head.
"Go," Miguel urged. "I'll follow."
Keons hesitated for just a moment, then slid into the tunnel. Miguel followed, pulling the grate back into place behind him. He stared back at the sleeping city, and he turned back to follow after Keons.
The tunnels were dark and damp, the stench almost unbearable. They sloshed through the shallow water, every sound magnified by the echoing walls. The further they went, the less light filtered down from the surface. Miguel's mind raced with thoughts of what would happen if they were caught.
A sudden hiss of air cut through the tunnel, and Miguel's heart jumped into his throat. He froze, listening. From the darkness, a patrol of the bishops' elite guards emerged, their glowing eyes piercing the gloom. Miguel's breath hitched.
They'd been found.
"The last thing I expected was for the Bandito Leader to be smuggling out a bishop." One of the Sentinels sneered, pointing his spear at them. "The bishops will love to see you again, Clancy."
Miguel swallowed thickly, staring at the guards. He widened his stance, already prepared to run. He wouldn't go back. He'd rather die than go back there.
Keons stepped forward, his massive form blocking Miguel. A low growl rumbled from his chest. "You were warned not to cross me."
The guards hesitated for only a second, but in that second, Keons struck. His claws tore through the air, and before they knew it, the guards were down, collapsed in a heap against the stone walls.
Miguel's pulse hammered in his ears. "Come on. We need to go."
Keons nodded, shaking off the encounter, and they pushed forward, faster this time, with the weight of discovery pressing down on them.
Finally, after what felt like hours, they reached the outskirts of DEMA, the city lights now distant and hazy behind them. They stood on the edge of the Walstara Mountains, the blood moon hanging low over the horizon.
Keons turned to Miguel, his voice softer than before. "You've done what no one else could. My debt to you runs deep."
Miguel looked out at the blood moon and then back at Keons, who now stood free from the chains of DEMA. "You're free now, but this doesn't end here. We still have a fight ahead of us."
Keons' eyes glowed faintly as he nodded. "And when the time comes, I will stand with you. But remember, Miguel—your kin of kin will be the one to destroy DEMA. This, I have seen."
Miguel watched as the tiger-bishop slipped away into the brush, and he felt a bit of grief rush through him. He would miss the bishop and his eccentric talks.
'You are disrupting the balance, Miguel. You will be DEMA's downfall.' Loki's voice echoed through his head.
"Shut up." Miguel muttered, shaking his head before turning and beginning to make his way towards the Bandito camp. He found his way there, and he pushed his way into the camp, being greeted by the Banditos looking over at him.
"Miguel!" Lara's voice echoed as she ran towards him, hugging him tightly.
Miguel closed his eyes, clutching Lara close to his chest. "I'm okay." He whispered. "I got him out." He pressed a kiss to Lara's forehead.
"What do we do now?" Lara asked, looking up at Miguel.
"We get ready for war." Miguel said.
YOU ARE READING
Only Skeletons Remain
Fanfiction"There will be Three, kin of your kin, who hold the power to reshape the world and defy the shadows." Only Skeletons Remain follows the intertwined stories of three generations bound by the oppressive grip of DEMA, a city of neon lights and despair...
