Graham lay on the floor, staring wide-eyed at the remains of the skullraider. I...killed it. His mind raced, trying to make sense of what he'd just seen. Trying to quiet the voice in the back of his mind, growing louder as he pieced together the events of that day. They all came for you...

No...

You can speak their language...

I can't be...

Even the daemons fear you...

Stop...

You're something different...

I'm not--

Something wor--

"--AHAM!!"

Luna's voice rang out, breaking Graham out of his stupor. The flames of the burning wreckage crackling in his ears. He felt a strange pain in his chest and realized he'd been gasping and breathing heavily. Luna stood over him now, her robe now stained with ash residue. It appeared that she'd been trying to speak to him.

She placed a hand upon his shoulder in an attempt to calm him, but he quickly cast her off and began scrambling away from her. If I hurt her too... The thought left unfinished as he felt his hand sink into a viscous mass.

He looked down to see that his hand had landed upon a piece of the dead skullraider's rotted flesh. Yellow blood drained out of the gooey mass and coated Graham's hand. He held the hand to his face, the blood flowing down his arm. A few drops fell from his fingertips and stained his shirt. Wide-eyed, he found it was now a struggle to even breathe and began quickly trying to force air into his lungs.

"Graham," he heard Luna say, a calming tone to her voice. But he only fought harder and harder to breathe, his heart daring to burst out of his chest. Desperate, Graham pulled his knees toward him and held his head in his hands, the yellow blood coating his hair.

"It's alright," he heard Luna say. "I'm here. Talk to me."

"Need to wake up," he muttered, finding the strength to speak. "It's another nightmare. Has to be. Please. Have to wake up."

Graham felt Luna's hand on his shoulder once more, only now he let it rest there, afraid to feel alone in the chaos of that night.

He looked up to see her staring down at him, a sad, sympathetic look in her eyes. Graham gently grabbed at her arm, meeting back her stare with a pleading gaze. "Please, tell me. What am I?"

"I--" she opened her mouth, then stopped, her face slight scrunched with a guilty look. "I...can't tell you. Not now, at least" she added upon seeing his fear returning.

"Please, I can't go on like this," he began.

"I understand, but it is not my place--"

"I need to know why. I've spent all this time."

"Graham, listen to me--"

"Just PLEASE! Tell me why I am like this--"

"Listen to me!" she shouted, placing both of her hands upon his shoulders. "I can't explain everything to you right now, but I promise you that, once we are safe, I will explain everything to you. Right now, all I ask is that you trust me. Do you?"

Graham thought for a moment of saying "no", perhaps in hopes that doing so would lead to her explaining herself here and now. Yet, it would be a lie as, in that moment, Graham felt like he was truly seeing Luna as she truly was. Not the woman who offered him honeyed words of that morning or the cold indifferent Herald of what seemed like just a few moments ago. Here, she felt vulnerable as if she was bearing herself before him, praying that he would reach out to her.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"Y...es," he finally sputtered out, his breathing returning to normal. A small smile rested on Luna's face.

"Good," she replied, then held his hands and pulled them up slightly. "Now, we need to leave this place. I'm going to pull you up. Take your time standing, dear."

Graham pulled slightly at Luna's arms as he rose to his feet. Noticing a slight buckling within his legs, Luna allowed Graham to rest upon her shoulder for a moment. "Now, then," she asked. "What became of your brother?"

*KRRSSHH!!*

The sound of splitting wood and crumbling ash startled the two. They looked behind them to see the leftside wall bearing a cavern-like hole. On the other end of it was Paul Blackwell, weilding a lumber axe.

"Come on!" he shouted to the two. Luna led Graham to the makeshift exit as the fire raged behind them.

"Wait!" Graham said, seeing the Wyrmscale Axe on the floor, lying among the now motionless tendrils of the skullraider. He bent down to lift the handle of the axe and transformed it into its lighter form, his arms grateful for the relief. Then, the two exited the home.

Now outside, Graham could fully see the extent of the damage to his childhood home. Whatever was not destroyed and scattered around the outside of the home was aflame, sure to collapse under its own weight. The window he'd spent so many nights staring out of now burst from the heat within. All around them were scattered weapons and burning papers of the family's life in Brightshade.

"It's all gone," muttered Graham. "Everything we had left of them, it's gone. Because of me."

"Hey now, brother," replied Paul. "It's only stuff. The home can be rebuilt, the weapons replaced." He then placed a hand on his older brother's shoulder. "But not everything is gone. There's still us, their sons. And the two of us, we're one of a kind."

Graham placed his hand atop his brothers in support. "They don't make 'em like us anymore."

"Damn right," Paul replied. Then, he turned to the road. "Now come on. You two need to leave right now."

As he turned, Graham saw his brother limping weakly and blood creeping along his arms. "Paul, you're hurt. Luna, you can help him, right? Cast some magi--"

"No time," interrupted Paul. "Whoever it is that's looking for you are sure to hear about this ruckus. Which means they'll be headed here soon and you two need to be gone by then."

"I'm afraid he's right," agreed Luna. "Damage this severe would require I cast magick for far longer than we can afford."

"Besides, it ain't all that bad. A few days of bedrest and I'll be good as new," said Paul. "And here, take this."

Luna walked to the road, her staff in hand while Paul guided Graham to reach for the bag of supplies he'd prepared for the journey. "Managed to save this before the home started caving in. Try to keep a better eye on it."

Graham moved to lift the bag from his brother's unsteady hand. Then, the bag slung upon his shoulder, he moved to join Luna, who aimed her staff at the road before them.

"PORTIS!!"

The ruby within her staff shattered as it had that morning, this time spreading out to summon a horse. The large mare, brown with spots of white along it neighed and whinnied as it began to become aware of its surroundings.

Luna, moving to straddle the horse, spoke to Paul. "Mr. Blackwell, I can't explain why, but I would advise you find somewhere discrete to hide for the next few days. I'm sure you have quite a few questions about--"

"Ma'am, I'm an adventurer. I've made it this far knowing when not to ask questions, so if you say to leave, I'm gone Just keep my brother safe."

"Very well, then," replied Luna, a look of relief upon her face. And, for a brief moment, a look of guilt. Graham hardly noticed it before she put her hand out to lift him atop the horse with her. As she did, The horse neighed, as if speaking to Luna.

The horse neighed once more, then reluctantly allowed Graham to ride upon it. "Just grab onto me," Luna said, without taking a look back. "And grab on tight. Bella tends to be a bit rough once she gets going."

"You got this, Graham!" his brother yelled at him. "Show those Capital bastards how we build 'em in Brightshade!"

Graham wrapped his arms around the front of Luna. Then, with a quick clik-clik of her voice, the horse named Bella took off. Graham felt the wind from the running horse blowing harshly against him, threatening to blow him off the horse completely. Luna's silver hair flowed back in the breeze, her face showing just the barest hint of excitement. The horse's hooves thumped along the Golden Road, kicking up dust with every step. The dawning sun streaked across the sky, bathing the blue sky in orange. The realization that he'd spent all night struggling to survive against the daemon brought exhaustion rushing into his system. He yearned for sleep, yet fought it off.

To his right, in the distance, Graham could see the collection of the Nightpeak Mountains, formed like fingers reaching up to the skies. Yet, nowhere could he see the mountain side that he'd known all his life. The sounds of shops opening and feet clacking about on cobblestone were nowhere, replaced by faint chirping of birds in the distance. The long, lonely walk down the road to the mill would not come today. Today, he was racing up the road to the end of the village on the first day of his new life. And he was far from alone. Graham felt a chill come across his body. He truly was leaving his home.

Along the horizon line, the sun had begun to rise and now shone bright across the lands. And with it came dark shadows that stretched and crept throughout.