Jason tucked his wife closer to his side and did his best to shelter her from the pelting rain that was half a winter’s breath from being sleet.

It didn’t work much, but Dara shuffled until she could fit inside his coat with him, and that was warmer, even if they were both soaked.

“What’s going on?” He asked into her ear. The whole town had been ushered into the square by armored soldiers. A LOT of armored soldiers- who seemed to be looking for something.

Or someone.

Jason had a bad feeling about all this.

“I don’t know,” Dara whispered back. She was afraid, and her fingers tangled in his forge-singed shirt. “They rounded up everyone. I was at home making a potion for Yenna.”

Their cottage was out on the very edge of the forest. Not a long trek, but not one that was easily found if you didn’t already know where it was.

A man, taller than the rest and clad in golden armor, stepped up on the stage they usually used for musicians during feast days. His hair was as pale as his skin and had a strange way of making him look like a ghost-made-man.

“I am the Hammer of the Sun,” he announced regally, and Jason’s bad feeling turned into full-on alarm. “My name is Aur. I am the king of these lands and was chosen by divine right!”

His words got a mixed reaction from the townsfolk, as the few who knew the Prophesy shifted nervously, and everyone else tried to figure out why their mages suddenly looked so shifty.

Jason pulled his wife closer and started looking around for a quick way out of the square.

The Hammer of the Sun was supposed to be the enemy of the Lightning Witch.

The same Lightning Witch who trembled like a leaf against his chest, and who put off little bolts when she laughed so hard she cried.

They could have his wife over his dead body.

“I have come to deliver you from her tyranny,” the king continued like he was just warming up. “Even in Sunhold, I have heard that the Witch is here.”

They were almost to the edge of the square, when the tomato flew out of the cloud and splattered against the golden breastplate with unnerving aim.

“You leave our witch alone!”

It was Yenna. Heavily-pregnant Yenna, who was a fair hand with a mace, and had biceps like corded steel from a lifetime as a baker. Yenna, who’s morning sickness was only eased by Dara’s potions.

Dead silence filled the square, and then soldiers began pushing through the crowd towards the pregnant baker. Jason froze, torn between protecting his friend, and protecting his wife.

Daramethe had no such compunctions.

As the first soldier went to grab the pregnant woman, a flash of lightning split down out of the sky and left ozone and blackened stone in its wake even as thunder roared so loud it nearly flattened the crowd.

“Leave her alone!” Dara cried fiercely. The townsfolk scattered back from her as little blue bolts began crawling over her skin and down her hair. “I’m here!”

Aur wasted no time. He drew his sword and lept off the platform. The crowd swirled, and angry shouts filled the air, but no one wanted to charge the well-armed soldiers with nothing but what they carried.

“Kill her!” Aur roared, and Jason only had enough time to grab up a long board to stop that heavy sword from coming down on his wife.

“You’re not the Hammer of the Sun,” he grunted, and got his footing. Aur stares at him, and tried to free his sword from the hardwood plank. With his feet planted, Jadon wasn’t going anywhere, and when he brought his own forge-born strength to bear, the golden-armored man slid back step by step no matter how much he scrambled. “And if you lay a single damn hand on my wife, I’ll melt down your armor with you inside it.”

“Jason, no!” Dara cried, but then she was bring her magic up to fend off the soldiers who converged on her. “Stay away!”

“Like hell!” Jason hollered back, and discovered that this gold-plated buffoon couldn’t match his strength. Righteous anger, maybe. “Get out of here!”

“Not without you!”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Aur stared between them, stunned, and then a cruel light came to his eyes. “Kill the blacksmith!”

“No!” Dara screamed, and black clouds tumbled into being above her even as the wind picked up. The mud under foot turned thin and slick as the rain turned to a thunderous downpour. Jason tossed his head to get the water out of his eyes, and shoved Aur to the ground.

When he turned, it was to a dozen soldiers, clad in good armor, and armed.

“Stay away from my wife,” he spat, and braced himself. If he died here, he died here. Dara would have a chance to run. “She wasn’t hurting anyone!”

The soldiers didn’t listen.

Jason raised his board, but he already knew it wouldn’t be enough, as a heavy battle axe cleaved down towards him.

Black lightning cut a blinding path through the air, and suddenly the soldier was gone, and a melted puddle of armor and ashes remained.

“Get away from him.”

Dara stepped forward, her frantic fear replaced by something dark and raging. The rain seemed to cling to her slim form, and then Jason realized that her simple dress had turned to slick black silk. Lightning crackled around her like a pet and glittered like diamonds.

Her expression was one of pure murder.

The soldiers hesitated. One was foolish enough to raise his spear, and was gone in a blaze of lightning between one blink and the next.

The rest decided that retreat was less likely to get them killed.

Aur struggled out of the mud in time to see the last of his soldiers take off at a run, presumably to where their horses waited.

“I am the Hammer of the Sun!” He bellowed after them, and whirled on Jason with madness in his eyes. “You! We would have had her if not for you!”

“You’re not the Hammer of the Sun,” Jason wasn’t sure how he knew. Maybe it was Dara’s certainty that Jason WAS. “If you were, you could see that there’s no tyranny here. Just a wood-witch with a knack for charms. You would see that the only darkness is the kind you brought with you.”

“She is a demon!”

Jason might have punched him for that, but Dara’s hand landed on his arm and drew him back. Instead, she looked the golden man up and down.

“Perhaps you are wrong about both of us,” she said, barely loud enough to be heard above the pouring rain and the thunder that rolled overhead. “I am not a demon, and you are not the Hammer of the Sun. And you should not have tried to kill my husband.”

Every hair on Jason’s arms stood upright when the black lightning came again, this time so close he felt the heat of it on his face.

When he looked again, the golden king was gone, cooked in his own armor.

Dara stared at the remains, and Jason saw something deadly in her eyes.

Something that challenged her shaken control. The ghost of what she was, rising to fulfill a prophecy that would mean her death at his hands.

Instead, he cupped her face as if she was made of spiderweb and glass, and kissed her tenderly.

The thunder boomed once more, but it was half-hearted compared to moments before. The sky lightened, and so did the rain.

When Jason opened his eyes, it was to his wife’s fragile smile, and her fingers against his pulse-point.

“Down with the lightning for now?” He asked, and her fragile smile turned into fragile giggles, and he felt accomplished.

Maybe later he would be afraid. He might be angry that these people came to kill them on nothing but rumor.

Maybe not. You had to beat steel into shape before it became something useful, and a hammer was good for beating things.

“Miss Dara?”

It was Yenna. Pregnant Yenna, who liked Dara and her potions and didn’t have enough sense to stay back.

“I’m sorry they tried to hurt you,” Dara said in reply, and let Jason tuck her into his arms, possessively. If the townsfolk decided they were a problem, he would be between them and her when they did. “But that was a good shot, with the tomato.”

Yenna cracked a grin and held out a hand to them. “I thought so too,” she said cheerfully when Dara took it, and let Yenna tug her forward for a loose hug. “So, Lightning Witch?”

“Yes. I’m the twice-struck witch from the prophesy.”

“Everyone into the inn. We have talking to do! You don’t seem like the tyranny sort,” Yenna announced, and herded then towards the inn. A force to be reckoned with, the town mostly decided to follow her lead.

“I’m not,” Dara promised. She trampled in the cold, and from the exertion of her magic, and Jason was glad when they got inside.

“Well, that’s good. Because it seems to me we need a new king. What with this one getting melted and all.”

Jason tripped over a bench and barely caught himself before taking a fall.

Dara gave him a very concerned stare, and let Yenna press a mug of hot wine into her hands. Around them, the room buzzed as everyone got settled.

“Are you... are you suggesting I take the throne?” Dara asked tentatively, and huddled into Jason’s side when he sat beside her. “I don’t know how to rule.”

“So get some decent counselers,” Yenna waves her concern away like smoke. “You have the power, clear enough. And you can’t be worse than that guy, or the one before him. Remember how he trampled Turrin’s fields during that big hunting party, and never gave him so much as a bent penny for ruining a whole winter’s store?”

“Ye-es,” Jason said. That had been a bad winter, but they all banded together, and while it was lean, no one starved. “But ruling?”

“Can’t be harder than learning magic.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Dara was still hesitant, but Jason heard a note of curiosity there too. “The prophesy...”

“Says that the Sun will hold back your darkness.” Kellen, the village healer stepped forward out of the eavesdropping crowd and took a seat. He was old, and tired, and very wet. Jason trusted his counsel more than almost anyone else’s. “Anyone there today knows full well, you acted only to protect. You do that for the kingdom, and we’ll be well off.”

“Who were you before you were a healer?” Jason cocked a wry smile at him, and didn’t expect an answer. “That you know about ruling.”

“I was, and am, nobility,” Kellen said cheerful now that he had a mug of wine and a fire to warm up at. “A duke, in fact. And I think our Dara would do just fine. With some good hands to help.”

“I don’t want to be a queen!” Dara protested weakly. “I don’t know how I would even go about it! I’m common-born!”

“I’ll help,” Kellen promised. “I still have friends at court. And this young bastard was the latest rotten branch of a rotten tree. You did us all good by looping him off!”

“Alright,” Jason added his voice to their group, but mostly his words were for his wife. “You think we can do this? Let’s plan it out and see where the weak welds are. Yenna, do you have a private room left for us? This will take time, and wine.”