The hoofs pounded through the grass plains, sailing with the white banners bearing the Sigil.
“I see them! By the tree line! Faster before they make it into the forest!” roared one of the raiders as his mare began tearing ahead from it’s companions.
“Slow Galiel, you don’t know if they can use their spark, you’ll end up dead!” shouted a raider who was hoisting the banner, now 50 paces behind Galiel.
As the pines began to loom closer and with it a mass of rags with bare feet running towards the tight slender pines ahead.
“Stop, stop now in the name of the Moru Order!” the last word heaved from Galiel as he took his hand away from the reins, and brought it back and forward with a punching gesture, with half of his hazel eye losing color before returning to normal, the children still running turned their heads, seeing the raider punch air in seeming frustration, allowed themselves a grin, which could only be stretched halfway as the an enormous roar, then bang, tore world apart.
Earth fell from the sky and dust stood where the ragged children were, pieces of pine that smoldered and charred were strewed all over.
As cries brought consciousness into existence, the rest of the raiders slowed to a trot beside Galiel who was now stationary, panting in-sync with his brown dappled mare.
“Galiel, you fool, you’ve killed them all, the Arch Prince will flay us alive in-front of all the Five Tails!” he said driving the banner point into the earth after dismounting.
“Fear not, Festor, the young rabbits are bruised at most, but I couldn’t let them get away you know” said Galiel, who was already off the horse and walking towards the desolation, while the other three raiders were dismounting behind Festor.
“There hasn’t been any children with a spark in the last dozen villages, I hoped we would be heading back to the Hold by now” said Galiel slowing as he neared the first still figure on the ground who was covered in dirt and remnants of pine. All raiders drew closer to Galiel and the figure.
“Of course there hasn’t been any children anywhere” said Festor who looked up to the sky squinting.
“I don’t understand why the Order has called the Sigils so early, and for that matter..” Festor trailed off, as Galiel prodded what he saw now was a boy in tattered mole skins, with blood trailing from the temple. Festor groaned.
“Blood of Lima, Galiel I told you to be careful, I bet all of the others are dead too!”
Galiel and Festor continued towards the other lying heaps on the ground, bark and debris crunching in their path, while the other raiders examined those closer to where the tree line once stood.
“You can’t expect all the eggs to not break while stuffing them in a basket my dear Festor” said Galiel as he turned over another boy, few years older then the previous one, the charred clothing leaving a dark mark and matte soot on his palm. Festor groaned again charging himself for another litany.
“Oh spare me the farmer’s prattle about eggs, you’re more of a fox in a hen coop when it comes to using your Tail” said Festor, prodding faintly at another figure with his boot.
Galiel ignored him, he felt that those hailing from Merthia Minor always were touchy on any mention of farming given the rugged landscape that they were brought up with and more than often endured.
“Besides if you continue “breaking eggs” as you call it” Festor closed his fist in imitation of the gesture.
“The Knight Kingdoms will have no troubles in overrunning Merthia” said Festor
Galiel smirked, besides irritation with farming the omission of the “Major” or “Minor” in Merthia, was a constant theme in the way Festor spoke. Galiel was about to comment on this fact, toying with Festor rarely got old, when he and his dark curls spun around, as one of the raiders shouted in the distance.
“Here, I have a pair here, they’re still alive!”
Galiel grinned and tapped Festor lightly on the tunic with the back of his gauntlet. Making a light clunk sound.
“See Festor, fresh eggs” said Galiel with a winning grin.
Before Festor could complain further, Galiel jogged down to the old raider, who was now standing over a boy and a girl sitting upright, covered in dirt, which made their hair matted and stiff. Galiel peered at them, then squatted to meet them at eye level. They looked rough and smelled rougher still. The boy looked to have 8 or 10 names days to him while the girl who on second glance at the boy was undoubtedly his sister, both sharing the same long nose and dark eyes, and was about 15 name days old. The pair stared back at Galiel.
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“Hello, my name is Galiel, the first Darran Captain of the Moru Order, given your haste you probably already know that” a practiced smile was etched on Galiel’s face, one in which his eyes had no part in.
All the raiders now gathered, stood around, in a relaxed manner, that was broken in part by each of them clenching their right hand in a fist.
“Why don’t you tell me your names” Galiel spoke, directing his gaze at the older of the two. After a few moments, with an encouraging nod from Galiel the girl spoke.
“Almia” said the the girl in a spurt, shooting a glance past the raiders where the other children lay, unmoving.
“Almia, how nice” Galiel shifted with both of his arms on his knees, he always found that after initial show of force it was easier to build a rapport.
“Now Almia, we are going to need to perform a simple test, think of it as a game really, now..” said Galiel.
“You killed them, you killed them all.” said Almia her voice and body rising, attempting to hoist up her younger sibling by the arm.
The raiders moved as one, the grizzled gray raider seized Almia, while another one nearby took hold of the younger boy, hands over chest, holding on tight.
“You’ve killed them, killed them, killed!” Almia began to thrash violently.
Galiel sighted, a rapport was all good and well, but he supposed that Festor might have been right about the whole fox thing.
“Bring the Sigil” barked Galiel in a level voice, as Almia’s shrieks continued, while her brother stood frozen, held now only by his shoulders.
Within a moment Festor produced an iron rod from his horse’s elongated side satchel. The end of the iron rod bore a mark, identical to that of the red one on the white banner flopping in a gentle breeze in the wind a few paces back, appearing to be made from a darker metal, a circle with a line surrounded by crude rings.
“Hold it steady Festor” said Galie who un-gloved his hand, holding it with the other and hovering it over the dark metal Sigil, Almia’s shrieks amplified, as a shimmer radiated from Galiel’s hand, and the dark iron Sigil began glowing, first red then white hot.
“Stretch out her arm Kelor, and the boy’s too Brin, let’s do both quick” spoke Galiel, a distinct wear in his voice, he was not surprised, he has been pushing himself hard these past days.
Almia struggled but to no avail, the dark iron touched her skin, a moment of sizzle, smoke rose, but once the Sigil was taken away, no mark remained, save for a fraction of Almia’s left eye which began fading from a colorless white back to their original brown.
“Hah, finally, congratulations Almia! You my dear are a Child of the Comet! Although your eye mark was small, but we can work with that!” boomed Galiel. Almia sobbed.
“The boy next” said Galiel, still beaming, glancing back to Almia, with a real smile.
This time around the dark iron Sigil, produced more smoke and a scream as burned flesh filled Galiel’s nostrils. The boy cried as the Sigil left his right arm.
“Lima’s luck I suppose, usually siblings both have the Gift” said Galiel, only a fraction dismayed, but his cheer brought back up as he looked back at Almia again.
“Well, well I suspect you knew how lucky you were, that’s why you gave us chase little lady” said Galiel, now twirling one of the locks that lay across his eye.
“I wonder if you already have awakened your spark” Galiel peered hungrily now at Almia who has stopped sobbing and was once again staring back at Galiel not breaking eye contact, while her brother continued to cry silently in Brin’s shadow, with one hand on his shoulder.
“We should probably test it out further given that, wait no, what are you doing, STOP!” Galiel raised his arm, the other raider’s tensed and jumped into motion, all in Almia’s direction. Her eye mark glowed white, a slices of hot air that turned to flame lashed out in every direction. In an instant, Kelor was knocked back from her, the flames striking his face and torso. The other raiders including Brin and Festor made to make punches and slashes with their hands in the air, but before they could get within five paces, each was hit with at least one lashing fire, that threw them back. Galiel could feel his leg being slashed open as he managed to extend his first in Almia’s direction.
“Run! Run to the trees!” screamed Almia.
Wide eyed, with Brin sprawled on the ground and clutching his eyes. The boy looked at his sister in horror, as his legs began to stumble him towards the old tree line and into the forest. Almia’s mouth opened to repeat the command but no sound came, her shoulder moved back abruptly as blood tricked from her ear, she crumpled in a heap. Galiel lowered his arm, while covering his upper leg now painted in red with his left hand and staggered towards the girl, ignoring the pleas of his companions.
She was dead.
Galiel looked around, all the raiders lay on the ground. Festor he saw was still clutching the iron rod, the back end of which was poking through his back as he knelt, a hopeless statue. The other raiders lifted themselves to their feet, scorched but not fatally, yet fatally slow in getting to their horses.
“What should we do with Festor and the other uhm bodies, Captain?” said Brin looking at Galiel who just managed to pull out the Sigil from Festor, his left cheek was blistering now. Galiel didn’t respond but handed the Sigil rod to Brin and yanked the Banner out of the ground halfway before realizing it too had been a victim of the flame and let the wooden shaft drop, clambering on the back of his mare.
He looked into the forest, and was able to make out a shifting shadow growing smaller. He pulled his mare’s reins around and hit her sides with his stirrups with more force than was strictly necessary. The others followed. As he trotted back away from the place Festor lay, he muttered to himself.
“Another bloody broken egg!”