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The Blight Of Galoria
The Fall of Elaria

The Fall of Elaria

The village of Elaria lay in the shadow of the evening sun, its peaceful existence shattered by the arrival of a dark storm. The air, once filled with the chatter of merchants and the laughter of children, now echoed with the screams of the desperate and the clash of steel. The familiar scent of fresh bread from the baker’s stall was replaced by the acrid stench of smoke and blood.

Aric was in the fields when the raiders struck, the weight of a long day’s labor heavy on his shoulders. His dark brown tunic, once just stained with earth, was now damp with sweat, and his boots, worn from years of toil, sunk deep into the soil. He wiped his brow with a calloused hand, taking a moment to look at the sun as it dipped behind the trees. A cry from the village pierced the air, shattering the momentary calm.

Panic surged through him as he dropped his pitchfork, the dull clang drowned by the rising screams. His heart hammered in his chest as he sprinted toward the village, feet pounding the earth with desperate urgency. When he crested the small hill overlooking Elaria, his breath caught in his throat.

The village was in flames.

Raiders—men clad in blackened steel and fur-lined armor, their faces hidden behind masks shaped like snarling skulls—moved through the streets like a plague, cutting down anyone in their path. The air was thick with the sickening stench of burning wood and flesh. Bodies littered the ground—men, women, children—no one was spared.

Aric’s gaze locked onto a figure amidst the chaos—his brother, Kael. The younger boy, slight and wiry, was frantically trying to help a group of villagers barricade themselves inside the town hall. His green tunic, now smeared with soot and dirt, hung loosely on his thin frame. Kael’s face was pale, his eyes wide with fear as he struggled to lift a heavy wooden beam.

"Kael!" Aric shouted, his voice raw with fear. He pushed past the wreckage of a nearby cart, his feet slipping on blood-soaked cobblestones.

Kael looked up, his chest heaving. “Aric!” His voice cracked, barely audible over the din. “We can’t leave them! We have to—"

“There’s no time,” Aric snapped, grabbing Kael’s arm. “They’re coming. We have to go.”

“But—”

"Now!" Aric’s grip tightened, his urgency cutting off any further protest. He pulled Kael away, their feet pounding the cobbled streets as they fled. Around them, the village descended further into ruin. The walls of homes and shops crumbled beneath the weight of fire and steel. The cries of the dying rang in their ears as they ran, Kael's eyes darting from corpse to corpse. Their village—once a place of warmth and safety—had become a slaughterhouse. They reached their family’s cottage, only to find the door hanging from its hinges. Aric hesitated, dread coiling in his gut. The interior of the cottage was in shambles—tables overturned, the hearth fire long snuffed out. And in the center of the chaos lay their father.

“Father!” Kael’s voice cracked as he stumbled inside, falling to his knees beside their father’s still form. His hands hovered over the body, as if afraid to touch, afraid to confirm the truth.

Their father’s chest had been split open, a gaping wound left by a raider’s axe. Blood pooled beneath him, staining the wooden floorboards.

“No, no, no,” Kael whispered, his voice thick with disbelief. “Father, please… please wake up.” Aric stood frozen in the doorway, the sight of his father’s lifeless eyes boring into him. The weight of his failure settled over him like a shroud. He should’ve been here. He should’ve fought harder. He should’ve—

A sudden noise snapped him back to the present—a heavy footstep.

Before Aric could react, a raider loomed in the doorway, his skull-like mask catching the dim light from the fire outside. His sword, slick with blood, gleamed in the gloom.

“Kael, get down!” Aric’s shout was reflexive as he lunged, grabbing the pitchfork he had carried from the field. He rammed it into the raider’s side, the sharp prongs tearing through flesh and armor. The raider let out a gurgled cry before collapsing, his sword clattering to the ground.

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Kael stared at the raider’s body, his face pale and eyes wide with shock. His breath came in ragged gasps. "You killed him," he whispered, almost to himself.

Aric yanked Kael to his feet, his hands shaking. “We have to leave. Now.”

Kael shook his head, his body limp. “No… I… I can’t… we can’t just leave him.”

Aric’s voice grew harsher, his grief giving way to urgency. “There’s nothing we can do for him now, Kael. He’s gone.” He glanced at their father’s body one last time, his heart heavy with guilt.

Tears streamed down Kael’s face as he was pulled away, his sobs echoing in the quiet ruin of their home. “Father…”

They ran, not stopping until the village and its horrors were swallowed by the thick forest surrounding Elaria. The trees loomed tall and oppressive, their branches casting twisted shadows in the fading light. The sound of their footsteps was muffled by the dense underbrush, but the memory of the village clung to them like smoke.

When they could run no further, they collapsed in a small clearing, gasping for breath. The silence of the forest was deafening after the chaos of the village, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves.

As night fell, they made a small fire, though neither spoke for a long time. The flames flickered between them, casting eerie shadows on their faces. Kael sat with his knees pulled to his chest, his eyes red and swollen from crying. He stared into the fire, his jaw clenched, his whole body trembling.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s your fault.”

Aric looked up, confused. “What?”

Kael’s hands balled into fists, his voice rising with each word. “It’s your fault! You left him! You could’ve saved him!”

Aric’s face hardened. “Kael, I—”

“You should’ve been there! You should’ve fought!” Kael’s voice cracked, raw with emotion. “He’s dead because of you!”

Aric’s chest tightened, anger and guilt warring within him. “You think I wanted this? You think I don’t blame myself every second?”

Kael glared at him, tears streaming down his face. “I hate you…”

Aric was silent, his own eyes burning with unshed tears. He couldn’t argue.

The silence after Kael’s words was suffocating. The crackle of the fire seemed deafening in the absence of their voices, each flame licking the night sky like a small, cruel reminder of the burning village they had fled. Aric sat rigid, staring into the fire, trying to swallow the torrent of emotions that surged within him—rage, guilt, grief—but none of them would settle.

“You think I don’t feel that?” Aric finally whispered, his voice tight. “You think I don’t carry it with me already? That I don’t see Father’s face every time I close my eyes?”

Kael’s face was streaked with tears, but his eyes burned with anger. “It’s different for you. You could’ve done something. You weren’t there, Aric!”

“And what would you have me do?!” Aric shouted suddenly, his voice rising in the stillness of the forest. “Fight off a dozen raiders on my own? Die next to him? Would that have made it better, Kael?”

Kael flinched at his brother’s outburst, but his voice didn’t soften. “You always think you know what’s best. You didn’t even try. You dragged me away like a coward!”

Aric’s fists clenched at his sides, his breath coming hard and fast. The words stung deep, even though he knew Kael’s grief was speaking for him. “I did what I had to do to keep you alive, Kael. We couldn’t stay there. You’d be dead too if I hadn’t—”

“I don’t care!” Kael’s voice cracked, hoarse from yelling. He stood up abruptly, his face contorted with grief and fury. “I’d rather be dead than live with this! He was our father, Aric! And you just… left him. You left him to die, and now you’re dragging me away like nothing ever happened!”

Aric stood too, the distance between them feeling like a chasm. His eyes bore into Kael’s, their shared pain rising to the surface like a wound too fresh to heal. “Do you think I wanted this?” Aric’s voice trembled with barely contained emotion. “I couldn’t save him, Kael. And you know what? I hate myself for it. Every second since I saw his body, I hate myself for not being there. But I couldn’t let you die too. I couldn’t… lose you both.”

Kael’s shoulders slumped as the fight drained out of him, leaving only exhaustion and sorrow in its place. He sank back down to the ground, pulling his knees to his chest, his sobs quiet but unrelenting. “I just… I don’t understand why this happened.”

Aric slowly lowered himself to the ground as well, staring into the fire. His voice was barely a whisper. “Neither do I.”

The two brothers sat in silence after that, the fire crackling softly between them. The night was cold, and the weight of their loss hung in the air like a thick fog, suffocating and unshakable. Eventually, their exhaustion overwhelmed their grief. Kael curled into himself, his back to Aric, while Aric sat staring into the embers long after his brother’s breathing had slowed, the pain in his chest keeping him awake.

When sleep finally claimed him, it was restless, filled with flashes of fire and blood, the sounds of the village’s screams still fresh in his ears.

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