Wind whipped at my face as I ran, my legs pumping harder than they’d ever before. Explosions rang out with every step I took, leaving small, scorched craters in the ground as I ignited the Flux under my feet. The force propelled me much more than my muscles could, and the combined efforts pushed me faster than I’d ever run before.
I was out of the city in a minute flat, my mind far too preoccupied to worry about the many people I’d pushed over in my path. I hardly even registered their presence as I ran, Maya’s face the only thought present in my mind. I zipped past the city gates so fast the guards didn’t have a chance to try and stop me, not that they could have anyway.
It was about a two day journey to the closest entrance of Maya’s village, but I cut that down into an hour of straight sprinting, my body so pumped on rage and adrenaline I hardly noticed the exhaustion in my legs.
I skidded to a stop only when I recognized the ditch that marked the entrance, sliding for a few meters in the dirt before I finally killed my momentum. With desperate, ragging breaths, I jumped through the illusory portal and popped out on the other side.
The first thing I registered was the smell. The thick, heavy scent of smoke attacked my nostrils as I looked over the swath of plain that lay between me and the village. Or, what was left of the village.
Fire tens of meters high raged where the village once was, sending up a plume of dark smoke so thick it looked like a pillar holding up the sky. Tears stung at my eye, though whether it was smoke or emotion that made them spring up, I didn’t know.
The sight of the village erased any bit of exhaustion that I’d been feeling, and I kicked back into high gear as I raced towards the place. Driven more by feeling than logic, I crossed the plain in seconds, appearing at the crumbling village gate before I knew it.
The heat of the fire was intense, even for me, but it wasn’t a Flux-powered flame, so mitigating it wasn't hard. I covered myself in my own flames, and the stinging on my skin was almost instantly replaced by a much more soothing heat.
Now protected from the fire, I dove in headfirst, crashing through the wooden palisade and flames and coming out on the other side.
The smoke multiplied in intensity inside the village, stinging my throat with every breath and clouding my vision. I slowed down to a walk now that I was inside, simply taking in the destruction and chaos of the inferno. I remembered the first time I’d been here, how vibrant and full of life the place had been. Every house had been so well maintained, so unique in design and decoration that each family could be identified by their homes. I remembered the celebrations of Maya’s return they’d held, how hospitable the people had been, despite not even knowing that we were the ones who’d brought their princess home.
Ash and twig crunched under my feet as I walked, cutting through the roar of the flame as I made my way to the center of the village. Embers, like millions of fireflies, danced in the orange glow, going up in a flurry with every collapsing building. I recognized some of the places through the fire, spotting the fallen and burning sign of Uncle Boldy’s famous Goldberry wine shop and restaurant, along with other places that Tampter had pointed out to us that day.
Worse than the broken buildings, though, were the bodies. There weren’t many of them, thankfully, and none I recognized, but every arm I saw poking through the fire was like a dagger stabbing into my chest, every lifeless body lying on the dirt a kick to my gut.
I realized, though, that almost all the dead villagers I saw had died before the fire, each of them marked by previous wounds. Most also had weapons clutched in their hands, some proper, some clearly homemade. But the lack of any dead knights told me enough about how their resistance had gone.
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Eventually, I found myself at the center of the village, finding the mother of the grove still standing tall and proud amid the destruction. The life force of the tree seemed to be so strong the fire couldn’t burn a single leaf on its branches, much less raze it to the ground. The same, unfortunately, couldn’t be said about the Fiercewater Hall that had once stood by the tree. The once grand hall had already caved in on itself, wrecked beyond recognition. There was not a trace of what had once been such a majestic statement of the Clan’s strength.
Littered about the clearing with the Hall were more bodies, more than I’d seen on my way combined. But, surprisingly, almost half the bodies on the ground were black armored knights this time – Zayr’s men, undoubtedly. The sight of them gave me a grim sense of satisfaction, the knowledge that Evelyn and her people had taken down some of Zayr’s force with them providing a small comfort. But, more worryingly, I realized there were more dead knights on the ground than I’d known Zayr had brought, which meant I’d underestimated the size of Zayr’s force. I’d only ever seen the boy with a dozen or so guards and only the one A Ranked knight, Dryon, but taking in the sight before me, it seemed like the boy had brought almost a small army with him to Wolfhaven. And given the fact they’d taken down Evelyn, who was most certainly an A Rank, Zayr may have even been hiding another A Rank in his force.
After ensuring I didn’t recognize any of the dead villagers, I continued on my way, aiming for the central clearing with the Clan founder’s statue.
It took another minute or two to get there, but I eventually found myself standing at the edge of clearing, the place where, as I’d suspected, it seemed the Fiercewater Clan had staged their last stand. Dozens of fallen men and women covered the ground, again almost an equal number of villagers to knights. But however many of the knights they’d slain, it seemed it hadn’t been enough, for they’d surrendered in the end.
I stood unmoving in that clearing, in that space that held their last resistance. The garden of death and rot where the proud people of the Fiercewater Clan, under the watchful gaze of their scholarly founder, had finally laid to rest their way of life.
I looked up at the scorched statue, studying the kind, bespectacled face of a man who’d believed in peace over strength, and felt a calm spread through my chest. It was a noble belief, one I knew I’d never be able to deride, but at that moment, I finally let go of it. No matter where it was, so long as life existed, beauty could not thrive without the strength to defend itself. And if I wanted to make something beautiful out of my life, something like the founder had created, I needed to have the strength to defend it. Or else it would crumble at the hands of the ruthless.
The sounds of screams brought me out of my rumination. I moved immediately, shocked to think that someone was still alive. The sound seemed to be coming from the other side of the statue, and as I moved around it, I found the source.
Four Elders, three men and one woman, hung by their feet from the back of the founder’s head. They swung about, screaming as loud as their feeble voices could, their robes hanging loosely about them.
My mind worked quickly as I took in the sight, and it didn’t take long for me to figure out what had happened. None of the pity I should have felt filled me, my heart going cold instead at the sight of the Elders.
“You!”I yelled up at them, catching their attention. The screaming and sobbing stopped for a moment as they all turned towards me, before it began again in earnest. I smiled darkly, knowing what I must have looked like to them. Covered in my own scarlet flames, they probably thought I was a demon born of the inferno, come to reap their lives.
“Where are they?” I yelled up to them, not bothering to correct their assumption or allay their fears. After all, I couldn't yet say I wasn’t exactly what they feared I was. “Where are the villagers? Where did they take them?”
A moment of incoherent mumbling followed before one of the Elders finally found his voice. “Leyley’s Auction House!” the man yelled down at me. “They said they’d put them up for auction in the city, and Leyley’s is the biggest one, so the villagers are most likely in their warehouse!”
The man’s words sent a cold chill down my spine, confirming what I’d been hoping wasn’t true. Knowing there wasn’t much time left, I turned around and made to leave, but the panicked yells of the Elders stopped me.
“Wait! Wait! Please, save us! Please!” they yelled. “We didn’t mean for things to turn out like this! We swear! We swear on the Forest God!”
I stared at them, feeling nothing but a cold emptiness in my chest. Tampter had long talked about how a faction of the Elders had been wanting to worm their way into the good graces of a certain prince. There was no doubt in my mind the Elders before me were the ones who’d reached out to Zayr, likely behind Evelyn’s back.
“You all made your bed,” I called back to the Elders, turning my back to them. “Now burn in it.”