It was a truly dreadful sight.

When he had first began to walk the ravaged streets of Viemen, Ellis felt as if he had entered another world. A horrid, miserable world, where joy had been stripped away, discarded unceremoniously, and replaced with grim death. Viemen was unrecognizable to him. There was a kind of sublimeness to the destruction; flattened mounds of smoking rubble were littered across the horizon with an unearthly uniformity. There were no merry sounds of passersby nor the chattering of friendly neighbors. There was only a muffled silence and the sound of bitter wind.

And then they saw the bodies.

Mangled, charred, twisted and splayed in ghoulish poses, encased forever in the anguish of their final moments. The smell too was foul. Though there were many who met their end by tortured flame, there were many more who fell victim by other means. In the dragon’s initial assault, there had been those who died instantly from the rain of fire. In mere moments, the conflagration had spread to engulf the town square. Smoke had risen too high and was spread too thick. There were few who could see through the smog nor breathe as they ran, and so they fell to suffocation and died on the street. Then there were those who had tried to escape the fury by retreating inside nearby houses and storefronts, thinking them sturdy and safe, only to be stricken with terror when they came crashing down from a single swing of the dragon’s mighty tail. Those who had not died immediately had lingered in pain until they bled out. While others still had managed to crawl from their rubbled prisons out onto the street, only to be taken by the smog.

Ellis had felt relief after they had managed to claim victory over such an enemy; but that joy was obliterated in a second, replaced with this abhorrent scene. He then felt a firm hand grip his shoulder.

“Its alright to be upset or even mad,” Albert said softly, “But there will be time to grieve afterwards. Right now, they need our help.”

A mix of citizens, Starspawn and Rothwell’s militia had already begun gathering up the bodies. They were laid out unevenly in several piles along what empty spaces could be found amidst the rubble.

“What do we need to do?” Ellis asked.

Lyusya stepped forward and removed the cloak from her back.

“We need to clear the rubble,” she said, “That way, the carts can come through to collect the fallen.”

“Where will they take them?” Mary asked.

Albert removed the weapons from his belt and rolled up his sleeves.

“They are starting to dig several large pits outside of the north gate. The bodies will be buried there, far away from the river.”

“Isn’t that too cruel?” Mary asked, “All of them, thrown together like that?”

“There is no time for consideration,” Albert said with a sigh. “If we wait too long, disease will set in and everyone will be at risk. There is simply not enough time to dig hundreds of proper graves.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Accepting the reality of their circumstances, the group silently began their grim chores.

Ellis and Albert joined several other men who were tasked with removing the largest pieces of fallen beams and blackened wood. Joined by another man, the three of them headed over to an untouched area and started lifting the rubble away. Ellis felt his stomach sink as they hoisted a large portion of mangled wood and the twisted face of a dead woman stared back at him with glassy eyes. He bit down the lump in his throat and continued lifting with the others. They tossed the piece of wood into an adjacent pile, sending out a spray of dust and ash as it landed.

“Careful of the nails,” Albert said as he brushed off his hands. He stared a few moments at the corpse beneath him; then he waved over another group of men who came and took away the body.

Several hours of miserable labor went by and Ellis quickly lost count of the corpses he had seen. Mary too had gone numb to it all, working with Lyusya to remove those garments and clothing which remained intact from the bodies. After all, there were not enough resources to waste, and winter would be arriving soon.

In time, the road was cleared enough that over a dozen carts could be brought in. The teams then switched to loading the bodies into the carts one at a time, heaving them between each other like sacks of rotten potatoes. With each passing hour the men and women who worked grew darker and colder in their hearts. Expressions like corpses were worn heavy on the living as they handled the unseemly business of the dead. Before long, there were none who spoke, for there were no more words that were needed.

To dispose of the dead— this was their task.

Ellis positioned himself between the legs of a middle aged man. His body was bruised all over and his chest caved inward, leaving an uneven contour that would before have made him nauseous. But as they bent down and lifted his body up, a rising commotion broke through their sterile quietude. A crowd of people were making their way from the southern road toward the town square. Leading their procession was Mayor Rothwell on horseback, with Julius walking beside him. Ellis and the others stopped what they were doing and waited as the caravan approached. One by one the talking ceased as those who approached took in slowly the scene before them. The people became silent, holding close to one another and hanging their heads in mourning.

From the closest grouping of townsfolk, a woman suddenly dropped her bag and ran forward.

“Robert!”

The woman threw herself into Ellis and shoved at him.

“What are you doing! Put him down!”

Startled, Ellis let go and stepped back as the man fell onto the ground.

“Mother, please!”

A young woman broke from the crowd and ran to her mother’s side. She wrapped her arms around her mother and pleaded desperately as her eyes grew misty.

“Let go of me!” the woman shouted as she pushed her daughter away, “Wake up, Robert! Please! Wake up!”

“Mother,” the daughter sobbed as her voice broke, “He’s gone—”

“No! Don’t you say it Jenn—not you!”

She shook Robert’s corpse as the tears poured from her eyes; but there was nothing left of him to answer her.

“No…” the woman sobbed, “Not my Robert…”

She tenderly brushed the hair from her husband’s face, but his hollow eyes were too much for her to bear. The woman collapsed into her daughters arms, clutching desperately at her shawl. The echoes of her sullen cry hung heavy over the hearts of those who watched. All who were previously working now stood in silence. There were none who felt differently, nor were there any who would take from her this final opportunity to say goodbye.