The army did arrive in three days just as John predicted, and the first thing they did was encircle the village with their soldiers. At this point, one third of villagers had already departed. Sadly, a lot didn’t make it too far as hunters found their defiled corpses.

The village elder attempted to open a diplomatic dialog, but they wouldn’t even receive him, scaring him away with their halberds.

“Why is this happening?” The villagers wondered aloud, Tom and Fionara included. Even before the villagers could come up with anything, the army launched an attack on that evening. Fire arrows rained upon the village as waves of soldiers charged into the village. They never had any intention to talk in the first place.

Tom was one of two hunters manning the lone watchtower in the middle of the village. He swiftly drew out an arrow and fired a shot which hit a soldier right in the face. He fired another, and another went down. Alas, it wasn’t enough. The soldiers were swarming. Killing one or two wasn’t going to make any difference.

Then he saw two fireballs coming his way.

“Fuck!” Uttering, he dashed down the only ladder but knew that he wouldn’t get down in time. Thus, he jumped off midway. The other hunter who was still on the watchtower was burnt to a crisp as he let go of the ladder and crashed down to the ground with a loud grunt. All was lost. The village was lost. It was time to flee if they could.

“Fio...!” He whispered as he dashed toward his house which was less than 10 seconds away by running.

When he arrived at his house, he saw her locked in a combat with a fully armored soldier. There was another soldier down on the ground facing up; There was a dagger shoved into his neck. It must have been her handy work. She couldn’t use her right ankle well. Thus, her movements were awkward. That handicap may have helped her to take down that soldier due to erraticity of her movement. Evidently, she was struggling real hard with the other remaining soldier who probably realized that she was handicapped.

“Fio!” Tom shouted. “Back off!”

Without diverting her attention, she jumped backwards. The soldier attempted to take her down by grabbing her hair, but she always maintained very short hair for a female. He swiftly drew an arrow and fired at the soldier’s head. He was wearing a leather helmet but it wasn’t going to provide much protection at such a close range. The soldier soon fell with an arrow halfway into his skull.

“Tom!” She limped her way into his arms. However, he wasn’t exactly welcoming her. Wondering what was going on, she looked over her shoulder.

The moment she saw their house enveloped in violent flames, her eyes went dead simply. She told her kids to hide under the bed. She thought it was the best course of action at the moment.

She was wrong.

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A single tear dropped from one of her eyes with a dead expression on her face. She slowly looked up at Tom’s face whose eyes were fixed at the burning house. She couldn’t quite tell whether he was displaying shock and sadness. He looked dumbfounded but didn’t look sad. However, none of that mattered anymore.

“Tom, this is it. I am done,” She declared.

“What?” He looked down finally, breaking his attention away from the burning house.

“I am cursed. I am cursed.” Her face started to mangle; She was resisting to cry. The dagger she was holding, which she used to fight against two soldiers, was plunged into her left chest without any form of hesitation.

“Fio?!” He shouted in utter shock. But she was already dead. He had her body lay down on the ground slowly. Tears were still dropping from her dead eyes with an expression of deep regrets on her face.

I see.

He understood; She gave up. Her desire to have a family was likely her last bastion of hope. She did tell him repeatedly that she was sick of how everything was going against her. She did try her best with nothing to show for. She thought her fortunes turned a corner when she gave birth to their second child. She thought maybe, just maybe, her string of misfortune was over. At this point, something ... something snapped in his mind.

“You cannot fucking tell me that she hadn’t tried,” He whispered to himself as he wiped tears off her dead eyes.

“The woman fought against two trained soldiers with a limping ankle,” He continued while caressing her cheek with a face full of bitterness. “What more do you want from her? You motherfuckers.”

Gritting his teeth, he slowly stood up, facing a wall of approaching soldiers a distance away. His eyes were full of tears. Pulling out a dagger from his belt and throwing away his bow, he bellowed.

“Elementals of wind, hear my cry!”

For a brief moment, his body was enveloped in a light green aura which meant the elementals did hear his cry.

“I give you my life. In return, grant me a miracle! Levitation!”

In this world, in order to cast magic, one was required to have an elemental affinity. This affinity was fixed from birth and would never change. In a scale of one to ten, an ordinary mage had six generally, give or take one point.

In Tom’s case, he had an affinity with elemental wind. His score was just two which was barely enough to be able to cast the most basic wind spells. Under normal circumstances, he would never be able to cast an advanced wind spell such as levitation. Of course. he was fully aware of his limitations. He wasn’t favored enough by elemental wind to be able to cast it. Thus, he offered them his life in return for an impossible feat. Perhaps, it wasn’t a fair trade because the spell levitation, while an advanced spell, wasn’t something one would sacrifice his life for. However, it didn’t matter to Tom. He wanted a means to achieve his act of revenge. Besides, he would be killed either way. Thus, it didn’t matter ultimately. He’d rather die while attempting to exact revenge than be killed like a rabid dog.

His last wish was granted as his body awkwardly began to float. It took several seconds for him to quickly grasp control of his airborne body. Once ready, he soared to the sky to spot the general of the army. His goal was simple in concept: Kill the general or whoever is in charge. His life was already forfeit at this point. The elementals would soon take away his life. He would hate to waste his life meaninglessly. Aiming his dagger at a person who appeared to be a leader of some sort, he descended down rapidly at the figure with a roaring cry of mixed feelings.

A cry for pity.

A cry for revenge.

A cry for anger.

A cry for regret.