The clod of dirt soared through the air with a whistle right into the back of Heath’s head.

“Acke!”, he yelps as the clod explodes, filling his mousy brown hair with coarse dirt .

“Gottcha! So much for ya great sneaking, Heath!”, Jan yells with a wheezing laugh from behind. Jan was the blacksmith’s boy, not the one with the Trekker Guild. Jan had been helping his father in the forge since he could walk.

The years of hard work made Jan strong.

When Jan hurled something, it struck with the force of a hammer.

This is why Heath felt no shame as he fell to the ground, holding the back of his skull like it was trying to escape.

“You demi-luving ox licker, that hurt like Agospi!”, Heath groaned from the forest floor.

Jan steps toward Heath guiltily, crouching, hand reaching out. Jan is suddenly blinded as Heath whips around flinging a handful of loose dirt in his face.

“Sneak attack!”, Heath yells triumphantly rolling away from Jan. Scraping another handful of dirt, he leaps to his feet, circling Jan, as the other boy tries to wipe the dirt from his eyes.

“Ya ram fecker! That was a cheap shot!”, Jan exclaims, still wiping at his eyes.

“And hitting me in the back of the head ain’t.”, Heath retorts.

“Not my fault ya don't mind ya arse,” Jan counters.

Then from above they both hear a young feminine voice callout, “ Glad you feel that way Jan!”

Both the boys jerk their heads up just in time to see the postman’s daughter Mila standing on a tree's out stretched branch, dumping two dirt-filled sacks

. Dirt pours over the two boys as they begin to cough and sputter trying to get the dirt from their mouths.

The boys hunched over raking at their tongues, Mila climbs down and laughs, “ That was the best one yet! I got both of you! I believe this is the portion of the tale where you concede and exclaim my great victory.”

“ Ya a worse cheat then Heath, Mila. We said no climbing trees.”, Jan whines.

“ You said no climbing, I never agreed.”, Mila chimes mirthfully.

“ Yeah wel-,” Heath begins to speak when the voice of his mother rings through the quickly cooling evening air.

“Heath Brim! Get your rear home! And you better not be filthy again or you’ll get it!”.

“Dem it”, Heath sighs surveying his dirt caked body, “ I’mma get it for sure.”

“For sure.”, Jan agrees.

“It’s been nice knowing you Heath.”, Mila says with mock sorrow.

“Both of ya can -,” Heath begins to retort when his mother’s voice interrupts him again.

“NOW HEATH!”.

“Crap, I’ll see ya later.”, Heath calls over his shoulder as runs toward home, scraping at his dirt stained clothes.

He busted through the tree line, waving to the mill workers as he passed, them calling out,” Better hurry!”,”Good luck!”, “Run Heath!”.

Heath dodged around stumps that had yet to be uprooted and quickly made his way through what had been already clearcut.

Reaching town he passed his father’s woodshop, the outermost building of town besides the lumber mill.

The lights were off and he could see the closed sign on the door.

His father beat him home, great that meant not only would he get a tongue lashing from his mother, but a real lashing from his father.

Heath closed the twenty odd yards between the woodshop and his home, although made of wood the house was far from simple.

Heath’s father was one of the greatest woodworkers in all of the Northern Expanse. He had painstakingly made their home beautiful, the outer walls carved with reliefs of great forests, the window seals depicting ships braving waves, and on the door was a heartwarming carving of a family gathered around a hearth.

Many have begged his father to replicate the work on their homes, but every time his father would turn them away.

No matter the coin they offered. His father took great pride in his work and would not diminish its beauty by replicating it.

  Heath reached out and turned the brass knob and slowly opened the door, letting the warmth inside washover him as he silently slipped in and closed the door.

Once inside Health sent a thanks to Scęściar for his luck that his mother was not in the front room. Then cursed her when he saw his sister, Nadia, was next to the fireplace, like always, playing with the hearth spirit that shared their home.

Quietly, he tiptoed past their dining table, lounge furniture, and his mother’s herb baskets scattered across the floor, just hoping to make it his room to change before being seen.

Heath just creeps past his sister, when she throws a bread crumb into the air.

The hearth spirit flies through the air making loops before grabbing and stuffing the crumb into its orange cheeks.

At that moment the spirit made eye contact with Heath and flew to give him its customary greeting, that only Heath got.

The spirit flew at Heath coming just shy of his nose, stuck out its tongue and blew.

Hot ember-like, spittle singeing the bridge of his nose, causing him to yelp as he swats at obnoxious spirit.

Nadia whirls toward the commotion. Seeing her brother, she explained, “ Heath!”

Rushing to him and throwing her tiny arms around his waist.

Pulling back quickly, Nadia yelled, “ Heath ya dirty!”

A shush just reaches his lip when the door to his parent’s room bursts open, his mother holding a clothes basket. “Heath Brim! Look at your clothes!”

“ Moooom, I was just playing.”, Heath whined before adding, “ I’ll wash them, promise.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“ You certainly will. And as punishment you will wash everyone else’s too, for a month. And when your father gets home, we will see what other punishment he can think of.”.

Heath shoots the hearth spirit a glare before bowing his head and defeatedly saying, “ Yes ma’am.”

“Now go change out of-”, his mother’s command is cut off by the slamming of the front door against the wall.

Heath’s father stood in the doorway, his large frame casted in shadows, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each of his gasping breaths.

“Ingrid! Come! Roztfallen caught us out of nowhere, some are already dead and more injured. Holt is running now to ring the bell.”

Just then as if almost summoned by his deep gravelly voice, the warning bell began to ring out. Every able body man and woman would be running around fighting the monsters, trying to minimize damage to the town, and protecting those unable to fight.

Heath shook with nervous energy, he was just about fourteen years and would be allowed to help in some way even if it was to run supplies and messages to those fighting.

Heath dreamed of being a trekker, as most verlochian children did, and this would be his first real taste of that life.

His mother,Ingrid, gathered her supplies, as his father ran from window to window barring the shutters closed.

After the last window was barred, Heath’s father grabbed his shoulders. Bringing himself to Heath’s eye level.

“Boy, ya have to stay here with Nadia.”, before Heath could form words of protest his father continued, “ I know ya want to help. If the warning bell had sounded sooner there’d be time to get Nadia to the Trekker Guild with the other children, but it didn’t. It’s too dangerous to attempt now.”

“Okay Pa.”, Heath said, trying to keep the tears that were forming in his eyes out of his voice.

“Good lad. If anything happens, both of ya need to get into the cellar and stay there.”.

“Ready!”,Ingrid called, bags and pouches of different herbs and elixirs hanging from her body.

His father gave one last nod, before kissing Nadia on the head, Ingrid wrapped her arms around her children in a strong embrace. The noxious aroma from the herbs burning, Heath and Nadia’s noses. “ I love you both, stay safe.”

  Then Heath and Nadia were alone, their parent’s disappearing into the ever growing dark of dusk.

For a moment they both just stood there staring at the closed door.

Then Nadia begins to cry.

Heath drops down to one knee and brings his sister in for a hug, with a shush softly reassuring her, “ Everything is going to be okay. I’m here and Pa and Mom will be just fine.”

Pulling back Nadia, wiped snot away from her nose with the back of her hand, as fat tears fell down her face, “ Really? But, the monsters.”

“They ain’t so bad. Pa whoops us far harder than those monsters can hit.”

A small smile crept across Nadia’s face, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”, Heath said with a large fake smile plastered on his face.

Luckly, for Heath, Nadia had only just turned four and still didn’t fully understand the dangerous of the monster surges, or roztfellen his father tended to call them using the Verlochian word instead of the more common trade language.

“Why don’t you go play with the hearth spirit?”, Heath suggests in hopes of detracting her.

“His name is Fi-ya!”, Nadia says in a shrill whine-laugh mix.

At the sound of the name, the Hearth spirit pokes its head out of the fireplace, where it had retreated to when the door slammed open.

Giggling, Nadia runs and drops hard before the mouth of the fireplace. Holding out a hand, Nadia begins to comfort the spirit much like Heath had just done for her, “ Come on out. It's okay.”

With a sigh of relief, Heath turns away from the two as they distract each other. Peeking through the slits in the shutters, Heath can make out fires burning throughout the town, causing the clashing forms of people and monsters to be only shadowed silhouettes.

Heath watches the squat creatures bound from one place to place with spasming hops.

Electrical energy crackles across the back of a creature when suddenly lightning strikes out from the creature, the rumbling thunder that follows shakes the surroundings.

For the first time Heath got a look at the monsters in the flash, toads the size of pigs, with glistening brown skin which contrasted the vibrant blue warts that grew along its back and head

The air cracks as another bolt of lightning springs to life from a creature closer to the house, Heath falls back as the house shakes.

Nadia screams and begins to cry again. Heath scurries to his feet, wrapping a comforting arm around Nadia, shushing her.

“It's okay, it's okay.”

“We can get in the cellar and be safe.”.

Nadia continues to cry, oblivious to her brother’s words.

Thunder could be heard all around, the house shaking more and more. With a jerk Heath pulls Naida up into his arms.

“Come on, we’re getting into the cellar. I will keep you safe.”, Heath says resolutely.

Heath moves towards his parent’s room, the only route to the cellar from inside.

At that moment the house shakes violently, over their parent’s door the roof suddenly collapse in a burning heap.

Embers and debri spraying both children, knocking them to the ground.

Heath is flung into the dining table as Nadia slips from his grasp.

The corner of the table catches him in the back of the head, while the rest of his body slides under the table, causing Heath to land face down on the floor, dazed and confused.

Heath groans as sounds of crashing fill his ringing ears and more embers pepper his prone body.

The fog consuming his thoughts begins to dissipate, the urgency to get up and find Nadia hits him.

Dragging himself to his feet, with smoke stinging his eyes and throat, Heath calls out, “ Nadia! Nadia! -cough-cough- Nad - cough.”

Plumes of smoke dance before Heath’s vision, as it swirls he spots Nadia lying sprawled next to the fireplace, the hearth spirit frantically around her trying its best to put out flames that nipped at the unmoving form of Nadia. Pushing through the burning wreckage that was once their home, he steps over cracked, burning beams, the heat scolding his flesh, his shoes and pants smoldering.

Dropping to his knees beside Nadia, Heath pulls her into his arms. Seeing her unconscious tears fall down his cheeks, Heath holds his hand to her mouth.

Relief floods him despite the hellscape that surrounds them. Nadia was still breathing, barely.

As Heath holds Nadia the fire closes in, hearth spirit moving around frantically doing all it can to extinguish the flames.

Soon the spirit abandons its futile war with the flames and floats down next to the siblings. Couressing Nadia’s face the hearth spirit begins to glow as does Nadia.

Instantly Heath knows that the spirit is trying to form a bond.

“No…she’s too young.”, Heath wheezes out, weakly brushing the spirit away.

Heath had heard the horror stories of those that bonded to early, they became spirit touched. He couldn’t let that happen to Nadia.

The spirit looks into Heath’s eyes, it knows. It knows, but is desperate to save her just like him.

“Me. Bond with me, together we can save her.”

The spirit grimaces at the suggestion, but nods its small head and touches Heath’s hand.

The two begin to glow, a wave of energy pulsing through him, the spirit gone, but its presence felt inside his chest.

Blue screens begin to flood Health’s sight, but he quickly pushes them aside. He is still exhausted, barely breathing, the fire still rakes at his skin, but he has just enough strength to stand, the heat burns just a little less.

Heaving Nadia into his arms, Heath shambles through the surrounding flames toward the fireplace.

With a blistered foot he clears a spot on the floor best he can.

Dropping Nadia, far harder than he meant, Heath crawls forward scraping out the burning logs and embers from the fireplace, his new found bond with the spirit giving just enough protection from fire.

Pulling Nadia along with him,Heath scoots backwards into the stone opening.

Embers and hot stones send pain shooting through his body. Heath leans out and with the last of his strength pulls the stone covering closed, engulfing the small stone chamber in darkness. Slumping against the stonewall unconsciousness takes Heath.