“Ah, that was fantastic!” Arturo said, rubbing his belly. The stew his mother had made had been delicious. The family had eaten the entire pot and now he felt like his stomach was going to burst.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Leann smiled.

“Exactly what I needed before guard duty,” Marcus added.

“Ugh, why did you have to remind me?” John moaned.

It was expected. Arturo didn’t mind guard duty. He found it fun to walk around the city at night. A week ago, he had to take a drunk down to the cells until he sobered up. Maybe with time he would find guard duty boring, but not yet.

“Want to switch with one of us?” John asked Arturo.

“I did that last week. Maybe next time,” Arturo said with a wave of his hand. He was far too full to do guard duty now. Besides, he hadn’t had a day off in two weeks. After the training and the work he needed to work.

“Finally need a day off, huh?” Marcus teased.

“You could say that.”

“It’s good to have a night to yourself,” Leann said and Jen nodded with her. Leann started clearing the plates and Jen helped.

“Speaking of guard duty…” John got up and sighed again. “Time for us to go, brother.”

Marcus got up, following John to get their gear.

“I hope I’m never like them,” Arturo said once his brothers left the house. His brothers’ excitement for adventure was truly gone. He thought that, with time, his brothers would regain their adventurous spirit. But over four months had passed since their return and they showed no signs of wanting any adventure or do anything exciting.

Jen shrugged, deciding to ignore the complaint. “How did Mr. Bonsavin do in the cells?” she asked. She liked hearing what had happened on guard duty. Bonsavin was almost a regular at this point, always causing trouble when he drank too much. Last time he was arrested for peeing on someone’s house and threatening them when they told him to go away.

“Beats me. Probably the same thing as before. Went home and started drinking again,” Arturo said. Arresting people was one thing, but knowing what happened after was another matter. He wasn’t on duty when drunks or people who committed minor crimes were let out of jail.

“That man is trouble,” Leann said with a shake of her head. “A month in the dungeons would make him think twice about drinking again.”

“I doubt that,” Arturo laughed.

“Mother,” Jen stumbled and almost knocked over a chair.

“Yes?” Leann asked.

“May I stay at Isabel’s tonight? Her parents are telling stories and she invited me to join.”

Leann looked thoughtful as she glanced around the house. A few seconds of suspense passed, with Jen biting her lower lip in anticipation. “Oh, all right. You’ve done excellent work lately.”

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Jen burst out excitedly. She almost ran off without cleaning the last plate before Leann reminded her to finish her chores first.

Arturo had never seen Jen clean a plate so fast. Within minutes she had finished and was running out the door. He wondered what she was up to. He doubted Isabel’s parents were just telling stories. Not my problem, he thought and got up.

“I’m surprised you aren’t helping your father train the recruits,” Leann said.

“I did guard duty, training, and helped with the recruits yesterday,” Arturo said, pouring himself a cup of wine. “I also trained a lot today. I figure it’s time for a relaxing night.”

“Ah,” Leann said and grabbed her cup of wine too, swirling it before taking a sip.

The night wasn’t going to be a long one. Arturo was exhausted. His muscles were sore and he was struggling to remain awake. Tomorrow, he had guard duty again and he needed to help train recruits with his father.

He talked with his mother a while, then the next thing he knew he was being poked awake by her.

“Wha—” Arturo mumbled as he sat upright. Crickets were chirping outside and the sun had been replaced by the moon. Candles were lit around the house.

“You fell asleep. That third cup of wine did you in,” Leann said.

Yawning, Arturo stumbled as he stood up and leaned against the wall. “Well, I’m awake now.”

“Now, now, off to bed with you,” Leann insisted.

Tomorrow would be another exhausting day. All Arturo could do was count the days until he could leave Arindall and travel the world. The last thing he thought about before falling asleep was how much work he had to do before leaving.

It wasn’t the fire or the sounds of screaming that woke him up. Nor was it the clash of weapons or the noise of people running around. A door getting kicked in startled Arturo and he woke with a gasp.

The screaming outside got louder. He could hear people begging for mercy. There was banging in the living room; his mother was screaming for help.

Adrenaline replaced his drowsiness. He grabbed the sword by his bed, rushed out of his room, and rounded the corner.

There were two strange men in his living room. His mother was on the floor, thrashing about and screaming for the men to get off her. The first man was holding Leann’s hands down and the second had his pants down, looking greedily at the struggling woman.

The man with his pants down noticed Arturo and opened his mouth to shout, but it was too late. Arturo’s sword sliced off the first man’s head before he could move. It thudded onto the ground, blood spraying the walls as the headless corpse slid down the wall and collapsed.

The second intruder unsheathed his sword and went to engage Arturo, but the pants around his ankles caused him to trip. A blood-curdling scream filled the room. The man quickly got back on his feet but had no time to react as Arturo’s sword cleaved him in two.

Blood and guts flew across the room and warm liquid sprayed all over Arturo.

I just killed two men, he thought, his hands trembling.

“By the…”

Arturo turned, startled to see the man he’d split in two was still alive, lying on the ground with blood pooling all around him. The intruder coughed out a mouthful of blood.

“S…someone…help….me…” the dying man sputtered, in an accent Arturo had heard only once before—when the scarred man talked to him at the festival.

“How dare you,” Arturo said and stood over the assailant. Before the intruder could utter another word, he stabbed him in the heart.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Mother! He rushed to her body, leaving his sword in the man. Arturo looked around frantically and noticed the sword buried in her ribs down to the hilt. Now he understood why she had screamed when the man fell on her.

“No, no, no!” Arturo said over and over as he cradled her body. He didn’t dare remove the sword. Leann was wheezing, desperately trying to breathe and finding it difficult. Blood was dripping down her chin and her eyes were staring up at him. She raised her left hand and touched his cheek.

“Y-you…” Leann coughed, spraying him with droplets of blood. “Run… ple…”

“I can’t,” Arturo sobbed. Tears were streaming down his face and landing on his mother’s body. “You can’t die!”

Leann looked desperate as she tried speaking again. “Please…run,” she said, tears falling from the corner of her eyes, and then she went limp.

“No, no!” Arturo mumbled, hugging her tightly. This had to be a nightmare. The world could not rob him of his mother like this.

Arturo lost track of time. He didn’t know how long he sat there until someone approached from behind, startling him when he realized his sword wasn’t near him. It was his father, staring at the body in his arms. Archard’s armor was covered in blood and his sword was stained red.

“Father, she’s dead,” Arturo said and wiped his tears away.

Archard shook his head. His face was so still that Arturo couldn’t tell how his father felt.

“Son, we have to go,” Archard said at last.

“What about—”

“We can’t worry about that right now,” Archard said calmly. “Take your sword and follow me. We don’t have much time.”

“But Mo—”

“Arturo, listen to me!” Archard shouted. “We are under attack. There isn’t time to sit here and mourn her right now. Get your sword and follow me. Now!”

Arturo realized the desperation of the situation and rose to his feet, yanking his sword out of the lifeless body.

Archard motioned for him to follow and Arturo complied. He was not prepared for the chaos outside. The people of Arindall were being cut down as swords clashed. Arrows whistled through the air, and fires were spreading rapidly. The once-peaceful village was littered with corpses and filled with terror.

There were so many bodies on the ground that Arturo couldn’t contain his shock. There had to be at least one hundred dead; he recognized a few of the recruits among them.

“Don’t stare, move!” Archard grabbed his shoulder and shoved him forward.

Arrows impaled three men who were trying to run. Arturo wanted to help but his father wouldn’t stop. They turned the corner and he saw his brothers fighting someone, though it was too far to see who. Before he could tell Archard they needed to help, three men in dark armor came out of a building and spotted them.

Archard moved swiftly, his sword a blur as he struck the first man in the chest, sending him to the ground. He stabbed the second one in the face. The third soldier was quick enough to block Archard’s first few strikes, but then Archard lopped off both his arms and split the man’s skull in half.

Arturo had never seen his father fight seriously before. In the tournaments he had watched, Archard had not displayed the speed he was showing now. But when the fight was over, Archard put his right hand over his side, and blood leaked through his fingers.

“You’re hurt!” Arturo exclaimed, rushing forward to look.

“I’m fine,” Archard winced and pushed Arturo off him. He looked over to where John and Marcus were fighting.

“We need to help them,” Arturo said and was about to move toward his brothers when Archard gripped his shoulder, hard.

“It’s too late,” Archard said calmly.

“What do you—” Arturo stopped as he saw Marcus get cut down and John was stabbed in the chest. Shock overcame him. This was impossible. First his mother and now his brothers? This couldn’t be happening!

He watched John slump to the ground and got a good look at the man who killed them. He had black hair with similar dark armor that had a crest of a sword dug into the ground with a hand gripping the handle like the other invaders, except he had lines of gold spread across his armor as well and his sword was curved. He had dark black hair, with a handsome looking face. He couldn’t be any older than twenty, yet fought like a master. The image of this man burned itself into Arturo’s mind.

Arturo screamed with rage and broke free of his father’s grip before Archard grabbed him again. “Stop! We can’t—”

The next thing Arturo knew, he was on the ground. He didn’t understand why until a moment later. An arrow was buried in Archard’s chest, right where Arturo had been a second before. “Father!” Arturo yelled, scrambling to his feet, his dead brothers fleeing from his mind.

Two nearby guards were on the ground, screaming for names Arturo didn’t know. Five more men in dark armor appeared. The chest plates of their armor showed a dark sword dug into the ground, with a hand gripping the handle. It was a symbol he had never seen before.

The five men smiled upon seeing the injured Archard and rushed on him. Arturo struck first, surprising the invader, who didn’t get a chance to block. His sword cut through the armor and almost split the man in two. The second and third soldiers struck at the same time. Arturo quickly blocked and lopped both their heads off with a single stroke. He ignored the blood that splashed his face and turned to help his father.

Archard had slowed down considerably due to the arrow in his chest and the cut on his right hip. He was on the defensive, blocking as quickly as he could. One attack grazed his left shoulder. Letting out a roar, Archard slit one of the attacker’s throats and turned to the second. Before he could strike, an arrow struck him in the back.

Before the remaining soldier could finish Archard off, Arturo’s sword pierced the back of his skull, the tip of his blade poking out where the nose had been. He yanked the sword out and his father stumbled.

A couple of civilians ran past them, rushing toward the forest. Archard rested his arm on Arturo’s shoulder. “We need to get into that forest,” Archard said quietly.

“What about Jen?”

Shame was all that could describe Archard’s look. “She’s dead.”

No! How can she be dead? Arturo wanted to ask how he knew, but didn’t have time. Arrows were flying all around him, whizzing inches above his head. He grabbed his father and helped him limp toward the forest.

The fires in the back were spreading fast and the sounds of weapons clashing were dwindling as any resistance was crushed. But the screaming kept getting louder. People were on the ground, begging for help, crying out to Tarmella, their parents, or cursing everyone near them. Children were sobbing by the bodies of their dead parents, but the assailants kept moving forward. Torches were thrown into houses and some children were taken, while others were executed.

It was horrifying. Arturo wasn’t sure he would ever understand why this was happening. Who were these people? Where had they come from? There seemed no reason for their attack other than to kill.

Luckily, nobody followed them into the forest. Archard was coughing and Arturo didn’t need to ask to know his father was in pain. Blood was dripping from Archard’s wounds. Could his father survive? He was losing so much blood.

They staggered deep into the forest, neither of them speaking. Arturo didn’t stop until the screams could no longer be heard. Even then, he wanted to keep moving, but Archard could go no further and collapsed.

“Father!” Arturo exclaimed and knelt next to him. He slowly turned Archard onto his back. His father’s face was pale. “You’ve lost too much blood.”

With great effort, Archard gripped his son’s shoulder and pulled himself up, gasping for air once he was on his feet. He moved over to a nearby tree stump and sat down.

“I’m going to go look for Jen,” Arturo said. Archard couldn’t stop him. He refused to believe she was dead. It couldn’t be true. Surely someone from his family had to survive this ordeal?

“Don’t go….” Archard wheezed, closing his eyes and taking a few pained breaths. “Jen is dead.”

“How do you know?” Arturo said angrily. “How can you abandon her? Do you not love us at all?”

A pained expression shot through Archard. “I can see why you’d think that,” he said. His breathing was under more control and his words came out easier. “It’s part of being a soldier. You’ll learn one day.”

Part of being a soldier? Arturo didn’t understand what Archard was talking about. “You have to remove emotion when in battle or else you’ll make mistakes,” Archard said, grimacing as he shifted a little. “As for Jen… The house she was staying at was burned down. I saw Isabel’s parents lying on the ground with severe burns. There was screaming in the fire.” Tears fell down his face as he spoke. “I heard two girls. There was nothing I could do. Isabel came out and died a few minutes later from her burns. Jen never…”

“…made it out,” Arturo said softly. He felt ashamed of accusing his father of not loving them. He might be the last survivor of the Pentori family. The only way to save his father was if a mage was nearby, and that was unlikely.

“I’m sorry,” Archard said. The tears were flowing harder now. “I failed you all. Leann, Jen, Marcus, John…” He said the names with great difficulty. He reached for Arturo, gripping his bloody shirt. “You must live.”

Arturo remained kneeling in front of his father, studying his face closely. He was still in shock. He felt only anger. Revenge was all he could hope for now. His family was gone. There was one person he would kill, if it was the last thing he did. The person who killed his brothers had to be the leader of these raiders. He was responsible for killing everyone Arturo had loved. If he ran back now, maybe he could find and kill him.

“Don’t think about it,” Archard said as if reading Arturo’s mind. “I told you to live, not throw your life away.”

“I’ll try,” Arturo said.

“You don’t understand,” Archard coughed and panted for a moment. “The one who killed your brothers… He’s the best fighter I’ve ever seen. The four of us could have fought him and he would have slaughtered us like pigs.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve been in my share of…battles,” Archard winced as he leaned his head back. “There aren’t many who can fight like that. Just promise me you’ll… live.”

“I will try,” Arturo said again.

Archard didn’t seem to hear him.

“You must live… you must live.” Each time Archard said those words, he got weaker and weaker. It was like a chant.

“You…must…live….”

Those were Archard’s final words. His hand fell to the ground and his eyes remained transfixed on Arturo’s chest.

Everyone Arturo had ever loved was gone. He cradled his father’s body tightly and sobbed. Where would he go now? What would he do? He had no answers. He sat there and wept.