My body is running on pure instinct, each motion fueled by a raw urgency to keep these people alive—mypeople.
I turn—Where are my parents?!
Adrenaline spikes again; I spot more shapes skulking at the edge of the torchlight, slipping between broken beams.
I push forward, swallowing the panic that claws at my throat. Every breath rattles with ash, every step feels like I’m wading through a nightmare. But I can’t stop. Iwon’t.
“Ly!” I cough through the smoke, “Stay with me!”
She tucks in close behind me. I need her to stay alive.
My eyes lock on another cluster of villagers racing across the courtyard; parents, kids, elders, all trying to flee the carnage and danger. Two monstrous silhouettes slither into their path.
I hurl another wave of crackling energy at the darkness. The beasts vanish in shrieks. I swallow hard, sweat trickling down my neck.
I feel a surge of relief when I spot my parents through the smoke, helping a group of villagers out of a two-story house that’s barely standing. Even from a distance, I can see the fear etched into their faces.
They’re only twenty feet ahead of us now, helping the last few people out. My chest loosens. For the first time since the attack began, I feel a flicker of hope.
Maybe, just maybe, we can all make it through this.
I shout—“Mother! Father!”
Their heads snap toward me. Hands reach out through the smoke, beckoning Lyra and me forward.
“My son!” A scream cuts through the night—raw, panicked.
Before I can react, my father is moving. He turns, running back into the house without hesitation.
“Branik—wait!” My mother yells after him, following.
But he doesn’t. They vanish into the smoke.
And then—a shape tears through an exterior wall of the house. A Fellborn. And behind it—more shadows.
They pour into the space like a black wave. And my parents are still inside. Trapped.
“Hold on,” I breathe.
I surge forward, flinging flames at every shadowed form that moves. Lyra is right behind me, her lesser magics rising up just in time to trip the ones that slip through my fire. We’re barely managing.
A deafening crack splits the night. The roof of the house caves in with a groan of splintering wood. A blast of heat erupts as burning beams collapse, exploding in a roar of fire and sparks.
“No!” The word rips out of me—raw, feral. My feet are moving before my mind catches up, sprinting toward the collapsing structure.
“Amara, wait! It’s too dangerous!” Lyra’s voice chases after me as I tear away from her grip.
But I don’t stop. I can’t. They have to get out—theyhaveto.
Flames roar higher, the heat blasting my face. Chunks of the house crumble, tumbling inward. I cross the threshold.
Inside, a shadow creature slams into the far wall with bone-snapping force.
I see it—just for a second—Father is there, arms raised, trying to hold the walls with earth magics. The floor rumbles beneath my feet, his voice shouting something I can’t hear over the chaos.
But it’s too late. The beams are already splintering. The fire’s too strong. The stone—it can’t hold. And then—
A sound like the world breaking.
