Road to Hanuk

A long, twisting cobbled road lay for those who evacuated to Hanuk, it's grey stone glinting as the moonlight slid into the minuscule crystals that lay within the rocks. A few weeks' march would take them to their destination, many knowing this through experience, but the troubles along the path were far more dangerous. In a spot just out of reach of the local guard patrols lay a set of bandit camps, and many people had been known to fall to these people. Whether it is by taking a path that strung you beside a river or forest, most of the time you would lose your life. If not to the bandits then to exhaustion and starvation, it was given the nickname 'Paths of Death'. For Markus this was the least of his worries as he slowly trudged down this road watching people collapse all around him but never stopping to lend a hand.

The forest lay to the north and only held poisoned vegetation, whilst the river ran beside the road, it was unnaturally salty, no living thing could stay in it for long and a single sip of river water could instantly dry a person's throat. Many people fell to its allure and died a few days later, whilst those who travelled to the forest to find food would soon realise that there is none. Every mushroom, shrub, berry in that forest held poison lethal to any person. The wildlife seemed to understand this and never seemed to take a second look in there. All there was, was tall oak trees as old as the forest center. The younger saplings growing to tremendous heights, some around 10 meters tall, others 20. Their leaves were a repulsive green, luminous in nature and when the sun shone through them a pattern could be seen, a vile blue like the veins on any human creature would run through the leaves like a river all the way to the tip.

Markus made his way down the road, knowing to ignore the forest and river slowly making his way towards Hanuk. The bodies on the side of the road began to pile up, as more and more people fell to the allure of the forest and river. On the horizon smoke, bellowing high into the sky, approaching over the hill Markus saw in front of him a caravan decimated by the bandits of the area, merchant bodies lay strewn around the road, some missing limbs others with massive chunks of their flesh ripped out with what seemed to be teeth marks. The caravan itself was an old wagon, repurposed to act as a cart and for people transport. It's doors lay barely hanging on, the hinges broken and twisted into different shapes. The merchants wore an assortment of bright velvets, blues, golds and reds yet all had the same insignia attached to their chest, just above their hearts.

The insignia was a crest of a wolf howling at a crescent moon, a sword split the moon through its center and seemed to be embroidered in with golden cloth. The rest of the insignia was embroidered with silver cloth and a royal blue outlining it all. Among the dead merchants seemed to be caravan guards, all brutally butchered, some of their ears had been cut off as trophies, some missing their eyes and others had their entire lips stripped from their faces. Blood stained the cobbles all alongside the bodies, but it wasn't fresh, it had dried into the stonework and had begun its process to turn a darker brown. Whispering could be heard in the forest next to the road, some scavengers sat eager to pounce on any leftovers from the bandits raid.

Slowly Markus crouched down and searched one of the bodies, his hands getting covered in a dry coating of blood that began to flake off whenever he clenched his fists. He shifted around the corpses searching for any belongings that had been missed, any coin that could benefit him later. Sensing a sort of worth for the insignias he began to tear them out of the velvet, stacking them up and proceeding to pocket them. A pulsing thought began to grow in his mind to take their clothes too and sell them to people who would desire them more than others.

"No." he muttered to himself, his mind fast tracked on survival first, slowly he began on again. Leaving the corpses to the crows and scavengers who had slowly begun making their way out of the forest. Continuing ever onwards down the road to Hanuk.

A few days had passed with little to no sound, the wind had been still and the nights had been comfortable for Markus, the sun breached the clouds every so often, lighting his pathway better down the road. The bodies that had once lined the side of the road a few days prior had vanished, Markus slowly beginning to realise that he was now the one in front of the group of evacuees. The road lay silent before his eyes, the birds in the sky hadn't been seen for days, but on the horizon, approaching over the lip of a hill he could see banners bobbing up and down. Their colours and sigil blinded by the sun's rays peered between them, a sound of metal men marching, them crunching the cobbles beneath their feet as if they were being pulverised to dust with every step.

Markus darted into the forest fearing the worst as he watched the army approach ever slowly, holding his breath in case they were the enemy that he didn't want to face. Ever closer they came before the sun's brightness dimmed behind a cloud and for a brief moment he could make out the banners. A vulture pecking at a mountain, its colours red and orange, it was the banner of Jyellik. Bursting out of the forest Markus ran towards the army before one of the leading commanders screamed, "HALT!" at the top of his lungs.

"Who are you?" He quickly asked, his voice tellingly out of breath from the marching, all the wagons at the rear of the column came to a halt and all the men quickly dispersed into a formation to hold their positions against any enemies in the forest.

"I am Markus." Markus responded, out of breath, starved and out of water. "From Luik." He slowly added, his vision becoming dimmed.

"What is the state of Luik?" The commander asked, his bassy voice sounding more stern than before, a certain look in his eye of slight concern mixed with his high and pompous attitude. Some men came forward to Markus with some food and drink in order to help him live.

"Luik burned, it's gone. All it's people now lay along either this road or the others to the North and South West." Markus responded, now biting into some tough bread that the soldiers had given to him, it was a soldier's bread so it was far more tough to bite through and left an aftertaste that would repulse a normal person. The water on the other hand came from a system they had brought with them that took the saltiness out of the river water and left its clean spring ripe for drinking.

"I see, and where do you be headed young pup?" The commander once again keeping the same tone, gesturing for his men to get ready to march towards Luik.

"I'm heading to Hanuk. But I don't know what for." Markus responded now clearing off to the side of the road to allow the army to march past him.

"Good luck to you then, make that bread and water last your journey, young one." The commander signalled the army to march and Markus slowly watched as thousands of men slowly trudged past him. Their armour clinked together and the chainmail beneath rustled as they passed all of their expressions, a weird mix of determination but also fear of what they were about to see.

Slowly Markus began to walk down the road towards Hanuk, keeping a good eye on his water and bread that he had been given. More days passed with nothing happening, till he could start to smell the coast. Seagulls soaring high above him, zipping down into the sea a good distance away. Then it was there in front of him, Hanuk the port city of Jyellik. The sun had begun to go down so Markus decided to make a stop and rest before making his final journey to the city, during the night he could barely bring himself to sleep. Now that he'd made it to safety his mind now slipped into the thoughts of his family, and his people.

Nightmares through the night would continue to filter through his mind as he now felt closer to safety. As the next morning rose with the screech of a seagull, Markus had not gotten much better, his body feeling the pain from lack of sleep trundled slowly towards Hanuk and towards his bastion of safety. Approaching the gates, wooden made of the thick oak that lay in the forest next to the road some miles away, the walls themself were wooden, like spikes protruding from the ground and pointing towards the sky. Peering through he could see life in Hanuk hadn't been affected by the news of Luik, or it was a possibility they didn't know how bad it really was.