“Spirit Weapons were created by mages who favored hand to hand combat. They are spells that only need to be cast once and forever afterwards will be bound to a wielder's body.” - From the desk of Spirit Mages

Tears streamed down Siwan’s face as she watched her village burn. The horde of Dructini swarmed the streets, breaking off into smaller groups as they searched for villagers. She prayed to the Ilo they wouldn’t find any, that the villagers would have run far away out of town.

“Pray all you like, it won’t change a thing.” Botchin said, he took a seat next to her and signaled to the hooded men. “Let her go, anything she tries I’ll simply return to her village exactly what she tries to do.” He looked at her and smiled. It was a cruel smile. Siwan had seen the type of smile before, it was one that was very familiar to her. Lots of merchants passed through the village and would try to swindle the villagers with their goods from far off lands. Those merchants always smiled when they were charging well above reasonable prices, it was always a cruel smile. She narrowed her eyes at Botchin, tears still welled in the corner of her eyes.

“I know it doesn’t matter what I do, you'll kill them anyway.” She said, turning from him to look at her burning village. She tried to keep her face calm but her mind was in torment as it raced to find anything she could do to break out. On a normal day she’d probably be able to outrun Botchin, but the Hooded Ones had caught up to her before. She was also still very much injured and even moving her foot caused pain. There was only one way she could play it, she would have to try and negotiate with him.

Before she could think of anything though, his words cut through her focus.

“No, I don’t think I’ll kill them, not all of them anyways.” He took the luminous sword blade he carried out of its sheath and began to hold it up to the sky. Siwan noted that the sword looked familiar to one’s she had seen in paintings before. Botchin continued though, not looking to see if she was paying attention. “You need people to run a village, and I’m sure my men will need company after all.”

Now was her chance, Siwan thought, and began to add to his statement.

“Those people won’t follow you, they’ll always be waiting for a way out.” Her eyes trailed towards the sword. Botchin pointed the sword at the town and stared down the blade.

“It’s likely, some will likely escape too.” He said

“So why bother trying if you know how it’ll end?” She asked. She pulled her foot close to inspect the damage. One of the hooded men stepped forward at the slight movement but Botchin waved him away without even looking over.

“Just as soon you believe a fate to be certain, it becomes uncertain.” Botchin stated. Siwan raised an eyebrow quizzically but it went unnoticed. “That’s an old Dructini proverb,” he turned to look over at her. “You see, in my country we believe the more possible a future is, the more that will happen to challenge it from happening.” He ran a hand down the cold blade. “And so the more people try to leave ‘my’ village, the more things will happen to make them stay.”

Siwan shuddered. Visions of what might happen to the villagers crossed her mind. Families falling victim to sudden ‘accidents’ just as they tried to leave. She knew she had to stop him here before it could get any worse. ‘I’ve got to stop him here.’ She thought. As soon as the thoughts crossed her mind, so too did she feel Botchins blade up against her neck.

“Our lives walk on an edge, Fellbest, do not be so quick to throw yourself off.” Botchin said, his eyes closed as he moved the blade away from her throat. Siwan’s heart pounded, her breathing felt like it was coming too slow. She was beginning to panic. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘If he was going to kill me, he would’ve done it there.’ She thought, followed by. ‘What if he’s just toying with me, what if all this is for his amusement?’ Her thoughts began to spiral. She looked at her hands, they were still fair colored, but how long would it take for them to decay? For the worms and maggots to set in? Would her body be alone out here and left to rot where nobody would find it? She closed her eyes to try and push the thoughts out of her mind but the harder she pushed the less it worked. She could hear the Hooded men speaking behind her, the sound of their clicked tongues rang through her head. She could feel them move behind her, disturbing the air as they approached her. Botchin had stood back up and was looking over the village again, not paying attention to her nor the Hooded men. Were they preparing to kill her? Was this going to be the end for her? Her muscles tensed, ready to spring for one last effort to get away. They were getting close behind her now, too close, too close. Her heart raced, she heard their bodies thump against the floor. She opened her eyes, their bodies hit the floor? She whirled around and found none other than Thorn approaching from behind. His purple eyes glinted from beneath the sharp carapace of his head, they seemed to glow in the night as he strode towards Botchin with his knives. Poison dripped from his twin blades, falling onto the grass below as it mingled with the blood of the hooded men.

Botchin turned slowly, his sword was in his hand but he kept it pointed to the ground, keeping a casual stance.

“You shouldn’t have done that Thorn.” He said as he looked at his two men.

“They’ll be fine in the morning.” Thorn smiled, shining the rows of his sharpened teeth. “Though the same can’t be said for you.” He added.

Botchin turned his head back to the village and swung his sword several times to get a feel for it.

“You said there was a festival happening tonight in this village, a great burning.” He looked back at Thorn. “There’s no need to be upset with me, I’m just partaking in it.”

“The only thing you’ll be partaking in tonight is the Eternal March.” Thorn spat. Botchin simply laughed, not a long laugh Siwan noted, it was barely above a polite laugh yet it felt laced with malice.

“The tales of your kind do not threaten me, I’ve no use for your fairytales.”

Thorn snarled and drew back into a crouch, flipping his blades around so he was holding them in a reverse grip.

Botchin stepped towards him and passed Siwan, swinging his sword against the night air. He continued. “No use for your fairytales, and no use for you anymore. Your lack of ability to deliver a single dragon is pathetic.” He gestured to the village and Siwan. “All of this could have been prevented if you were but a better merchant.”

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“I should never have done business with you in the first place.” Thorn growled. Botchin shrugged and seemed to ponder for a moment. Then he was at Thorn’s throat, arm back and blade ready to thrust. Sparks flew into the night as Thorn managed to bring his daggers up just in time to deflect the blow off to the side.

Botchin smiled at him. “I’ll make sure this is your last time doing business as well.” He pulled back for another attack but Thorn was quicker, he whirled around and using the momentum was able to knock Botchin’s sword off to the side. It wasn’t enough to get it out of his grip though and Botchin brought his other fist towards Thorn in retaliation..

Siwan watched the two begin their fight and realized if she wanted to get out of there, now was her chance. Her heart pounded as she tried to stand up but quickly fell back down, letting out a small cry of pain. She refused to be beaten by just her legs and began to crawl on her belly towards the village. The clashing of their blades rang out in the air as the sun finally dipped below the horizon. The crackle of flames and the sound of steel on steel behind her drove her forward. If she could keep moving she may be able to find safety somewhere in town.

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Siwan tried to keep her teeth gritted but the searing pain of her leg kept her wincing and grunting aloud. She had made it far enough away from Thorn and Botchin that their swords sounded distant enough. The moon was rising but the flames on the village made it feel like it was still daytime, or some hellish form of night. Someone had also lit the Flame Bonfire in the town square, or maybe the flames had reached there, Siwan wasn’t quite sure. She pulled herself onwards, the grass and dirt clung to her dress, not that she minded but she was sure to be scolded for it later. If any of the maids or servants survived, she was certain Nerri would be the one to tease her for it. A smile curled the corners of her lips, of course it would be the poorest maid who’d get upset over a ruined dress.

She breathed a sigh of relief as her fingers felt the cold stone in the village. After everything so far, the stone felt as good as returning home. She quickly scanned the area for any armed men, but the streets were empty, ransacked and burning. There sounded to be people engaged in a fight further into town. She crawled over to a nearby house that was still ablaze, the heat singed her eyebrows and she raised a hand to shield her eyes, though it didn’t last long as she quickly felt the heat on her hand as well. She crawled back from the fire and lay her head on the ground. Her legs still wouldn’t support her weight and her arms felt more like soggy bread.

“Someone help.” She whispered under her breath, praying that by some miracle someone would come to save her.

As she closed her eyes she prayed they would come fast.

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Hawar hid behind a barrel as he watched Mokk and Solle fight the scavengers. There seemed to be no end to them as they came out of building and other streets, swarming the two men. Yet, no matter how many men rushed them, the two had no trouble taking them out of the fight. With each foe they defeated though, the two men’s attacks seemed to be slower and slower. Hawar watched as Solle swung the mighty chunk of metal around, using the momentum of his body to propel it forward as he lunged or whirled around for an attack. At first each movement as precise and fast, but now Solle looked to pause for just a moment after each attack. Hawar looked back to his teacher who had his spellbook floating out in front of him, he would reach towards it and draw spells out from it, ribbons of light and energy that he flung at the men who rushed them. Each attack from Solle or Mokk would simply knock the scavenger out, but was never enough for a killing blow. They would lie on the floor clutching their sides, arms, or wherever they were unfortunate enough to be hit, but not a single one lay motionless. He looked around for Nerri but she was still nowhere to be seen. After they had begun marching towards the edge of town, Solle had quietly given her a separate order and she disappeared to go fulfill it.

Hawar let out a sigh and slumped down behind the barrel. He hit his fist up against the stone wall of the house besides him. The building seemed to creak at the slight provocation and Hawar frowned. After a moment of waiting for the building to move he looked back up to the sky

“There’s gotta be something I can do.” He muttered to himself. He looked at the buildings across from him and down the street, most were made with stone around the base before using lumber on the higher floors. The hay atop the roof had quickly set ablaze from the rest of the fires that spread around the village. The fires were still burning and illuminated the night sky. He wasn’t going to be much use in the fight, but he wondered if he could help to take care of the fires. Mokk would most certainly have a spell to generate some water, he thought to himself. He peaked out from behind the barrel.

There was currently a lull in the fight, the armed men had realized they couldn’t get past these two and were now staring at them, waiting for the moment to strike. Hawar guessed there had to be at least twenty of them out there. The village houses were rather close together and the road separating them was just narrow enough that Mokk and Solle were enough on their own to block them from moving past. Hawar debated if he could walk over to them and grab a spell from Mokk. ‘I’ll be really quick.’ He thought.

As he stood up, the building creaked even more. He stood still, and the building roof collapsed, sending a cloud of smoke into the street. He heard shouts from the armed men and then the sound of fighting as they took advantage of the momentary distraction to rush Solle and Mokk. He coughed and tried to wipe the dust from his eyes but it still burned.

There was a cry of pain from Solle and then Mokk cried out something unintelligible. Hawar blinked and looked over to the two men. One of the scavengers had managed to get right behind Solle as he was fighting off another and stabbed him in the shoulder. He had managed to bring his sword down on the man, cutting his leg clean off. The man cried out in pain as Solle slumped up against his sword. Mokk conjured a large shimmering wall and started holding it up as the scavengers began to hit it relentlessly in an attempt to break through. It was almost unnatural how little they cared as they slammed their heads and bodies into it.

“Hawar!” Mokk shouted, gesturing to Solle. “Get the Lord out of here.”

“I told you not to call me that.” Solle said with a light chuckle as he clutched the wound on his shoulder. Hear rushed over to him, jaw agape as he looked in shock at the sudden turn of events. Mokk said nothing and leaned into the wall. “Help me up Boy.” Solle said, gesturing Hawar over. Hawar was quickly at his side, he put his body under Solle’s shoulder to help him walk.

“Don’t look back, get to the next street bend and don’t come back this way.” Mokk gasped as a large crack appeared in the shield. The scavengers smiled as they continued to hit at it with their weapons. Hawar paused and looked up at his master, Solle grunted and dropped his sword to the ground, it landed with a thud. Hawar went to grab it but Solle shook his head and pressed him onwards.

“Forget about it, it always comes back.”

“Hurry!” Mokk shouted, Solle grunted in response and started to walk forward. Hawar helped him and they pressed on down towards the end of the street. He spared a second to take a look back as Mokk’s lightshield erupted in a flash and he was pushed back. The horde of men descended upon him as he pulled out spell after spell from his book. There were too many of them though and with all of them rushing him he was quickly swarmed and brought to his knees. Solle grabbed Hawar by the jaw and pulled him so they locked eyes. Hawar felt his eyes tear up as Solle spoke.

“Your Teacher is gonna be alright, they're not going to kill him here, they can’t, the same can’t be said for us though.” He took another step forward and grunted, Hawar quickly helped him back up and they continued along.

‘Solle’s right, if we get out of here we can come back for him.’ He thought. Then another thought crept into his mind that he pressed back down so it wouldn’t be heard. ‘You caused this.’ If they wouldn’t be able to get back and save him, he knew it would be a thought that’d haunt him forever.