The guards coldly watched the chaos below, only unleashing merciless suppression with their bows when the disturbance threatened to breach the gates.
Few were as fortunate as Tom, who was granted entry for his combat prowess.
They were under strict control, with heavy tasks and severely reduced rations, but at least they survived with sturdy stone shielding them from the elements.
Tom was assigned to reinforce the walls and patrol. Every time he stood atop the fortress, gazing at the refugee tide below that resembled Hell, his stomach would churn tumultuously.
He saw familiar faces struggling and disappearing in the crowd, heard faint cries and curses carried by the wind.
He clutched his meager portion of rations tightly, feeling that every bite he took was weighed down with guilt.
