Trouble in Yevelle

The castle walls begin to show on the horizon, backed by a dark blue shade that fades into blackness, signaling the upcoming day. The castle is bright, glowing with a more profound aura around it than I am used to seeing. The royal families are celebrating Yevelle’s 175th year since seizing the land from the hands of indigenous barbaric tribes, back in 1.40.2. I presume revelries will keep the castle up all night. The tales of such battles are oft exaggerated, declaring that warriors of these lands had the power to bend the forces of nature around them to inflict harm upon their enemies. A legend comes to mind, where a shamanistic warrior from the tribe of Glu’Dache single handedly eradicated over 40 Yevelle soldiers by alighting the forest, engulfing it in flames with a simple wave of his hand. Two scouts alongside the troops survived to tell the tale. Since, bards and the like have been passing down the tales for nearly two centuries. 

I begin to tread the farmland beyond the castle walls. The peasants tend to these parcels of land to provide the resources necessary to feed the Yevelle army and nobility. In exchange, the tax-collected funds pay for their services, albeit just enough to get by. Beyond the rustle of my footsteps, I hear something faint and of a high pitch in the distance. I stop, eliminating the muffle my footsteps cause. The fields, scattered with humble residencies for the peasants, wield an uneasy stillness, as if forcibly hushed for my own benefit. Unable to discern any inconsistencies, I begin walking again, wary of my surroundings. Breaking the stillness, a woman can be heard shouting. Of what she is saying, I cannot tell, but her garbled words seem to be frantic. I begin to run toward the source of the shouting, determined to sate my curiosity. 

The arrhythmic beat of footsteps paired with heavy breathing comes within distance of hearing, and I can tell the woman is injured. Selfishly, before detection, I crouch behind a patch of overgrown weeds to conceal myself, in case her attackers are in pursuit. I reach onto my back to arm myself with my bow, only to realize that it is missing. It dawns on me that I left it at Davin’s in my haste, and only wield the two daggers on my sides.

The already pronounced footsteps get louder, and the woman is seemingly out of breath. Through the thick bladed leaves, the woman appears in my view, ready to collapse from exhaustion. As her legs are about to give out, the woman sees me and reaches out as if pleading for a helping hand. I extend my hand in return, and beckon her to come to where I crouch. The crack of bones and smell of blood floods my senses as the woman lurches forward, eyes agape. I quickly react by concealing myself once again, as she collapses forward. An axe has been thrown into her back, and now stands erected upon it. 

A boisterous laugh comes from where the woman was running. “Got ‘er!” Heavier footsteps enter my vicinity, and I ready my blades. 

The two figures are enormous in size, almost double that of an average man. The figures are dark, and have an aura of blackness that seems to permeate around them. These... creatures... are unlike any I have seen, yet share such a resemblance to humans in structure. “These worthless piles of flesh go down easy,” another voice bellows. He lets out a large growl that nearly shakes the ground he walks on. “Come, let us bring her and the others to Sava’Velinta, and inform the council we have taken Yevelle.”

My heart thumps in my chest so prominently that it feels as if it is trying to escape. As calmly as possible, I conceal my face back into the shrub I have hidden myself within. Ben had come here, and I must find him. 

One of the dark creatures picks up the woman and slings her over his shoulder. “You grab the one over there,” he orders the other demonic-looking entity, whilst pointing the opposite direction of me. “He was a warrior, probably has some chance at good blood.”

The comment by the being made my skin crawl. I felt an uneasiness come over me at the idea that these creatures harvest blood from humans. I cannot possibly think of the reason, nor do I wish to.

The entities finally wander into the forest around the perimeter of the farms, and fade out of sight. I come out of hiding, with my lack of sleep starting to take a noticeable effect on my durability. The sun has peeked beyond the castle, harassing me with its brightness on my sensitive, tired, and awe-stricken eyes. Adjusting to the brightness of the sun, I see that the entities were not exaggerating regarding the destruction of Yevelle. The light of the day illuminates the plumes of smoke that before disguised itself against the darkness of the night. With a spontaneous spur of energy, I begin running towards Yevelle, oblivious to my deprivation of sleep. 

Ben’s pursuit begins to appear as fruitless. My hope dwindles and I am overridden with guilt and anguish. My legs begin to fail me as I run, buckling under the stress of my thoughts. I slow to walk, and stop in place. My mind wanders more intensely as I near the city, as if the creatures left behind a shadowy residue that envelopes my mind to only project dark thoughts. The effect it has on me is terrifying. The image of the woman appears in my mind. She was helpless and I did nothing but cower away to save my own skin. Truly, I am no better than those I seek justice from. 

My feet shuffle beneath me, unaware of my mind commanding them to pick up. Traversing to the gate in a dazed state, my thoughts wander to my family, Ardula, Ben, and the woman, all clouding my perseverance. Is this an effect of the dark creatures? Am I in shock? Before I know it, I make it to the castle portcullis, and proceed inside.

I collapse.

I find myself waking in a familiar place. In a daze, I gaze upon the room. This is Vale, my old room. My old bed. I look over to the bed set alongside the opposite wall of me to find Ben asleep upon it. In the room, I rush over to the mirror placed on the wall and see myself: a scrawny white-haired kid, 13 years of age. 

Mother calls to us to wake up. Ben stirs and rolls out of bed. He looks at me with half-open eyes and nods in my direction as a silent way of saying good morning. We begin to head downstairs and Ben suddenly turns to me, eyes wide as if just suddenly acquiring awareness. Because we have always had to rely on one another, we have learned to read the other’s body language quite well. His eyes seem to tell that he knows something is wrong, and he shakes his head slowly back and forth. I try to speak, but find myself unable to make words audible. He shakes his head no once again, and mouths the words “You can’t”. Before we proceed down the stairs, Ben takes me to the window that allows us to see over most of the buildings in our direct vicinity. He looks through the window, as if searching for something, and his eyes widen as he points outside.

Directly across the road stands a vacant house, and beyond that is a house that lies on the perimeter of the town’s border. I look closer at this building as it catches my attention that the door seems it was forced off its hinges. I look through the window on the house to see if I can detect what is happening. I glance over at Ben, and a look of worry has taken over any other form of expression, as he stares into the house. My attention returns to the suspicious house, back upon the second-story window. A spatter of blood collides with the window, and causes me to startle. 

A fear seeps in me that I wish I could have forgotten. In full awareness, we will be reenacting the day our home town was raided and parents were taken from us. Ben’s eyes remain fixated on the house in question, but now upon the kicked in door. Stumbling clumsily out of the doorway, a man comes out of the house with an axe wedged into his shoulder blade. He pulls the axe out of his shoulder and starts toward the vacant house, stumbling along the way. I begin to notice something peculiar about the man. His skin has darkened to a degree and his wound seems to be mending itself. 

The man now suddenly acquires precise enough coordination to run effectively, which strikes me as very odd. He then runs around from the back of the vacant house towards our house, and a terrifying memory overwhelms my mind. I look at Ben and start to pull him along with me down the stairs. I hesitate after touching his skin, as it is cold as ice. I look at him with perplexity and proceed to try to drag him along with me. He simply resists, being a lot bigger than I am, and shakes his head no with the same dulled expression of worry. I let go of him and run downstairs, and stop to a standstill once I realize that my father now lay on the ground, lifeless, and my mother is gone from the scene. I sob over my father, oblivious to the chaos that is ensuing outside the door. My wallowing is interrupting when the vacant house across the street catches fire and ignites a loud explosion. I run to Ben upstairs and look out the window.

The town, in a matter of seconds, has erupted into flames.  

Water drenches me and I quickly jump up and ready my blade from its sheathe. A girl, with brunette hair pulled back, standing slightly shorter than I, looks at me with a shocked expression.

“Whoa, whoa!” the girl exclaims, backing away. “You were convulsing and sweating, so I grabbed water from the well to wake you!”

“Who are you? What happened here?” I say defensively with a blade now in each hand.

The girl sighs and sits on the ground. “I’m Victrina. As for what happened here... it’s hard to explain.” She seems uncomfortable at the idea of remembering it. “These... things. I’m not exactly sure what they are. They’re defiled, corrupted and evil looking things. They... attacked the city. Came out of nowhere. Just two of them. Anyone they saw, they killed without hesitation. It was sickening.”

“I have seen these creatures.” I remark. “I overheard two discussing returning to bring the bodies back to their leaders. How long has it been since the attack?”

“I suppose it’s been about an hour. I have been searching for any survivors I can find. Have checked most of the buildings outside of the palace, here, but haven’t found anyone. Do you... Do you think it’s not safe here?”

“I’m not entirely sure. They will be back, but I’m clueless as to when that would be. I would like to search the palace for survivors before giving up, however.”

“Let me join you.”

“Why would you want to join me?” I inquire, skeptically. “You should just leave this place, in case they come back or there are threats about within the palace.”

“I don’t... have anywhere to go. Or...” Her nose wrinkles and tears well up in her eyes. “or family to turn to.”

My nightmare comes fresh to memory, and I forcibly clear it from my head. “You may come along with me, for now.”

We begin walking towards the palace, and my dark thoughts seem to have subsided, though I’m still a little shaken from the vivid dream-like state I experienced. To distract my mind, I try to get to know the person tagging along. Whether she be friend or potential threat, I may be able to deduct by knowing her. “So, Victrina, what did you do around Yevelle? Adopt any trade skills?”

“I... made butter and soap with my mother, and sold it here in town.”

I can see her fighting a great deal of emotional pain. “You lost them in the attack?” I look down, relating to her troubles. Though, her wounds are fresh and mine are merely scars. “I’m... sorry.”

She looks at me with curiosity, and wipes her eyes with her cloth sleeve. “Have you... lost someone in this, too?” 

“No, I did not. My parents are not around here.” I deliberately lead her astray, wary still. 

“I... see.”