All eyes were upon the limp, burning form of Cruck’aa, as it soared through the air like a blazing star, unceremoniously thudding to the ground behind the barbarians.

  Silence clung to the air; Jo’s blood froze as she stared at the smoldering, limp form, many of the barbarians now openly looking back, transfixed upon the sight of what only could have been described as a cooking bird.

  Doriyah whistled. “Hell of an entrance.”

  Heart hammering, Jo whirled around, eyes scanning the rooftop for any sign of Serena; she found only a bit of silver mist, wafting in the air.

  “Nine Hells.” Jo swore, flipping back around; the antlered barbarian started to yell something, waving his hand at his men.

  “Jo…” Pavel breathed, eyeing the barbarians as a few backed away, scooting towards Cruck’aa. “Serena got us?”

  “Nope.” Jo said. “Gone.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “What it means.”

  “Nine Hells.” Pavel swore. Jo could only nod.

  Sixteen men still blocked their way, the antlered leader included. Only four had moved towards Cruck’aa, weapons pointed towards him as they investigated, faces twisted in guard curiosity. Gone was the blustering and boasting, however, silence still in its place, save for their leader. Evidently, a burning bird was enough to jolt them. An auspicious sign, had their only magic users still been in the fight.

  “Thought you people weren’t cowards!” Nura spat as the sixteen barbarians inched forward, their leader spurring them on.

  Jo growled, a bead of sweat trickling down her face.

  “Well…went into this hoping we had Serena and Cruck’aa supporting us.” Pavel replied for her, voice low, stepping back to match the barbarians’ march. “Bit outnumbered now.”

  “Bunch of fucking nature lovers,” Doriyah laughed. “we’re fine.”

  Jo glanced over; despite his words, Doriyah still scooted back with them, eyes flicking about, far wider than they usually were.

  Gods above, all this to defend people they’d barely known.

  “Haunt you when this is over.” Jo said.

  Pavel eyed her, then smiled.

  “Not if I haunt you first.” He said. “Best make a plan though, before we die, yeah?”

  A familiar flush of anger tore through Jo’s chest, but she shoved it aside as she took everything in, eyes scanning, mind a whirl. Sixteen to four, against them, but they had the experience, save Nura. She assumed. Still at a disadvantage. Had to stick together then, defend from all sides. Cover a partner, keep hitting, but stay together. Only way. Had to be perfect.

  Had to be perfect.

  “Right,” Jo growled. “best we –”

  “Enough of this dance!” The barbarian leader bellowed, pointing his axe at Doriyah. “Throw down your weapons! Else your friend dies by –”

  “Ain’t my fucking friend!” Doriyah shouted back. “Eat him! Like I give a shit!”

  Jo turned on Doriyah, about to scream; she slammed her mouth shut as the antlered man began to laugh.

  “So be it!” He waved a hand. “Kill him, so they may learn!”

  The blades descended onto Cruck’aa.

  Pavel and Doriyah screamed, one in desperation, the other a challenge, as they rushed the line of barbarians, now screaming in turn. Jo could only watch as Nura dashed after them, sword held over her head, screaming her own war cry. Heart in her throat, Jo forced herself to move.

  There’d be no deaths, if she could help it.

  …

  Glass crunched liked thunder under Serena’s boots, chest heaving as she sprinted towards the house; only halfway there did the thought of her magic surface through the fog of panic. She hurled herself the rest of the way there with a misty step –

  Her boots splashed, Hugo’s body a torn –

  She ripped her head towards the door, throwing her shoulder into it. Something like metal against metal sounded behind it.

  Why was it shut? Why was it bolted?! Who would have bolted it?! Why, why, why –

  Thumping in her ears, a rhythmic drum.

  A deep voice pierced that thumping, screaming as Serena stepped into the house; it came from a man, a barbarian, cringing as fragments of the door and shards of wood flew through the room, most smoldering. He recovered and shouted something, aiming his axe at her as Serena’s eyes ripped about the room, searching, looking –

  A body, by the stairs.

  The kitchen table screeched against the ground as the barbarian shoved it aside, advancing on her, still screaming, axe raised.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Thumping in her ears, a heavy drum.

  The man was gone, the wall behind him a gaping, burning wound that stared out towards the ruined town beyond. A part of him lay smoldering within the hole, though Serena paid it no heed as she stepped towards the body by the stairs, eyes wide.

  Flames flickered as they reflected in the pool of blood that Baron laid in, his chest a crimson ruin, his eyes sightless. He still clutched his sword, devoid of any blood.

  A tremor took up Serena’s body. Gods above, none of this made sense, how did they know where any of them would be?! Jo had been watching, hadn’t she? Hadn’t she? But then how did they know? How did they know?! They shouldn’t –

  A scream, from upstairs.

  Werond.

  Heat exploded through Serena’s chest, a wave of flame that seared her breath away; her legs gave out, and she fell beside Baron’s body, soaking her skirt in blood as she clawed at her chest. Her breath hissed through clenched teeth, each hammer of her heart sending a wave of fire through her veins.

  Serena smashed a fist into the blood, forcing herself through the pain, sweat pouring down her face. Baron’s blood began to boil as she crawled forward, digging her nails into the wood for leverage, the stairs so far away.

  Her muscles tensed, dying beneath the all-consuming heat, yet Serena managed to pull her leg forward, planting her boot into the drying blood, steam rising all around her. She ripped her head up, towards the stairs, towards the scream, towards the woman she loved –

  Serena screamed, and shoved herself forward, racing up the stairs, as the well within roared out of her.

  …

  Hell had come once more for the ruined town.

  Curses flew from Pavel’s lips as he fought his way to Cruck’aa, shoulder to shoulder with Doriyah, the larger man yelling as their hammers carved a path.

  Only two had fallen to them, their crumpled bodies crushed under foot. The rest of barbarians circled them, blades pointed, each shouting as their circle undulated about them. Their fear kept them back, yet they made up for it numbers, their line too dense to rush through. The four that had attacked Cruck’aa had rushed around the circle, bellowing towards Nura and Jo. Pavel could only pray they’d be alright.

  Their leader still stood over Cruck’aa’s form; his screams were almost drowned out from the clashing steel behind them.

  “Fucking,” Doriyah growled, swinging his hammer in a wide arc. “just – rush them!”

  “Can’t,” Pavel puffed, swinging at a barbarian who dared approach. “too – many.”

  “Gotta shove – back then!”

  “Not leaving Cruck’aa.”

  “Fucking, he’s dead, look at him! We’ll be –”

  “Don’t know that!” Pavel swung, scattering three barbarians who’d gotten too close. “Gotta get to him, just – fine, cover me!”

  “Away?!”

  “Towards!”

  “Are you fucking insane?!”

  He screamed before Doriyah could complain, rushing towards the three he’d scattered, Doriyah’s own cry echoing behind him.

  He swung his hammer again in a wide arc, missing two as they leapt back, catching the third in the chest with a horrific crunch as it caved in. Pavel angled towards him as he fell, dodging a sword swipe, and sprinted through the gap, towards the leader.

  The antlered man would have been imposing, had he not leapt back and let out a shrill scream; his eyes went wide as he dropped his axe, antlers glistening in the sun as he raised his hands towards Pavel.

  Pavel slowed, hammer up; was the man surrendering? He –

  The ground erupted.

  Pavel yelled, leaping back; dirt and rock ripped into the air, coalescing into a whirling earthy ball directly over the man’s head. The antlered man screamed and threw his hands towards Pavel, the spinning death ball flying straight at him.

  Pavel hurled himself to the side, the giant earthen ball soaring overhead. It shattered against the ground like a skull caving in, dirt and rock exploding through the air, showering him in enough debris to almost bury him within it.

  The antlered man stepped back to new dirt, as he thrust his hands back towards the sky, the ground around him cracking and heaving like a great beast taking a deep, shuddering breath.

  “No, no, no!” Pavel yelled, scrambling to his feet, too late.

  Pavel leapt away as another ball smashed into the ground beside him, more debris raining down around him, clouding his view; somewhere from behind, Doriyah bellowed something.

  Choking on the dirt, Pavel forced himself to move, sprinting to the side as another earthen ball exploded where’d he’d been. He kept running, arcing wide around the antlered man as he formed yet another ball of dirt and rock, screaming all the while.

  He grimanced, eyes flicking towards his friends.

  It was chaos. Jo and Nura stood back-to-back, each fending off two barbarians, as Doriyah fought through his own group to reach them. The sun glistened off the crimson that stained his hammer, his boots sending ripples in the pools of blood around him.

  His eyes flicked towards Cruck’aa, teeth clenched.

  He was still –

  Wait –

  Pavel yelled as a death ball smashed into him, an earthy hammer that slammed him into the ground, almost burying him as it split back apart. Dirt and debris filled his clothes and mouth, yet as another earthen ball formed in the air, blocking out the sun as it domineered over him, Pavel could only laugh.

  The antlered man bellowed as he stepped closer.

  “You fool!” He screamed. “To think you could best the giant’s magic?! What –”

  Whatever the man would have said, Pavel would never know, his voiced drowned out by a familiar, bestial roar.

  …

  Another scream.

  Serena found herself in a bedroom – Werond’s room. The door lay shattered before her, bits and pieces smoldering on the floor, wisps of smoke curling into the air.

  The beds had been shoved away, one into a corner, one nearly against the wall, four tiny heads poking up behind it, tears mixing with screams. All staring at –

  Werond.

  Held up against the wall, blood pouring from her nose, gashes across her face, a hand around her throat; a barbarian held her up, squeezing her throat with one hand, the other, an axe, pulled back, aimed towards –

  Werond.

  The barbarian flinched, dropping Werond as his hands flew up to his ears; the children screamed louder, fear mixing to an almost animal like pain.

  The barbarian swung his head towards her; his eyes went wide as he stepped back, aiming his axe towards her, saying something, only to point it towards –

  Werond.

  Serena was in front of him, hands against his chest, meeting his eyes, somehow wider, shock painted across his face.

  Thumping in her ears, a rhythmic drum.

  The barbarian was against the wall, gasping, sputtering, clawing at the hole in his stomach, the wall smoking behind him.

  Serena raised her hands and stepped forward, the man’s screams falling away beneath a curtain of white, a dull roar that swallowed the world.

  She blinked and it was gone; the rest of the ruined town stretched out before her like bones left to rot, a terrible rain of flaming debris falling over it. Distantly, steel clashed against steel, echoing through the air.

  She whirled around, sweat pouring down her face, the well flaring with her hammering heart, eyes darting to –

  Werond.

  Slumped. Against the wall.

  Bleeding. Broken.

  Not. Moving.

  Something came out.

  It felt…hot, and sharp, an unfamiliar taste upon her lips, something Serena had never felt before, or should have ever felt, a knife in her throat, the curtain of white returning, the well within flaring and flaring and flaring until –

  Hands.

  Cupping her face. Squeezing it. A noise came with them, and a pair of amber melted through the white.

  Serena blinked, again and again, letting herself be shaken, until the form of Werond, bloodied and bruised, became clear. How worried she was, her face a shattered painting, nose broken, lip busted, blood smeared across her cheeks.

  Her arms wrapped around Serena as she dove into her, gripping her tight; just as her chest began to heave, the sobs surfacing through the heat still boiling in her chest, Werond pushed her back. Eyes wild, she grabbed Serena’s arm and hauled her up, waving to the side. Serena looked over and could only stare.

  The second story of Nura’s house was gone, and the children along with it.