A dreadful sense of urgency hung over the platoon as they raced against the ticking sands. There were no more encouraging words to be said. Nothing left to be explained. The Maedra had shown that they were a step ahead. The Oryx force needed to react as quickly as possible to minimize casualties. For them all, there was no more desperate moment than now. Every Oryx in the formation knew that the forces left as a temporary defense wouldn’t be enough to stave off a Maedra horde. Without help from the experienced forces at the nest, the village was a wasteland in waiting.

While they had no idea of the destruction happening at their home just yet, the premonition of what was to come was clear and evident. Their formation was missing faces already. Mora and several guardsmen were gone. Their numbers were cut by a third, with several among those running already potential losses. Not a man was unscathed, not even the battle mage leading their group and the two captains in the middle of the formation. Dented armor. Chipped and dulled weapons. Wearing bones. Aching muscles. Strained eyes. Falling morale.

A reflection of the village’s state as a whole, the platoon was on its final leg. They could all feel it. Though each man and woman focused on the task to come, a brief look around was all it took to understand one thing. An undeniable fact that could not be denied. An answer to a question that none dared to ask. Based on numbers alone, they wouldn't be enough to change the outcome of whatever lay ahead. They numbered twenty total, with all of them nowhere near peak combat readiness. They would be running into a slaughter and likely would just add to the statistics.

Disregarding those thoughts, Captain Tyk remained calm. Understanding the lack of balance in his platoon, Tyk worked to redistribute armor and weapons between his men as they hurried along. There were no longer any definitive differences between the fighters up front. Only the mages remained lightly armored and agile. The others were expected to work together to be the vanguard. The change cost them a considerable amount of time but the efficient guardsmen wasted none of it.

“What will we do at the village?” Always looking for their next task in hopes of keeping his men focused, Tyk continued to ask the pressing questions. On the field of battle, the guards understood the importance of defined orders and explicit rules of engagement. Without them, the battle would devolve into chaos.

“Jake!” Nuro shouted over the noise of rattling armor towards the boy he had placed at the helm. The black clothed boy whose figure balanced on the knife’s edge. The one individual among them all who was silent. It was clear just how much he was resisting the urge to shoot off into the tunnel. Every so often, he would stumble ahead only to reel his emotions back in. With the platoon at his back, he couldn’t abandon them.

In spite of this, he wasn't thinking of specific tasks. All that was on Jake’s mind was the one person he’d left behind. Yae. He had left her in the care of Mur and the rear guard with the expectation of returning victorious. Maybe he would have a smile on his face and maybe some blood or something. Never was there a thought of her being in potential danger like this. How foolish he was to think that the Maedra would play fair. Not accounting for the chance of the Maedra baiting them out, they had set themselves up for this.

But there was little to mull over in the grand scheme of things. First and foremost, they needed to see what state the village was in. If the rear guard was holding up a strong defense and the village was being protected well, then the platoon simply needed to be on clean-up duty. In the worst case, they would be picking up corpses and cleaning up a destroyed home with sullen hearts. Of course, the obvious decision was clear, regardless of the village’s condition.

“Find the beasts and kill them!” Jake shouted over his shoulder. “Protect any survivors we find and provide aid where you can!”

Words they were all thinking. If the Maedra had reached the village then the first task would be to clear it. Building by building. Street by street. Every threat would need to be neutralized in order for the village to be reclaimed. The Maedra were a dangerous virus so not a single one could be left alive. Along with that, the buildings would need to be combed through for survivors. Any casualties would need to be sorted, organized, stabilized if they had life-threatening injuries, and treated with whatever resources were found.

Then, they would have to wait. Wait for the main force to return from the nest after either running away entirely or growing a pair and clearing it. If they ran, Jake knew in the back of his head that he would need to return to finish the job.

“Sounds clear to me,” Tyk huffed.

“How close are we?!” One of the men shouted, heaving for air beneath his helmet. The guardsman stumbled forward, his head hanging as the heavy armor covering his body dragged on his crying legs.

Tyk chuckled. “Tired, Cald?” The Captain taunted the man, triggering a few laughs.

“My legs hurt, dammit!” The guard whined. Forgoing discipline, he made his displeasure well known.

Tyk let out a loud, booming laugh and grinned beneath his helm. “Then it sounds like to me you all need more training. When this is all over, expect plenty of it!”

“Yes, Sir!” The voices answered in a mix of fake morale and sarcastic spouts. While they all dreaded what those words meant, it at least instilled one thing in their minds. Regardless of success or failure, there would be an end. They just needed to live long enough to see it.

Soon, the echoes of heavy footfalls were joined by the sounds of distant screams. The sounds muzzled any laughter or sarcastic outburst. Tension pulled the air taut. Jake narrowed his eyes and adjusted his mana flow, reducing his visual range as he fed mana into his ears. A field experiment that worked better than he expected as the sensitivity of his ears almost doubled. As a result, what he heard brought a grim expression to his face. His jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed.

The muffled noises were now clearly heard. The distant screams of victims that couldn’t flee. Traces of a desperate fight from those who struggled against death itself. Shrieks of more Maedra than he could count. Destruction of stone and the crumbling of rock.

The siege was well underway.

Step by step.

Inch by inch.

Meter by meter.

Yard by yard.

Retreat.

Suffocate.

Squeeze.

Trap.

The walls that were meant to protect slowly became barriers denying escape.

Walls built to provide shelter became coffins.

Walls built to provide courage became terror.

Mur stood in the center of the final intersection. Fallen Oryx lay trampled beneath the feet of the oppressive Maedra. The rotting bodies of the slain foe were scattered everywhere, a testament to their valiant resistance. As futile as it was, Mur could not help but be proud for what they had done. They had defied his expectations. Time and time again, they had proven him wrong. Feeble and weak. Yet determined and defiant. The Oryx people refused to die quietly. This was their home. The Ravine was their domain. Not the Maedra’s.

No matter how difficult it would be for them to survive. No matter how many times their kind faltered, they would still choose to face the living terror breathing just beyond the veil. For him, a man who had spent all of his life fighting and struggling, Mur could do nothing but give them the respect they had earned. If only they were a little bigger, a little faster, a little stronger. If only their race wasn’t doomed to fail. If only the Ravine wasn’t so unkind.

“On your feet, Warrior!” Mur reached to his side, grabbing the nape of a warrior’s neck who had tripped. He yanked the fighter to his feet and then slammed his hammer down onto the Maedra threatening them both. "You're still breathing!" Mur shouted, encouraging the Oryx.

They were surrounded. The lines had crumbled. The fight turned into a brawl as they stumbled backwards. The Maedra, their numbers and strength far beyond what they could have hoped to resist, had shattered their weak shields and pushed them all the way to the last corridors leading towards the civilians. Any further retreat would enable the Maedra to rush towards the sealed chambers. A few had already made it through, having either cleared the walls or rushed by. However, the defenders Mur had placed at those final gates were the last Elites he had on hand. Guardsmen who wouldn’t die to even a handful of these creatures.

But that meant nothing if those he stood beside perished.

It was inevitable, however, he knew that. They would kill as many Maedra as they could, only for the survivors to finish the job. That was the end result of this fight. It was clear from the beginning. However, Mur put his faith in the unlikely. A sliver of hope in his chest compelled him to struggle. One more swing. One more breath.

“They will come. They must!” He gritted his teeth and grabbed the throat of a Maedra who had lunged at him. With a powerful flex, he crushed its skull beneath his fingers. Muscles ached and burned all over his body. Blood leaked from scratches, gashes, and bite marks. His lower right hand was missing fingers and his thumb felt numb. His axe was chipped, his hammer dented. Clothes clung to his body in tatters.

“Lady Syndir, do not forsake me just yet!” Mur’s eyes flashed wide as he crashed his hammer through the weak arm of a Maedra. Half of its body vanished beneath the forged steel. He twisted the head of the weapon as he looked to his left. Then he swung heavily across the ground, smashing three Maedra together before launching them into the wall. Following up, his axe slashed over his head, splitting another Maedra in half. His bloodied hands snatched two more before clapping them together, smashing their bodies and shattering their crystal hearts.

With no time to pause and less time to breathe, Mur moved on to the next threat. The next enemy. A circle had formed around him, a space vacant of allies while the Oryx had established themselves around him. They weren’t back to back or side by side, but they all fought as close to one another as possible. As Mur swung his axe, killing another threat, he watched two Oryx fall. Such seemed to be the theme. For every Maedra Mur could kill, they took one or two of his own. It was frustrating.

But, as frustrating as it was, he continued to fight. He could see them looking at him. Watching him. The pillar of their wills, standing unwavering within the sea of rot. If Mur fell, he knew they would break. He could show no weakness. He could show no fear. He could make no mistakes. For if he did, they would all stumble with him.

A feeling he had long missed. The feeling of being in charge of young men and leading them into battle. Fighting beside them. Cheering at victory. Howling in remembrance. Dormant emotions he hadn’t felt since the Great War welled within his chest. His blood boiled with excitement as his mind whirled under the pressure of it all. The contradictions reminded him that he was alive, that he was still capable of more.

“Careful!” Mur shouted, his hand snatching a Maedra that tried to strike an Oryx in their blind spot. He tossed the creature into another before smashing them both.

“Mur!” A desperate voice howled from his left, drawing the Daemon’s attention.

In that window, a Maedra jumped at the chance to strike. The creature latched onto the Daemon’s arm and dug its claws and fangs into his thick flesh. Blood leaked from the fresh wounds and Mur grimaced as searing pain washed over him. He glared at the beast clinging to him. With a powerful swing, Mur crashed his lower left fist into the side of the Maedra’s head. It whined at the pain and unlatched its jaws. Before it could bite him again, Mur gripped onto its head and squeezed, crushing the flesh and bone between his fingers.

Though, it wasn't dead. With its heart still functioning, its body continued to cling onto him. An unfortunate advantage of the foul beasts. Even without heads or limbs, their bodies continued to function. It was only when their crystals were crushed did the Maedra truly die.

Mur retracted his left hand and then swung his axe upwards, bisecting the beast from below. The crystal within it turned to dust and the lifeless form peeled away. Freed from the leach, he gave his arm a twist to check for additional damage before striking out at a few more Maedra in his immediate vicinity.

Shortly after, his attention was grabbed again by the same voice as before. “Mur!” He bought himself a few precious seconds and then tried looking again. What he saw made his stomach twist.

The left side of their forces was being routed. The Maedra force had effectively split through the left third, cutting them off from the rest of the defenders. While the Maedra had long shattered any semblance of a defensive front, the Oryx had at least been able to support one another across the battlefield. Allies were close by and could assist with fighting.

But now, the Maedra had overwhelmed a large section of Oryx fighters and was effectively devouring the entire left side of the force. Mur could already see Maedra sprinting down the corridor towards the distant Warrior Headquarters building.

“Keep fighting!” Mur roared. He was unable to help them now. It would be impossible for him to fight through the mess on his own and none of the warriors he was surrounded by were capable of doing so either. Their hands were tied. Running would only cause more of the Maedra to break through and more deaths.

A scowl stretched over Mur’s face as his eyes clouded. Pain shocked his jaw from how fiercely his teeth clenched together. The muscles strained within them as he felt tormented by his inability to move. He could do nothing for those people but hope the guardsmen stationed at their doors could hold out.

Taking another heavy swing with his axe, Mur cleared three more Maedra. His hammer followed to his right and then to his left. The ground thundered with both impacts. A heavy fist knocked a creature airborne and his axe swiftly cut it in half. Another hammer smash. Another axe cut. A grapple and toss. A crushing squeeze as he crushed a Maedra in his grip. His right hand, bloodied and unable to grasp anything, had become an effective club. By keeping his remaining fingers furled tight, he could smash and punch. His left hand remained capable of grappling. His arsenal kept the Maedra largely at bay but their numbers overwhelmed the Oryx.

The Oryx were falling in droves. Several men at a time were being pulled into the Maedra horde or trampled beneath their feet. Cries and pleas for mercy rang out as limbs were torn from their sockets. Swords, dulled by the thick flesh and fat of the Maedra, slowly became useless and ineffective.

The sands within the hourglass were becoming scarce. Mur had done all he could.

As his right flank crumbled and the last few Oryx began to be pushed down the corridor leading to the Scout Headquarters, Mur felt a lump build in his throat. He took a step back, catching a beast mid-jump. He smashed it into the stone. Yet before his hammer could fall, he was charged by two more and forced to back away. He cut them out of the air and then dared to take a step back for more space.

Suddenly, he felt crowded. The Daemon glanced over his shoulder and noticed that there was no longer any space behind him. Mere feet away, the archway leading into the Council building’s courtyard stood feebly.

There was no hiding it now. There was nowhere left to run.

Mur glared forward and cleared an arc in front of himself, catching three Maedra with his axe and two more with his hammer. He looked to his right and to his left. Maedra rushed in both directions, sprinting headlong down the roads towards the buildings where he could already see the final struggles happening in the distance.

He frowned and took a deep breath.

Time’s up.

“We’re close. I’m moving ahead!” Unable to contain himself any longer, the boy kicked his feet off the rocky floor. Wind blasted outwards from the balls of his feet, propelling him forward like a bullet. In an instant, he vanished into the darkness of the tunnel ahead of the platoon.

“The hell-?!” One of the men spat, surprised by the sudden burst of energy from the boy. A few of the others shared the sentiment, making their surprise apparent as they too verbalized their confusion.

“Keep running! Follow the lights!” Nuro shouted over the chatter.

Though Jake had vaulted beyond their direct sight, the boy left balls of light in his wake. The platoon continued to be guided by them as they illuminated the path forward. From what he could tell, there wasn’t much distance left to cover. However, if Jake could be there just a few moments sooner, he might be able to save one more person. That’s all he could hope for. Just one more.

As he closed in, the smell of rot flooded his nose. Jake returned the diverted mana to his eyes as his instincts reacted to the scent. The shift expanded his visual range once more. The view ahead cleared of black and into view came dozens of Maedra sprinting in the opposite direction, frenzied by something beyond the boy’s sight. He was caught off guard by how close they were and his speed caused the gap to vanish in a blink. Reacting quickly, the boy used his magic rather than drawing his swords. Fire spears appeared at his fingertips, flaring to life with a roar. Two at a time, the spears tore through the Maedra bodies as he bulldozed through their numbers.

Hearing the explosions and shrill sounds behind them, the rushing Maedra horde turned in time to see their final moment flash before their eyes. Capitalizing on the surprise attack and not wanting to get bogged down, the boy didn’t give any of them a chance to react. He filled the tunnel with heat and rage, blowing them apart with violent precision. If he missed, he at least made sure to cause enough damage to make the dismembered scraps easy to deal with. Jake didn’t have the luxury of slowing down or stopping.

Before he knew it, the exit of the tunnel came into view as the first traces of light peeked through the dark veil. The number of Maedra clogging the tunnel soured the taste of the air and caused the boy’s stomach to twist. He barreled through them, switching to Stone Breaker spells to speed up the process. He stopped aiming for kill shots and simply shredded them to pieces, leaving the emaciated bodies behind to be dealt with by the platoon.

He would apologize later.

The final bodies were cleared and the tunnel opened to the village cavern. Jake blasted apart the last handful of Maedra with a powerful volley of wind and fire, completely voiding his direct line of sight of enemy flesh. With his view clear, Jake stepped out onto the overlook to get a better look at the state of the vill-

-- “...”

---Jake froze. His mind stopped. His heart seized. His throat clogged as his stomach fell. His ears deafened. His arms fell limp at his sides.

Ewana was in pieces. Swathes of buildings had been reduced to piles of rubble. Towers lay toppled over. Corpses littered the remnants of the streets and alleyways. Maedra tore at the dead, ripping flesh from bone as they indulged in their spoils of war. A few Maedra bodies lay scattered but very few could be seen. Either the dead had already decayed to nothing or there weren’t many in the first place.

On the far side of the village, the grim fate of the village was even more apparent. The final desperate struggle of those left behind to guard the village was nothing more than a slaughter. The Maedra were overwhelming the remaining fighters. From what Jake could see, the headquarters buildings had been turned into bunkers where civilians were being protected.

The Maedra had overwhelmed the Warrior building and were trying to break down the doors. The defenders stationed at the Scout building were still standing but only a few guards were still fighting. The Maedra were in the process of finishing them off. The Council building was the only one that remained protected. The only reason for that was due to the hulking red figure standing at the doorway, keeping the Maedra from crossing into the courtyard.

A loud crashing noise echoed through the air, followed by the screams of innocents. The Warrior’s headquarters was breached and the Maedra flooded inside, unabated. Jake felt every muscle in his body ache as he watched the scene unfold.

Ewana had fallen.

“Jake!” The voice that reached his ears felt distant. Jake couldn’t turn to look at the owner. His eyes remained glued to the massacre below, watching as more and more Maedra piled into the gruesome scene unfolding before him. From every direction but a few, Maedra flowed into the cavern, racing towards the frenzy in hopes of getting a bite.

“Jake!” Along with footsteps, the voice closed in until the rest of the platoon reached him. One by one, they filed out of the tunnel and stepped out onto the overlook. As each laid their eyes on the carnage below, they too froze in place. Witnesses to the end of the place they cherished most.

“...No.” One of the men mumbled. Jake heard metal meet stone as a few collapsed. None dared shout or scream. None dared charge forth foolishly. Paralyzed. Unable to change the outcome. Pitifully, they could do nothing but observe.

As he watched, Jake’s hands curled into fists.

“I won’t let people die if I can help it.” Familiar words he had spoken echoed in the back of his mind.

“Then you must be strong enough to make that choice.” A bold statement, spoken to him by the one he held dear.

“The burden of your ill results will weigh on your heels. So you must be quick.” As the cries of the civilians dug into his eardrums, Jake felt his chest burn. The numbness in his legs faded. He felt the urge to jump swell within him.

“Hesitation means death.”

Jake’s teeth gritted together and his eyes narrowed. He felt the power within his core flow outwards once more.

“Even in the direst of moments, your kind has always found a way to survive.”

Jake grabbed his Elven blades, tearing them from their sheaths as he leaned forward.

“Jake?!” Nuro noticed, but he noticed too late. Jake was already moving. The boy stepped onto the edge of the ledge, mana coursing through his fingers and leaking into the air all around him.

“I refuse to let it end!” Jake snapped, shoving off the ledge and rocketing forward. He soared through the air and began unleashing magic spells on the Maedra below. Fire, Wind, and even Water spells smashed into the sturdy stone floor. Maedra screams filled the air as the boy landed on the remains of a structure. He swirled around, fire spears blasting out of his palms and fingertips as he smashed tunnel after tunnel. The heavy impacts collapsed the open mouths, cutting off the Maedra trying to enter. From there, Jake targeted those heading toward the village.

Feeding more mana than ever into his spells, he doubled their size and increased their explosive strength. Each impact of a fire spear cratered the earth. Each Stone Breaker shattered the thick crust and left gouges behind. Fueled by hate, Jake obliterated the Maedra and gave them no chance to hide.

The village had fallen, but Jake refused to just roll over and let the Maedra win outright. He would kill every single one of them. He wouldn’t let the village crumble without returning the favor.

“MUR!!!” Jake turned and screamed over the noise radiating from the village. He locked his eyes on the distant Daemon, centered the ally in his vision, and then catapulted himself into the sky towards them. There were only a handful of Oryx defenders left.

His mana flow thundered as he blew apart the Maedra sprinting through the village. The cries of their deaths fell on deaf ears as Jake mercilessly tore them apart. In between bounds towards Mur, Jake used his blades to carve apart any brave Maedra that dared to try and attack him. Their falling, lifeless bodies were then burned to ash by his magic.

With one final jump, Jake launched himself over the street leading towards the main intersection where Mur was struggling to stand. The boy pummeled the back line of the Maedra. Their foul bodies were immediately engulfed in swaths of fire and scattered by gales of powerful winds. He erected massive stone walls, sealing off the pathways leading to the headquarters buildings and boxing in the remaining enemies. He then rushed off after the Maedra headed towards the Warrior building. With its doors already breached, Jake prioritized it first.

The inferno expanded. Using the passage as a funnel, Jake flooded the space with flame and cooked the Maedra within it. Those that were in the courtyard already were crushed with Stone Breaker spells. The fallen bodies of the Maedra littered the stone, their limbs scattered and bodies twisted in grotesque angles. Jake ignored all of it, rushing past the evidence of his rage, and charged into the Scout building. The people within were shouting, screaming, and running away from the Maedra. Dozens were already being gorged on. Children. Women. Elders. The Maedra didn’t care, and neither would Jake.

Brandishing his swords, Jake leapt into the frenzy and began striking any rotting corpse that moved. The Maedra close enough to notice and feel threatened screeched, their voices scratching at his eardrums as they warned their comrades. Dozens of Maedra emerged from around the building, all now focused on the lone threat. Jake ignored their yelling. Feeling nothing but the burning within his heart, the boy took them all head on. Without hesitation he reduced them all to bloodied rags.

Utilizing his Sensory magic, the boy tracked down every Maedra that had entered the building. Like a dog following a scent, he searched every room. Every corner. Every crevice. He ignored the pleas of the civilians and remained stoic as he passed over the dead. The only thing on his mind was killing the Maedra. Once his blades were soaked in the gushing insides of the last foe, Jake immediately leapt down from the second level and rushed back outside to continue his hunt.

The Maedra at the Scout building were much easier to handle. With the doors still closed, the boy only had to annihilate the creatures that were outside. Caught in the open and with no cover, Jake made easy work of the threat. No guards were still standing. All of them lay motionless, their bodies already ravaged. Silently, Jake left them behind and turned his attention to the final location.

Mur remained in the center of the final circle. The handful of Oryx Jake had originally seen now numbered barely ten. While the Maedra were nearly four times that number. The boy landed on top of a wall overlooking the fight and knelt down. Feeding mana into the floor, Jake erected a massive fire wall in front of the defenders. He couldn’t put it right on top of them, so they still had a few Maedra to fight, but the remaining foes were cut off and isolated.

“Die.” Jake spat. His fingers dug into the stone as he unleashed a massive wave of mana through the ground. The passage cracked as the floor became a deadly mass of spikes. Dozens shot upwards, skewering the Maedra caught in the trap. A large majority were simply lifted off their feet and dangled helplessly in the air but a few had their crystals pierced. Those that remained alive fell victim to a near ceaseless barrage of fireballs.

Jake burned them and reveled in their pain-filled screams. He didn’t outright target their crystals either. Instead, he chose to kill them all slowly. Giving them all plenty of time to embrace the pain of death. He burned them alive and melted their flesh and bones. Without even a shred of regret or doubt, Jake stood up and watched.

Mur and his remaining defenders killed the last of the Maedra they had to deal with and Nuro’s platoon had finally made it to the entrance of the street. The fire wall protecting Mur and his men fell away as the source of mana feeding it drained, exposing them to the violent scene. No one dared to enter the ground between them. They too watched as the orange and red lights flared on.

Though the battle was now effectively over, there were no screams of joy or cheers. Those that had survived simply watched as the glow of fire reflected in the eyes of one boy.

A boy whose heart screamed as loudly as the burning Maedra they peered down upon.