The evening night sky was clear, and stars shone brightly, reflecting their light onto the barrier whose grid of crosses illuminated a purple net stretching across the sky. The villagers had long finished their work and went to their homes. Street lamps were out, and only the entrance to the village was guarded by two local villagers in case any merchant or lost traveler strumbled upon the village. It was so silent throughout the village that no sounds of any insects or wildlife could be heard, just gushes of light wind.

The guards sat on two stumps and drank mead as they looked above. Only a few hours till dawn, and they'll be able to sleep in their beds.

"Hey, look, a falling star," said the guard showing the light that went across the sky.

"Isn't that too close and under the barrier?" asked the other guard.

"Yeah, you're right. It does seem odd," he replied.

But just as he finished his sentence, a few more lights flew across the sky.

"Those are not stars! We have to wake pe..." but as he was in the middle of the sentence, there was a whoosh sound, and he fell from his stump.

"What the..." panicky said the other guard while looking around, trying to see what was happening as his comrade was already lying in a puddle of blood.

But before he could adequately react and blow the horn to issue a warning sound, the second whoosh was heard, and he too joined his comrade. Both had arrows in their heads. Someone with high marksmanship skills was skilled enough to hit them from a distance in the dark.

In the sky, more lights were flying, but those lights were not stars. Instead, they were arrows set on fire and shot onto the village homes. They were not precise, but that was probably not the intention of the culprits. From all that were shot, only a few needed to hit the wooden roofs and set the houses on fire. Villagers probably wouldn't realize what was happening before they were trapped in their burning houses.

After a few minutes, the sound of a horn was heard. It seems someone in the village did notice the fire was trying to warn people. From houses that started burning, people started running out, and from those unaffected, lamps were being lit as people were woken to the sound.

Those closest to the gate were unfortunate, as once they opened their doors, they were met with the same precise shots. A mother with a small child came out of one of the houses and started looking around while closing the door behind her. Mere moments after, her body was sliding down against the door, leaving a blood trail on it as her head got penetrated by an arrow. Behind the door, a child was being traumatized as he saw his mother's corpse. Then a figure appeared in front of the child. This person had no face. He was wearing a black leather jacket with a hood covering his head and a thin black cloth covering his entire face. He dragged the child back into the darkness without saying a single word.

While this was occurring, villagers that lived further back in the village started organizing. They took whatever tools they could use as weapons and went out on the main road to confront the enemy. Several village adventurers joined them.

"You there, leave this village now!" one of the villagers yelled as they were charging the front.

Slash, slash, slash. That was the last noise they heard before being cut down by one of the faceless people. This one had a sharp thin sword with a handle with a head resembling a goat. The man then proceeded to walk further, and behind him, white smoke was trailing on the ground. It covered all the corpses in a thin layer, but there was no fire. The smoke was coming from an incense carried by a person in robes whose sleeves were covered in shining red runes.

***

"Huh, what's all the noise?" asked Heron, still half asleep. From a small window above him, an orange-red light was being cast onto the ceiling. He started to get up and put on his shoes. While putting them on, he started hearing shrieks and screams, getting louder and louder. He ran to the front door but didn't open it all the way, just enough that he could pry what was going on outside.

With his house being on a small hill on the far end of the village, he had a landscape view where he could see most of it. Where the gates to the village were, there was an enormous fire, and maybe he panicked so much at that moment that he went delusional, but he thought he saw a demon-like face within those flames, looking like it was devouring the houses that were in front of the village. Then he saw a villager running further down the road, and he just fell, probably from being shot from behind.

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Heron slammed the door shut and crouched in the nearest corner.

"This can't be real, this can't be real!" sobbed Heron while trying to calm himself, swinging back and forth.

A few minutes passed, and loud steps were heard in front of the door.

"I'm going to die," thought Heron as he was about release a scream, but when the door opened, it was Haran that ran inside the house.

"Thank the gods that they kept you safe," said Haran, relieved to find his son still alive. "We must leave immediately," he said and picked Heron in his arms.

They ran into a wheat field behind their house, heading towards an old mill. Once at the door, Haran looked around to see if they were followed. Then he entered with Heron. There was a dim light from an oil lamp that barely had any oil. The room they entered had a haystack, an old cabinet, and a small pantry door on the bottom of the floor. Haran opened the door. There was more hay at the bottom of it. He placed Heron there.

Still crying, Heron tried to latch back onto his father, but Haran stopped him.

"Please listen carefully, my son. You can't go with me," said Haran in a sorrowful voice. Then he proceeded to pull a small pouch from his inner pocket. The pouch was emitting dim blue light.

"Hold on to this. It is a very important item. Not many of these remain in this world. If you ever find yourself in a situation so dire, you can sell it, and it will provide you with enough money to live off for a few years." said Haran as he placed the pouch in Heron's hands.

"We must part ways now. The outside world is a cruel one, and there are many injustices. People will belittle you and tell you that you have no worth. But you will prove them wrong. I do not doubt that one day you'll achieve greatness. You will exceed my highest expectations, and I know I'll be the proudest father in the federation and beyond. But until that day comes, do what you can to survive."

Heron started to sob, which made Haran shush him.

"Now, now don't cry. You need to be brave now. Please don't be afraid. We'll cross paths again, I'm sure of it. Until then, my final prayer is for the gods to guide your way."

Haran shut the trapdoor, turned off the weak light, and now there were only echoes of his footprints walking away. A few minutes later, there were a bunch of steps rumbling around the mill. There was a loud yell.

"I see him."

"Good. Don't let that bastard escape at any cost!"

It was not known who was making those sounds. Heron shivered and kept the gem in the inner pocket of his shirt, pressing it tightly. Then, at some point, he fell asleep.

The smoke hid away the night sky as the majority of the village of Haugstad was burning. Flames engulfed the night, and by the time morning came, there were only charred corpses and ashes of what once was a peaceful fishing village.

The light of the stars shuns bright as more than half of the day has passed. Wheels turn as the three small steam trucks drive down the dirt road. Finally, at one point, they stopped. Around 20 men came out of the trucks.

The brigade commander ordered his men to line up.

"I don't think we'll find anything here, but look if there are any survivors."

"Yes, sir!" the men answered back stoically and then spread out looking.

Now only the commander and one other soldier remained, the soldier probably being his right hand.

"This is the third village this year. I don't know if their goal is to weaken the cities by destroying supply lines, but we don't have the men power to cover every village. We should be writing to the federation ministry to ask other kingdoms to provide aid from their adventurers at least." he said.

"Did they leave their mark?" he continued.

"If it was them, it should be by the village entrance." responded the soldier.

Two of them then proceeded to walk to the entrance of the ruined village of Haugstad.

"I hope gods condemn these sick villains to the darkest depths of the abyss. May their souls be lost in the eternal void," he said, hissing as he looked to the ground.

In front of what once was the entrance, there was a large carving on the ground. This carving couldn't have been done by any ordinary tool. It had to be magic.

"I don't know if we should pray to send their souls to the abyss as the demon they worship is probably awaiting them. We should not give them the joy." replied the soldier, sighing as he also looked at the carving.

"Any word from the clergy on what demon we are looking at?" asked the commander.

"Clergy has not given the demon the name, but the same face has appeared throughout multiple kingdoms in the past few years."

The face carved onto the ground was a face of a goat-like creature.