I wince from the sharp sting of sunlight that greets me as I open my eyes, quickly putting my hand up to block as much of it as I can, as well as turning my whole body away from it. Ash falls from my body as I move it to the side. As I breathe in for the first time since I’ve been awake, I gag and vomit as a vile mix of blood and ash tries to invade my lungs.

I lay there coughing and dry heaving until I knew for sure that I didn’t have anything left in my system. With the burning sensation of bile stuck in my throat and the tears from pain and effort in my eyes, I slowly start to get up, shaking a little as I finally sit up all the way.

I go to wipe away the tears in my eyes with my hand, but get ash and dirt in them instead. I try to blink out the gunk in my eyes, but the blinking doesn’t seem to get it out. I take the sleeve of my dress and try to get it out with success. I try to wipe the mess from my mouth as well. I look around my village once I’m done wiping my mouth clean and my vision is clear and I’m reminded of the horrors of the night prior.

My heart aches as I look at the remains of my home, the homes of all the people I have known since I was a little girl are now just piles of ash, charred wood, and broken stumps littering the scene around me but the more I look, the more I notice something important. Where are everyone’s bodies?

Choking back a sob, I stand on shaky legs and move to the last spot I saw my father. I collapse on the scene. Looking around, I don’t see him anywhere. I shift through the charred wood and ash, but all I find of him are his clothes. The rip at the stomach of his tunic causes a memory to tear its way to the forefront of my mind.

A soldier backing him into a corner and the blade piercing him, I cry out as I see my father dies before my eyes. I try to cast a spell to kill the man that murdered my father, but rough slender fingers clasp around my mouth. I remember the calluses on her hands; I remember the cold steel that was pressed against my throat and then-.

I lift my hand up and feel the raised skin of a scar on my neck, still tender from healing, but I didn’t heal myself. I couldn’t heal myself, so how is it closed up, how am I even alive? The dry blood that I thought would still be on my father’s tunic is even missing. I don’t understand what this means. Did they all escape? If so, why did they leave the clothes they were wearing behind? Still holding onto his tunic, I stand up once more and walk towards the last sighting of my mother. Tears running down my face as I hear the echoes of screams and cries for mercy from last night.

Arriving at where I last saw my mother, I go to my knees and dig my fingers into the ash once again, clawing and moving aside all the debris until I find my mother’s leather armor. I can’t find her either. Silver shimmers in the sunlight as it peaks out from the detritus. Picking it up by the chain, I adjust my mother’s locket so it sits in my palm.

She never takes this off. She’s worn this for as long as I can remember. I look around, wondering if I could make out footprints in this mess. I call out, hoping to get a response from any survivors nearby, but every attempt gifts me with a sharp pain in my throat and a garble of noises.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

I hold on to my neck, trying to grab at the pain that is piercing my throat. I try to speak a few words, but without being able to finish the first word I stop, tears fresh in my eyes as the pain from speaking was too much. Hunching over, I let the tears fall as I find one more thing they took from me. The rage and sadness permeate my soul once again.

I scrap away more of the ash in desperation and anger, hoping to see any sort of evidence that she didn’t just up and disappear with the rest of the villagers. Throwing the ashen remains of my home away at a hurried pace, but all that turns up is more of her armor and her rapier, I sit there on my aching knees, holding onto her sword and locket and my fathers tunic as my breathing starts to pick up.

I feel with my thumb over the engraved tree on the locket as I catch my breath and try to think about what might have happened to everyone. I sit there in a daze, lost in passing thoughts slipping through my fingers, unable to take hold of a single one and far too many to count. My breath quickens and my body shakes as my emotions take over. I hug my mother’s sword and my father’s tunic close, tightening my grip on her locket as I hunch over and start to hyperventilate.

A loud bang in the distance causes me to stiffen. I look towards where the booming noise originated, listening closely. I try to hear if any other noise is coming from that direction. Trying to figure out the sounds with my constant sniffling isn’t easy, but I hear it. The squeaking of old wheels and the rattling of a cart on a dirt road are all that greet my ears. I quickly stand and rush to the forest’s edge to hide. The sudden standing causes stars to appear in my sight, but I ignore them and try to rush with stiff legs. I’m unsure if the wagon is carrying returning soldiers or who they may be, so not taking any risks I had to rush and hide.

I luckily reach my destination before the wagon reaches the village proper. Leaning against a tree, I peer around the tree; I watch the visitor without exposing myself. Trying my best to calm my breathing, I lean against the tree, close my eyes, and try to calm down. Once my breathing calms down, I open my eyes once more and watch the man’s expression as he looks at the devastation that was once Initium Village.

His wagon slowly comes to a halt at the entrance of the village. I watch as he slowly gets off of his wagon and takes off his cap. The man is middling height, balding with graying hair, a slight stomach poking out and a scruffy mustache over his lips. I can’t tell his age, I have had little interaction with humans and they seem to age much quicker than elves do but I can see the deep lines, not wrinkles like our village chief had so I can assume he isn’t all that old.

He moves towards the center of the village, the deep frown. While he moves, I go to put on my father’s tunic and my mother’s locket. If I need to run, I need to make sure I don’t have too many things in my hands so I can move quicker and without issues. He crouches low and picks up some of the ash and lets it fall between his fingers as he looks on, lost in his thoughts, it seems.

A girl in his wagon calls out to him, “Why did we stop?” She is rubbing at her eyes as she gets out from the back of the wagon. I watch as her expression rapidly changes from groggy to surprise and then horrified as she takes in the scene. “Get back inside, lay down and hide yourself until I know it’s safe!” The girl takes a second, but once the words finally reach her, she quickly ducks into the back of the wagon, disappearing from my sight once more.

From the little I saw from her, she was about my age and beautiful from the little I could see from this distance. Curly auburn hair reaching down to her shoulders, a delicate heart-shaped face with dark pools of brown. Light freckles across her cheeks with full lips and a small turned-up nose, much like my own. She was breathtaking even with her face looking horrified at the surrounding area. I had a hard time looking away from her.

I pick up my mother’s rapier and lean against the tree once more after dawning on the new clothes and I instantly clink the sword against the locket, making a loud song. I duck quickly behind the tree as I see the man look towards me. Cursing to myself, I run deeper into the forest. I still do not know who this man is or what his purposes are, and I don’t want to stay and find out.

I can hear the man call out to me as I run as fast as I can away from him and, for whatever reason, he has to be here. I wanted to stick around and see what he was here for, but the fear of running into more humans overtook me and my instant reaction was to run. So I run, run far and as fast from this man and whoever that woman was.