Burning. That's what he felt, that's what he woke to. Pressure is what forced his mind to focus. The smell of blood was what made him start to panic. He tried to squirm, move, or scuttle. Yet his body wouldn’t budge. He felt his right hand under immense pressure and an unholy amount of pain. Contrary to the two forces, he still clutched the black blade as if it was his life. His other hand was completely free. The left side of his body wasn’t doing much better, the flames had not spared him. His left eye was melted shut, his fingers barely just nubs, clothes mixed in with skin. With his good eye he saw a small being in front of him. While it was bloodied and burned.. It was still breathing, barely.

“Dion.” Kenan said, his words were mere whispers as his burned muscles lacked the strength to do anything. He reached with his left hand, each movement causing immense pain. Softly he scratched behind the Foxes ear. Dion shifted his head to look at his best friend. While he couldn’t be one-hundred percent sure, he was confident Kenan would get out of this wreck. He started to wag his tail, not because of him getting petted behind the ear once again, but because he had managed to save his master. He was sure, now more than ever, it was worth dying. Kenan felt as the heart beat slowed, and then to a stop. His best friend had died.

He wept. No tears came out of his eyes. The fire had forcefully sucked all the moisture from him. There was no telling how much time passed. His mind lost itself in sorrow. Yet it was in his sadness, did he find the drive for survival. Dion sacrificed himself, and Kenan would be damned if he let it go to waste.

Mana deprivation was currently his worst enemy. Unfortunately, he would die much sooner from that than starvation or the lack of oxygen. He did poke a hole through his skin to allow his physical body to get nourished months ago. The fire that burned the hole shut.

He looked inside, he felt the mana that still floated in his physical form. Over the months of introspection he started to master his body and its systems. Knowing his mana consumption rate, he would, at max, have four hours left to live. To couple with the fact he had to get out of the rubble, then walk all the way to the village. That's if he could still walk. His chances were zero to nil, but he still had to try.

Breathing in and out. He stilled his blood. He needed as much mana as possible to aid his escape. Yet he needed to retain as much as possible Rationing in his head, he mentally prepared himself to use an hour and a half worth of mana. It seemed as though time was ticking twice as fast.

Quickly circulating some mana in his bloodstream, he was about to make his attempt when a thought crept in his mind. The mana in his dantian was usable. Many times he has practiced circulating it. Outside of his gates, was a network of mana-veins that formed a mirror of his physical body. So he could still use that mana. All that he needed to do was act on the theoretical.

Splitting his mind into two, one part started to reinforce the body with mana making it several times stronger than it usually is. He swirled the mana in his dantian. Creating a fast vortex with energy begging to be released at any minute “Three, two, one! Ahhh!” Lifted with his enhanced strength, he felt his left side scream in burning, insufferable pain. He also felt the rubble move. When the last of his strength was used, he sent power rushing into his metaphysical arm. There was a bubble of mana created seconds before it violently exploded. Creating just enough force for him to break the surface.

Agony and joy hit him at once. While he was happy with escaping, he now knew why all sentients specialized their mana. The force that blew him out had affected his arm, turning it in a hundred different angles. For a few seconds he screamed in pain before suddenly it was so much he simply became numb.

His right hand, while severely broken, still held the black sword. He, half submerged in the rubble, looked at his feet, where he found its sheath. With one arm he somehow managed to put it on, he stared at it for a while. While Inspecting it closely, his blood had accidently dropped on it. He didn’t notice the blood disappear, as if it soaked into the blade.

What was once the front of his home lay a total of nine bodies, he didn’t look too close. Fear, and blissful ignorance told him to withhold the knowledge. The barn was rubble too, the pigs out in the pins had their throats cut. Seeing that all of them were incredibly stiff, he deducted at least two hours passed., maybe more, maybe less. He couldn’t accurately guess. The chickens and the horses had been taken. Leaving both the stables and coop empty and wrecked.

Slowly, and with pain, he excavated the rest of his body from the rubble. He grabbed the sword again. He tried to walk, but failed to do so. Not because his legs weren’t working, but because he simply had no energy left.

He crawled his way out, receiving multiple cuts and bruises along the way. He had reached the bodies, most he didn’t know. He continued. At the end of the trail of blood, his heart sank. His father lay stiff and dead, arms were cut off, neck silt, Legs forcefully broken backwards and too many depressions from a large fist to count.. His mother, with her head laying on Tyris’ side. She was still breathing, but life was fleeting fast. Large bloody cuts across her stomach had spilled some of her guts onto herself. Kenan knew he could do nothing.

He crawled over. “M-m-mother.” He whispered, his voice too was starting to shut down. She looked down at his ugly visage of half melted skin, bloody cuts and broken limbs.

“No!” She tried to exclaim. “You were meant to run.” Tears pathed a way through her bloodied. “No-no-no-no.’ She kept saying.

He crawled closer, forced himself up a little. “I will live.” Bringing up his mangled, burned hand-stub to wipe her tears. “There is no need to worry.” He brought on his best brave voice. Knowing, he would follow the same fate as her, his father, and Dion.

“I-i-i. Love you so much.” Her words were getting slower. “Lucy, find Lucy. They took her.”

“I will.” He crawled even further. He decided, he used another bit of mana to bring himself sitting up and put her head onto his lap. She reached up and caressed his burned face. “Oh you handsome boy. I knew, as soon as you were born, you would sweep some nice girls off of her feet and leave me.” Her eyes became cloudy as if she was looking past Kenan and somewhere beyond. “Of course honey. I must go talk to your father.” With that, all the remaining energy was sapped out of Ana. Kenan felt her muscles go slack. He wept again, but he would soon find rejoice. He would join his mother, father, and Dion. He closed his eyes.

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…

“NO!” He screamed. “I. WILL. LIVE!” He closed both his mothers and father's eyes. He didn’t know what fuel source he was pulling from, nor cared. He stood slowly. Not a minute passed before he stopped his walk. For his horse had impeded his route and layed down, making it easy for him to get on. He didn’t sit, but instead half laid on the beast. Hoping and praying it knew what it was doing. This time when he closed his eyes, he had no hidden power source to pull from.