A silver moon reflected off the water, illuminating the way south. Adan and Kian refused to stop for the night, pushing through the fading light of evening, and blindly riding the currents in the dark, before the waning moon finally rose above the trees.

They passed through wooded hills and that stretched out like arms from the mountains behind them. Small cliffs and rock faces loomed over the river on both sides, casting black shadows in the pale light.

By morning, they had left the foothills behind and come out into the flat lands, where the river was wider and flowed more slowly. Adan wanted to row more aggressively in the steady flow, but his exhaustion soon caught up with him. They had passed two nights without sleep now, and he soon found himself unable to lift his oar, no matter how much he ate or drank.

“We’ll take shifts sleeping and rowing,” Kian said. “Four hours. I’ll take the first. I’m not as tired as you look.”

Adan didn’t protest, even though he normally would. Kian had remained uncharacteristically silent through the night, but Adan could see an urgency in his eyes that never faded.

Adan set the oar down and sat down on the floor of the boat, leaning his head back against the seat. He was asleep almost instantly.

Kian shook him awake four hours later, and they switched places.

They alternated until they had each slept for eight hours and the sun had sunk behind the horizon.

Three more abandoned villages had slowly passed them by on the banks of the Red River, like silent ghosts in the darkness.

“We’re beginning to reach the outer farmlands,” Kian said. “I suspect we’ll be home by morning.”

The night was cool, and a mist had risen over their watery road. Adan had found new strength, partly thanks to his rest during the day, but also because he knew they were almost home.

Kian squirmed in his chair and he pumped his arms, rowing steadily through the fog.

The thick shroud of mist surrounded them and blinded them. Thankfully they knew there would be no rapids or falls ahead of them, and as long as they stayed alert, they could simply follow the river to their destination.

Adan had never known a longer night. With no moon to gauge the time, the hours seemed to drag slowly by, slower than the steady flow of the river they rode.

Adan spent the night praying to the Creator that they would arrive in time, that they would not arrive to find Hugo attacking, or worse.

He longed to smell the familiar salty breeze from the ocean that meant they had reached the coast.

Before the light of morning first began to burn through the mist, they did smell something.

Kian noticed it first and sat up straight, sniffing the air.

“What is it?” Adan asked. Then he smelled it too.

Kian looked back at Adan, and Adan saw the dread in his eyes.

Smoke.

Not the clean, warm smell of wood burning in hearth fires, but the strong, dark odor of something melting and sending black columns into the sky.

Adan and Kian began to row faster, pulling themselves forward as fast as their little craft could move. The smell grew stronger as they did.

Adan’s eyes and throat began to burn.

As the light increased around them, something small and white fluttered down into the water next to them, like a snowflake. Then another, fell on the other side of the boat. Then another landed on Adan’s lap. He stopped rowing and touched it with his hands and it broke into several flakes.

Fear gripped Adan’s stomach.

Ash.

Ash was raining down on them. Soon, they were rowing through a steady flurry fall of the burnt remnants.

Adan began to wonder how much of the fog was mist from the river, and how much was smoke and raining ash. He strained to hear anything ahead of them, but only the splash of their paddles met his ears.

There were no shouts, no cries, and no sounds of battle or combat.

Adan and Kian continued downriver as ash coated them and their boat in a fine layer of gray soot. The pale morning light emanated through the fog and smoke as the sun began to rise.

”Do you know how close we are?” Adan whispered.

He saw Kian shake his head. “We must be close. We’ll see the docks and piers soon.”

Adan expected to smell the salty breeze of the sea, but his nose sensed nothing past the smoke hanging in the air.

“We should make our way to the eastern bank so we don’t miss anything.”

Kian nodded and they paddled on the right side of the boat to turn sharply left.

“The wind is picking up,” Kian whispered.

Adan felt the shift in the air as a light breeze pushed at their backs. The smoke and mist began to move, pushed aside by the new wind.

”There!” Adan pointed ahead of them.

A large dock became visible through the mist and fumes. The wind pickup, gusting faster and blowing the noxious air away. Several docks became visible as the eastern bank was revealed. Adan could see the morning sun rising like a round pale lantern through the shroud ahead of them. The gusting wind continued to blow the fog and smoke away, like an invisible hand pulling a curtain back.

As the veil of mist and fumes was pulled away, Adan and Kian stopped rowing. The oars fell from their hands and their mouths fell open.

Beyond the docks, the wind uncovered the banks of the Red River. What used to be huts and houses were now nothing but charred remains, blackened husks of what used to be homes.

But the burnt homes weren’t what caused them to stare.

The shroud was pushed back further to reveal the city of Farel, their home, or at least, where it used to be.

In years past, Adan would look to the eastern bank from a ship or boat and see the three walled city, with its gate facing the water, rising high above the tops of the surrounding trees.

Now, the vanishing smoke revealed a vanished city. An empty crater, black, and smoldering, covered the earth where Adan’s home used to be. Adan could not see a single stone or brick left of the walls or buildings that used to house him.

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“We’re… we’re too late?” Kian whispered.

Adan couldn’t speak. He felt as if he was falling into a bottomless pit.

I’m dreaming, he thought. I fell asleep in the boat and now I’m dreaming.

But Adan knew he wasn’t. He could feel the grit from the gray ash between his fingers as he clenched his fists, and he knew that what he saw was real. He remembered this feeling from when his father died.

Lord Hathian, his wife and Kian’s mother Alayna, master Grimmel, Vallessa, her family…

Did anyone survive? The hopeful thought appeared in his head for a brief instant before being shot down immediately. How could anyone survive that?

But what had happened? What kind of fire could destroy walls of stone and buildings that had stood for generations? What kind of weaponry could level a city, leaving nothing but a smoking crater behind?

Childhood memories flashed through his head: Living above the stables with his father, playing with Layla and Kian, visiting his father’s grave, training with master Grimmel after his father died, feasting in the great hall with the other young men.

These places were part of him. These places were sacred.

The place he had lived as a child, the training field, the great hall, and the place where his father was buried in the city…

Gone.

Kian stood up in the boat in front of Adan. Adan could only see his friend’s back as he stared at what used to be his home.

A cry fell from his lips, a quiet, strangled sob that ripped at Adan’s heart. Kian’s hands flew up to his head as he pulled his dark hair.

He’s lost everything, Adan thought. Everything and everyone.

Kian fell to his knees in the boat, his cry subsiding into an anguished growl.

“How…” Adan said. “How did they do this?”

A shout drew Adan’s attention to their right. He looked downriver and nearly fell over.

Hugo’s fleet sat anchored nearby. The closest ships were no more than two hundred paces away.

Adan jumped to his feet.

Several warriors with spiked helmets and covered faces stood along the rails of the nearest ships, pointing at Kian and Adan’s boat and waving frantically.

“They’ve seen us,” Adan said. He reached into the river and grabbed the oar he had dropped.

Kian turned to face the ships that sat docked by the remains of his home. Adan saw no tears on his soot covered face. Kian’s jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed as he glared at the enemy ships.

”Kian, we need to go,” Adan said, reaching for Kian’s oar and holding it out to Kian.

“You’re right,” Kian said in a low voice. “We do.”

He grabbed the oar from Adan and pointed at the enemy ships. ”We need to go and avenge our people!”

”No! Kian—“ Adan began, but he was cut off as Kian raised his voice and shouted across the river.

“You filthy bastards! You unholy, murderous, barbarians!”

His voice carried across the water and the men on the ships stood still as he ranted.

“I am Kian, son of Lord Hathian, Lord of Farel! You have destroyed my home and desecrated our land with your very presence! I swear, by all that is good in this world, by the strength that is left in my body, by the names of those you have murdered, by the creator, the maker and author who gives to all men according to their works, I will slay any servant of Sithril who dares to cross my path!”

As he cursed them, several of the warriors began shouting to one another and gesturing. Adan saw a collection of small boats full of warriors begin rowing in their direction.

“Kian, we need to leave now!” Adan shouted.

“Anyone who wears a bloody mask and spiked helmet, I swear I will spill every ounce of their blood until this river earns its name: The Red River!”

Now the tears were flowing from Kian’s eyes, leaving pale streaks on his cheeks.

”Kian!” Adan stepped forward and grabbed Kian’s shoulder. ”We need to go!”

“Why?” Kian turned and faced Adan, shouting in his face. “Why go?! And where would we go?! We can’t warn the other cities before Hugo reaches them! We can’t go home! We failed Adan. We failed! We may as well have died in Undelma.”

”We’re too exposed here,” Adan spoke quickly. “We need to get to another place that is more defensible.”

”What’s the point? They’ll find us anyway. I don’t want to die hunted down like a rabbit. I want to die like a man! Like Rocco did!”

“I can’t lose you too!” Adan shouted.

He knew they might be caught. He knew there was little point in running. Hugo would reach Allgor and Threcalax before he and Kian could arrive at either place. Who knew if they could withstand whatever strength Hugo had at his disposal? If Hugo could level Farel in less than a day, he could certainly take the other cities.

Adan knew it might be hopeless. But he also knew one other thing: He was Kian’s bodyguard and friend, and he would do anything to protect him, no matter the cost.

“I can’t lose you too,” Adan whispered. “I’ve lost everyone, just like you have. We’re all that’s left. We need to get away while we can and find a better way to hurt them. We won’t be able to do much damage here.”

Kian looked at the boats that were drawing closer.

“You want to die like Rocco?” Adan begged. “Remember how many of them he managed to kill? We can’t do that here. Let’s be smart, like him. Let’s get away and find some way to do what he did.”

Adan saw the battle of emotions in Kian’s face.

An arrow struck the boat.

Adan looked back at the boats to see several warriors with bows preparing to shoot.

“Kian!”

“Alright!” Kian replied, sitting back down and pulling on his oar. “To the riverbank.”

With deft strokes, they turned their boat and made for the shore. Several more arrows fell around them, slicing through the water or striking the wood of the boat.

When they reached a raft dock floating next to a pier, they leapt from the boat, climbed a small ladder onto the pier and raced for the shore. Adan’s muscles rebelled at the excursion after sitting in the boat for so long, but he ignored the stiffness in his joints.

Adan ran east, away from the river and the smoldering crater. The mist was still rolling away, revealing more burned homes and farmlands beyond. A large forest lay beyond the farmlands. Adan and Kian had explored and hunted under the boughs of those trees many times in the past.

Adan could hear clomp of boots on wood as their pursuers reached the docks and ran onto the riverbank.

“Where were you planning to go?” Kian asked.

“East, for a start,” Adan said. “I was hoping we could reach the forest and lose them.”

They turned toward the empty fields, dotted with burning houses, and sprinted toward the treeline in the distance.

After several moments of running, Adan’s lungs were burning, and his legs began to feel like jelly. The forest was still several hundred paces away, and it felt like they were crawling slowly across the fields.

By the time we reach the forest, he thought, we won’t have any strength left.

A shout to their right drew his attention.

Four warriors on horseback appeared ahead and to the right from behind a burning barn. They urged their steeds forward, making to cut Adan and Kian off.

“There’s our means of escape!” Kian shouted from behind Adan. He heard a metallic ring as Kian drew his sword.

Adan nodded and drew his as well.

The warriors on horseback rode straight for the two of them, scimitars in hand and red robes flapping behind them.

The first warrior reached Adan and swung for his head. Adan ducked under the blow and slashed at the horse’s legs as it passed him. The animal shrieked and fell to the earth with a crash. The warrior fell off and rolled to his feet, but Kian ran up to him with a battle cry on his lips and slashed the warriors head clean off.

Adan turned to the second warrior who leaned out of the saddle to strike lower. Adan dropped his sword and grabbed the man by his outstretched arm.

The force of their impact knocked Adan backwards but it also tore the warrior from his saddle. Adan twisted as they fell and landed on top of the warrior, quickly wresting the sword out of his hand.

He could hear hoofbeast behind him as the third warrior approached, but Kian ran to meet the third horseman with a shout.

Adan jumped to his feet and stabbed the man underneath him before turning to see Kian swiping the third horse’s feet out from underneath it. The third warrior flew from the saddle and crashed to the ground head first. He didn’t rise again.

Adan and Kian easily dispatched the last warrior, dragging him from his horse and stabbing him.

The troop of warriors pursuing them from behind were less than a hundred paces away. Arrows began slicing the air around them again, but the hurried shots were ill aimed and missed them.

Kian grabbed the reins of the last horse, while Adan ran to the other animal that was still standing. They both swung into the leather saddles and turned the horses away from their pursuers.

Then, digging their heels into the flanks for their new steeds, they charged across the fields, disappearing into the shadows of the forest.