The village square was filled with the sounds of panicked chatter, sobs, shrieks, and shouting for answers. Davon and Evander stood next to a balding middle-aged man whose fancy suit and sash marked him as the village mayor.
Draco and the others stood in the square with the villagers, each looking to one another in concern and confusion. None of them had any idea what was happening. Davon took a deep breath and shouted over everyone; his voice booming like thunder.
“SILENCE!”
The square fell silent, all eyes on the Knight. Davon nodded.
“Thank you. Now, an Eye opened above the forest less than a mile away from here. The Afflicted will be heading this way soon.”
“How can you be sure?” A woman in the crowd yelled.
“Because Afflicted follow the smell of blood.”
Draco and the others looked to their uniforms; still stained red from earlier.
“You!” An older woman shouted, pointing at Jethro. “You brought them here!”
“They had no way of knowing-” the Mayor started before the crowd erupted into shouting and screaming. Draco found himself being pushed from behind as the villagers shoved him and the others out of their midst to the front; towards Davon and Evander. A voice in the crowd cut through the panicked screams.
“SHUT UP!”
The crowd parted as an elderly man with dark skin, a large build and white stubble stepped through them.
“The lot of you need to shut up.” He said, taking a place next to the Knights. “You all know full well no one can control an Eye. Eyes are a trial of life! And now it is this village’s turn to face one. So will you all squawk like a group of chickens, waiting for death while trying to find someone to blame for it? Or will you face it and overcome it as a community?”
He stepped over to Davon and gave the Knight a hearty smack on the back.
“I know where I stand. What about the rest of you?”
The crowd remained silent, most now looking at the ground in shame. Davon nodded to the elderly man and turned to the Mayor.
“How many Awakened live here?” He asked. The mayor shrugged.
“About ten or so, but…” He motioned, and a barn owl flew over to him and flashed on his hand, reappearing as a letter opener. “We are not warriors.”
“Fantastic.” Davon sighed.
A man with lightly tanned skin and a solid muscular build broke from the crowd and approached the Knights.
“You kids are all First Ranks, right?” He asked, and they all nodded slowly; a few looking to their leaders. The man smiled widely. “Follow me then!”
He led the twelve teens to a blacksmithing shop, where he rummaged around in a large wooden crate.
“Now, this is not the greatest of my work mind you, but…” he pulled up a steel breastplate and set it on the table beside him. “These should provide some protection against those monsters.”
Jethro stepped forward and took the breastplate, putting it over his head and letting it rest on his shoulders, testing its fit. He smiled.
“Thank you sir. We will get equipped here. You should head to the Church.”
“And hide with the women and children?” The blacksmith said, giving Jethro an offended look. “Boy, this is my home. These are my people.” A ram walked out of the back, giving an irritated bleat. The black smith put his hand on the ram and it flashed away in a crimson blaze. The smith now stood gripping a flaming one-handed hammer and sporting a pair of thick leather gloves, a determined smile on his face as he flexed his hammer arm, a Third Rank Brand on his shoulder. “I will fight.”
Davon and Evander stood in the village square, directing the townsfolk around. Women, children and the elderly to the Church, along with any who were unable or unwilling to fight. Everyone else was grabbing anything that could be used as a weapon or lighting braziers around the village as the sun slowly set behind the trees. Evander elbowed Davon as their rookies returned with the smith, each one wearing some armour, all looking nervous.
“Alright,” Davon said, turning to them and pointing. “Saphira, Victoria, and Samuel, I want you three on the West side. Draco, Elizabeth, and Jethro, far East side. Arius, Roan, and Wyatt, you three will be going back and forth from both of those groups. Give assistance as needed. Willow, Klimt and Sebastian, you three are in front of the Church. Anything that isn’t human approaches, kill it.”
“What about us?” The smith asked as a group of around fifteen men with pitchforks, axes and hammers gathered behind him.
“Same as the patrol group. Search the streets and houses. Unawakened will not be able to kill the Afflicted. Do not take any unnecessary risks. If you can, limit the creatures’ movements so the blacksmith can get a clean strike to their head. Do not fight more than one at a time.”
“And me?” The dark skinned elderly man asked. Davon gave the man a pat on the shoulder.
“You had best head to the Church with others.”
“To hell with that!” He spat. “I know I’m old, but I’ll be damned if you expect me to sit on my haunches pissing myself while I wait to find out if I die or not! I worked for the Drakan Guild for over fifty years! Ain’t that right Teddy?”
Everyone looked down as a small black bear cub stepped out from the man’s shadow.
“Uhh…” Davon was lost for words. Evander smiled and approached the man.
“Then you can patrol as well. Assist our youngsters as you see fit.”
The old man puffed out his chest, smiling proudly.
“Now listen up!” Davon spoke again. “Each of you will be fighting only in open areas. If the Afflicted breach the walls, engage. Do not go outside the walls. Do not chase any that ignore you. Stay in your groups, stay in your positions. Understood?”
“Sir!” the twelve teens replied in unison, saluting with their right fist over their heart.
“Move out!”
The groups all dispersed, though Willow lingered for a moment, looking back over shoulder to the Leaders.
“Umm sirs?” She asked. “What will you two be doing?”
Both men looked to her before turning their eyes to the wide open village gates; to the direction of the growing sounds of the approaching Afflicted.
“We will be meeting them head on,” Davon said as a triceratops stepped out onto their plane, standing beside him and letting out a bellowing roar.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“And keeping things as boring for you kids as possible.” Evander finished, scratching behind the ears of a saber toothed tiger as it roared down the road.
~
Draco stood in the West square, staring at the top of the wooden wall that marked the edge of the village. A few dozen feet past it was the forest. He looked out at it, listening to the sounds of battle coming from the main road. Roars, screeches, claws against steel. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. Behind him, Jethro leaned against the wall of a house, his arms crossed and his head lowered, eyes closed. A short ways away Elizabeth paced back and forth, her hands clasped in front of her as her eyes darted around nervously. Jack trotted at her side, looking up at her with concern.
A loud crash was heard from the direction of the main road, and Draco turned.
“That’s it. I’m going.”
He took two steps towards the road leading to the village gate when Jethro’s Spirit, the huge white bear, stepped out in front of him, blocking the path.
“We were told to hold our position here.” Jethro said, not looking up as his Spirit glared at Draco.
“Nothing is happening here!” Draco snapped, turning to Jethro as the lizard leapt off of his head and landed on the bear’s face. “I could be helping them!”
“You’d get in their way.”
“How would you know?”
“Because it’s you.”
Jethro was looking up now, glaring at Draco. Liz had stopped pacing and was looking between the two boys, unable to find any words.
Draco glared at Jethro and walked up to him, stopping a few feet away from him.
“You care to elaborate on that, Kerach?” He asked, his hands tightening into fists. Jethro sighed heavily and stepped away from the wall, turning his body to face Draco.
“I mean that you’re a walking, talking embarrassment to the Knights. Name one day this week where you didn’t get your ass kicked or make a complete fool of yourself.”
Draco gritted his teeth, his fists shaking at his sides. Jethro smirked.
“You can’t, can you?”
Draco lunged forward and grabbed Jethro by the collar of his uniform.
Elizabeth’s scream made both boys turn their gazes from each other to look at her. The girl was standing frozen a few feet away, her eyes wide in terror, her mouth hanging open as she pointed a trembling finger towards the wooden wall. The boys turned to the direction she was pointing and saw a gaunt skeletal face looming over the edge of the wall, its hollow eyes staring at them. Draco and Jethro both took a step away from the wall, each of them feeling their pulses quicken.
Draco felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. His eyes were locked on the faint glimmer of light coming from the dark hollow sockets of the beast as it stared back at him. It’s mouth slowly opened, letting out a disturbing wheeze; a faint cloud of Miasma exuding from the depths of its throat as it lurched higher and scrapped a jagged hoof over the edge of the wall, scratching at the interior of the wall as it tried to find a grip to pull itself over. Draco’s breathing was coming in sharp, rapid breaths. He felt light headed. Sweat was running down his face. His hands were shaking. His mind was in a hurricane; unable to focus on a single coherent thought.
A sharp pain in his right hand snapped him back to the moment and he looked down to see the lizard clinging to his right leg, its jaws clamped down on the bottom of his hand as it glared up at him. Draco took a deep, slow breath and exhaled. Beside him, Shiver was licking Jethro’s hand, and the boy gave the beast a grateful scratch behind the ears.
“DRACO!”
“SHIVER!”
The two Spirits vanished in a flash, and the two young Knights charged at the wall, weapons in hand. Jethro swung his axe into the beast’s leg, severing it as Draco thrust his blade up into the skeletal face; the blade bursting into flames as it pierced through the bone, the fire licking through the skull’s eye holes as it gave an unearthly shriek as it slid back to the outer side of the wall.
The two boys stepped away from the wall, panting and grinning in victory, though it was short lived. Their eyes looked back to the edge of the wall as several heads poked up from behind it; hooves and claws striking against the wall as the beasts tried to force their way past the barrier.
Liz took a slow step backwards as Jack looked up at her, whimpering in concern. The wall creaked against the weight of the Afflicted, and she took another step back. One of the Afflicted cast its gaze towards her, and a chill ran through her body. She screamed, turned on her heel and ran, her Spirit close behind.
“‘Lizabeth!” Draco shouted after her as he watched her go. He turned to follow as Jethro shouted at him.
“Focus! The wall won’t hold!”
Draco stopped and turned as the wood creaked and cracked, several splinters shooting off as it heaved in towards them. Another shriek from the beasts, and the wall collapsed with a thunderous melody of snaps, cracks and thuds. A cloud of dust shot up from the ground, and the two young knights took a cautious step back as dozens of faintly glowing eyes shone through at them. The air slowly began to fill with the sounds of the Afflicted. Growling, groaning, wheezing, drooling.
Draco took another step back, both hands gripping the handle of his sword held out before him, his eyes scanning the dust cloud as it slowly dissipated. Where would the first one come from? He heard the snap of a twig to his left and he turned to look.
Nothing there.
The dust cloud erupted as a canine Afflicted leapt out, jaws wide as it flew through the air towards Draco. The boy started to turn back, a curse forming on his lips as Jethro’s axe came down on the beast’s skull. Draco flinched as the front of the beast’s head flew over his shoulder, spattering him with blood as the rest of the body crumpled to the ground.
Jethro did not even look at him, instead keeping his attention on the beasts that were now charging out from the cloud. Jethro met their charge, his axe swinging with fierce precision as it cut through the monsters. Draco found himself momentarily mesmerized as he watched. One, two, three, four, five beasts were slain in a matter of moments. He blinked and shook his head.
“Damn it! He’s got a head start!” Draco thought angrily to himself as he charged into the left side of the group. He swung at a cow-looking Afflicted, his sword cleanly slicing through the center of his skull, splitting it in two. The beast stumbled back with a gurgling noise as blood poured from the neck hole, the two halves of his head flopping around on the paper thin skin and muscle. Satisfied that it was done for, he turned to the next one; a former boar if he had to guess. He spun and swung low, his sword gliding through the beast, dissecting it in half. He did not pay attention to it as he moved past it and thrust his sword into the gaping mouth of what was once a bear. The blade ignited, and what remained of the beast became engulfed in flames as it choked on the steel.
“I can do this!” Draco thought to himself with a smile. “I can slay these monsters!”
He pulled the sword free and turned to strike the next Afflicted and froze. The skin was tight against its cheek bones. The muscle was gone from the arms. The eyes were sunken and gray. The hair was all but gone. But he was staring at what was once a human.
Draco’s mind flashed back to earlier that day with the bandits. To the few months ago with Kled. His arms shook. He could not bring himself to swing the sword, and the Afflicted lunged at him. Its hands gripped his arms, and the momentum of the lunge caused Draco to stumble. He fell on his back, his sword bouncing a few feet away as the Afflicted lay on top of him, its boney fingers digging into his arms as he tried to push it off. He could not get any leverage against it, and he felt his eyes tear up as the creature stared down at him, its jaws snapping open and closed as the blank eyes seemed to stare through him.
“This thing is not human.” Draco thought as terror filled his body. “It is another monster!”
The creature’s mouth opened wide as two leather boots connected with the side of its head. The Afflicted was launched off of Draco as Jethro drop kicked the beast off into another; the two toppling over on the ground.
Draco stared up at the night sky, taking deep, rapid breaths. Jethro appeared over him, staring down at him, and reached down to him. Draco lifted an arm to accept the hand up, but Jethro reached past his hand and grabbed him by the front of his armour. With a mighty tug, Jethro yanked Draco up to his feet, bringing him almost nose to nose with him. Draco felt shocked as he stared at Jethro’s rage filled face; an expression he had never seen on the boy before.
“Get your shit together, Pendra!” Jethro roared in his face, leaving Draco speechless. “For my entire life I have heard nothing out of you except how you’re going to be the next Leader of The Order! And for my entire life I have been waiting to take that ego of yours and grind it into the dirt! Yet here you are, pissing your pants and getting your ass run over by everything with a pulse around here!” Jethro had Draco up on his tip toes now, and Draco was worried he was going to lose his balance and fall again as Jethro glared at him. “Now pull your head out of your ass, Athurious, and get back on that high horse of yours so I can finally kick you off of it myself!”
Jethro pushed Draco away from him, and he stumbled a few steps back, stopping as he passed over his sword. Draco kept his eyes on Jethro as he continued to glare at him. Draco exhaled what breath he had in him and smirked; flashing Jethro the old ‘Athurious Pendra’ expression of superiority as he bent down and retrieved his sword.
“You will knock me off of my high horse, you say?” Draco asked, gripping the sword handle tightly. The blade ignited, and Draco rushed Jethro, thrusting the flaming blade past his face and into the maw of the beast that had snuck up behind him.
Jethro stared at Draco in shock as he continued to smirk at him.
“You will have to get on my level for that to happen first, Kerach.”
Draco pulled his sword back and turned to face the horde again. Jethro closed his eyes for a moment and chuckled.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Pendra.” He said, readying his axe as he stood beside his rival.
“Draco.” He said, the flames of the blade burning brighter in the face of the overwhelming odds. “Call me Draco.”