You had been aiming for his throat, but he’d just finished shoving that fat thing into your mouth. It sliced cleanly away, splattering hot against your hand and your blade. The screaming had given you time to run. You’re still running.

You’re not sure where to though. It’s darker than before, the only light coming from that lantern behind you. They haven’t lost you, and they’re keeping good pace. Bastards. You feel a flash of warm anger fill your chest. Something in the distance catches your eye, it almost looks like a cave? An archway? The curve of it blocks out most of the moon, leaving only a sliver of it beckoning you as it hangs low in the sky.

You turn off the flat earth down a bank towards it, sliding down on your heels. You stumble unsteady on your feet but keep some momentum. You hear a muttering of confused voices, the lantern’s light wobbles violently as they try to see where you’re going.

The curve of the moon pulls you in, the cool light much better than the orange red glare. Comforting. You see that the stone arch was blocking it as you get closer, slowing down as the noise of men’s voices recedes.

The archway isn’t alone. There are a good line of them, curving and cresting like silent waves through the overgrowth and neglect. At the end of the stone archways, like a hallway or manor entryway, there’s a statue. It’s difficult to tell what it is in the dim light, even when you draw closer.

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