A flash of light.

Muffled thunder in the distance.

Drizzle of rain, the breeze cool and slight.

Picturesque view of a green landscape. Low rolling hills with a dirt road winding between them.

Sporadic groups of trees are scattered about. A lone-grown maple stands full out atop a hill close by.

“STOP!” I tell Marxist. A little more authoritative than I had intended.

Stepping out of the wagon, stepping forward in front of it, I stare at this lone maple tree up on a hill that has been hit with lightning.

I blink as my memories and vision clear. I look up, there is no rain, and it is still a clear day. “I have been here before.” I walk forward on the road gathering my thoughts as the wagon follows a few car lengths back, giving me some space.

I find myself farther up the road, standing and staring at a marked-off section of grass. I remember the screams that brought me here, but not how I arrived. “I remember three men. Two are arranging tied-up children on the ground, here.” I point. “The third starts to chase after a child that has partially loosened her ropes and is running off.” I point off to the right, where I remember them running. Reaching up to the back of my head, I feel the memory of pain and the sound like the thump of a melon being smashed.

Looking back to the tree on the top of the hill, I start walking toward it. I notice Officer Trailbreaker and Marxist following on foot now, I pay them no mind. Reaching the top, the Maple tree is not as damaged as I would have thought. It is blackened and you can visibility see where the lightning strike started, running down the bark into the ground. Then charred ground leading to a sword placed where a headstone should be, at an open grave.

It is to note, that this sword looks to have taken a severe lightning strike, the pommel melted at its highest point. From the intersection of the sword and the ground, the charred grass fans out through the open grave and back down the hill. “That’s one.” Pointing to a charred spot next to the sword.

I feel my anger rising as I remember, following the path of the strike back down the hill. A burnt footprint interrupted one of the charred paths. “That’s two.” Indicating the burnt boot print.

Back by the marked-off section of grass, officers are removing and cleaning up this coordain off section. Stepping a few more paces, I raise my right hand and cut down diagonally with an imaginary shovel. “This is where he was holding Jenn.” One of the Officers taking some quick notes and marking my position on the ground. “That’s three.”

Turning to Officer Trailbreaker. “I remember three men, but there has to be another. Someone hit me when I was first standing here.” Officer Trailbreaker holds up a hand to pause the other officers that are taking up the ropes, marking off this section. “I didn’t get a look at who hit me.”

Officer Trailbreaker, to the other officers on the scene. “Remark and expand this area. Make sure to include where Doug is standing.

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Looking down the road while the officers mark off the area again, I ask Marxist. “Where does this road lead?”

“It follows around Community Farms, then straight up to Willow Brook.” Turning back around, Marxist points. “This leads back around the other side of Awakening Farms, then splits back into Greens Brook on the far side. Havens Brook is beyond if you kept going straight.”

“Marxist, you can go ahead and bring Doug back.” Turning, Officer Trailbreaker then says to me. “Thank you for your help. Try not to let the fairies out.” He gives me a half-smile. “You still owe me some more work, but we’re even for now.” He turns back to supervise the site. Marxist and I head back to the wagon and continue on.

Not turning the wagon around, Marxist drives forward. “It’s faster from here to turn at the next split.” Sure enough, we take a right at the split. Up a slight incline and through a stand of trees, we come out at the archery field. “Normally we don’t drive this way, because of the children. There are no rules against it, just safer if we only use the main entrance.”

It’s early evening as we head back down the road to the Community Farms' main buildings. There are more people around than there were before. Coming closer and passing the Paladins tent, vendor tents and carts have popped up. It’s now more like a small festival, without the rides and attractions. Marxist drops me off at the main building, then continues on, I assume back to Awakening Farms to drop off the wagon.

I take a deep breath and let it out. I scan the area, the activity certainly has picked up. “Well LORD, what do I do now?” I ask myself out loud. There are a few children with families. If you knew what it was like before, you would know that most of the people here now don’t fit into that ideal.

Looking around, I see Jaxx across the way, over by the training dummy, picking up the training equipment that we were using. I remember someone saying he was our resident silver plate. I’m already quick-stepping it across the road over to him.

Coming up to him, I call out as I get close. “Jaxx. Got a minute?” He pauses and just looks up at me. He’s carrying most of the training equipment, a couple of wooden swords are still leaning up against the building.

I pick up the wooden swords and start to follow him. He is already making his way back into the fitness center. I help hold a few items for him, while he’s trying to hold his pass up to unlock the door.

“I wanted to ask for some adventuring help, a few days from now if you could spare the time,” I ask.

Putting his foot in the door to hold it open for me. “What did you have in mind?” he asks.

“I think they are going to make another attempt for some children, in three days.” He turns and gives me a more serious look as the door closes behind me. “I was hoping that you would keep an eye out towards the archery range. I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet, but I’ll be out there somewhere.”

“You tell anyone else about this yet?” He questions.

“Just Officer Trailbreaker,” I answer.

“Good.” After finishing putting the training equipment away, he turns back to me after a moment. “I don’t want you going out there looking for anything.” He states firmly. “That’s how people get hurt. Not you so much, but whoever you happen to find out there, that may have nothing to do with it.” Taking a more authoritative stance. “This is what the Paladin, Rangers, and the other law enforcement departments are for. What they are trained in.”

Giving me a few moments to digest what he is asking me to do, Jaxx continues. “I see you’re still thinking about what you are going to do.” I turn my focus more fully on him. “That’s why I rank where I do, and one of the reasons you do not. More adventurers are killed and maimed from being attacked by another party than you could ever believe.” I guess I could believe that. “Just the fact that you think something is going to be out there, might get someone hurt.” He’s waiting for my reaction.

That’s certainly where my head was at. I know there are people around. I didn’t think about someone getting hurt that could have just been minding their own business.

“Good.” He says. “Glad you have some sense.” He starts to step past me, heading back out. “I have some errands to run. I’ll talk to Trailbreaker when I see him. You make sure you don’t get anyone hurt.” I follow him out and watch him head off towards the retirement community housing.

*****

I find myself back where Marxist dropped me off, by the main building. I have to say that I do agree with Jaxx, I don’t want to get anyone hurt. Although the question remains ‘Decide what you want to do’. What am I going to do?

I’ve got nothing.

If this was an online game, I would start power leveling or farming. Wouldn’t be a bad idea. Just start walking around Blessing, everyone. More than a few children here that need it. I’m supposed to be a Priest. How would that even work? Do I have spells? Do I level? Do I pray? Meditate?

Again, I’ve got nothing. Nothing but guessing.

As if on cue, a family passes me by. Looks like two parents, each holding a hand of the child between them. An older sibling trailed behind. I can see the Blue ID hanging around the smaller child’s neck, so I know he’s under a Healer’s care.

Blessing “Bless you.” I say to the child, as they pass me by. The parents nod and smile appreciatively as they enter the building.

I guess it’s a start. At least I made an effort.