Kareem

Kareem was afraid to wake up, but he would never wake up again if he didn't.

Opening his eyes to darkness, he sat up, grabbing his dull Velonium iron sword. He nearly banged his head against the low cobblestone roof he had slept under, but he remembered on time and lay back, just barely avoiding a concussion. He squeezed out of the small platform he was under and stood up, moving at once.

It had been a full fortnight since Kareem had been close to the city. He and his eight-man Rider squad had headed out of Verdack to see if they could find more livestock or anything that would be beneficial to them inside the city. But it hadn't taken up to a week before they had been found by a large demon force and hunted down like dogs who slaughtered them mercilessly. 

Kareem was lucky to have survived, but the weight of the guilt he carried in his heart was immense. They had all died in his stead and he knew it, having stayed hidden while the demons ripped his comrades to shreds. It had been their plan, of course, to keep him alive so at least one person could make it back and relay all they had found. He already knew that regardless of what he said, the mission would still be regarded as a failure as they didn't achieve their primary objective. 

Now, Kareem was being hunted down by a band of demon scouts he had run into as he neared Verdack. He had taken off on his horse once he saw them heading his way, but after a two-day chase, they shot his steed, killing it, and leaving him to flee on foot. He had managed to evade them so far, mostly by hiding during the day and traveling by night, but as each day passed, he knew they were edging closer.

At the moment, he had made camp in the ruins of a fallen mage settlement. The collapsed stone houses were perfect for him to hide inside, but he chose to instead sleep underneath what seemed to have been a blacksmiths' bench. He made his way over to a broken steel shelf and lifted the front up, gritting his teeth as the screeching sound of steel dragging against the ground filled his ears. Pushing it aside, he uncovered his grey sack, which he had hidden under the shelf in case the scouts came to his temporary base earlier than he predicted.

He untied the sack, opening it wide to check his rations. Inside, he had about six pieces of bread, each as big as his fist, and a leather bag with water. Kareem only had this much because of his fallen comrades. Biting back his anger, he tied the bag and picked it up, swinging it over his shoulder with ease. He wanted to stay a bit longer, but if he did, the chances of them finding him were high.

"Damn demons," he mumbled, walking out of the crumbed forge. "Let's hope I find Riders around today."

That had been his plan. To outrun the demons till he found other Riders. He would also prefer if it was the Amazons he found, as he knew their leader would take care of his pursuers without breaking a sweat. Only if his dreams were reality. Until he was able to find a large group of mages, he would have to keep running till he reached the gates.

Heading out of the city ruins, Kareem felt deep hatred toward the demons. Although it was dark, he could still remember how the city looked when he had arrived at it at midday. If it wasn't in ruins, he imagined a beautiful city with a peaceful population of mages flourishing with zero worries whatsoever. If it wasn't in ruins, the mages would be able to live past the walls happily and expand their reach into the other realms once more. If it wasn't in ruins, Kareem may have not been here to witness his teammates, men, and women he had trained tirelessly with for more than a decade, get slaughtered by a band of greedy savages. Clenching his fists, Kareem let out a heavy sigh, his rage bubbling to the surface.

Left to him, he was prepared to wait for the demons and fight them till he died, but killing himself out of rage would be a stain on his team's name. He was left alive to carry on their will to free themselves from the clutches of the demons. And he was prepared to do that till fate said otherwise.

"Look around. He must be here."

Kareem tensed, dropping to the ground noiselessly immediately. He recognized that voice. Even with the blood pumping through his head, there was no doubt about that gruff, commanding voice. The same voice he had heard laughing as steel hacked away flesh, piercing screams following the seemingly endless torture. Shutting his eyes, he tried to quell his anger once more. The darkness would let him sneak around with ease and take out a couple of demons before they mobilized and caught him. His Heka was useless in this scenario, as igniting his flames would only draw attention the second he used it. 

Getting up slowly, Kareem crept towards a wall beside him. Peeping over, he spotted two black figures walking towards the forge he had left barely a few minutes ago. He cursed, ducking back down as three more figures came out from a house just beside the wall he was behind. The demons were fully armored, their pitch-black armor concealing them in the darkness of the night. Kareem was only able to make them out because he was used to moving around in the darkness, as all other Riders were. 

Attacking them was out of the question now. Not only were they fully armored, but they were also moving around in groups as well. If it was done to a one versus one, Kareem was sure he could hold his own pretty well. But he was handicapped at the moment and in a very precarious position.

"No noise could hide the sound of steel being dragged," another voice said from somewhere in front of him. "Foolish of him to do that."

Holding his breath, Kareem stood absolutely still, unable to spot the demon in front of him and his partner. He could only guess they were looking away from him. If they decided to turn, he just had to hope the darkness would conceal him as well as it did them.

"Regardless of whether he moved it or not, finding him would have been easy. These ruins would be obvious for hiding a running dog," someone else replied. 

"This darkness is a bother though. He could walk right past us and we wouldn't notice."

"Even if he does, Verin is waiting by the horses at the gate. The others are at the other possible places he could leave from. If he didn't leave before we arrived, that poor mage is going to walk into hell the second he tries to run."

"Our last taste of fun before we head back to Sewadr."

The demons had stopped moving, now both standing somewhere a bit to his left. Kareem was still crouched, praying he looked like nothing but an object lost to the ruins. He had decided to listen in on their conversation so if he survived, he would have something to report back to the Riders in the city. Giving the demons the names demon one and demon two, Kareem listened on from the shadows.

"What the hell was that letter anyway?" demon one grumbled. "We've left Verdack for millennia and they want to attack it now? What do we need one measly mage city for?"

Kareem stifled a gasp. The demons had left Verdack for years, having given up on trying to take the city well defended by the first king and his horsemen. At the moment, Verdack wasn't as strong as it was then, but Kareem had confidence they could hold the city. But how could they hold it if they weren't even aware of the impending attack?

"Don't ask me," demon two said. "The nine generals would probably be the ones to brief us when we get back."

"Oi!" the gruff voice yelled, from where the other two stood. "What the hell are you doing standing around?"

"We're looking, Zagan," demon two replied. "You'll alert the mage so stop yelling."

"Even if he knows we're here, there's no way he's escaping," Zagan hissed. "He's as good as dead."

Gulping down hard, Kareem knew he had to move. If he stayed there any longer, it was only a matter of time before they found him. He couldn't go out from just anywhere because he wasn't sure exactly how many demons were at the possible exits.

All but one. 

Sighing, Kareem slowly moved out of their range of sight, easily making his way to the opposite side of the wall. He had a plan, a very stupid yet foolproof plan. Dropping his sack, he pulled out his sword and made his way toward the gates. He was going to survive at any cost.