Chapter 143: Escape
Ben doesn’t hesitate, his strong arms holding tight to Noelle, who thrashes and screams, his voice breaking with raw, helpless grief. The night is filled with Noelle’s cries, each one echoing in the darkness and carving deeper wounds into the heart of anyone who hears. Ben’s face is set, jaw clenched with the weight of sorrow and duty. Tears glisten in his eyes, but he does not stop. He cannot stop. Every step forward is a step away from the horrors they are leaving behind, but also a step away from Doris, from a loved one left to fight alone.
Mona stumbles, her small legs unable to keep up, but Ben doesn’t falter. He sweeps her into his other arm, her tiny hands clutching desperately around a fragile bird, holding on as though it’s the only thing grounding her in this nightmare. Her face is pale, eyes wide with fear, yet she doesn’t make a sound. Only her shaking hands betray the terror she feels.
As they flee, Noelle’s journal slips from his fingers, pages fluttering in the cold wind before it lands on the ground, forgotten in their desperate escape. Ben sees it fall, but he doesn’t dare stop. He knows that even a moment of hesitation could mean the difference between life and death. With Mona clutched to his chest and Noelle held tight, he pushes forward, each stride a prayer for safety and mercy.
They finally reach the carriage waiting for them, the driver’s face grim and urgent. With a heavy heart and burning lungs, Ben places Noelle and Mona inside, his hands trembling as he urges the driver to go. The wheels begin to creak and roll, carrying them away from the crumbling sanctuary of their past life.
But the reprieve is short-lived. As they ride through the night, seeking refuge at Elaris’ church on the outskirts of the capital, a shadow moves in the darkness. A man with cold eyes and an even colder heart arrives at the church they just departed. His orders come like a death sentence, echoing through the crisp air. "Burn it to the ground. Leave no one alive," he commands. His men scatter, torches blazing and swords ready to spill innocent blood.
The flames soon crackle and roar, devouring the holy sanctuary. The night is filled with the screams of priestesses, cries of terror and agony swallowed by the fire and the unforgiving darkness.
Unaware of this fresh wave of violence, Ben holds Noelle and Mona close, their fragile, precious lives resting in his hands as the carriage races on. Their world has been shattered, and behind them, a trail of heartbreak and loss is left in the shadows.
*
"Are you heading to Vitra?" Noelle asked, his voice soft but carrying a note of urgency. His grip on Mona’s small hand tightened, the little girl pressing closer to his side, her wide eyes scanning the bustling docks with a mixture of curiosity and fear.
The merchant, a broad-shouldered man with a weathered face and a deep scowl, looked down at them with a sneer. His gaze traveled over Noelle and then to Mona, her hand clutching a small stuffed bird she hadn’t let go of since they fled. His dismissal was swift. "Yes, but I’m not running a passenger ship," he replied brusquely, already turning away, uninterested in the desperate pair before him.
Noelle swallowed hard, his heart pounding with the weight of urgency. He was exhausted, clothes dirty and travel-worn, but he straightened his spine, meeting the merchant’s gaze with a strength he barely felt. "Please," he whispered, his voice cracking.