Clouds speckled the midday sky.

The wind was howling through the trees and the banners of the harbor. High waves washed against the southern coast, the water turquoise and transparent.

Fishing vessels, pleasure boats, and treasure haulers aligned the sandy shore of Locria. Dockworkers crowded the wooden boards and gangplanks, carrying cargo and riches.

The gold and jewels of the port basked in the orange sun. The exotic goods brought in from the coast spread throughout the continent of Palladium from sturdy wagons and paid guards. The shops were plentiful and the people were in paradise.

Although not a kingdom, the county of Locria sustained itself from the riches of faraway lands, abundant seas, and flowering fields. It had its own military that guarded the port, but it was minuscule compared to the size of the catastrophe that awaited.

Their hands were full and their feet heavy. The village behind them lay in wait with wood walls and matching shingles. The hills crested upward as the two young men headed north toward the inner city.

“Why couldn’t you let your mom get someone else to retrieve this shit?” the man said, wheezing at the top of the hill.

“Hey, I wanted to do this! I just didn’t think it was going to be this much!” the other said, carrying multiple smaller crates stacked in his arms. “I can only be cooped up in that manor for so long!” he added.

“Well hurry it up, Ryder. I want to make it in time for lunch!”

“Of course, that’s the only thing on your mind, Durge!” Ryder exclaimed. “Can you see the city yet, you oaf?”

“Not yet. We’ll see it at a clearing once we go through the ‘field’ you’ve been yammering about,” the oaf said.

As the two marched to the top of the hill with exhausted breath, a thick covering of copperwood trees, underbrush, and vines awaited them.

Durge looked at Ryder with full arms and a scowled expression. Ryder was peering through the woods and gazing from side to side.

“We should’ve gotten a horse and wagon and just have stayed on the road—”

“You fucking asshole,” Durge muttered, shaking his head and stepping into the forest.

“I thought it would be easier!”

With high knees and careful balancing, they stepped through the forest. The sun’s rays shimmered through the wind-battered leaves.

The metal inside the crates clanged when Durge set them down. He pulled the waterskin from his side and chugged until the water spilled from his lips. He wiped his mouth and the sweat from his brow and glared at Ryder that stopped and did the same.

“I’m going to feast and fill myself to the brim when we get back. I don’t care what those cooks will be serving. I’m going to eat, drink, and then wash in that glass washtub of yours,” Durge said, dropping his pack and retrieving a fruit.

“What!? Are you going to sleep in my bed too? Go wash in your trough back home.”

Pointing with the fruit, “You will not deny me. I will be properly rewarded for all the shit that you bring me into,” Durge said.

“The only reward you’ll be getting is the ability to fill your mouth and fill your pockets with all the fruit in the manor.”

“I’m glad Lady Locria is running the place and not her posh cunt of a son,” Durge laughed.

After taking a break and refreshing themselves, they picked up the crates again with weary arms and trampled out of the forest. The sun was still high and the gusts of wind were still plentiful.

The salt of the sea became nearer and they could see the harbor from the clearing on top of the green hill.

Durge was the first to see. His brown eyes went wide and his tan arms went loose, silverware spilled out of the wooden crates when they fell upon the ground. A second pair of boxes dropped when Ryder appeared behind Durge.

Past the manor, the city, and the crowded harbor, hundreds of ships filled the bay. Black sails and maroon flags waved from the masts of the brown vessels.

The two young men rushed down the hill, tripping and tumbling their way to the manor. Reaching the city, the chaos could be heard. Screams from the people and shouts from the guards filled the air. Wagons were loaded, horses whipped, and dust flew.

Men of all species came to arms with tools or swords in hand. The ships were fast approaching. A mass of shadows could be seen on the decks, holding steel that reflected the sun. Ryder and Durge flew up the marbled manor steps, past the white statues, and pushed past the metal-braced door.

The interior was dark and their eyes had to adjust before they could see the massacre. Ryder and Durge were frozen at the sight of the three corpses that lay in the foyer. Two of them wore cobalt blue tunics and metal cuirasses - the personal guards of the manor. They were both slashed in the neck. The other body wore a mint green gown and a sapphire necklace - the Countess Locria. A deep puncture donned her stomach.

Durge became frantic as Ryder became inert. Durge looked back outside to see a mass of fire blazing within the town. The screams and panic muffled when he shut and barred the manor’s doors. Ryder dropped to his knees when he peered over her. Her eyes were open as her hands lay against her abdomen. Ryder shut her eyes and lifted her hand to his cheek, the hand now wet with tears and blood.

Durge went deeper into the manor, bodies of maids and cooks littered the halls and rooms. When entering the kitchen, Durge saw another cook face down on the bloodied tile floor. Durge stepped over the corpse, swung his pack onto the kitchen counter, and started stuffing it with any supplies that were out in the open. Looking out of the kitchen windows, he saw the ships docked at the harbor and the citizens being slaughtered. The bright day was now choked by smoke and all was turned a red haze when the fires spread.

Ryder was still kneeling over his mother’s body. He took off her sapphire necklace and stroked her hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. He repeatedly said his apologies while his tears and mucus drenched his shirt. Ryder stopped when shadows passed by the veiled windows. He looked down at her and closed his eyes. “Let me join her,” he whispered.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Durge was filling his waterskin in the kitchen basin when he heard pounding at the door. He quickly stepped over the body again and ran to Ryder.

“Get up, Rye!” he tried grabbing him but Ryder shook him off.

“I can’t,” he gazed back at her body.

More pounding was on the door, the wood scraping against the ground and the hinges bending inward.

“You lift your ass right now, I remember you telling me about some tunnel!” he knelt and looked Ryder in the eyes. “If you don’t show me where it is, I will die just like her!”

Ryder’s mouth quivered as he looked back at the door.

Durge sat up, yanked Ryder’s arm, and shoved him down the hall.

“There’s more bodies. Just keep walking and don’t look at them.”

Ryder eventually led Durge to a back storeroom. Bags and barrels of salt and spice lay strewed in the musty room.

Ryder pointed at a rotten shelf before turning away, “Behind there.”

Durge rapidly threw down the shelf that unveiled a rusted grate at waist height. After kicking the grate open, the battering of the front door echoed through the manor. Durge shoved Ryder down the passage and then crawled in himself.

The tunnel was narrow and short, and the ground was slippery. Stone surrounded the two while they ventured deeper into the old passage. The only light was from the drains above that revealed the gray sky. Ryder was leading the way, occasionally sobbing in his tracks before being nudged by Durge.

The sounds of broken bones and sliced flesh from above drowned the short rests and soft whimpers below. A trickle of maroon liquid flowed from a grate above, dripping on the two below.

After an hour of walking through the musty tunnel, Ryder stopped in his tracks.

“Can we wait here for a little while, Durge?” he sniffled.

“Why?”

“It’s—” he wiped his nose with his shirt. “We’re close to the exit and they’ll see you in the daylight.”

“Alright, Rye.” Durge sat down in the narrow hall.

The area where they settled was quiet above, but the crackling of burning wood and roaring ash never ceased.

Durge set his bag on top of his lap.

“You want to see what I got in my bag?”

Ryder looked back with a curious expression, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“You’ll never believe it,” Durge smirked.

Durge reached into his backpack and returned with a closed fist.

Ryder squinted.

Durge opened his fist to reveal three small citrusy fruits.

Ryder let out a small laugh, “You did fill your pockets with fruit.”

Durge tossed one of them to Ryder. He also raised a cloth-wrapped object from his bag. “Aaand bread.”

It was late in the afternoon when the horns sounded. Ryder and Durge were resting on the stone before a thunderous wave of footsteps came overhead and slowly vanished.

“By the Abyss! What was that?” Durge exclaimed.

“It was them… I think. It sounded like they were heading west.”

“Back to their ships?”

Ryder gazed at the grate above them, “I think so. But why?”

“Those pirate bastards probably went back to their Farigath Islands!”

Ryder pondered for a moment, “I don’t think they were pirates… maybe the Emperor drove them off? Ryder asked.

Durge scoffed, “Damn Pallingratz! He’s too busy conquering the Giants in the north to help us in any way.”

“He could’ve sent a detachment,” Ryder said.

“Bullshit! Remember the stories we heard about the pirate raids before!? He didn’t help us then, and he wouldn’t have helped us now.”

Ryder hastily got up and shook his head before marching down the tunnel.

“I’m sure they’re gone now anyway, Durge. Just like everyone else up there.”

“Dammit, Ryder.” Durge put on his backpack before chasing after him.

The tunnels were dark in the evening. The smell of smoke and the sound of fire were still present, but the land above was void of any creature. Ryder couldn’t see Durge behind him but heard his footsteps and his bag scraping against the stone walls. The tunnel twisted to the east and Ryder could see the twilight of the day and feel the ocean breeze on his skin.

He picked up his pace but was disheartened when he realized the exit was barred with metal poles. He pressed his head against one of the bars and exhaled aloud.

Ryder took a step back to gaze at the entire frame. He ran his fingers along where the ends met the stone. He noticed some space where the poles were shoved in, and that it gave some leeway when it was pulled or pushed.

“Hey, we’re finally out,” Durge said.

“Not quite. But the grate can be pushed off.”

Ryder showed Durge where the bars were moving.

Durge pulled and pushed on it until it moved a little more.

Ryder joined Durge and, rhythmically together, shoved the iron bars from the stone. With one final push, the grate fell forward and the duo fell with it. They groaned and laughed at one another.

Durge got up first and lent a hand to the tear-stained Ryder. As Ryder took his hand, he saw the flames emerge over the hill behind him. A mound was above the tunnel they exited from and a narrow river ran across. As night quickly approached, the county of Locria grew brighter.

Durge and Ryder climbed on top of the mound. The once golden harbor now turned to ash and cinder. No buildings were left intact and no person could be heard. The only ships at the dock were smoldering and sinking into the bay.

“There’s nothing left,” Ryder said somberly.

“Not my ranch. Not your manor. Nothing.” Durge started sniffling and rubbing his eyes. “And I don’t even give a shit about anything I had here. I’m just so sorry, Rye.” Tears ran down Durge’s cheeks while he clutched Ryder.

Ryder dug into Durge’s shoulder before a pitter-patter could be heard on the surface of the nearby river.

They both looked up.

Ryder put his hand out, and a heavy droplet fell into his palm.

Durge patted Ryder on the back and stepped down the hill.

“C’mon. I have a place where we can hide.”

Ryder wiped the tears with his arm and followed Durge.

“Where?” he asked.

“It’s a dugout. Haven’t been there in a couple of winters. But it’ll beat being out here.”

The wind and rain built into a torrential storm. Ryder followed Durge into a nearby forest. The trees didn’t protect them once the wind blew the rain sideways.

Durge wandered deeper into the forest, randomly stomping his foot near trees.

“What are you doing!?” Ryder shouted through the rain.

“It’s around here somewhere!”

Durge stared at a group of trees before rushing over and stomping his foot again.

This time a loud thump was heard.

“Over here!” he said while gesturing towards Ryder.

Durge pulled at a small wooden handle that was laid in the dirt. After straining both of his arms, he was able to free the trapdoor from the earth. Opening it uncovered a small ladder that led into a dark hole.

As Durge climbed down into the darkness, Ryder yelled from the top of the ladder. “What is this!?”

“Dry!” Durge retorted.

Ryder reluctantly went into the dugout. The scraping of metal and rocks could be heard as he entered, and eventually, a small fire grew in a primitive lantern Durge held. A warm glow spread across the hidden basement.

The walls and ground were of dirt and clay, but the roof was of thick and crude wooden planks covered with soil. It was damp and dusty but provided shelter from the storm above. The only furniture inside was a hammock that hung between the wooden pillars and a small table in the corner.

Durge set the lantern on the table. “You can take the hammock. You know I can sleep just about anywhere.”

Ryder approached the rope hammock and slowly put his weight on it. The rope stretched and the dust fell off but it held taut to the pillars.

Durge set his bag on the ground and laid his head against it.

As the two lay silent in their rest, the lantern grew dim and thunder shook the ground. Flashes of lightning were faintly seen through the cracks of the ceiling and the wind still howled through the trees above.

Durge grew restless, tossing and turning.

Ryder was swaying silently in the hammock before he whispered,

“You awake, Durge?”

Durge turned over to face Ryder, “Yeah.”

“Are we going back there in the morning?”

“We shouldn’t,” Durge said.

“Why not?”

“You have to keep moving forward. Let it all turn to dust and keep moving.”

“I don’t know where on the entire planet of Trientalis to move to, Durge.”

“Just go wherever your gut tells you. I listen to mine quite well.”

Ryder lightly scoffed, “I was thinking about talking to Harmony, she was close to my mom.”

“Who?”

“The queen, Harmony, the one that rules the city-state of Harmony. It’s just like Countess Locria, the countess of Locria.”

Durge rolled his eyes. “Then let’s go to Harmony and talk to the queen herself. Sounds like a well-earned adventure.”