Not one building is left standing. All around where homes once stood is no more, but pits of ash. Some of what’s left of the cabins are still burning. Some are partly standing structures. I looked up at my uncle Garth, and seen his face was just as devastated as mine.

“Let’s scavenge around for anything useful and leave.” Garth said as he starting walking into the ruins of the village. Without a word, I started walking over to the west side of the small village. If there’s anything useful left, it could be buried under the rubble of the homes.

I stepped into the ashes of what once a home and started kicking around. The thought of me stepping on bits of human remains sickens me. I may be wrong, but this could be what’s left of my neighbor Pella and her husband, Pasker’s house I’m walking through right now.

“I found a canteen!” Garth shouted. “Feels full to the brim too!” He added. I looked over at him and seen him standing next to the smoking brush pile in the center of what’s left of the village. The same pile where Tobie was thrown into. “One of the soldiers must of left it here. What about you?” he asked.

“Nothing yet!” I shouted back as I stepped out of the ashes. I don’t know what more is left behind around here. I’m practically just walking through what is now an opening in a forest. An empty space with almost nothing left. Looking around, the whole village seems smaller now that everything is practically gone.

I walked through another big pile of half burned wood and ash. I swift my foot around and suddenly I hit something hard. It almost feels like metal. I bend over and reach my hand down into the warm gray powdery residue. Gentilly I pull out the head of an old pickaxe. It’s really warm, but not hot. I clasp both of my hands around each end trying to absorb its warmth. It feels so nice, but I know this won't last.

I continued walking to where my home once stood. Some walls of the homes still stand. A few windows attached with broken glass, and fires still burning. Even Cleon’s little smokehouse is destroyed. I walk over to the little broken down hut and kicked the wood around. Suddenly my eyes widen as I discover some venison stringed up to a broken piece of wood. I drop the metal head of the pickaxe and quickly untied the string from the wood.

“Did you find something?” Garth asked.

“Venison! I’m not sure how good it is, but it’s from Cleon’s deer!” I shouted. Suddenly I heard Garth running up from behind. He dropped down by my side and started picking wood up from the smokehouse and throwing it aside. I watched as he moved the very last piece hoping to find more. Garth breathed out in frustration and shook his head.

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“Those damn soldiers must of taken the rest.” He grumbled. Garth then stood up and looked around at what’s left of our home. “Well… At least we found a decent cut.” Garth said as he stood up. “We got ourselves food and water. That’s good enough. If we start walking now, we should be able to reach Edinburgh by sundown.” I looked up at my uncle and seen his blue eyes gazing across the burning terrain with pain.

“Yeah. Let’s get going.” I said grabbing the venison. With my other hand, I grabbed the pickaxe head with a full grasp. With a surprise, I couldn’t feel any heat left. The frozen ground drained it away.

“What do you have there?” Garth asked.

“Just a part of a pickaxe. It was really warm when I found it. So, I used it to warm my hands. It’s useless now though.” I said throwing it aside. I then stood up and look over from where the Vaesite soldiers came in and left. “You think it’s an easy walk to Edinburgh?” I asked.

“If we follow their beat down tracks, it shouldn’t be too hard. I believe there’s already enough distance between us and the soldiers, but if we do catch up. We should fall back for a while.” Garth said as he began walking.

I started to follow my uncle through what’s left of our home village. It’s so strange that this place is quiet. Each day would be lively with the sound of wood being chopped, children playing, and people talking with one another.

“Hey Emerencia. I don’t know how I can really say this, and I know there really isn’t anything happy about it, but happy birthday.” He said looking back at me with what I could tell is a weak, but genuine smile. Even through all this, he can still show me a slight smile.

“Thank you.” I muttered.

As we begin to leave the village, I took one look back. I was hoping to look back today with everything still standing, neighbors waving, and my parents hugging and kissing me goodbye. Instead there’s nobody. Nothing. I can suddenly feel a tear begin to roll down the right side of my cheek. I thought I cried every tear out last night, but I guess I’m wrong.

Garth looked back at me and slowed his pace to where he was walking by my side.

“Have you unsheathed your sword yet?” He asked. I looked down at the weapon at my side and shook my head.

“With everything that happened, I never really got my full focus on it just yet.”

“Well why don’t you pull it out.” He insisted. I reached my hand up to the grip of the sword and slowly unsheathed it. I then widen my eyes in disbelief as I began to see more and more of the blade. Not only was the pommel, grip, and cross-guard black, but the blade too was black. Pitch black and yet it had a shine any new blade would have. Inscribed on the fuller in silvery words was “Till The Last One Bleeds” -Garth Drason. He even put a quote in it. A quote I never heard before.

“Garth this amazing! How did you even make the blade black?”

“This is a blacksmiths secret.” He replied. I kept looking at him as we kept walking, expecting for him to tell me. Instead his head kept facing forward.

“So, what’s the secret?” I promptly asked.

“I’m not gonna tell you.”

“Why not? I’ve been helping you with your forge since I was little!” I protested.

“Because when I or we get a new forge, I’ll do you something better. I’ll teach you.” Suddenly I feel silent. Of course he would teach me. He always teaches me. I held my sword up and studied the blade that was dark as night. With the morning sun shining down on it, the glistening black blade look far more beautiful than it is. It’s so nice, I don’t even wanna swing it around and dull the edges. I looked at the quote written across the fuller.

“Garth what does your quote mean? Who is the the last one?” I asked. Garth shrugged his shoulders.

“That’s up to you to decide. Yet of course it’s up the every swordsmen to decide too.”