The orcs never really stood a chance, but then again, they had it coming for them.

Jack watched it all unfold from town square. It wasn’t pretty, yet it was a beautiful sight.

The guards had not been able to hold off the orcs, as their sheer numbers were overwhelming for the limited defenses of Rorin.

But Rorin didn’t need to defend itself, the Summoned would.

Jack had been cutting his grass when he saw the dust cloud erupt from the square. At first, he thought that he had done his crop spells wrong and Dimetaru had summoned a dust bowl to display her frustration, but he had remembered about the orc attacks.

Finally, He thought. At some point, he began to worry that the heroes wouldn’t show up, but they did, as they always did.

Orc attacks weren't rare, but they weren’t a common sight. At least not until the great

summoning.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Helen pressing her face against the window. Her fingers fumbled, as if attempting to open the glass itself. She ducked back when she saw him.

Jack sighed. Helen had tried to hide her interest in Aldarians , to no avail of course. He assumed it would be quite normal for children to take great interest in Aldarians and magic, and all sorts. Sheila had often tried to encourage Helen to study literature and science, which she showed some interest in. But her behavior, not her interest, fueled his concern.

Often, he would see her take a garden tool and swing it at a hay bale or tree. It worried him that she might, at some point, try to insert herself in a dangerous situation. But alas, every time he looked, she would be watching from a safe distance. He could dismiss it as an irrational fear, but then again, it didn’t hurt to be too careful.

Jack rolled up the grass. He would have to sell it within the day. That said, as early as possible. He took another glance at the window. Helen was no longer there. He refocused his gaze back to the cloud of dust in the distance. It was already starting to clear up. He lifted his wheelbarrow and rolled it downhill.

As Jack approached the square, groups of people stood outside the gates. Some were inside. Orcs enjoyed attacking defenseless civilians, but they hated Aldarians with such an incredible passion that they would be drawn towards them.

Jack squinted. A group of orcs circled a man, his hair swayed in the wind. His body faintly glittered with trophies of war and trinkets. His youthful appearance a clear indication of being a summoned. He stood over a dead orc, which his long sword rested upon. He had a disappointed look on his face, as if he expected more from the battle. The orcs roared and lunged at him. He moved the sword in a sweeping motion with just one hand, cutting two of the orcs in half at the waist.

The other three orcs, momentarily stunned at the sight of their fellow monsters' eviscerations, Charged him in fury. He quickly cut them down as well. Organized orc attacks usually meant well trained, battle hardened warriors, but this didn’t seem to be the case.

The dust was finally starting to clear up. And as it did, Jack spotted more bodies. Orcs littered the town square. The hero spun his sword on his finger and glanced at the crowd. They cheered, raising their hands up and jumping.

The hero smirked before he looked away. People began entering the square as the hero walked away. Many people lost interest quickly. Aldarians probably had a full schedule of dealing with things like this. In Jack’s opinion, leaving them alone was the most polite thing to do.

While the square was being cleaned, Jack had set up shop completely. Halson, The owner of the Smokewood Tavern, approached him quickly.

“Hello, Jack! I know a guy who could use that grass.” Halson stroked his chin. His beard was white like a puff of smoke.

“Morning, Hal.” Jack responded. “If he could come here to pick it up, that would be swell.”

Halson shook his head. “Nope. The guy said he was busy, so he gave me some bread to come pick up some grass. Besides, I brought my own wheelbarrow.” He hefted it in front of Jack.

Jack shrugged. “Sure, how much?”

“I’d say around ten copper.” Halson.

Jack helped him lift it upon the barrow. “You wanna come over for a drink some time?” Halson asked.

“Maybe later,” said Jack.

Halson frowned and left

Over on the corner was a market that Jack would usually buy vegetables from, the market had since closed last week due to complaints about the price. Jack had never had a problem with the prices. Cost and quality went hand in hand.

A poster caught his eye. Jack stopped to look at it.

Iron Legion Coming! AFHA Recruiting! Fun & Games!

Meet your Aldarians !

Coming to Rorin This Thursday!

Jack walked past the poster after momentarily stopping. Thursday was only two days away. Maybe he could take Helen there. They probably would put on a show of some sort.

He smirked. Helen’s birthday was on Friday. A bit too early, but he knew that she would be euphoric.

“Hiya!”

Jack jumped.

Marina, the local librarian fidgeted with a carrot in her hand. Jack knew her from a few years ago, back when he was getting into crop blessings.

She poked his shoulder. “Did you see?” she asked.

“Yup.” He answered, without really knowing exactly what she was asking, but sort of assuming that she was referring to what he expected.

She waved a carrot around like a sword, then stabbed him with it. “He was like this.” She dropped the carrot, quickly brushing it off on her dress. “I heard his name is Cadrick, he’s killed thousands.” She grinned. “Why don’t you be one?” She asked.

Jack bit his lip without looking. Maybe she was forgetful, or maybe she was just pestering him. Either way, he knew that she already knew the reason. No Anvior should be a hero.

It was just that simple. During the great summoning, a few tried, but failed spectacularly in keeping up with their otherworldly counterparts. Aldarians were built differently. Shortly after the first summoning, the fourth demon king launched an ambush. The Aldarians , just now learning their abilities, decimated the army approaching. Meanwhile, any trained, experienced, or even older Anviors, were quickly cut down.

Jack may not have had proper education as a child, but he’d be damned if anyone actually believed they could compete with a summoned.

No man in his right mind would try to even compare their power with a hero. Aldarians were strong, fast, and had immense mana capacity. Especially first generation Aldarians .

“Thy shalt not wield a sword that is not his.” Jack quoted.

It wasn’t something that he envied. Sometimes when he hauled wood, or ran on those hunting trips he took when he was younger, he silently wished to have divine powers too. The only people who would be worried about keeping up with Aldarians , he supposed, would be criminals.

Marina was still smiling. “You might be able to do it. I saw you looking at spellbooks when you used to visit.”

“Only a few.” Jack replied. “Garden blessings, Water purification.”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

She swung her arms as she matched his pace. “They looked like fighting books. Did you check them out?”

Jack shrugged. “It would waste space on my shelf, so I suppose not.”

She looked disappointed. “Did you borrow any book at all?”

Jack stopped for a moment to think about it. “I have the farmers handbook at my home. I would have no reason to borrow.”

“But you checked out one last month.”

Jack stopped again. “I don’t remember it.”

“You wrote your name down, Book of Flames.”

Silence for a moment.

“What’s it about?”

“You tell me.” She responded.

Sheila was washing the silverware when he arrived home. The bucket laid in a particularly hazardous place in the kitchen. He hoped she wasn’t throwing out the water. Soaps and plants didn’t mix.

She kissed him when she saw him. “Hello.”

He nodded. “I missed you all morning.” He said.

Jack sighed and went straight to his room. Things were tough recently. Maybe he should try his clay project again, to take his mind off things.

In his room was simple, a hollowed out barrel which had shelves inserted to hold miniature paintings.

To his left, a bookcase. Sheila mostly used it. He forgot to question Sheila about the book, but realized that it couldn’t have been her. Why would she write his name down? Maybe he checked it out after a long time at the Tavern. He didn’t remember it.

Jack ran his fingers through each book, starting at the top, Sheila's area, then to the bottom, his area. When he didn’t find it, he looked around the room, then he went back and did it a second time.

“Sheila?” He called out.

“Yes?”

“Have you seen a book called flames or something?”

“No, did you check one out?”

“No.”

He looked down on his hands, which were now covered in dust. He rubbed his fingers. He took one book out. How to deal with Monsters.

He laid down in his bed. He glanced at the window. Night already?

He opened the first page.

Sheila joined him sometime later.

“I’ll admit, I’m a bit worried about Helen too. She spends more time in her room now.”

Jack shut the book. “She’ll grow out of it. We all do.”

“I guess you're right… Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

The first thing he felt was the heat.

Not a painful heat, but the heat of a cozy fire. But something told him that he was not cozy. Light seeped through his thin eyelids. The heat grew more intense. He heard yells, shouts.

He opened his eyes slowly, his vision blurry. A bonfire was before him, people danced around it. They held pitchforks, swords. There was a man directly in front of Jack who raised his hands as if to embrace the heat, he stood dangerously close to the flames.

Jack opened his mouth to yell, he couldn't, he tried again and again.

He saw something past the man, a stick, no, a stake.

He ran his eyes up the stake. He squinted. He was horrified by what he saw.

They were burning a person.

A woman with dark skin and black hair that swayed in the updraft. Her expression was almost emotionless, with just a hint of sorrow, as the flames practically licked at her tattered dress.

She turned to look at him, dead in the eyes. She mouthed something to him.

H-A-L-O-N-A-R.

Jack opened his mouth one more time to let out a horrified yell. But alas, nothing came out. As if the man heard the silence itself, he turned to face Jack.

It was the man from the square.

Jack shot up in his bed. His sweat soaked sheets stuck to him like glue. Jack rubbed his head in his palms. The nightmare came out of nowhere. He took a second to catch his breath. Sheila stirred.

Jack took a look at Sheila.

Sound asleep.

He didn’t want to trouble her with his childish insomnia. He laid back down, attempting to mentally force the image out of his mind. As his sweat dried, he saw a faint light from under the crack of the door. He stared at it for a moment, thinking it was some trick of his mind. But his curiosity got the best of him.

He got up slowly from the bed, so as to not wake Sheila. He opened the door just a crack, and peered down the hallway.

Across from his room was a glow from under the door of Helen’s room.

He slowly made his way toward her room. When he was right outside her door, he tried to listen for what was happening inside.

A flapping of paper.

A floorboard creaked.

Rustling.

He opened the door quickly.

Helen sat on her bed holding a book, a candle sat next to her.

“Hi dad.” She greeted him.

Jack entered the room. “Helen, why are you doing up so late?”

Helen looked down sheepishly. “I was reading.”

“How did you light your candle?” He asked.

She didn’t answer.

He leaned under the bed and pulled out a book. Book of Flames.

“I lit it with a spell.” She admitted.

Jack wasn’t angry, but he was certainly frustrated. “Helen, there’s a reason why we don't check out these books. They’re dangerous- especially for you!”

Helen pouted. “Why?”

Jack tilted his head back. Why?

“Helen, It's fire.” Jack grunted. “You could have hurt yourself.”

“I studied it.” She said proudly. “I did all of the safety.”

Jack opened the book. “No, you didn’t. This is a combat book.”

Helen crossed her arms. “No it’s not!”

Jack grunted, “It might not be, but It can certainly be used to. Besides, what if a hero needs to make a fire to protect us, but they don't have the book?”

Helen slumped.

Jack leaned forward. “Helen, I understand that you want to do magic, but magic is difficult to understand, and to control for us.

“Us?” Helen asked.

Jack sighed. It was about time he told Helen about the Summoning. Part of him knew that she knew that. But she overlooked it completely.

“Helen, remember when I told you about the great summoning?”

“Yes.” She pulled up her blanket, as if to prepare for a story.

Jack sighed again. “The Aldarians … Well, all of them are Dalipamu.”

She cocked her head. “Dalipamu?”

“Summoned. They are all summoned. None of them are any Aurorians or other Anviors.”

“You mean you can’t… be a hero?” She asked.

Jack nodded. “There were only five Anvior Aldarians by the time the demon king was slain, all of which are dead except one.

Helen looked like she was about to cry. Jack immediately felt bad, but if this had continued, would he be able to convince her otherwise when she was older? Jack knew that the stinger was to be removed as soon as possible.

Helen looked up at him. “How do you know? How do you know there aren't any now?”

“I don’t. There could be.” Jack backpedaled. “But I don’t want you to run in or ever put yourself in a dangerous situation. There’s a reason why the summoning happened. To purge all evil. We simply weren’t capable of fighting by ourselves.”

A smile returned to her face, relieving him. Then an idea popped into his head.

“You wanna hear a story?” He asked.

She nodded vigorously.

Jack made himself comfortable on a chair across the room. He cleared his throat.

“Long ago, before the summoning, before the Aldarians , and witches, there were only the Knights of the Horizon.The Knights were forged from the monsters that tormented them every day and night.From the deities that refused to help. The Knights were formed, They pushed the Divilamu back, and cut him up into many pieces, and hid them away, so that he may never come back.”

Helen pulled her blanket up further.

“So eventually, there was a truce, and peace was among the land. And since they were the very first protectors of the land, monsters and demons would think twice about messing with them.”

“The end.”

She leaned forward.

“Were they Anviors?”

Jack froze. He didn’t know how to respond to the question.

“Perhaps.” He said thoughtfully. “Now get some rest, I have a surprise planned for your birthday.”