Dawn

The Eremor Farm

Kal felt it before he saw it. A rumbling beneath his feet. ‘A quake?’ he thought. Rare, but not unheard of.

He’d gotten an early start, before his mother had even risen, just as the sun was rising. There was so much to do, and he could never seem to stay on top of it all. On days like this, he thought he understood why his father had struggled so much. He hadn’t been a farmer at heart. Maybe Kal wasn’t either.

Which was fine. He was stuck here, for now, but—

‘What is that?’ he thought, as a cacophony of noises began to join in with the rumbling. It was impossible to pick out and identify any one sound. But whatever was causing it, it was getting louder. A wild herd of buffalo? A storm?

It was coming from the west, from Kal’s perspective behind the main house. He tossed the hoe he’d been using to dig up the dead ferkle and started towards the house. He walked, at first. He was confused—baffled, really—by the racket, but it had not yet registered that what he was hearing and feeling might present some kind of danger.

There was wide open land to the west of the house, which gave Kal a good view of the horizon. The early morning sun was still low enough to not blind him, and he strained his eyes as he walked, still trying to figure out what was happening.

He saw movement. And then something… big. No, not big. Huge. And not just one, either.

Were they beasts of some kind? Monsters?

Kal picked up his pace, a sudden raw feeling of dread forming in the pit of his stomach. They were coming this way, straight towards the farm. And his mother was asleep, alone, in the house.

More of what was approaching began to come into view. There were, he was now sure, giant creatures of some kind moving quickly in this direction. But there was more. Much, much more.

People. Stretched as far to either side as he could see, a veritable panorama along the horizon. Moving steadily towards him. As they got closer and things became clearer, he could see they were almost all dressed the same. Black, with some flashes of red. Shiny metal. Armor?

There was more: giant moving structures of some kind. Strange creatures of varying sizes moving alongside the people or pulling carts. It was impossible to take it all in.

And they were moving so fast.

He felt a surge of panic and began sprinting towards the house, shouting out his mother’s name. He would get there before this… army? Was it an army?

He would get to the house and his mother before they did, he thought. But what then? They had a storm cellar, but could he get her there in time? Would they even be safe there?

Who were these people? What was their purpose?

He allowed himself one more look at them before storming into the house. So close now. Not slowing, and showing no signs they might veer off and go around the farm. A minute, maybe less, and the army would be on top of them.

“Mom!” Kal screamed, slamming the front door nearly off its hinges. He made his way through the kitchen, the pots and pans and mugs and cutlery dancing across and off the tables. He raced from room to room, starting with his mother’s bedroom, throwing open doors with increasing desperation.

“Mom!” he screamed again, his fear becoming palatable. Where was she? Why wasn’t she answering?

“Kal?” he heard from behind him. He turned to see his mother, still in the same dress she’d been wearing the night before, coming down the hall towards him. She was wiping away the morning crust from her eyes with the back of her hand, and for a moment, Kal was struck by how childlike she looked. “What’s happening?”

He lunged for her and grabbed her by the forearm.

“Ow! Kalvin, what are you doing?”

“Come on, Mom. We have to get to the storm cellar.” Because he could think of no alternative.

“Storm cellar? Is that what’s happening? A storm is coming?”

“There’s no time to explain, Mom. We just have to move!”

Kal ran, practically dragging her along. She was making little noises as they moved, little squeaks of confusion and tiny grunts of pain. He hated being rough with her, but she didn’t understand the danger they were in, or how little time they had.

They raced outside and started towards the storm cellar on the opposite end of the house. The cellar door was facing the oncoming horde, which meant they might be exposed and spotted. The whole thing seemed insane. But he just didn’t know what else to do.

They rounded the corner, and Kal immediately knew it was too late.

The house was two stories high. The creature about to overtake them was taller, by at least another story. Four soldiers had been guiding it at a steady pace, the same pace as the rest of the army, long chains attached to a collar around its neck pulled taught.

They saw Kal and his mother at the last second and reacted on instinct, veering away so as not to run right into them. Kal and his mother both ducked for cover, crouching and covering their heads with their arms. Kal pulled her close, turning his back towards the house to try to protect her.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Two of the soldiers lost their grip on the giant creature and it pulled away from them, dragging the other two with it. It ran directly into the side of the house and never stopped. Never hesitated. The house crumbled like it was made of straw, pieces of wood and stone flying everywhere.

Debris from the house rained down on Kal, pelting his back and arms. He managed a glance at a soldier moving past him, a woman, and saw that she was laughing. The sight both horrified and infuriated him. They were nothing to these people, whoever they were. An obstacle to move around, or straight over, if that was easier. Their house, his home since birth, had just been destroyed in an instant and all they could do was laugh. Laugh, and keep moving.

On the other side of what was left of his house, Kal watched as a bevy of soldiers surrounded the beast and grabbed at its chain. A woman not in armor ran up to the site and spoke and gestured, and within a few seconds, the beast seemed back under control.

The assault of the flying house debris finally ended and Kal looked down at his mother.

“Mom?” he asked. “You okay?”

She was crouched down and not moving. He turned her over and she looked at him with wide, shocked eyes. “Kalvin?” she eked out.

“It’s okay, Mom. Just… just…”

It was then that he noticed the blood. So much blood he didn’t understand how he’d missed it. But it had all happened in a matter of seconds, so much chaos and movement and noise. The blood covered his hands and his arms. Worse, it covered his mother’s chest and stomach.

“Kalvin?” she repeated, her voice shallow. Her eyes remained wide with shock, and her hands clutched at the long, thick piece of wood that pierced her chest. The wood was slightly discolored, and Kal dully recognized it as having once been a piece of their kitchen table.

“Oh, Mom,” he said. His hands moved furiously and impotently across her body and over the piece of wood that had impaled her. He grabbed it, intending to pull it out, and she screamed a scream so harsh and piercing that Kal put his hands to his ears. He could feel her blood dripping down the side of his head, and hated himself for causing that scream, that pain.

Kal looked up at the soldiers passing by. They were many and they remained in tight formation, only breaking it to momentarily move around them. “Help us!” he yelled at them. “Please! She’s… she needs help!”

They continued on, unmoved by his pleas.

“Kalvin.” His mother’s voice was so low now, her face so pale.

“Mom. Don’t worry. I’m going to get help. You just have to hang in there.”

“I’m sorry, Kalvin. I’m sorry.”

“What? What could you possibly be sorry for, Mom? You’re the bravest woman I’ve ever known. And a wonderful mother. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“For what, Mom?”

“For leaving you.”

Kal squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, fighting off what felt like utter, endless despair. He couldn’t stop the tears, though. And the feeling that he was just a child again, a child whose mother was his whole world.

“Mommy, please…”

She put her bloody hand to the side of his cheek and somehow managed a smile. He thought she’d never looked so beautiful as she did in that moment.

Her eyes fluttered and closed. Her hand fell from his cheek.

“Mom!”

Then her eyes shot open and stared, wide, deep into his. She grabbed his shirt collar with surprising strength and pulled him down, closer to her. When she spoke—the words that would be her last—they didn’t sound like they were coming from his mother at all. Instead, from some place far away.

“Stand for something, Kalvin. Don’t be afraid.”

“What?”

“You’ll be a hero.”

Kal wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. She’d never spoken that way before. Where was this coming from?

Then her head dipped in his arms, her hand falling lifelessly to the ground. And he knew she was gone.

He screamed to the heavens. Ten minutes ago he had been complaining about his life and dreaming for another. He’d give anything to take it all back. To have his mother back.

“Outta the way.” A soldier bumped into him, knocking Kal off balance. Like the majority of his compatriots, he was clad entirely in black armor, with red trim highlighting the joints and connective points. A pair of rounded pauldrons, as black as the rest, jutted out over his shoulders, and a helmet that shielded all but his eyes, nose, and mouth covered his head.

The soldier could easily have gone around and avoided Kal the way the others had; the bump had been intentional. Intentional and cruel.

Kal leapt to his feet, a deep rage unlike anything he had ever felt roaring to the surface. He screamed again and charged the soldier. The soldier turned his head just as Kal hit him, and Kal felt the smallest bit of satisfaction at the surprised look on his face.

Kal’s shoulder hit the metal of the soldier’s armor. It might have hurt if he hadn’t already been numb. The soldier let out a grunt of surprise on contact, a second grunt once his back slammed into the ground. Kal had no armor, but he was tall, fit, and strong. The body of a farmer. When he tackled the soldier, he tackled him hard.

But there were other soldiers. An endless supply, it seemed to Kal. They were upon him right away, pulling him off their compatriot. He was thrown to the ground. Someone kicked him in the stomach. He felt the air rush out of his lungs.

Someone else kicked him in the back. Another kick to the chest. Then one to the face. He actually saw stars with that one.

The blows continued for what felt like forever, until Kal had no resistance left to offer. He felt the blood trickling from his nose and tasted it in his mouth. It stung his left eye, a steady stream flowing from a wound somewhere on the top of his head.

They pulled him up to his knees, holding him firmly by the arms. The soldier he had tackled had regained his footing and was grinning down at him.

“Punk,” was all he said. He made some kind of quick movement of his fingers and a long, curved blade extended out of the bracer on his right wrist. It curved over the back of his hand and continued to curve until it came to a razor sharp point six inches in front of his fist.

The soldier put the blade to Kal’s throat and he knew it was the end. Just as well, he thought pitifully. There was nothing left to live for anyway.

His father, long gone. Now his mother. His romantic notions of adventures across the wild frontier, crushed.

Kal closed his eyes and waited for the end.