The note read simply:

‘I have finally located the relic. Tell your leader to launch the attack after the morning bell a day from now. I will be ready.’

I need to get back. Clutching the note, he stamped down his desire to follow the rabbit and raced back to the village.

He ran as fast as he could, caring little for any beasts that might chance upon him. Wanting only to get back to the others before it was too late.

The smell of smoke started to filter over the closer he got to the edge of the forest.

No no no. Reaching the end of the forest, he dropped to his knees, sweating and heaving for breath as he looked out at the burning ruins of his village.

There were no sounds of children laughing, nor of adults going about their day. He had come too late to even here the final sounds of battle. All he could hear was the remnant fire lapping at the houses.

No. I can’t be late. Someone must be here. Reaching the southern gate, he found John’s body slumped over on a chair, a wound left over on his back from when a sword was run through his heart while he slept.

Another guard was on the ground not too far away, a look of surprise etched on his face as he stared out into space. Another wound was left on his chest.

A surprise attack. Furious, he took a deep breath and continued into the village. He searched the ruined buildings one by one for survivors. Unfortunately, all he found were ransacked buildings devoid of any valuables, and corpses.

Reaching Uther’s hut, he found that they had taken everything that hadn’t been nailed down, but he didn’t find Uther’s body. He wouldn’t have let this happen. He has to be somewhere else... Yeah, yeah. He must be chasing after them. That must be it. Now where would he be?

Everything was starting to weigh on him, but he assured himself that Uther was out there somewhere. The east gate. He must be fighting over there.

Racing off to the east gate, he passed through the marketplace, where he found the ground littered in corpses. His eyes reddened as he rushed past everyone. It must be the smoke. That’s why my eyes are stinging.

Reaching the east gate, he found the familiar figure of Arthur leaning up against a table, his prosthetic leg shattered and a long, bloody gash going across his chest.

Lucien knelt down beside Arthur and pressed his forehead against his. This time, he let the tears fall freely. Sleep well old friend. It’s time to rest, may Matron Stellara watch over you forever. He closed Arthur’s eyes before heading out to the small grassy field beyond the gate.

He walked past the fallen bodies of the other guards, noticing some unfamiliar faces in ragtag gear among them. Heading further out, he found a large circle filled with more unfamiliar corpses. And in the centre of that circle was Uther. Lying there. A familiar sword stabbed through his back.

Stunned, he reached out to Uther. No. He shook Uther’s body, trying to wake him. No. There’s no way he’s dead.

Lucien was stunned. He couldn’t possibly imagine Uther dying, let alone to a bunch of bandits.

Examining the sword, he realised with utmost fury that it was a standard sword used by the town guard, and not one of the weapons belonging to the bandits. Adam.

A scene played out in his mind, of Uther fighting valiantly against the invading bandits, only to get stabbed in the back by Adam.

It took a long time for Lucien to calm down. In his fury, he pulled the sword out of Uther’s chest and smashed it into the ground repeatedly until the blade snapped.

Uther was like a father to him, having taken care of him when his father passed away. Uther taught him everything he knew about fighting and protecting the village. Uther made him into the man he was today.

Uther’s death weighed heavily on his soul. He closed Uther’s eyes and continued to search the village in hopes of finding someone who survived. His search however, was fruitless.

Arriving at the foot of the schoolhouse, he almost couldn’t bear to go in. Please. Please, let the children be safe. He didn’t have much hope, but seeing that the schoolhouse hadn’t been burnt down led him to believe that there was a slither of a chance that it was left alone.

His heart sunk when he stepped into the main room and found one of the teachers dead at his feet.

The schoolhouse was primarily just one giant classroom, with a small storage closet attached to the side. The desks were spread around the room in groups of varying sizes, where the students would sit in their age groups.

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The teachers would each be responsible for a different subject, and would move to the students when it was their turn to teach them.

Lucien shuddered and looked away.

Children were scattered across the room. Some had died in their seats. Others, cowering up at the end of the room. The teachers were all in a group together right behind the first dead teacher. They died trying to defend the children.

The kills were brutal and vicious, showing no mercy, even for the children.

Lucien’s nails dug into his palms as his body heaved with each, shaky breath. I’ll make them pay. I’ll kill every one of them.

He took the time to coddle each of the dead children, wiping the tears from their faces and closed their eyes. He knew each and every one of them. He grew up with their parents. Laughed and fought alongside them. Worried about the future of their kids with them.

He had even babysat some of their parents when he was a teenager.

He had seen the children laugh and play. And now he would never see that again.

He burned this scene into his mind, not allowing himself to ever forget it. He had failed. He had failed to protect all of them. This was something he would bear for the rest of his life. The only solace he had was that he couldn’t find Jack, Delilah, and Roddy among the kids.

“I’ll be back soon.” He said to himself, closing the door behind him to stop any animals from getting to the bodies.

His mind was filled with regret. Regret that he couldn’t move faster. That he left at all. Regret that he didn’t kill Adam the hundreds of times he had the chance. Wandering aimlessly through the streets, he found himself outside of his sister’s house.

Pressing his hand on the door, he forced down the feeling in his gut that was telling him to not go in. I have to do this. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled and pushed open the door.

“Brie?” He called out, his loud voice carrying across the small house, only to be met with silence. No. He wouldn’t have, would he? He felt nauseous. Afraid of what he would see if he was to go any further. But at the same time, something deep within him was telling him that he had to look.

No matter what he found, he had to look, even if it meant that he had to send his younger sister into the waiting arms of Matron Stellara.

Summoning up the courage, he walked into the kitchen. Then the bedroom. Then Roddy’s room. And even the backyard and the outhouse.

Did he take her? He must have. There’s no way she would’ve willingly gone with him after all this. Where could he have taken her? And what about Roddy.

His mind whirled, as it spun through every possibility, ranging from hopeful to despairing. Is she already out of the village? Is she hidden somewhere... Did I miss her? He dreaded the possibility that he had missed her among the crowd of bodies in the market. Maybe I should check there?

Leaving her house, he took the shortest path back to the market, just so happening to go past his own house. He refused to look. He refused to even go near it. He knew he could not handle it.

Without stopping, he returned to the marketplace, and carefully checked each and every person that had even a remote possibility of being his sister or his nephew. He closed the eyes of many friends.

There were so many people. Memories flooded his mind. Memories of elders who took care of him when Uther was away. Of times he would sneak away to fool around with the girls his age. Those girls became women, and lived their own lives that led them to this point.

Finishing his search, he still couldn’t find them. Refusing to give up, he searched every building for them. Hours passed as his search became desperate. Dark clouds formed over head, washing out the fire.

Having searched every building, he had exhausted all of his options. All of them but one. He finally came to a stop in front of his own house.

He froze up. His body refused to move. He couldn’t even get close to the door, let alone open it. He had been putting this off from the very beginning. From when he first saw the fire off in the distance, or maybe even before that when he found that note, he knew deep down in his heart that his family wouldn’t be able to make it.

He didn’t want to check. Hoping that by some miracle that despite everyone else being dead, that they would be alive and healthy. The thought of finding them just like he did the others was more than he could bear.

A storm raged in his heart and mind. His body jutting closer to the door then stepping away, like a broken marionette. Forced to repeat the same ridiculous cycle forever.

Eventually, he stopped.

I have to. For them.

Dread engulfed his very being as he finally found the strength to push open the door. His vision clouded as his mind wandered off into a haze. His body felt numb. The only thing he could feel was his heart shattering into millions of tiny pieces.

Just enough light seeped in from the damaged ceiling to allow him to see what had happened inside. And what he saw would follow him for the rest of his life.

There were four people in the room; Cordelia, Gabriella, Jack, and Delilah. Their bodies told a story of tragedy.

Delilah was shielded behind her older brother. She died with her eyes closed and her head buried into his back, unaware of the brutality that was happening in the room with her.

Jack had died protecting his sister. His eyes were open and his cheeks were stained by tears. His vision forever stuck on the sight of his mother. Countless bloody gashes littered his body until it gave out. But in that time he did everything he could to protect his little sister.

Unfortunately it was futile. For none of them were destined to leave this room alive.

Lucien’s spare sword had been rammed through Jack’s heart, piercing through Delilah. Whether it was the thing that killed him, or if it was just an added bit of cruelty to an already nightmarish scenario, Lucien could not know.

Delia and Brie were left desperately reaching for them, Wishing to take the punishment for them. Instead, they were forced to watch as the children were brought to their last breath.

Their minds were ruthlessly ripped apart by despair, their bodies left behind as soulless husks for the bandits to brutalise as they wished. Their clothes were viciously torn to shreds, no longer able to protect their modesty. Bruises and cuts littered their bodies, but death did not come for them quickly.

The bandits did not want that.