Young Writers Society

Cynric looked up in horror as the sky erupted. Fire fell upon the streets of Bazinet as if it were rain, the wooden buildings burned furiously. Cynric sheltered inside the brothel, hearing screams and shouts coming from the hell outside. Cynric’s boss struck the wall with his bare fist, enraged the man grabbed a club and ran out into the inferno outside as if to beat the fire back with sheer force. Cynric watched his mouth agape as the crazed businessmen ran into the fiery hell. Not a second later he came staggering back he collapsed in the alley his throat slit and covered in sweltering blistering burns. Behind him stood the wolf clan Beastkin from earlier, he wielded a mean looking greatsword. Cynric knowing the Beastkin to be exceptional fighters and having no way to defend against such a weapon, kept his mace sheathed. The outlaw watched the Beastkin carefully, he said “I have no quarrel with you Beastkin, nor do I care for this city.” The Beastkin gestured for Cynric to leave and silently strode past into the brothel.

Cynric taking his chance threw on his leather overcoat and ran to the door, seeing that fire had stopped falling like rain, he stepped over the corpse of his late boss and left the alleyway. Out on the streets the destruction was more apparent, more corpses littered the street, some were burnt beyond recognition others had been cut down by Beastkin. There was no discrimination men, women and children. All were being killed in this hell. A building to Cynric’s left collapsed in flames, and the inferno grew bigger, it was hot, Cynric felt his hair singe as he ran through the streets trying to find a landmark.

Ahead he saw two sailors brawling with the biggest Beastkin Cynric had ever seen, a member of the bull clan, it towered over the desperate sailors, and its arms looked as if they weighed a ton. The Bull swung at a sailor, the sailor failing to dodge the blow was flung to the side landing hard, and he didn’t get up. The other sailor jumped back to avoid the bull’s ferocious attack. The outlaw readied his mace and dagger. As he moved to join the fray, the remaining sailor flew into Cynric, an explosion of air left Cynric’s lungs as he and the sailor collapsed on the ground. Scrambling to get up knowing any second wasted could be death, the two men staggered back on their feet, the bull’s fist was quickly approaching the side of Cynric’s head. With almost instant reflexes he slipped away from the bull’s strike, Cynric swinged his mace at the Beastkin’s head, catching it off guard the iron mace hit the top of its skull with a soft thwack. The Bull groaned in agony, it turned to face Cynric its eyes clouded with primal bloodlust. Cynric shuddered and immediately turned on his heel and retreated down the street towards the main square, the sailor following him just as terrified. The Bull charged after them and he was fast for its size, Cynric in a mad panic grabbed the sailor by the collar and flung him in the Beastkin’s path. Cynric kept running towards the main square ignoring the guttural screams behind him.

The flames were intense they climbed high and hot they were unnaturally potent, more and more buildings were collapsing around Cynric as he ran. Reaching the main square the outlaw saw a group of people in hooded robes, a strange rune decorated the centre of their robes. Cynric could sense they were dangerous, his heartbeat pulsed in his ears and a shiver went down his spine every time he looked at them directly, he silently thanked the gods they hadn’t seen him. They strolled around as if there was nothing wrong. In the corner of Cynric’s eye he saw a woman holding her child closely emerging from a building nearby to the hooded people, she ran towards them waving and yelling for help. Upon seeing her one of them pointed a pale finger at her, the air around its hand became distorted as if the air was liquid and something had just broken the surface. The air rippled and twisted forming a strange dart like shape, it seemed to be solid. The strange dart sped at the woman, it hit her in the chest, she stopped dead in her tracks, and after a full second of her standing there in shock she dropped her child and held her head in her hands as if she had gone mad. She let out an ear piecing shriek. She was silenced when her head caved in on itself. Cynric watched from the other side of the square, stricken by copious amounts of fear, the outlaw bolted down a nearby street to get away from whatever those robed things were. Desperate for a way out Cynric kept manoeuvring through the burning streets, stepping over corpses and ignoring pleas for helps from survivors. The sound of clashing steel and yells arose from up ahead. Wanting to avoid any more skirmishes Cynric detoured around the fighting. Seeing a large group of survivors heading for an exit Cynric rejoiced. Hurrying to join them, he saw adventurers forming a protective circle around the survivors. Before he could get any closer a hand grabbed Cynric’s coat from behind, spinning to confront the hands owner he saw a guardsmen clutching his side, he seemed desperate.

“Please… please help the duke” he gasped, pointing to the sound of fighting behind Cynric.

Ignoring the guard Cynric kept walking toward the survivors. Stopping to stare at his feet, his mind raced with possibilities of the benefits and boons he could receive if he saved a duke, thinking better of it he kept walking towards the survivors, something in him stopped Cynric from taking another step, a strange urge to help, Cynric trying to discourage himself felt the urge turn into a need, he had to go, it became painful to think about anything else. Cynric turned and looked toward the fighting, “Fuck this!” he yelled. And against his better nature the outlaw followed whatever whim was commanding him to the Duke’s aid.

~~

The court was in an uproar, nobles panicked and guards rushed about. The Duke stood at the window watching, the glow from the flame outside reflected in Enroth’s eyes. He was enraged but moreover he was scared, the thin duke turned at looked at the nobles, some huddled together liked animals others yelled and argued over the top of the roaring flames outside. Enroth stormed past and went towards his quarters, seeing their duke in such a way the nobles rushed to follow, they pummelled him with questions the door to his quarters was blocked by his stout advisor. Ignoring the nobles Enroth stopped in front of his advisor and said his voice was rough “I’m leaving I will go to my brother the king and raise an army, then I’ll come to return the favour to these animals!” The man seeing the fire in his Duke’s eyes nodded and stepped out of his way. Slamming the oak doors behind him he ignored the muffled yelling coming from the hall and knelt down, slipping open a false wall behind his desk, he entered the crawlspace, shuffling through the tiny space with ease with is small frame. After what felt like hours, Enroth pushed hard against a crumbling wall leading to outside the castle.

Out on the streets Enroth could hear clashing steel and cries of battle, a rush of panic filled memories flooded the Duke, he reached for his short sword, his hand groped at empty space. Cursing to himself the Unarmed Duke forced himself onward despite his shaky lags and haggard breath. The flames roared in his ears and Enroth made his way towards the nearby gate. Three guardsmen saw their Duke skulking through the streets.

They rushed over to him, “my lord! Do you need assistance?” they said almost in unison.

Enroth inspected the three, “Protect me but tell no one you saw me today.” He took a deep breath, straightening himself he checked to see his royal signet ring still with him. The group moved cautiously.

Ahead a group of Beastkin descended upon several desperate survivors. Enroth slipped behind the guardsmen, looking for a way around the fight the duke pointed to a side street and began to move that way. He was stopped by one of the guardsmen, “my lord, we need to help those people.” Enroth stared at the young guard, he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Enroth grimly nodded and the three guards went to intercept the Beastkin invaders. The sound of clashing steel filled the air. The Duke crept around the battle, trying to get away. A foot kicked the Duke in the gut, toppling over the duke landed hard on his side an explosion of breath escaped his lips.

A massive Beastkin of the Bull clan towered over him, its face drenched in blood, it grinned sadistically, and its wild eyes pieced Enroth’s soul. The Duke looked over and saw two of his guards getting cut down by the Beastkin one of them had ran off. Enroth smiled weakly at the face of death, he trembled in fear. He watched as the bull raised his massive fists ready to smash a skull, Enroth closed his eyes and waited for death, his ears rung and he felt as if he was going to be sick. Nothing happened, he opened his eyes, the scene in front of him was different the bull was facing away. A young man with grey hair wielding a mace and a dagger taunted the Beastkin, his over coat flapped in the wind, and a wild grin was set on his face. He dodged a punch from the bull and bludgeoned its head with his mace. Stunned the bull staggered, before delivering another blow. Feinting an attack and narrowly avoiding the Beastkin’s fists, the man took advantage of its over balanced lunge, he tackled the Beastkin and plunged his dagger through its neck. A sick but satisfying gurgle came from its throat. Splattered with blood the grey haired man stood, he turned to face the Duke. Enroth struggled to stand, he watched cautiously as the man approached. He grabbed the duke by the arm and pulled him towards the north exit. Before the duke could protest a loud crashing of a building engulfed in fire collapsed. There was no hope of rebuilding from this. “Hey!” a firm voice interrupted the duke’s thoughts, it was the bull slayer. “Hey you’re the Duke right? I’ve come to get you out of here.”

Enroth looked surprised, brushing the man’s hand of him he said “Why are you helping me who sent you?”

He ignored the question, looking to the northern gate not too far in the distance the man said. “c’mon let’s move.” Silently agreeing Enroth followed him as they ran past collapsing buildings and stepped around corpses, the sound of the inferno was deafening. Reaching the gate they saw an open field and a wood not too far away. Breaking into an unsteady sprint the Duke and the grey haired man sped towards the woods.

The two men reached the shelter of the trees, panting heavily they took in their surroundings. The trees were densely packed together creating good cover, the inferno that used to be Bazinet city blazed so brightly that it illuminated the area. Enroth watched in dismay as his city burned to the ground, a firm hand grabbed his arm. “We got to keep moving, c’mon this way.” the man’s gruff tone, and roguish look, confirmed Enroth’s suspicions of him being a mercenary.

“Wait!” Enroth stopping the mercenary from proceeding deeper into the forest his beady eyes examined the mercenary. “I thank you for helping me, but who are you?”

The mercenary looked at Enroth indifferently, “oh yeah, the names Cynric. And why I helped you I’m not sure.”

“What do you mean?”

Ignoring the Duke, Cynric started to walk deeper into the forest gesturing for Enroth to follow, sighing the desperate Duke followed the mercenary. As they got deeper Cynric began to explain, “One of your guardsmen asked me to help out, I agreed on a whim, and I don’t care if you’re Duke Enroth but I’ll help you get to a major city anyway.”

“Just Enroth is fine” he looked at Cynric, his eyes clear and sharp, his expression showed he was not lying to the Duke.

Cynric paused, motioning to a small clearing a few metres away. “We can rest there.” As Enroth set about making a fire, Cynric tied string in a circle around the camp, attaching small bells to the string. Sinking into a sitting position Cynric tried to get comfortable, he could feel his tense muscles begin to loosen. He watched Enroth closely, the fire in-between them. They sat there silently tending wounds and trying to find some sort of comfort on the cold forest floor, Cynric broke the silence, “so Enroth.” He hesitated and Enroth raised an eyebrow, “um don’t freak out, but I got to clear the air if we are going to be traveling together, and I’m not too big on lying to royalty. I’m Cynric the cruel a wanted outlaw.”

Enroth returned his gaze back to the embers, “I know. Your hair and name gave it away, also I was at your trial.” He responded indifferently.

Cynric exhaled heavily, as if a huge weight had been lifted of his chest. “Well then, are you going to freak out and run off like everyone else?”

The Duke smiled at the outlaw, “ha, you must have it rough boy.” Cynric gave him a confused gaze. “My brother, the king highly exaggerated what you did, personally I found your crime rather humorous.”

Cynric grinned sheepishly “Is that so.” He stared at the embers glowing hot in the fire, “Say, you going to explain why a Beastkin invasion is happening? I thought humans and Beastkin’s were on good terms.”

Enroth nodded solemnly, “we are.” Cynric unsatisfied with the answer, opened his mouth to speak but was cut off, “Those killers weren’t fighting under orders from any Beastkin leaders. Did you see the strange symbol on the back of every Beastkin’s left hand, they were a cult or insurgencies of some sort.”

Cynric shrugged bobbing his head slightly “I didn’t see anything of the sort, I don’t understand why would a cult destroy an entire city?”

“To start another war.” Enroth made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a snort, “haven’t you learnt your history boy, Cults have gone to further extremes than destroying a city.”

Noticing Enroth’s reluctance to answer any more questions, Cynric lay back and watched the fire. “Speaking of symbol, I saw hooded people with an odd rune on their robes.”

“Hired mages I reckon.” He sighed and began to remove his ash ridden fine clothes and donning a simple tunic and slacks at Cynric’s suggestion, to avoid suspicion, he says, more like I want to sell your expensive clothes. The duke thought to himself as he handed them over to the grinning outlaw “those cultists will be looking for me.”

“I thought that would be the case” Cynric responded drily.

Continuing Enroth added, “To fully ignite a war they would have to kill me as well but it seems they have another goal in mind.”

Cynric sat staring into the fire processing what he just heard, he sighed “What’s our next move?” Enroth was leaning back his eyes closed, He didn’t respond so Cynric repeated the question.

Surprised Enroth looked up at him, “I heard you the first time, I thought you were talking to yourself.”

“Why would I ever talk to myself?”

Enroth shrugged, “well I thought you had a plan on our next ‘move’.”

The mercenary pressed his fore fingers and thumb to the bridge of his nose, mostly in frustration. “Well shit,” hesitating for a moment he continued, “I saw a large group of survivors and adventurers leaving through the east gate, most likely heading to a city or something. Maybe we could find them after the Beastkin have cooled down a bit and blend in.”

Enroth agreed and the awkward sullen silence continued. Cynric inspected the duke, his long dark hair reached down like a drape around his neck, his hair glossy shone in the fire light, it was strange seeing him in simple clothing.

Enroth suspiciously watched the outlaw his eyes darting from his matted grey hair, to his leather armour under his tan coloured overcoat. Enroth was unsure about Cynric. His mace and dagger sat menacingly at his side. Enroth’s subtle but deep voice broke the silence “I’m not sure I can sleep when unarmed and sitting across from a certain armed outlaw.”

Cynric ignoring the remark responded simply “don’t sleep then.” Enroth sighed dramatically watching the fire. Hours past and Enroth felt his fatigue catch up to him, his eyelids felt heavy and he passed out. The soft bell of the warning perimeter rang through the air.

~~

“Where is he?”

The hooded figure looked at his comrade in confusion. “What is it brother?” the two hooded mages strolled through the burning city

The first one vented his frustrations his voice shrill, “The duke. I have not seen him nor his corpse, he needs to die if our plans are to succeed.”

The other mage sighed dramatically, “It is no matter brother, and even if he escapes we have Beastkin tracking every group that left, he will show himself with time.” The two passed by the bull’s corpse “I wonder who killed Harrash the Bull?”

The first mage spat, “whoever did, may prove to be a problem, what do you think sister”

“It is of little concern brother, madman Mabrost may dark light hold he, will deal with any threats beyond the abilities of the brothers and sisters.” The first mage nodded and the two continued their patrol.