Chapter Five: Ir’Agera


    Screeching cries like nails on a chalkboard mixed with the scream to create a cacophony of horror and chaos. Ash looked around, backing up. He saw Uncle Derrick stand, and he yelled loudly over the noise,


    “Everyone! Hear me! Go out the back! Do not run! But be quick! Move!”


    Amalia stepped forward, staff in hand, to meet a creature out of a nightmare. It was the size of a large dog, standing upright, with puss-colored scales, beady eyes like mud balls, and an elongated snout that opened to reveal rows of fangs. It wielded a crude spear and was dressed in tattered leather.


    It lashed out with a cry at Amalia, who calmly batted the attack away, moved her body like flowing water, and swept the monster’s legs out from under it.


    With a sharp jab, the end of her staff sank into its eye with a sickening, slick, moist sound. Green slime burst forth, and the creature thrashed, screeching horribly before going still.


    As Amalia engaged the monster, the people began to leave, children being swept up into their parents’ arms.


    Before Ash could follow, Amalia’s voice, colder than the frigid waters of a lake, stopped him.


    “Ash, with me.”


    “But..”


    Her violet eyes hardened, and Ash swallowed his words. He pulled at Rosalia, standing stalk still like an ice sculpture. She shook herself, looking around before following him.


    “What’s going on?” She asked, her brows furrowing with worry, her hands shaking.


    “Follow, but not too closely,” was all Amalia said.


    They went outside, and Ash cried out.


    All of the sheep were dead—a bloody mass of white and shredded skin. Wolves howled in the distance as creatures like the one Amalia had just killed flooded the area.


    A roar echoed through the land, so grotesque that Ash shivered at hearing it.


    “No..” Amalia whispered to herself.


    A shadow descended over the farm, and stygian fire fell from the sky in a wave that ate at the land, burning the stables and fields in dark purple.


    Descending, Ash’s mouth fell open as he realized the massive shadow was a monster. Great wings folded against a serpentine body, scales painted midnight blue shone in the moonlight. Its angular head had two great black horns curling from it, and its eyes were glittering rubies, reflecting the blood and fire around them.


    A man slid down from the creature.


    He wore dark clothes, a blade-like crushed pearls, and silver light in his hands. His features were a distorted version of a warrior king, and his skin was dark mahogany. His eyes were cinder orbs, and a cruel smile curled his lips as he stalked forward. His hair was the precise shade of the scales on the creature behind him. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    “Stay behind me, children,” Amalia said firmly, standing tall.


    “No, Amalia, take them and go.”


    Ash turned, eyes widening. Uncle Derrick walked up, looking broken and haggard.


    “Uncle Derrick? What happened?”


    Tears were streaming calmly from his eyes as he stared at the man walking toward them.


    “Dara is dead. Those creatures were waiting for us behind the house. Like they knew we’d go that way. Villagers are scattered, being chased down by those things.”


    He pointed,


    “Go, Amalia. Take the kids. Leave this one to me.”


    Amalia shook her head,


    “He will kill you.”


    Derrick smiled grimly,


    “Yes. But he’ll have to earn it. We knew this day would come. I knew something was off, but I ignored the signs.”


    Derrick looked over at Ash; something he couldn’t identify was in his Uncle’s eyes.


    “I love you, lad. Always have. Now go, get out of here. Save who you can.”


    “Uncle, no!” Ash screamed. Rosalia began to cry.


    Amalia stared at Derrick for a moment and then took a breath.


    “Hail, warrior.” She said softly.


    His Uncle Derrick stood straighter, and he pulled his sword from somewhere Ash couldn’t see. He walked forward to meet the cinder-eyed man.


    “An old soldier,” the man muttered.


    “But not the one.”


    His cruel smile grew, and he lifted his blade.


    Amalia gestured at them,


    “Let’s go. Move!” She hissed.


    Ash didn’t want to leave his Uncle, but he was swept along.


    Away from the burning farm.


    Away from his Uncle, who raised his blade, blurring toward the dark figure like a rushing wave.


    Blood painted the air. His Uncle’s body fell to the ground.


    Ash cried out as they ran.


    And ran.


    ____________


    He had no idea how long they ran, but they heard a cry of fury some miles away.


    “Get away from me, you light-fucked lizards!”


    “That’s Nick!” Ash called, pointing down the road.


    Sure enough, his stout dwarven friend was waving his hammer about at three of the lizard-like creatures who hissed and clicked their tongues at him, spears at the ready.


    Amalia held out a hand for them to stay, and a feint violet glow surrounded her as she moved like a dark bolt, white staff flashing.


    Ash had no idea what happened.


    It wasn’t even a fight. Amalia’s form was a shadowy blur of violet and white, and suddenly, the monsters were dead, Nick standing there with his hammer and mouth open.


    “Wow. Right then, the storyteller is a fucking badass. Who would have guessed that one, eh?”


    He slipped his hammer back into his belt, nodding to Amalia.


    “My thanks, storyteller.”


    Amalia flicked a hand,


    “You should follow us. We are leaving.”


    Nick shook his head,


    “Not until I check on Will. These things…” Ash saw him swallow, looking away,


    “They speared my Ma’. Will couldn’t make it tonight, his Pa is sick. I’m going to check on them.”


    His voice was firm.


    Amalia shook her head,


    “I’m sorry, child, but he’s dead. Better you come with us.”


    Ash planted his feet,


    “You can’t know that.”


    The storyteller turned to look at him, and Ash found it hard to continue. But he did.


    “You can’t know that he’s dead. We should look. Will is a friend, and if you don’t go, I am.”


    Rosalia still looked scared, but the red-haired girl nodded,


    “Me too.”


    Amalia sighed, but her staff grinding into the dirt.


    “Children, make no mistake, I can make you come with me.”


    Ash crossed his arms, a familiar stubbornness coming over him.


    “Yeah? How easy is that? Dragging three unwilling kids along with you, screaming and making a fuss. It’s much easier for you to look with us. Besides, you aren’t our parent.”


    A dark look crossed her eyes,


    “No, I’m not. I’m just the one who saved you. But fine, you are right that expending the energy to force you is unwise. We will see if young Will is alive.”


    Nick’s face relaxed, his relief evident.


    “Thank you. Come on, it’s not far.”


    Ash had visited Will’s farm before, and they all had. They walked at a quick pace.


    Will’s farm was on fire, with purple smoke rising into the sky.


    The lizard monsters hissed at a tree. On a high branch, Will stood, a bow in his hands.


    He fired an arrow, and it pierced a lizard creature’s chest.


    “Back ya filthy monsters! Or ya’ll get another arrow, I swear it!”


    “Thank the Light, he’s fucking alive!” Nick whooped.


    Amalia growled,


    “You idiot child!”


    The monsters turned from the tree and set their malicious sights on the group.


    “Well, fuck.” Nick muttered.