As soon as I got home to my apartment, I collapsed on my bed and fell into a cold, dreamless sleep.

A few hours later, sirens jolted me awake. An explosion rattled my apartment, ringing in my ears, the floor seeming to tilt. My head pounding, I jumped out of bed and ran to the door. Jerking myself awake, I yanked my door open. Outside, people were running around, clutching children and running to the East Wing. Blearily, I grabbed the person closest to me.

"What's going on," I asked, grabbing the person closest to me, who just so happened to be my best friend Greith Shaloh. He turned, momentarily surprised by my presence.

"Cersin!", Greith yelled, struggling to be heard over the screaming sirens. "There's been an explosion," he continued, using Magic to make his voice louder in my ear. "Captain Vorsach made a [Planar Doorway] in the East Wing's main hall. The families are headed there now. The rest of us are going to buy them more time by stabilizing the building from the West Wing, and we need everyone we can get." As soon as he finished, he turned and ran to the West Wing. Suddenly, the floor shifted under me, nearly tossing me aside.

Taking a deep breath, I cleared the rampaging thoughts. What do I know? Checking myself, I knew my soul-flame couldn't handle any more magic today. I know I cannot do magic. What can I analyze from that? The sirens started making my head hurt even more. I know I will be useless to the others. So What should I do? I know I should get out of this building. The walls started to creak ominously. What else do I know or want to know? A piece of the ceiling fell right beside me, shoving me out of my inner musings.

I started running to the end of the hall to the West Wing, joining the mass of people as we ran for our collective lives. As I sped past children and their parents, I saw cracks spreading along the cheap plaster, growing slowly, but steadily. My fear grew with every crack I passed. Eventually, I arrived to the main room of the West Wing, where people were quickly funneling through a square-shaped hole in reality. Through the hole, I could see the road, ravaged and torn to rubble, but I could still see the road. Hope filled me. As I stepped through the [Planar Doorway], I saw chaos.

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Right in front of me was a swarming mass of people, shoving and pushing each other in vain for more room. I estimated that there were a few thousand people, many times more than the few hundred people in my apartment complex. Pushing and shoving, I made my way through the horde, wondering why we were squished together like cattle.

We were surrounded by fighting. In front of us, there were cultists, I guessed because of their robes, wielding short swords, trying to push their way in past the few police who hadn't left. Captain Vorsach was screaming orders, directing most of the fighting, staff in one hand and sword in another. Suddenly, jet planes streaked across the sky (I only knew about them because we saw pictures in my history class when I was young). They were probably very antiquated, but no less deadly.

Captain Vorsach and a few of the police were using seals, so they were war casters. Seals are hard-coded magic that cost less time, effort and Magic to cast, but are inflexible. War casters spent years learning and improving those seals.

[Ice Spear]s shot through the sky, most coming from seals around Vorsach. Magic missiles and rockets alike detonated around the street, turning buildings that could withstand a hurricane into dust. Rubble was lifted from nearby streets and hurled into the fray. Magic filled the air, coating the atmosphere in a sickly green hue. Bodies already littered the streets.

Fear filled me. Other than Captain Vorsach, we weren't war casters. We couldn't cast seals in the blink of an eye, we only knew the very basics of magic. We weren't taught how to hold a sword. Most of us had never even been in a brawl. If the cultists got past, we'd all... I shuddered, forcing myself to think of something else. I started to grow sick.

Suddenly, Captain Vorsach stopped casting [Ice Spear] and lifted up his staff. Slamming his staff into the ground, a brilliant, merciless white seal appeared at Vorsach's feet. He breathed, "[Ash and Snow]", as though the words were precious and could be shattered if put any more emphasis on them. Then, it all dissappeared.

The cultists, bodies, the street, and even the rubble were all gone. Everything left was coated in a thin, cold, merciless snow. Ash floated down from the sky, softly, as if unwilling to disturb the snow where it laid. Plumes of smoke rose from the ashes, as if rising to Lord over its destruction. A sob broke out from someone in the group, shattering the remorseless silence.

Then another, and then another. A few were bawling over the loss of their homes, others wailed over the loss of a friend, family, or others.

I shivered. It was cold; so very cold.