The Path of Heroes - The Aftermath
She'd escaped with only burns and cuts, but her father had taken a severe wound when the meteor had struck his room. She cared for him now, praying that Lauron would return swiftly with a healer from the Abbey.
Lauron had been training with the militia, when he'd spotted the fiery maelstrom approaching. He was the only one who hadn't attempted to find cover, but had come as swiftly as he could to find her. He'd run through the whole storm, trying to reach the house, yet he had lived, and all the other members of the militia had died.
There was another entrance into the cellar, from the outside, and he'd come in that way. He'd helped her get father out and stop his bleeding. After his breathing had stabilized and he'd drifted off to sleep, she'd allowed herself a moment of weakness. Letting Lauron hold her, as she'd wept. Letting the tears wash away the terror and horror of the desolation around them. They'd held each other like some great evil was attempting to pull them apart and only if they held on with all their strength, could they prevail against the darkness that would bloat out their lives.
The smoke and ruin had filled the sky, darkening the light of the sun and bringing night early to the land. When they'd arrived at the town, they found the local healer dead along with many others. The destruction there had been complete, less than two score remained out of the hundreds that used to call this place their own.
A quick search revealed that the closest healer would be found at the Abbey. The Abbey and its inhabitants had long been on benevolent terms with the town. With the villagers helping in the provision of the healers and monks who called it home and in return the Abbey provided the town with a healer at all times of the year. It was decided that someone needed to be sent to bring help for all the wounded that needed healing. As soon as Lauron got word of this, he volunteered for the job.
She'd been worried at first, knowing that he'd not escaped unscathed from the storm, but mostly she'd been loath to let him out of her sight in the aftermath of what had just happened. He'd taken the time to calm her and explained to her what she'd all ready known. That even injured, he was faster then anyone else currently able to make the trip to the Abbey.
He'd left immediately, while there was still some daylight by which to see. He promised to take every care and would return early the next morning.
"If I have to, I'll carry the monk on my back", he'd said as they'd said their goodbyes. She'd forced herself to smile at that, for his sake, to show him that she'd be all right. She watched as he left on foot, refusing to let her mind dwell on any of the nightmares that seemed to lurk at the edge of her mind. Within moments, he'd disappeared from her sight; lost in the lingering flames and swirling smoke.
A scream woke her, not the moan or cry of one of the injured, but a piercing cry of pain and death. Before she could shake off the fringes of sleep that still clung to her mind, chaos erupted all around her. At first it was shouts of alarm, but they quickly turned to cries of fear and rage. Father stirred as she darted out of the make shift tent. His breathing had become weaker and weaker during the night, and she feared he wouldn't last much longer without divine intervention.
She heard the sounds of battle before she saw it. Dawn was more than an hour away, and it took her a moment to make out the small creatures that had rushed in with weapons and torches. The torches they used on the make shift tents, set up by the townsfolk, and the weapons they used on anyone who came across their path. Something stirred in her, something violent and dangerous.
As she'd watched her father through the night, watched him struggling for his life. A slow despair had crept over her, filling her with dark thoughts. As she'd sat there, watching helplessly, a rage had filled her, a ragged, hot hatred. Rage at whatever had caused all this pain and death; at the gods who'd forsaken them, but most of all, at herself. At her utter uselessness, at her weakness, at her fear. Exhaustion had finally taken her, and she'd slept; with her tears of frustration still wet on her face.
Her exhaustion evaporated before the thing that awoke in her, it rose up within her; hungry and demanding. All thoughts scattered within her mind, replaced only with a need for action. A need that had been born of the helplessness and frustration she'd felt the night before. Swiftly she collected the bow that Lauron had made for her. He'd also taught her how to use it.
As she rushed out of the tent, a strange pulsating calm settled over her. There was no hesitation, only a single-minded determination as she released her first arrow into the nearest grawl. Before any of his comrades had time to react, she'd notched and fired another arrow at a second grawl. She paid no heed to the grawl's scream as it fell to the ground, writhing in pain, her attention moving to the next target. She was preparing her next arrow when a grawl came hurling out of the predawn mist on her right side. At this range, her shot killed the grawl instantly, but she couldn't avoid the glancing blow from its hammer as its momentum carried it into her.
The blow struck her in the left shoulder and deflected into the side of her face. It spun her around and she fell, dazed. Her ears pounding, she struggled to find her bow, which had been knocked out of her hands. She was reaching for it when the kick caught her in the ribs. She would have screamed, but found no breath with which to do it. As she tried to roll away from her attacker, a foot slammed into her belly, pinning her down. Reality crashed into her, all her strength abandoned her, this time she did scream.
As the wave of pain finally released her, she managed to open her eyes. As she blinked away the tears, she came face to face with something out of her worst nightmares. The hideous beast held a bow, notched with a black arrow. Her last thought before darkness engulfed her was for her unborn child.
To be continued...
