Foul, winged beasts like oversized bats crossed with monkeys swarmed the Pavilion. Their sharpened claws sliced through the fabric of the tents and rent large gashes in the scenery. People screamed and scattered in all directions as the Festival devolved into mass hysteria.

The elven greeter I'd seen only a few moments earlier no longer stood at her post. She lifted her arms high, chanting an invocation, as she tried to protect the Pavilion. She dug in her feet, spread her arms wider, but the glowing orb didn't grow. Her face fell into a slack mixture of exhaustion, fear, and shame. She couldn't do it.

In the midst of the madness, another caster joined her, linking their arms and shouting their wishes to the sky. Slowly, but surely, the orb of protection grew. It expanded over the main Pavilion and a few of the adjoining tents. In addition, it covered the large installation from the Society. The Reavers railed against the shield, but bounced back as if burned. The Force Shield would keep them out for now, but from what little I knew of magic, it wouldn't last for long at this rate.

I froze, unable to move. In the moment, my mind flooded with only emotion. Only memory. A time long ago, that I hoped I'd long forgotten.

A scared girl in the corner. Leathery wings like bats. Claws and screaming and blood. So much blood.

I should have been excited. In all the chaos, no one would notice one human slipping into the Society and making off with one of the last Crystals. They had much more pressing things to worry about. Like being eaten alive.

I stood at a juncture point, torn between two halves of my life I thought I'd never integrate again. In front of me lay the road to riches, fame, immortality...

But behind me lay a much more grisly scene. The protective enchantment wouldn't last long, and if they didn't evacuate the revelers in time, people would die. Lots of them.

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It didn't make sense at all. World Events were supposed to be peaceful. It wasn't just an expectation, it was a rule. It went down in all the lore books and everything. People didn't bother to bring their armor and weapons; it was a formal gala, not a gladiator duel. Whatever had happened here, something was very wrong. And the Reavers had uncovered the one place where they could find many of the most powerful players at their most vulnerable. It would be a bloodbath.

Just then, a fleeing festival-goer plowed into the caster holding the Force Shield aloft. He wheezed as the air rushed out of him and lost his concentration, breaking the spell. He tumbled to the ground with a thud and the sphere of protection weakened. It creaked and cracked like grass as the Reavers battered against it, and then shattered with a resounding crash.

The remaining caster ducked as the rebound of the spell hit her. The other man rubbed his head and got up wearily, eyes wide with fear as he saw it was too late. Reavers poured through the breach in the shield like water through a sieve, screeching and clawing their way toward the commoners. People shrieked and tripped over one another, all heading for the teleportation points set up by the Society for easy Festival access. There was the problem, though. Those points weren't set up to take massive crowds of panicked travelers all at once. Teleportation was still a tricky magic to get right, and overloading the system could cause it to fail altogether. And then what? I didn't want to be around to find out.

My vision of the terrifying scene was blurred out by the alarm that flickered in my vision.

WARNING: Reavers have infiltrated the Pavilion! All festival-goers evacuate IMMEDIATELY! This is not a drill. This is not a drill!

I glanced at the door again and peered through the window. I could see the Crystal, right there. It was so close. Everything I wanted, everything I worked for, was so close. All I had to do was take it. All I had to do was keep my focus. All I had to do...was let those people die. Let the children be orphaned. Let mothers lose their babies.

And I couldn't let that happen again.

I grit my teeth, let go of the door handle, and took off at a sprint toward the action. No one else should have to die to those bastards. Not while I had something to say about it.