“Everyone, go down to the basement now.” Agarin hurried his children to stand up and go to the back of the house.

“But we don’t have one,” whined the youngest drowsily to register the situation.

In one motion, Agarin took a deep breath, crouched slightly and moved his hands vertically, shifting the earth to create a hatch and a sizable area below them.

He breathed out. Sweat dripped from his face, and his long, tied hair clung to his skin. “Now we do. Let’s get down there.”

Hurrying with everyone inside the bunker-like basement, Agarin was about to seal the hatch until he noticed his husband was missing.

“Gitlam, what’s holding you up?”

Stepping back from the dwarf jumping inside, they saw Gitlam with a sizable mass of dough in his arms. “What are you looking at?” he asked as they all looked at him, perplexed.

“Dough? Really? From all the things you could bring, it’s dough!?” yelled Agarin, closing the hatch and hitting his husband repeatedly.

“Hey now,” Gitlam protested defensively, cradling the dough gently in his arms. “You never know when it will come in handy!”

Hazir tugged on Agarin’s robe to get his attention. “Will we live in a basement now and eat father’s bread all the time?” asked the little boy before his older sister pulled him into a hug.

“Hopefully not,” answered Agarin, brushing off the dust of Hazir’s hair. “The guards should soon apprehend that lunatic. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“That’s right,” answered Gitlam with a brave tear rolling down his cheek. “We need information on what is going on. Agarin, do your thing!”

His partner gave Gitlam a displeased look. “Not funny, and I can’t. I don’t have a high sensory ability to scout the surroundings; you know that.”

“Kiur can do it, can’t he?” inquired Ninda, startling all three adults. “My fathers once mentioned how amazing you were at communicating with the earth. You could do it easily, can’t you?”

The pair gave each other an uncomfortable look. “We don’t know what Ninda is talking about, Kiur.”

“We haven’t talked nothing about you or how you have lost your-”

“It’s alright,” Kiur stopped them, trying his best to seem composed. “There’s nothing wrong, it’s alright.”

Even after Kiur defused the situation, they felt considerably uncomfortable.

“I don’t want to say pry, but,” Gitlam began, “as it stands, we might be in trouble if we remain here too long. Could you try to scout out the situation with your magic-”

Upon voicing his opinion, the dwarf got an elbow against his stomach.

It was true that Kiur was the only one among them with the capability to scout the proximity with his magic.

Without even trying or lifting a single finger, Kiur could see and feel the erratic movement around them. Warning about whoever was up there was not to be trifled with and searching for them.

It wouldn’t be safe here for too long.

Shaking his head, Kiur reputed. “I can’t help scouting, but I know that we can’t stay until someone comes for help.”

“Should we risk a breakaway? Fight off whoever is out there?”.

“Definitely not with the children here.” rebuffed Agarin. “What if there’s more than one psycho?”

And alone they weren’t.

Having waited for too long to discuss their options, the inevitable happened.

A sharp object sliced through the thick stone layer above, stopping right before Kiur’s nose.

A blade sliced through the ceiling, followed quickly by the sharp end of a spear and back again with a gleaming axe. Panicked screams and cries filled the space as the ceiling became riddled with holes.

With no time to spare, Agarin carved an escape way leading right out in front of the house. They crawled outside and found three assailants in their home behind the cut-open entrance.

The second they noticed their presence, Agarin sealed off the entrance with another layer of stone.

“How did they cut through it? Are you getting sluggish?”

Agarin wiped away the sweat on his forehead and huffed at his husband. “I’ve never been much of a magic user, you know that, but I don’t know how-”

“Look, smoke!”

Following the direction of the girl’s finger, they found smoke billowing in the distance.

Black and red fumes intermingled with one another and covered the elevations of the mountains. It was coming from the market area where most of the people were living close by.

Something was happening, but Kiur couldn’t process what. Outsiders were attacking them, but from where could they possibly have come?

The northern part of Idaris possessed a high military presence, protecting them from the beasts beyond the mountains. Southwards was their ally Navarre, and in the east was the sea, with no way to dock ships outside Navarre’s jurisdiction and the sharp cliffs.

After eliminating all other options, only the West remained.

Crossing the mountains without alarming anyone was next to impossible. The terrain was rough and dangerous to cross without a native.

But here they were, destroying their peaceful lives. “Why does this have to happen?” Kiur anguished himself over this question as he was drawn back to the danger.

The cutting and clanging of metal against stone were getting louder and clearer.

Blades of rusted iron tore apart the hard stone barrier. It wasn’t elemental magic, but plain reinforcement magic.

Only seasoned magic users or soldiers could pull it off at this magnitude.

Not three armed stragglers with ripped clothes and scrawny faces who seem to not have eaten properly in forever.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

One of the men with raven black hair and a tint of purple at their tips came forth. His sharp eyes glowed like sunstones. “Skær dem op, tag børnene,” said the ferocious young stranger with the axe pointed at Kiur and the others.

“What did he say?”

“I don’t know, but I hope he was not insulting my dough!”

“Cut them up,” answered Kiur with terror in his voice. He understood every word he spoke. “They will kill us and take the children!”

Call it instinct or whatever it was, but Kiur felt the cutting edge of a blade on his skin when he locked eyes with them.

Cold sweat ran down his skin when the man’s piercing eyes settled on Kiur and licked his chipped lips, revealing a toothy sneer.

They were here to murder anyone standing in their way. Kiur’s body couldn’t move from fear of the man coming towards him.

“Kiur, we will hold them off. Get the children out of the way!” bellowed Gitlam, igniting waves of flames over his arms. “Agarin, give me an opening!”

“Right.” Using the last bit of strength left in him, Agarin dug his hands into the earth, turned them and let the ground shake. It took everything out of him not to keel over from overexerting himself, but he had to think of his children.

The diversion worked as the unknown attackers staggered from the moving ground.

Meanwhile, Gitlam set his dough on fire and hurled it at them with all the fury of a dwarf.

It wasn’t that effective at first.

They dodged most of them until one got unlucky and had his entire face covered in dough, and struggled to breathe as it began expanding.

“My secret mixture for making bappir bread for brewing. Don’t try eating it; you’ll hate the taste!” Gitlam turned his head back to Kiur and his children, who were still in place. “What are you standing there twiddling your thumbs? Get going and keep them safe!”

There wasn’t much time to contemplate. Kiur couldn’t stay and help to fight. He was not sure if he would be of any help in his current state.

Especially with children by his side and the delusion still creeping nearby.

He picked up the protesting Hazir boy, grabbed Ninda’s hand, and ran. “I will keep them safe, I promise.”

A smile appeared on the parents’ faces. “Thank you, and keep your head up,” was the last thing Kiur would hear from them.

—☽—

Kiur ran. He sprinted down the trail to a safe place he wasn’t sure even existed.

His head throbbed, and a sharp pain radiated from the back of his left chest, but he kept running. The ziggurat was the safest place he could think to go now, but so might everyone else.

The attackers included.

It was too far away anyway, but where else would they be safe? Where did Kiur need to escape? Why did this all have to happen?

“I don’t want to; my parents are still home!” Hazir flailed in Kiur’s arms but stopped quickly, his fever preventing him from struggling further or doing anything except sobbing.

“There, there; we will go to the temple, and you’ll soon see your parents again.” Kiur tried to soothe the child and then looked at the second one holding his hand.

Ninda’s face was frozen in shock, eyes wide and wet from tears.

How should he protect either of them if he could not hold himself together? “Why do I have to be so pathetic?” rumbled Kiur about himself and gritted his teeth.

“Stop med at löpa, gulddräng.”

Kiur’s skin shuddered. He dropped to the ground before the axe swung above his head, lodging itself deeply into the wall.

“One of them caught up to us!”

A kick almost hit the boy in his arms. Kiur turned and let himself be kicked against his back instead, hurling him down the path.

Pebbles and loose stones pierced Kiur’s skin, but he shrugged it off.

“Who are you?” asked Kiur in their language. “What do you want?”

The wild man cocked his head. He was dangerously lean but had a trained body underneath his shabby rags for clothes.

It was an odd combination, but it was the first thing striking Kiur’s mind because it didn’t feel right.

“Someone here speaks our language? Quite a positive surprise. I didn’t expect that.” The Reiszer had caught Ninda and forced the girl to her knees. She yelped in pain. “If you want to know, it’s Hessian.”

“What do you want from the children? Why are you here?” exclaimed Kiur, hiding Hazir near the trail. His fever was getting worse; the stress had got to him.

“You expect an answer? I give you one,” Hessian, flexing with his arm, dislodged the axe and let it rest against his shoulder. “I don’t know the reason, nor do I care either.”

His voice was full of anger but directed at what? The more he talked, the more Kiur could deduce the dialect.

It was a variation from the Western tongue. He really was a Reiszer.

“Why are you not trying to get that girl back? Are you a coward?”

Was he a coward? Most likely, Kiur had run away just now and didn’t stay to help fight.

Holding his palm at Hessian, the Reiszer stepped back cautiously, expecting something to happen, but nothing came. No matter how much Kiur tried to will his magic, nothing happened.

He really was useless.

“Coward.” Hessian shortened the distance between them and lunged with his axe.

Kiur barely dodged the rusty blade.

And hitting Hessian back did little more than harm his own hand.

“Was that a punch?” growled Hessian in disappointment and swung his fist at Kiur. The Reiszer winced from the pain as Kiur blocked it, his veins glowing faintly in shades of orange. “You didn’t do it consciously. How did you protect yourself?”

“I don’t know!” Wanted Kiur to respond, but before he could, a next hit sent him backwards, flying.

Being an earth mage allowed Kiur to reinforce his body with earth magic to toughen himself‌, but this was merely luck. Of course, it wouldn’t work again.

With Hessian’s swings of his axe and his fist becoming fiercer, faster and increasingly more dangerous, Kiur could only try dodging them.

One of them cuts with the axe scrapped Kiur’s thigh shallowly, but it was enough to make Kiur cry as the pain travelled through all his body.

“Reiszer,” Kiur remembered what was so dangerous about them.

They could directly get in touch with the flow of magic and inflict damage that way.

They could not produce elemental magic, but their damage control with mana was abnormal. When Hessian injured Kiur’s thigh, he had also hit the magic channels underneath the skin.

Being the only individuals to inflict so much damage and pain on magic users, some referred to Reiszer as mage killers. No one in their right mind would willingly want to face one.

They were too dangerous.

“What is it? Getting tired?”

It couldn’t go on. Hessian was outclassing Kiur in every aspect, physically and magically.

Kiur’s only chance of changing the tides didn’t work. He was still self-sabotaging himself from using his magic to protect himself and others.

“Stop dodging and start fighting properly—” Dodging Hessian’s swing by going underneath him, Kiur grabbed Hessian’s arm and hip. With his feet planted firmly on the ground, Kiur felt a boost of confidence and threw Hessian over his shoulder.

Hessian heaved himself up, his knees shaking as he hit the ground hard. “What was that?” He could see how Kiur was emitting a strange energy pattern, although not consciously. “Magic? No, don’t tell me you are— Ha, you’re an amateur, aren’t you?”

Picking himself up, Hessian's muscles tensed. His calves shook as he closed the distance to Kiur again. His frenzy movements and swings became even faster and fiercer for Kiur to handle, who could barely move from his place.

Hessian’s axe was so close to cutting Kiur’s throat.

“Stop it!” Ninda’s cry whipped over them, followed by a gust of wind that pushed Hessian off the edge.

Hessian was in disbelief as he fell down the slope, shouting and disappearing below the dark clouds and sight.

“We need to get to the temple… my parents are waiting there.” Ninda cried. Her hands were trembling, unable to process what she just did. “I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?”

Looking over the edge where Hessian just fell from. Kiur exhaled a troubled but relieved sigh. He tried for a comforting smile.

“N-no, you didn’t.” Kiur removed himself from the edge and tried to console the girl by taking her hand. He didn’t know what to say and didn’t want to think about it. They needed to move on. “Thank you for your help,” he mastered weakly, trying to make her feel better.

While Kiur left alongside the children, a single man was holding on to the deep side of the cliff he had fallen from.

The splintered wood of his axe cut into his abused hand, but a smile glazed his face.

“I deserved this,” laughed Hessian, digging his nails into the cliff to climb back up. “But I will get you for this, coward.”