Two Sides (Stan x Kyle)

23

Warning: Violence

Stan and Kyle bolt down the corridor halls, no longer caring if guards are to spot them.

"I still do not quite understand!" Kyle yells between breaths, "Why must they rally the townspeople?"

"Because!" Stan chokes out, "We need numbers- a fire at the town square is not part of our plan!"

Stan spins on his ankle when they come to a turn to halt. He grabs Kyle's arm and drags him through the next hallway.

They come up to the throne room and Stan does not take a second to glance at the King, for if he cannot see him, he is not a threat.

Kyle however, does look, and what he sees shocks him.

They sprint straight out of the castle gates and dash across the drawbridge, then Stan comes to a halt, panting as he looks in the distance.

His eyes reflect the conflagration, flames jumping hungrily into the air, spreading the atrocity to homes and stables.

Neither of the men can make out anything as the smoke begins to drift up to their eyes.

Kyle starts a coughing fit, "Stan- h- how will we sa- ave them-?"

Stan only stares at the fire for a second longer before grabbing a knife with pure determination in his eyes.

"Kyle," he begins, "Head eastbound towards the border. You must recruit your people."

Kyle nods, ready to departure, "Yes, and what shall you do?"

Stan pulls tight as he finishes tying a rope around his middle, throwing the other end around a lamppost and pulling the loop through.

"I shall rescue Gregory and Damien. Prepare your elves for war. We shall sneak up upon the King for he is sitting in his castle, eating-"

Kyle looks at him, concerned.

"Do you have a problem with my plan?" Stan asks.

"Yes," Kyle states hesitantly, "The King is not in his throne room. He is gone."

Stan's eyes go wide before he hears shouting and whips his head around; there stands the King, laughing and gawking at the peasants."

"Aha! You- are you attempting to put out the flames? It will not work- ha!"

Stan makes eye contact with Kyle before nodding, splitting the two up as Kyle runs off into the distance. Stan watches until the Elven King can no longer be seen before he stares back at the lapping flames.

He takes a deep breath. Here I go.

As Stan wades through the street attempting to avoid hot spots, he sees many people begging for help who are trapped in burning houses.

He winces with the realization that he cannot do anything to save these people, as he does not have water upon him.

The smoke soon builds up in his nostrils, causing a coughing fit. Stan quickly fists a handful of his undercoat and rips it clean off, tying it around his face as a mask.

His eyes water and burn as he stares into the ashy air. Stan feels with his arms out, avoiding lightened spots or especially toasty areas.

After trial and error, Stan feels his arm hit something. It is hard and dense, and Stan figures out it is wood just before the incendiary object bursts into flames.

He shakes his hands while falling off balance, letting out a yelp as he trips and falls upon the hot concrete.

Stan picks up his hands and feet before they burn on the ground and begin to look once again for the blond hair he had grown to know so well over these past few months.