Young Writers Society

The Town Guard was being pushed back past the bell tower, and just half a dozen of the twenty original guards still stood. The Sadorians attacked with animal-like ferocity. There was something terrifying about the way they fought. No remorse, no care for self as they literally thrust themselves on top of the guards. 

How did they break through Hoden's Pass? 

 Carris took in a deep breath. She wasn't sure what to do. She had no idea where her mother was, and soon the guards would be dead and she would die next. The Sadorians would find her and hack her apart with those massive axes. Sweat rolled down her nose despite the cold, and she could feel the panic rising in her chest.

 Then he emerged from the shadows. The figure was tall. He was clad in black-as-night armor. The horns on his helmet wrapped viciously around, swirling back then spiraling forward, pointing ahead like a bull's horns. He dragged a heavy black sword that cut through the thick snow like a knife through butter. The faceguard of his helmet jutted out like a snout, and small puffs of his breath floated in the air like a raging animal. He approached the conflict in long strides, and yet looked as if he was in a no hurry. It was a confident walk. Like when a man is about to put down a dying animal lying on the ground. He stopped a dozen paces behind the wall of fighting and brought the sword up, clasping it with both hands. 

 "For Vera!" he bellowed, voice cutting through the din of battle with clarity and resonance that seemed to echo through the sky, like a thunderclap. 

 With a broad stroke, he lashed out with the sword in the direction of the Town Guards. A gust of wind literally propelled out of the blade of the sword, whipped past the Sadorians like a soft summer breeze, and then slammed into the Town Guard. The wind caught them up like a kite and sent them barreling backward in the air. They landed hard, skittering to a stop in the snow or ramming into the nearby buildings with a crash. 

 Carris stood to her feet, hand to her mouth. What. Th- 

 A hand landed on her shoulder. Carris turned instinctively, fist outstretched to strike her attacker with a scream. The soldier caught her fist and turned it aside with ease, putting a finger to his lips. Carris noted that Sandra was behind him, a blank expression on her face, mouth gaping. The soldier spoke. 

"We need to get out of here, right now. The Sadorians are about to smash through this town and then we'll all be dead. Is there somewhere we can hide? A cave, a thick forest, anything?" 

 Carris stared at him, mind numb. She stuttered, trying to speak, but she wasn't sure what was going on. What had she just seen? 

 The soldier put a hand on her shoulder, much softer this time. Like how Gwyn would do it when she was trying to comfort Carris after a bout with her mother. He spoke softly, but firm. "Look, I know what just happened is crazy. But I need you to focus." He cast a glance past Carris. "I just need you to focus on one thing. A place to hide. A cave maybe? Or a burrow?" 

 Carris didn't like his hand on her shoulder. She didn't like people touching her period. But it took her mind off what she had just witnessed for a moment, and she was able to find her voice.  

"There's a waterfall upstream. Beneath the falls there's a small cave. I don't know how many people will fit in it though."

 "That's our best bet. How do we get there?" 

 Carris pointed across the town center, voice shaking. "It's past the mill upstream. But we can't go through the middle of town." She tried to keep her voice calm as she spoke, but the clash of swords and axes grated on her nerves and she felt her heart beat faster and faster.

 "Alright then, we'll double back from where I came. The Sadorians will be focused on the town and shouldn't notice us."

 "And if they do?"

Devlin let out a wry, but grim grin. "Run."

 He gestured for her to take the lead. "The name is Devlin, by the way." "Carris," she offered, her voice more of an unwilling grunt than a warm greeting, brushing past him along the back of the blacksmith. "This way." 

They slipped around the blacksmith, snaking through the sparse trees on the edge of town, and the faint sound of gurgling water broke through the din of crashing glass and flames licking up into the night sky.

"What are they doing?" Carris growled.

"Torching the place. No survivors that way," Devlin guessed.

They avoided the flames as the inn was set ablaze and the flickering flames danced wildly in amidst the shadows of the other buildings and trees. The trio looped around, hugging trees and the sparse shrubbery for cover until they neared Carris's cabin. She hesitated for a moment, eyes flitting between the cabin and the soon-to-be inferno that was Potter's Creek.

They'll torch our cabin for sure.

Carris's mind went to the small jar of money underneath her bed, the savings of nearly a year of laundry service for the town. It would be consumed in the fire if she just left it. And if she escaped Potter's Creek with her life, and yet lost everything that she had worked for, then what good would it do? She would be a year later, and not a second closer to getting away from this awful place, her mother, the freezing winters on the lonely mountainside.

Malcolm as well, she scoffed.

She turned to Devlin. "I'll be back."

She made for the cabin, but Devlin caught her arm. "Wait!" He whispered, although there was a distinct bite to his voice. "Where are you going?"

"Cabin," she nodded towards the lone structure.

"No, no, no. There's no time!"

Carris wrenched her arm away. "Then leave." she shot back.

Carris slinked to the cabin, ignoring whatever angry remark Devlin growled at her. She entered the cabin -door already hanging on its hinges- and found the place in disarray. The clothesline had been cut down and the shirts and pants lay strewn on the floor. The bucket of water had been splashed aside.

Carris carefully hopped over the puddle and brushed aside the curtain that divided her alcove from the rest of the cabin. She dropped to her knees and felt around for the small clay jar underneath her quilt. The rough container scratched across the wooden floor as she rolled it her way and snatched it under her right arm as she re-entered the main room. And froze.

A Sadorian stood in the doorway, torch raised like he was about to set the whole cabin ablaze. He hesitated as she came rushing through the curtain. In the few seconds of startlement, Carris glanced over the barbarian, for the first time getting a good look without avoiding a massive ax, at what these Sadorian barbarians looked like.

He was young, maybe eighteen, so just older than Carris. His face was still smooth, and clean-shaven, unlike most Sadorians who sprouted monstrous beards. But it was his eyes, cold grey, and his hair, sandy blond, just as Carris's own features, that were the most interesting.

He's me.

And it was true. Though male, he was nearly identical in every physical attribute. He had the short, yet sturdy frame. He wasn't overly wide, and yet seemed to carry a weight to his presence, a fierceness. And those eyes. There was a look in them as he stared down Carris. Regret? No.

Pity. Like he's going to put down a lame horse.

And that was more unnerving than any war cry that the young barbarian could have mustered up. He tossed the torch aside and approached, drawing his sword as he strode toward her. Carris screamed at her feet to move, but they wouldn't. Her tongue caught in her throat, and she could feel cold drops of sweat roll down her back and temple.

Her eyes became transfixed on the blade as he brought it above his head, and Carris imagined it coming down, smashing through her shoulder into her chest. Falling to the floor in a hysterical, convulsing, pathetic heap. And yet still she could not budge. So many thoughts flashed through her head

This is all life had to offer? Is it such a bad thing for it all to end? What was my purpose anyway?

The thoughts came rapid-fire, and her brain felt like it was going to explode. Her heart may have stopped beating, and she felt the feeling going out of her fingers

Then the sword began to wobble, just inches above her head. It swayed back and forth, then clattered to the floor at her feet. Carris's eyes snapped off of the blade and flicked to the Sadorian. A line of blood trickled out of his mouth as his gaze trailed down to his stomach where several inches of a sword jutted out, dripping crimson.

There was a different look in his eyes. One of absolute bewilderment, and perhaps fear as they widened to the point that Carris thought they may burst. Then he collapsed in a heap at her feet. His face slammed into the ground, violently jerking at the impact which sent blood splattering onto Carris's pantlegs.

It was then that she found her voice, and her legs, and shrieked as she stumbled back. Her foot caught on an article of clothing and she toppled backward onto her haunches. Pain shot down her leg.

Not again, she grimaced.

Devlin was wiping his sword on the Sadorian's wool jacket, staining it with more blood. His eyes, however, were aimed at Carris, piercing, and she could see the veins bulging on his neck.

"Let's go," is all he said, not even offering a hand to Carris. He instead walked out.

Carris pushed herself to her feet with an "oof" and avoided the dead body and the pool of blood forming on the ground. The torch had also begun to catch the clothes on fire, and she skirted around the small flames, and although it signaled destruction, she couldn't help but enjoy the sensation of warmth.

She met Devlin outside, who had apparently waited for her. Sandra, however, was a few yards ahead, seemingly of more of a sound mind, although she carried a slight sway in her steps. Carris, shaking from the ordeal, nodded toward her.

"She's headed in the right direction."

There was a clank of metal, perhaps armor, and Devlin put a hand in the air. Carris stopped in her tracks. Out from the trees, apparently retracing his steps, came the black-clad knight. His sword dragging along the ground as it had before, the almost lazy, yet supremely confident stride ever-present. He was headed for Sandra, and Carris this time moved to act, the vision of the Town Guard soaring through the air fresh in her mind.

But it was too late. The knight drew back his sword as if he were about to cast it away, then brought it forward.

With the shout "For Vera!" a gust of wind shot through the air, invisible, yet evident by the tree branches that whipped against the natural breeze, and the snow that swirled from the ground. Sandra was knocked from her feet and sailed the dozen yards from her position into the creek with a shattering of ice. It all happened so fast that Carris never even moved.

She screamed. Or she would have, but Devlin's hand clamped over her mouth, and he grabbed her around both arms before she could rush the black knight, all sense leaving her mind. Tears sprang to her cheeks, and she grunted, but the muffled sound was too quiet for the knight to hear, and he strode back toward the town.

Devlin wrestled her to her knees despite her efforts.

I'm going to kill him!

Devlin was talking, although at first, all Carris heard was beating of her heart in her ears, blood rushing to her face flushing it with color. She tried to inhale as her chest heaved up and down, but the hand on her mouth prevented her from doing much of anything.

Devlin leaned close to Carris, and his low gravelly voice whispered into her ear. "I'll let you go, but you cannot, cannot, make a sound. Or you'll be the next human to fly."

Carris nodded vigorously, and as soon as he let go she took in a deep, cold, breathe, ignoring the pain in her chest that felt like white-hot needles poking every part of her lungs. She gritted her teeth, turning to him.

"If you ev-"

Devlin brought his hand forward. Carris went silent immediately, fearing that he might smother her voice with it. She huffed, but Devlin was talking again.

"I'm not going to save you again. So if you want to yell at me you go right ahead. But good luck surviving when the next Sadorian comes for you."

And with that, he was away, headed upstream in search of the waterfall cave entrance. Carris sat in the snow for a moment, head spinning. There was too much going on.

Slow it down. That wasn't working. Nothing was. Maybe she should let a Sadorian kill her The night would finally be over, the running and misery finished. But natural survival instincts kicked in.

She rushed over to Devlin, who was hunched, leap-frogging from tree to tree. She followed in suit, casting glancing towards the blazing inferno that was once Potter's Creek. Anger welled up her chest, and she rubbed away the tears on her cheeks with a growl. She wasn't even sure what the tears were for. She didn't care about the town. She barely cared about her mother. She hated this soldier who had led the Sadorians to her town. And so she wondered what the tears were for.

Maybe I wish I cared.

She clutched the jar to her bosom as they lost sight of the fire, although the light it emitted illuminated the spirals of smoke in the sky. If there was anything she cared about at the moment, besides getting in hiding, it was that jar. At least she could pay to get away from this place.

They came upon the waterfall. spiraled down from above, a good thirty feet in the air. Here and there, a small current dribbled over the ledge, but the majority of the waterfall had frozen up in a majestic tumbling sheet of ice. It was beautiful. There was no denying it. The way that the sun would glance off of it at noon would leave one breathless.

At the moment Carris was breathless as it was, trying to keep pace with Devlin. As they reached the frozen falls he let her go on ahead. Behind the falls there appeared to be nothing but a dark stone wall. But if you ventured into the shadows there was a small crack in the stone, wide enough for a man and a half. In the dark, with no torches, Carris felt along the frigid and rough wall unto her hand caught nothing but air.

"In here," she motioned with her hand.

Devlin peered into the dark hole. "Home sweet home."

Carris rolled her eyes.