The sounds of shouting was distant, as my own home was built at a bit of a distance away from the village's bulk. I shot up, awake and prepared for the fight that will likely come, without a shirt and only in trousers. It's better to wear some sort of cloth around your body, any bit of protection is good. Grabbing the tunic that was laid near the fire and putting it on, I grabbed my shield, my copper sword, and my spear. I don't know how many people there are out there, and if there's enough of our men fighting then a spear would be preferable. Otherwise, it's the sword that I'll be using most.

 Running out I made a quick assessment of the situation. The chief's house, my father's home, didn't look all that active. Although it was dark, and even with my vision being adjusted, it could be that I can't see anyone. In the village proper fires were roaring in the fields, the crops not yet fully harvested. Some houses were also on fire. This was somewhat beyond the level of a normal raid, ideally acquiring resources yourself rather than burning it would be wanted.

 Regardless, my duty first came to my parents and my siblings. I ran towards the direction of my old home, ignoring the yelling of men and the occasional beating of wood. Most likely the sound was coming from impacts against shields. Hopefully the less experienced men would understand how to hold a shield properly, and not use it purely for defense.

 The distance between my new home and father's isn't that great. Within less than a minute I was within the entrance, and for my own safety I began to call out to my parents. I didn't want to get stabbed because they thought I was an intruder, a raider.

 "Father! Mother! I'm here, call out if you're still here!" Whatever came to mind I yelled, and that was what came.

 "Elgin, what are you doing here and not out protecting my village?" Dad came out, almost casual in gait, fully clothed and equipped with his weapons. A spear in his hand, and a shield in the other. I would guess he had his own sword within his own sheath, just as I did.

 "I needed to be sure my family was safe, my duty first is with my blood and second to anyone else. You've been woken up as well, and I assume that no one has come and attacked your home?" Almost taken back my voice took a near pleading tone, but I correctly corrected myself and regained a sense of formality. Of course I would come here first.

 "Right. Good choice, follow me. The family is safe and it's better to keep it that way." Dad, despite being a man in his thirties, was still willing to go out and defend the village himself. With some new found respect I followed my father towards the village proper, as most of the fighting seemed to have been going on in the outskirts it might be wrong to assume the fighting would happen within the center. I didn't look back or check on the state of anyone else.

 Or perhaps I was wrong. The outer fields were on fire, sure, but that didn't mean any fighting was going on there. Men, armed with spears that glistened in the flickering light of fires, bodies laid out in the pathways, but it was almost too dark to see how wounded they were. Even if the sun was out, in his majesty, perhaps it wouldn't be obvious through eyesight to tell whether they were wounded.

 But my sight allowed for something beyond that granted to most. Dancing fires could be seen, not material ones but spiritual ones, spirits of bloodshed echoing out words to those who can hear it. But the words themselves weren't of triumph, they were songs of death. Men could be seen fighting in other areas, quick slashes leading to easy and deadly wounds. It didn't seem there were many raiders. Why would they come and fight and die when they were so outnumbered?

 But that meant nothing to me at the moment. I would taste my first fight, and regardless of who is slaughtered I would be given the chance to show my mettle. But as if to spite my growing excitement, father began running to defend his people, small groups of men fighting against larger forces. Most of the men were poorly equipped, simple spears fighting against equally simple spears, on both sides most men held shields. There wasn't more to be expected of freemen.

 I ran alongside dad, meeting the back of a group of five fighting against an equal force of five. Judging by the faces of the men in front of us, the ones we could see, the people we were about stab in the back were the raiders. The enemies. I ran faster, just to get the first blood. My spear entered within the back of one of the men, I had aimed to stab at his heart. The sensation wasn't so grand as I thought it would be, it didn't feel much different from stabbing any other animal. The sound of the dying man quickly alerted the rest of the men that enemies were at the back, but that only gave way to disorder.

 I stabbed another man somewhere in his abdomen and retreated somewhat, keeping my shield ready to block any incoming spears. The men who tried to turn around instead revealed themselves to the points of villagers, and the men of five were quickly dealt with. Systematically, callously, trained.

 I looked around for any more signs of fighting. Some of my people were being killed, that was true, but most of the deaths looked to have come from the raiders, many of them looking to make their retreats. That I wouldn't allow.

 "Elgin."

 I snapped to attention, moving my sight towards the direction of the sound. My dad was looking at me, his spear somewhat bloodied. "What?" I asked, annoyed.

 "I said follow me, we're going to follow the men retreating. You guys as well, follow." His words simple, but he acted like he was repeating himself. I had not heard him speak, had I been too engrossed by the prospect of more fighting that I filtered out the voices of the people near me? That would be a first.

 "Lead, then. I didn't need to follow you to begin with." I began to run towards the men, ignoring any response my own dad would give. I had some experience fighting against groups, I could hold my own until help arrived. And all the more thrilling and honorable my fighting would be.

 The men themselves were beginning to run, but some had already caught sight of my coming. Preparing themselves and forming a shield wall, something I didn't want them to do, I slowed down into a jog and waited for the help of others. It'd be one thing to jump into the fray of men, mad with fear and running for their lives. Another for men resolving themselves to fight against an opponent, and using any means necessary to achieve that. Why else would the form a loose wall?

 But they were outnumbered. Even if I slowed down, and even if I was just one man, I would imagine the sight of other villagers behind me, coming to my aid, was enough to scare them away. One man began to run, and then another. Soon all of the men were running, none dropping their weapons or shields. Some honor was in them afterall. Even despite rationally knowing they weren't running from me per se, the sight of men running from my presence was addictive.

 They were running towards the fields, towards the outer range of our village. Into the trees. But that wasn't the fastest route towards the forest, which I would think they would want to run towards. In fact, it was the slowest method of entering into the forest. What were they planning? Would there be an ambush ahead? I stopped and waited for more villagers to come, which they did. Some tried to run past by I grabbed one before he could get far. He looked at me in confusion, in anger.

 "Wait, there's likely a trap up ahead."

 "How do you know that?" This one's tone was particularly harsh. His voice deep, almost reverberating into my own chest.

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 "A hunch. Just trust me, there isn't much glory in stabbing the backs of running men, anyway. If I'm right, you'll be dead if you keep following them."

 He laughed in my face and shook my hold off, and continued to run towards the men. Several others followed, but most of the men stayed where I stopped. Perhaps they heard me. One of those men was my father, his face calm and collected, and his posture as dignified as ever.

 "Think we should stop them?" I asked, looking over to dad to make sure he's the one who answers. He shakes his head.

 "No. If the fools want to charge to their deaths, let them. Better to know the number of our enemies, and to not ourselves suffer most of the consequences. The loss isn't great, anyway."

 Callous. I nodded, and watched as the men continued into the forest. Their figures were soon engulfed in darkness, and no longer could any of us catch sight of any of them.

 We waited long minutes. No sounds could be heard, and the men ignored the burning of buildings. Crying of children could be heard in the background, but other than that everything was quiet. However, eventually figures started to emerge from the dark. Men, all holding shields, spears in hand. They out numbered us. By a lot. We had roughly forty men around us, down from the original fifty of the able bodied men of our village. Ten were either killed within the chaos, or were out doing something else. Perhaps dying in the woods, for all I knew.. The force ahead of us was at least four times greater.

 This cemented it. This wasn't a raid. In my mind, a shock of realization appeared, and the sentiment repeated itself. This wasn't a raid. This was going to be a slaughter. My dad turned to me, and started to speak. A soft whisper, just enough for me to hear. I would've heard what he had to say, if I didn't hear one of our men shout.

 "Behind us! Are houses are catching fire, and the chief's! It's been set ablaze!"

 I rapidly turned around. More than the fire, there were men behind us, as armed as the men in font of us. And my father's home was in fact set ablaze. I felt my blood freeze. We were surrounded, and more than that, my family was in danger. Perhaps already dead.

 I charged at the men who had appeared behind us, shoving the men who didn't move fast enough out of the way. There was roughly twenty or so of them, but I didn't care. They were blocking my path.

 No one was following me, I could be certain of that. The men, now to my front, stood at attention at my coming. Their structure was lazy, their spears vaguely pointing at me. I will breaking through the center, past them, and ruin whatever structure they've built in order to get past. I was close enough, they weren't all that far to begin with. I grabbed my spear in an overhand, and within moments was within their stabbing distance. Not my own stabbing distance, I would need to get closer for that. I bashed two spears, thrusting towards me, away, and through instinct managed to dodge another aiming towards my abdomen.

 That was enough. I slammed into one of the men, stabbing as I did so with my own spear, tumbling into the ground behind the formation and sending the men into a slight panic. A spear was being thrust at me, once again, but I fended it off with the edge of my shield, taking out my sword and hitting away another. This was a lot more dangerous than I thought, and other than the man who I was certain would die soon from my own spear thrust, I would be killed if I didn't get close enough to the men.

 But I could also run. These men were less important than any who might be attacking my own home. And they would be stupid to ruin their formation and chase after me. So I ran, leaving my spear impaled on the dying man. Less weight for me,

 Perhaps only two seconds had passed from my reckless charge and breakthrough, and I was relatively sure none of the men would throw their own spears at me. If they had javelins they would've used them by now, too. So I ran with confidence, sword in my right hand and shield in the other. It felt as if I was in a dream, my legs took me as fast as they could go and I felt not even the barest shred of exhaustion touch me. I needed this, every second counted now. I needed to sprint.

 The mad dash towards my own home was rewarded with the near sight of my old burning house. I could hear the pigs squealing in the background, probably getting slaughtered. But that didn't matter. No one was within the entrance, but I could more or less see everything from the outside in. Bodies were laid. Some with their heads chopped off, others simple holding on to wounds. All most likely dead. All bloody. I didn't think about who they belonged to. I didn't think.

 I heard yelling within the woods, through the squealing of the woolly pigs as they got slaughtered. I ignored their squealing, once again, and rain towards the direction, my legs noticeably slower. But exhaustion, the feeling of tirdeness, hadn't yet crept in. Good, let's keep it that way. Don't think too hard.

 I could see the sign of disturbance within the ground. I followed it, and followed the yelling, until I came across the sight of a figures, clouded in darkness, fighting against a small figure, trying to subdue it for whatever goal they wanted to achieve. I don't know who the small figure is, but from the outline I could guess. I continued to run, swinging my sword towards the neck of one of the men and punching the other with the edge of my shield. There was two, one of my blows would be fatal and the other would grant some distance.

 The moonlight barely gave me vision of who I was protecting. A young girl, with fiery red hair was bloodied, dazed at my entrance, but otherwise normal. I didn't give her beyond half a second of attention. I turned towards the man who I had not yet struck, as I would guess he would've gotten the wits to attack, and was met with a sword thrust aimed at me. A noble, then. I didn't know whether he was holding a shield, I didn't pay enough attention.

 I took a step back, outside of the range of the thrust, and brought the shield up to block. He didn't manage to stab me, which was good, but he made distance. Which was bad. I quickly went forward, shield in preparation, and attempted to cut the man. Using my shield as a guard, I combined the protection of the shield with the lethality of my copper sword, protecting myself while attempting to cut. If I could wound him now, it would be best. But I wanted to know what other weapons he himself held, so I didn't invest too much energy into the attack.

 My shield was met with the wooden impact of another shield, and he attempted to direct my energy more forward. Perhaps to grapple me, which also wasn't in my interest. Or to cut at my back. But I took a step back and reorganized my strategy, thus saving myself from either of those things. Right, he had a shield. And my vision was once again starting to adjust within the darkness.

 The man in front of me was about my height, which wasn't all that impressive. I wasn't massive myself, although I was on the taller side. To his left, a man was getting up, holding onto his head, spear in the other. He held no shield. The swordsmen began to walk towards the recovering man, to protect him from my attacks. Smart. But terrible, for me. I would need to be aggressive.

 I took steps forward, shield ready to impact against his, to try to move it away from his body and reveal the flesh it tried to protect. I slammed my shield against his, forcing it to move somewhat, and with my right hand positioned it above my left. If done right, I'd hope I would give him a fight ending cut, protecting myself and slashing him at the same time.

 But he was experienced. He met my own shield, and twisted it so that he could move it upward, revealing my own flank to him. Shoot. I exploded backwards as fast as I could, burning in me a light cut. I could survive despite it, I could tell it was only superficial. I got back in a proper stance, and tried to gouge my opponent better. The spearmen was more or less recovered, and starting to enter into the fight. At least, he would've, if not for a spear flying into him from behind me.

 I didn't have the time to look back. I took the opportunity to charge at the swordsmen, shield forward, aiming to force him back rather than attack. He moved back, unsure of himself, probably more surprised than scared. I kept thrusting at him with my shield, trying to exploit a gap and stab or cut at him with my sword at the same time. But he quickly recovered, and within my heart I could feel that he was preparing a strike of his own.

 I feinted a move towards the upper portion of his shield. He moved downward, expecting me to commit, trying to do the same maneuver he cut me with before. But instead of pushing upward, I pushed towards the direction of his sword, blocking it so that his swing was stopped prematurely. This gave me an opportunity, which I had already prepared to take. Staring at the man's face, his eyes were dark, but his hair light. I stabbed towards his neck, and was granted purchase within it, ending the fight within that moment. I retreated before he could let out any dying throes against me, even with a stab to the neck it wasn't certain he wouldn't have the energy to fight back.

 I looked behind me, at whoever could've thrown that spear. The same fiery headed girl was standing there. Her grey eyes wide and twitchy. Damhnait, at least, was alive.