All he could focus on was the blood on the floor, everything else was a blur, all noise was a deafening ring. Ebahra was on the floor, twisting and turning, a red pool growing over her stomach. Khomu was wrestling with the shaggy man at the door, he couldn’t even tell if he was doing well or not.

A loud crash and cry snapped him out of the stupor. “SAHM! SAHM!” He looked around, and somehow Khomu had thrown the man to the ground and was struggling against him, trying to pull the weapon from his hand.

He needs help. What was he going to do, just watch as the man who cared for him the last two weeks was fighting for his life? Get up you fucking idiot! Just get up, go punch him in the head. MOVE!

His legs trembled, sitting there at the table, watching a blade move closer to Khomu’s head. MOVE FATASS OR THEY’RE GOING TO DIE! A sharp breath, the sound of a pounding drum in his ears. With a fire in his belly Sam burst out from his seat and ran to the front where the two men were still locked in a struggle on the floor. He skidded on his knees and brought a tight fist down on the stranger’s head.

The blow went right for his nose, flesh compressed under the weight of his hand coming down, he heard a soft popping noise right before the man wailed in pain. Even as Khomu wrung the weapon from the man’s hands he struggled. Kicks and punches flew out now, he managed to push Khomu away, tumbling through the door..

That left Sam with the man. He went to the ground and started jabbing at his side. The man twisted and writhed around, shoving a fist into Sam’s side. The mangy, rabid warrior put his hands to his face and pushed Sam away.

He tried to throw a hand out, landing on the man’s cheek and scratching down, a small curl of skin and grime came and got stuck in his nails. Another impact came to his gut. Sam curled up and turtled against the onslaught of furious punches. He kept his arm up to cover his face.

Then the punches stopped. Sam turned up and saw Khomu pulling the man up, hooking his arms through his armpits and then slamming him down into the floor. Sam wasted no time in turning over and shoving their face into the ground and punching at his ribs in wild hooks. Now pinned under Khomu and Sam the man couldn’t fight back very well, but he still tried.

The man growled and roared like a beast. Twisting around to try and wriggle his way out of their grasp. Khomu pinned one arm down, using his other hand to hold the man down by the neck. Sam took hold of the other hand.

They couldn’t do much like this, they could hold him for sure but the man was wild, full of bloodlust. He wasn’t going to stop. They’d have to kill him.

Sam lifted a hand up in a fist to slam into the man’s head. As soon as he did the man twisted, throwing old Khomu off his back again and threw himself at Sam. Again they were on the ground.

More punches. Sam threw his arms up and tried to catch the man’s hands but instead a fist collided with his open hand, shoving right into his own face. Stupid.

Not long after, Khomu appeared again and stood behind the man. Both arms went wide and brought them together. His open palms slammed together at the man’s head, crushing it like an overripe tomato, red juice and small shards of white bone and teeth erupted from the mangled ball of flesh.

Some of the viscera splattered onto his cheek and mouth. Sam wanted to vomit. He looked up to see Khomu glowing and breathing hard, even as he rushed over to Ebahra on the floor he still glowed.

“Ebah! Ebay hold on! Sahm! Sahm! Get up!” The old man called, but Sam was still trembling on the floor. Staring at the body that was twitching ever so slightly on the ground in front of him.

Even with his head all but gone the body moved. A deep pit grew in Sam’s stomach while looking at the bloody mess, he tasted the blood and a small chunk of flesh on his lip. He turned over and puked right onto the floor.

A hand grabbed him by the back of his shirt and pulled him up. He was face to face with Khomu now. “Sahm! Come on, we have to save Ebah! Get her to the village!” The man let go of him and leaned down to his wife.

Ebahra laid there on the floor, soft whines came from her lip with every movement. Sam forced himself to move, to help Khomu get the woman on her feet. She cried out as she got up.

“Keep your hand on the cut Eshema.” Khomu took Ebahra’s hand and made her put pressure on it. “Sahm you have to carry her. There will be more coming.”

“More? More what!?” He leaned down and hooked his arms behind Ebahra’s knees and carried her in his arms. Sam wasn’t that strong but he managed to carry the small woman easy enough.

“Mongors. That man was one, where there is one more will follow. They roam around like a pack of vicious animals looking for blood and violence. We have to go before more show up.” Khomu spoke quickly as he pulled some things off shelves, shoving them into a bag and slinging it over Sam’s head. He had to twist a little to the side to get the bag comfortably tucked under his arm while still holding Ebahra.

“The hell is a mongor?” He heard too many new terms in the last few days and it hurt his head.

“No time for lessons, now is time to run!” Khomu scolded him and he was right. He could ask for lessons later.

“Okay okay. Where’s the village?” Sam asked as Khomu ushered him through the door. Outside the sun was already starting to fall out of its midday spot. There was probably a couple hours of good light left, maybe four before it was getting dark.

Khomu stepped quickly and with purpose, walking to the north, at least he thought it was north. “There is a river over these hills, it runs along the mountains there.” He pointed towards a range of short mountains just a bit off in the distance. “Follow the stream, it leads right to Hradar. If I do not make it, you find Khomuran, he will help.”

Khomuran… their son. They mentioned he lived in the village. “Okay… wait, why wouldn’t you make it!?” Sam walked quickly to keep up with Khomu and looked over at him, besides the blood on his hands he didn’t see anything that looked like a wound.

“If more mongors show up I will fight them. You need to carry Ebah to the village.” Khomu spoke, still glowing a bit, faint in the sunlight.

“The hell do you mean? We can just run right!?”

“Not from these. They will chase and hunt us until they lose our trail Sahm. So promise me you’ll get her to the village. There’s a man who was a war doctor, he can help her. My son knows him.”

“Don’t talk like that we-”

“Promise me! Say it boy! You will NOT turn back for me!” Khomu’s face turned to stone as he faced Sam, eyes set in a cold fury. He couldn’t say no to him.

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“Alright, I’ll get her to the village.”

Khomu nodded and smiled. “Thank you. Now move!”

The pair of them trudged across the field, to the distant flower hills. Sam stepped quickly, throwing one foot in front of the other, trying to be careful with Ebahra in his arms. His legs burned with every step, his thighs and knees pulsing a bit with a slight burning sensation.

They marched up the hill, the added incline only made the burning worse. Every step tensed his muscles and he heaved out long breaths. The walk to the top was difficult, a little painful. But it couldn’t be nearly as bad as what Ebahra was experiencing, he knew that from his own stabbing. If he ever got the chance he’d punch Bard in the face.

Finally, they crested the hill, and looked out towards the plains below. A wide array of flowers and tall grass spread out from the hill all the way to the mountains. From the top of the hill he could see a shimmering line of clear water cutting across the land, they got to the river.

In his arms Ebahra had stopped making as much noise, now she mostly moaned a bit when he took a rough step or shook her a bit. The blood on her stomach grew, the wetness seeping onto his clothes now too. Every step brought them closer to saving her, but he was afraid that it was also making her weaker. He glanced down at the older woman, her face was already starting to look paler.

Barely an hour had passed. He looked down the river where it was flowing, there was no sign of the village. How far away were they?

Sam stepped around large rocks and patches of dirt. His feet sunk into the mud a bit with every step. He hated the feeling of wet mud and dirt between his toes but there was no time to complain. The two of them kept on following the river, Khomu stepping easily on rock and sand and all manner of debris. Meanwhile Sam felt a stab of pain run up his leg from stepping on a slightly sharp pebble.

Another hour went by with nothing but silence between them all, only Ebahra’s soft breathing and the rushing of water beside them making noise. The river wasn’t too deep from what he could tell but it was wide, maybe forty yards from bank to bank. Most of it was clear water, he could see a few fish swimming around, only the center was dark and maybe more than ten feet deep.

From inside the water he spotted small globs of light dancing around in the river. It couldn’t have been the stars, the sun was still up. The light waved, rippled against the water, and coalesced into a shape, almost like a fish, no bigger than a minnow. Made of water.

Okay so I’m going crazy, cool. He turned his head away from the water, ignoring the hallucination. It had to be his imagination, the stress, the headache, it was all just his mind playing tricks on him. That could totally happen, just under too much pressure from everything; carrying a dying woman that he wanted to save, fighting a madman - a mongor or whatever that was - then seeing his head pop, getting some blood and brain in his mouth, and now walking along a river with tired legs. Of course he was under a lot of stress and seeing shit.

He chose to just focus on Khomu, following him. The old man still glowed with a gentle light, the flair is what he and Ebahra called it. He still didn’t understand how these passions worked. What did the flair exactly do? How about the inspiration that Ebahra was talking about?

Passions. What did they all really mean? Would his love of cooking give him some kind of superpower? Khomu loved hard labor and apparently it made him strong and full of energy. The shawl Ebahra made for him hugged at his shoulders, it did make him feel quite warm as the sun started to fade, then he realized there was blood on it. Some of the mongors head juice definitely got on him, he’d wash it later.

What kind of power would cooking give me? Maybe he’d fling fire out of his hands. Nah too basic. Whatever came of his passion, he just hoped it could help save Ebahra and Khomu.

The sun began its descent past the mountains, staining the sky a darker blue/violet as the moon came into view. Swaths of red, orange, and violet painted across the sky in little patches. Stars twinkled on the dark canvas.

Night had come, and there was still no sign of the village. Sam looked down at the woman in his arms, she was still breathing, barely. Her chest barely rose, but it did, and he could feel the little bit of air coming from her mouth.

His feet began to ache as they followed the river, more than once he missed a rock and stepped on it. He wanted to stop to nurse his own pains but if he did that meant it’d just take longer. With Ebahra in his hands he would not rest until he got her to that village.

Occasionally Khomu turned to look at his wife then scanned the horizon. Sam would try to look over his shoulder as well, seeing if any more of those wild people were after them. As the last light of the sun was fading wild cries could be heard coming from behind him. Sam and Khomu turned together.

Far off on the flower hills a surge of people in dark clothing, metal weapons in hand, were barreling towards them. Sam watched as a couple dozen of them started charging towards the river, going right to them.

The mass of mongors were at least a mile away, but they came sprinting like animals chasing prey. Khomu pulled Sam by the shoulder and pushed him further down river, almost tripping him.

The man bellowed out at him “GO BOY! Get to the village!” Khomu pointed, Sam followed the finger with his eyes and saw in the distance small lights turning on.

“We can make it just run with me!” Sam pleaded. He knew what Khomu was going to do, that crazy man was going to try and fight off the oncoming horde. It took the two of them so much effort just to kill one.

“Save Ebah, Sahm! Do it!” With a strong shove Khomu pushed Sam back, he nearly fell over. Then the man turned, and ran straight at the mongors.

Sam turned away and ran alongside the river now. It didn’t take long for the sounds of fighting to start. He tried not to, but Sam turned, and saw Khomu glowing like a fire in the dark.

The old man sent a handful of the attackers back, swinging fists and grabbing bodies, throwing them and pushing down some. A spray of blood landed on him, a couple of bodies crumpled to the floor as he swung his fist in a wide arc. He fought back the wave of violence and blades, for a while. Sam watched, that was all he could do as he carried Ebahra away, but he was going to watch until the end. That shining man continued to fight, to kill the ones who were trying to kill his loved one and Sam. Eventually the light dimmed, and Sam turned, with tears in his eyes.

‘ He broke into a run, forcing his burning thighs and calves to shut up and keep moving. He followed the rushing river towards the lights in the distance, hoping there were people awake and that could fight back these insane men. Every step was painful, his arms had to readjust every few feet to keep from dropping Ebahra.

The distant light of the village came closer, now it seemed not too far off. He could actually make out some buildings, there were many in this quant place. As he approached he could hear the rustling of quick footsteps coming closer to him.

Don’t look back. You know what’s back there, just run! So he ran, his thighs were on fire. His lungs breathed in daggers of cold air that tore at his lips and tongue. The distant lights became brighter, the shadowed figures of buildings gained more definition and shape. Just a little father.

Behind him someone was breathing heavily, snarling, a beast was on his heels. He had to get away, he needed to save Ebahra, it would be the first truly good thing he did with his pathetic life he wasted. Then he felt a pain in his shoulder.

A sharp burning pain crawled across the back of his shoulder, going down to his middle back. Sam bounded forward and just kept on going, using the pain to push on. He was sure that pain was some kind of cut, he’d endured a thousand cuts in kitchens, he could endure one more. Just so long as he got to the village.

Not far now, he saw a wooden wall and people moving near a large gate at the front. He huffed out a breath and bellowed out the only thing that might catch their attention. “MONGORS! MONGORS ATTACKING!” The name had made Khomu look fearful, he hoped it made others worried enough to grab weapons. Again and again he cried out, the beast behind him still followed, was still on his back just barely out of reach.

Ebahra shook in his arms as he sprinted past the open wooden gates, crying out of attack. Someone standing by the gate ran past him holding a long stick he hoped was a spear. More screams and bellows of attack came around him. Still Sam pushed forward into the village.

By the time he collapsed onto the ground, knees scrapping on the dirt, the beast was no longer there. He turned and saw a large group of men and women with spears, torches, pitchforks, and all manner of weapons and tools at the gate where he ran through.

When he turned to look around he noticed a number of people coming to see what was going on. A few knelt beside him and spoke, but his ears were ringing, a dull buzz grew in his head. His legs lost all strength now that he wasn’t running, his stomach flared with pain, and the cut on his back burned intensely. He tried to speak, he knew his mouth was moving, hopefully his words were coherent and could actually be heard. “Save her, save Ebahra, save her.” Those were the last words going through his mind.

Someone reached in and took the kind woman’s body out of his arms. More people came, he still repeated the message. Even as they pulled him away.