Chapter 77: The Ones Left Behind (Part 2 of 2)

  Raymond couldn’t keep Laurent’s pace. That became clear within the first hour. He tried—teeth clenched, steps quickened—but his legs shook after a short incline, breath coming thin and uneven. Laurent noticed without comment and slowed, shortening his stride, stopping more often under the pretense of checking the road.

  Raymond didn’t thank him. He just stayed close.

  They walked like that for most of the day. Rest, move, rest again. When Laurent offered water, Raymond drank too fast and coughed, then laughed weakly at himself.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Haven’t had this much in… a while.”

  Laurent nodded. “It’s fine.”

  They didn’t talk much at first. The road did enough of that.

  By evening, they found a shallow cut in the land that blocked the wind. Laurent set a small fire. Raymond sat with his back against a rock, staring into the flames like he expected them to vanish.

  “You got strong,” Raymond said finally. Not awe—more disbelief. “You were never like this.”

  Laurent shrugged. “Time.”

  Raymond swallowed. “How long has it been for you?”

  Laurent thought. Counted. “A little over two years.”

  Raymond laughed once, quieter this time. “Figures.”

  He stared at the fire, then spoke quickly, like if he stopped he might not start again. “When I arrived, I just… appeared. Outside a town. Liam and Arthur were there. And—” His voice caught. “There was a body. Minced. I think it was Samuel.”

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  Laurent didn’t interrupt.

  “Liam and Arthur started shaking,” Raymond continued. “Like spasms. Screaming. Then they just—stopped.” He pressed his palms to his eyes. “I was in pain too. Everywhere. But I lived.”

  Silence settled.

  “I didn’t know where I was,” Raymond said. “Didn’t know the language. My body felt… heavy. For weeks I could barely walk. I begged for food, but they didn’t understand me. I didn’t understand them.”

  Laurent stared into the fire.

  “After a while I stole,” Raymond said. “Food. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn’t. When I got caught the last time, they threw me in that jail.” A bitter huff. “Been there ever since. Maybe two years. Maybe three. I lost track.”

  Laurent’s jaw tightened.

  “I thought you were dead,” Raymond said softly. “All of you.”

  “I was alone,” Laurent replied. “For a long time.”

  Raymond nodded, absorbing that. “Are there others?”

  Laurent shook his head slightly. “I don’t know.”

  After a moment, he added, “Maybe there are more survivors.”

  Raymond didn’t respond right away. He just nodded, like the thought was too fragile to touch.

  They reached Rimewatch two days later. Raymond had to stop every few hundred steps by then. Laurent said nothing about it, only adjusted, waited, watched the walls rise.

  Rimewatch didn’t welcome them. It processed them. Laurent registered Raymond first—no rank, no certification, no language. The clerk barely looked up.

  “Inn,” Laurent said, sliding coins across. “One month.” The clerk nodded and wrote it down.

  Raymond stood awkwardly in the doorway of the small room, hands twisting together. “I don’t have anything. I’ll pay you back.”

  “You won’t,” Laurent replied. “You’ll work.”

  Raymond blinked. “Work?”

  “Cleaner,” Laurent said. “It’s safe. You don’t need to talk much. Gestures are enough.”

  Raymond nodded immediately—then hesitated. “You won’t… leave me here alone later, right?”

  Laurent looked at him. “I’ll be nearby.”

  Raymond exhaled, shoulders loosening. “Okay.” A pause. “I can do that.”

  Laurent left him with food, water, and instructions simple enough to follow. When he stepped back into the street, the city pressed in—soldiers moving fast, civilians keeping close to stone, the air tight with waiting. Laurent didn’t look back.

  Raymond was alive. For now, that was enough.