Rings of Honor

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Sabien

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on the outskirts of Rhy'Din

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"So there's this place," Brent had said, "-where we don't have to hide anymore. You can be whatever you are there. Do anything you want. Anyone you want," he'd added, stressing the last syllable. "No one cares."

"Sounds too good to be true," Chris had said. Sabien tended to agree.

"I know, doesn't it?" Brent laughed, exhaling smoke. "But it's true, and I know how to get there."

***

Brent was dead now. So was Chris. And Kevin. And Scott. And Frank. It had been nearly a year since that fateful night, when those people in their strange robes had come marching down the streets of the pack's new home, chanting with terrible vengeance and righteous bloodthirst in their eyes.

For a minute there, it had reminded him jarringly, painfully of all the reasons he'd left Alabama.

Sabien had watched, helpless, as one after the other, all of his friends had died around him, either taken in the ensuing battle or just dropping dead on the spot like a ton of bricks in a sack cloth, like a windup doll with all the gears yanked out.

He had no idea how he'd survived.
He wasn't even sure you could call this surviving.

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