"You Lied." Valen snarled at the coward.
"Lie? I didn't lie? Didn't you see? Everyone who fought died!" The coward rambled on faster than most could understand.
"I fought. I lived."
"You are you! Don't try and compare the rest of us or the monster that you are."
"Enough." The elderly nun cutting through the growing argument "Now is not the time to argue. It's almost sundown. Solara's light will shine no longer."
"Now is the time to prepare. Tend to the wounded, gather supplies. And search for any survivors lost in the wreckage."
Everyone nodded along to the instructions of the elderly nun. She had once served on the front lines, a battle nurse.
Battle nurses were feared for one thing, their unshakeable resolve. Some say they are blinded by Solara's light, some say they are guided. But the truth remains that nearly everyone in the room owed something to the kind lady.
"Split into two groups. One will search the wreckages for supplies, and survivors."
She spoke, as her youth returned to her briefly. "The other will fortify this church. Every doorway, every window, every entrance those vile demons can enter from."
The first to respond was Valen. Sheathing his blade before steadily limping towards the door.
"I will search for survivors." Valen announced as he opened the door.
Soon after, 2 guards along side Lyra joined him.
"We will begin at the wall." Valen stated. "Stay close."
It was not a random decision, rather he wanted to retrieve his trusty spear. It's black shaft had never broken in years of abuse, and it's silver blade never seemed to dull.
Of course Valen did not neglect to maintain it. After all, maintaining his weapons had been instilled into him from young.
By now, the stormy winds and frosty rain had won against the inferno he once called home. A faint sizzling hung lightly in the air as the last embers drifted wildly.
The houses once home to many laid charred and broken, now unable to sustain their own weight.
On his right was the forge of Old Brenn. It's dull echo buried deep in his soul after years of practicing with the old man.
On his left was the house of one the guards. That guard was one of the unlucky few to have been on the first expedition out. His clothes still hung on a line waiting to be collected by their owner. Underneath, lay a small crib, empty. Forgotten.
As Valen walked he saw more bodies. More ruins. More devastation.
And with every step he took his mind wandered more.
Where had these beasts come from? Would they come again? Was the old guard truly dead?
Slowly, Valen stopped dragging his limp leg and began taking normal steps. A faint tingle covering his body, unsure of if it was adrenaline or fear, he pushed on.
Two guards flanked Lyra on either side, her small frame unassuming against the chaos around them. She was courageous, had to be.
After all she volunteered to follow him into what could've been the depths of hell. Valen felt strangely trusted, if not for the fact most his friends were now dead, he might have been happy.
As Valen approached the broken gate, his nose twitched at the horrid smell of burnt flesh.
The pungent musk of death was rancid. Bloody poodles littered the ground caking his boots with a thick layer of black.
In front of him lay rows of dead beasts. Unsure of what to call them, or what they even were. And among them lay humans. Some guards. Some simple villagers. A strange pride welled in his weary heart.
At least his people went out swinging.
In front of the makeshift cemetery for humans and demons alike, stood a row of embedded spears.
Each being tipped by a bleeding demon. They were already dead , having various other wounds on their body. It all looked like a macabre art show, surreal, yet disturbingly real.
He made his way towards his spear. It was not hard to find. He was the center of the formation after all. The spear was huge compared to his growing frame. Reaching well over his head, a blue ribbon tied neatly at its base.
With a grunt, Valen yanked the spear out of the ground. Then walked over to its tip and kicked the hanging body off.
Wincing, he quickly regretted trying to act cool.
"You two, check for supplies." Valen said through gritten teeth. Already accepting he would be unable to carry much back. "I'll search for survivors with Lyra"
The two young men nodded, then silently moved towards a semi intact building nearby.
It could have been called robbery if not for the fact the owners were either dead, or waiting for the two to bring them some food.
Meanwhile, Valen and Lyra awkwardly moved from building to building.
"Hello! Anyone there?" Occasionally calling out hoping for a response. Using his spear as leverage the duo managed to move some debris here and there, checking the insides for any unconscious survivors.
One by one they checked every wreckage. Every charred heap of wood and ash. Every nook a child could've hid themselves. But they had no luck to be found on this fateful day.
There was only one building he had yet to check, his own. It was a short walk away from the others. Having taller walls and a large fence surrounding it.
It's windows covered by dark blue curtains.
An artistic touch his late mother had dotted around his life.
He half-believed she was mocking his last name. But she had always been a strange woman. Rambling on about dragons and Knights. Most the bed time stories she told him had a knight in it. Most also had either a benevolent, or a cruel, dragon. Valen had shrugged it off as one of the many quirks his mother had, never giving it much importance. But currently he was overjoyed. Overjoyed that the last remants of his mother was still here, untainted, untouched.
"Slow down!" Lyra protested as Valen began a slow jog to his home. The fence gate was broken. But that did not cause him to falter in the slightest. After all, in the midst of all this carnage a single broken gate was hardly a worriesome cause.
Slowly, he approached his front door, "Strange. I never leave the door open."
It was slightly ajar the wind causing it to rock slowly, letting out an eerie screeching.
"I should've probably oiled the door hinges by now." Valen remarked as he pushed open the door.
And as he did so, he reached back to grasp his sword.
His gut was screaming at him to be cautious.
As Valen inched into what was once his sanctuary, his blade at the ready, Lyra strolled right in.
"Relax. Nothing is here." She said. Confidently strolling inside. Along the way she had picked up a short sword, but even that was sheathed.
"Never underestimate your enemy." Valen retorted. Forced to match her pace, he stopped inching forward and began a brisk walk.
"Come on, Solara's light will leave us soon." Lyra urged once more.
"Fine." Valen muttered, silently hopeful she was right about the safety of his home.
The duo walked throughout the house. It was not huge, but was not small either. It's large dining room fit to hold meetings, it's kitchen fit to cook a feast. Valen had no idea how they had afforded such a large house in the middle of nowhere. After all only the church could claim it was bigger. But Valen guessed it was a hand-me-down from one of his father's superiors.
Soon, they reached the corridor that connected the main living space with the back garden.
"V.v.valen..." called Lyra. Her voice thick with shock and fear.
At her feet lay a thin trail of blood. Hard to see in the cold darkness of his house, that trailed down the corridor.
"Yes?" Valen replied, his voice even and his tone comforting.
"I think I found something..." Lyra's voice hissed under her breath, pointing down with both her emerald green eyes and her dainty hands.
"I thought you said nothing is here?" Not missing the chance to tease the poor girl, Valen smirked. Ofcourse he was not at all happy. He was merely putting on a facade to comfort her. He had no idea when, but his stomach had begun to protest and his hair had already been slicked back with sweat. Even in this cold rainy night.
"Let's follow the trail?" Lyra questioned, swallowing the fear the threatened to consume her. She understood the stakes at hand. Hardly anything could make you uneasy like a bloody trail in ones home during an invasion. She wasn't sure why, but she felt like this was definitely a planned attack. Maybe even planned just right to avoid the main border army. But she was uncertain if she was simply giving them more credit than they deserved. She has yet to see them up close after all.
"Yes. Stay behind me." Valen ordered as he inched forward once more. Slowly they followed the trail of blood, as it got thicker until it coated the floor entirely. Valen noticed the broken vases next to a knocked down cupboard, he noticed what seemed to be claw marks etched into the wooden walls. There was a few nails scattered among the blood, which Valen recognized as his uncles.
"It might be my uncle! We must hurry." Abandoning caution in favour of speed, he dashed through the narrow corridor. Barreling through an open door before coming to an abrupt halt.
The trail directly into the basement.