“What kid?” Nyrielle’s voice was coated in intrigue. “Is there a child out there?” she said. “No, just some young mutt Finger with a big sword, he fought like a madman.” Everett recalled the events in his head. “There shouldn't be any Bloody Hands in the old town district, this is White Cloak territory.” Nyrielle’s voice trembled slightly at the realisation. “We are in danger if that is the case, the Cloaks will take in everyone on the block for questioning.” She reached for a bag as her daughters returned. “My loves, help get Abigail dressed, we leave, now!” Her voice was commanding and coated in concern. “What is going on?!” Everett spoke out of frustration, his emotions boiling over. How are we not out of this mess? He thought to himself. “We better get that young Finger in the house.” Nyrielle spoke aloud, ignoring Everette’s questioning. “The White Cloaks won’t be far behind.” Neesa had Abigail dressed with haste and was now grabbing supplies from the kitchen. Everett observed there were three large bags in the room. One on Nyrielle’s back and two more on the timber dining room table. They were prepared to leave, shit, this isn’t good. His thoughts clawed at his mind.

  Neesa returned from the kitchen and handed food to Oscar and Everett. “Supplies for the road.” Her sharp voice blared at the Smiths with a commanding tone. Oscar and Everett began stuffing their bags while looking on in bewilderment. The aelves moved with such haste and wistful grace, they almost floated in stride. As Nyrielle passed, Everett reached out and managed to grab her arm, he still had good reflexes. “What is going on?” he spoke through barred teeth. “Are we safe? I need to get Abigail back home.” His voice was desperate, he is beginning to realise that the nightmare was not yet over. She paused and faced Everett, “I fear the night is not over for you Everett.” She spoke calmly, her voice had softened, its tone wrapping Everett like a warm hug. She placed her hand over Everett’s trembling arm, “Please.” She spoke softly again, Everett realised he must look like a mad man. He pulled his arm away slowly, “I’m sorry.” he said, defeat had dulled his tone. “Since the beast incursions, the White Cloaks have placed their forces in the old district, completely leaving the poorer districts to the mercy of the beasts.” While Nyrielle spoke, Neesa picked up the slack and was preparing the supplies, bags, food, water and blankets. Everett realised that while the aelves had prepared for themselves, they were now fortifying their supplies for their newfound companions. “The incursions have been going on for months now, we must be in the fifth month, starting this week.” Everett was in shock. How could this be happening in the capital? He thought to himself. “The White Cloaks have been policing who comes in or out of the city, they have been heavy handed.” She pauses. “How did you get into the city?” She cocked an eyebrow as she faced Everett and Oscar. “Like we said earlier, we snuck in through the outer gate of the old district, now that I recall it however, I realise there was no one at the post.” Everret’s voice trailed as he came to the realisation. “There was no security at all?” Nyrielle’s voice raised, perplexed by this information. “Then you were let in, along with the beast.” She was monotone as she spoke, a change in voice from her previous curious tone. “What do you mean let in?” Everett was dumbfounded by the situation. “There have been rumours, that the White Cloaks have allowed the incursions. Or at the very least, are facilitating the conditions for the beasts to cross from the Outer Worlds, into the city. One could speculate till the world is claimed by ice, the reasoning. However, rich and poor alike have disappeared for ‘questioning’ and have never returned.” She spoke calmly, her methodical yet melodic pattern of speaking was enchanting, even if it brought terrible news. “The masses have no idea what’s going on, some think it’s a serial killer on the loose, or chalked up to people not wanting to be found. The White Cloaks have been creating rumours, cleaning messes and making people disappear” She had been checking the other bags while she spoke.

  “We need to get the Finger into the house.” Her voice jolted Everett from his stupor, he was overwhelmed by the news. “We can get him in.” Oscars scraggly vocals chimed in as he looked at Everett. “But what is the plan?” Everett spoke out again. “We all leave the city together, using the old tunnels that our house is connected to. The Finger will come with us, he might need to be carried, but if we are caught, we could use him as a bargaining chip.” Nyrielle’s warmness had been replaced with a cold and calculated facet of her personality that shocked Everett. “Where do we fit in the this?” Everett said, as he shot his brother a look of concern. “There’s strength in numbers and I implore you to accompany us.” Nyrielle’s voice responded. “You can obviously fight well enough to survive a beast.” Nyrielle approached Abigail and Everett stepped forward. “It’s alright.” Nyrielle’s warmer tone had returned. “I am not at full strength, being so far away from the wilds of nature has kept me weakened.” She raised her hand to Abigail and a bright green hue filled the room, Abigail sighed in relief as her wounds closed up. “T-thank you.” Abigail’s voice staggered and all of the Smiths looked in awe at the display, someone from the countryside could live their whole lives without seeing the practice of magik.

  “Are you a sorceress?” Abigail’s voice trembled slightly at the display of power. “No child, I practice the druidic arts, nature magik as it is known amongst your people.” Nyrielle smiled, the tender moment providing some sanctuary from the coming journey. “We need to get the young Finger into the house.” She returned to her commanding voice. “The street is still clear, Ev, we could go and grab the young mutt together.” Oscar said, as he looked through the barricaded windows. “We could grab some spears and any weapons we can fin- Shit!” He exclaimed, his sentence finishing on a sharp note. “David is still moving!” He continued. Everett came to the barricaded window and could see onto the street. There was gore splayed across the street, it had been flung across some of the house-fronts, like as if an artist had gone berserk with a scarlet paint. The Finger laid there motionless, along with two other men. Everett could see that Dave was looking around, keeping quiet and breathing heavily. He seemed dazed, just like he had come to consciousness. “We need to get them now!” Everett barked, the fire burning away the rust on his old bones. Both Oscar and Everett moved towards the front door, arming themselves with their hammers and knives. “Neesa, arm yourself and watch Isilira.” Everett heard Nyrielle’s voice as he bolted out the door.

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  Oscar and Everett hurried across the cobblestone street, they kept low to the ground hoping not to draw any attention. The air was still, no breeze licked their skin as they came up to Dave. “Oscar, Ev?” Dave’s voice had a slurred drawl to it, he had taken a fair bit of damage. He was putting pressure on his lower abdomen in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Everett recalled that Dave took the brunt of the first assault from the beast. He managed to go toe to toe with the beast for a few moments, and in an act of desperation, Dave had attempted to pull one of its arms down to the ground to pin the beast. The beast managed to break free of Dave and flung him across the street, having him land where he is now, leaning back against some wooden crates that cushioned his fall. Better wooden crates than this cobblestone, Everette thought to himself. Dave ran the local tavern in Brimholt, the Plough, it had been his dream to finally stop tending the fields and build the modest tavern. The Plough is the premier watering hole of the township, featuring Dave’s famous one hundred year old soup and teeth breaking bread. While its a little rough around the edges, the tavern provides reprieve for the township and brings the community together. The locals arrive before sunup, and return on sundown, the start and end of their working days.

  Dave’s physique dwarfed that of the Smith brothers, his time working the fields in terrible heat had carved a monster of a man. Tall and strong, the man could eat you out of house and home, which he would often do during a good harvest season. Gone was his strength and his sly sense of humour, he had been diminished to a slurring collapsed mess. His legs were haphazardly strewn in front of him, deep cuts had torn through his trousers and his dark skin. “Dave? Can you hear me?” Everett’s voice left his mouth, but didn’t feel like it was his. Everett did not have time during the initial fray to see the damage that was done to his countrymen. Everett felt his eyes widen at the remnants of the battle laid before him. What a fucking mess. He thought to himself. “I can hear you, I wish I couldn't.” Dave chuckled and then sputtered as he coughed. “That big pooch did a number on me! You better tell the ladies at home how big that ole dog was!” He laughed weakly, his humour had come through, however, Everett believed the humour was an attempt to mask the fear of mortality.

  “Well, fucking carry me home lads, lets get out of he-” Dave words were cut short as a pair of small nimble hands were upon him. Nyrielle had joined them, Everett had forgotten how quiet the aelves were. “What th-” Dave was cut off again, as a green hue erupted from the aelves slender hands. Dave’s eyes widened as his wounds closed up and then he cocked an eyebrow at the Smith brothers. “The girls back home can’t do that!” He laughed again, this time, without choking. “How do you feel? I fear my abilities are waning tonight.” Nyrielle still had her hand on Dave’s abdomen, she looked at him with care in her eyes. “You’re an aelf…” Dave’s words trailed off as he looked at her face wide eyed. Everett couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the tender moment. “Alright Dave, enough perving.” Oscar moved forward and grabbed Dave under his armpit. “Up ya get ya big bastard.” Everett rushed over and joined Oscar in an attempt to lift Dave up, however, Dave slowly got up on his feet without putting much weight on the Smith brothers. “T-thank you.” Dave spoke to Nyrielle as he towered over her. “Ya not often speechless ya big cow.” Oscar’s voice grated through the air as he smacked Dave on the back.

  “Now quickly, the young Finger.” Nyrielle cut the nice reunion short and they all ran over towards the young man. “Alright, everyone grab him together an-” Nyrielle’s words were cut short as Dave hauled the young Finger over his shoulder, like a hunter would carry a dead deer. “Nevermind, grab what supplies you can.” Her voice compelled Everett and Oscar to grab the leftover spears, knives and any rations they could find. Everett looked over the two men who had perished in the pursuit of his daughters kidnappers. He knew both of them well, Tom the hunter and Bill the lumberjack. Both were decent men, men whom he had shared meals and shelter with and both treated Abigail like one of their own. Everett felt his eyes well up, but he pushed those thoughts away as he said a prayer for them. “We men of Brimholt, come from dust and return to dust, may we become part of the dirt that seeds are planted in, may the trees that sprout be tall and strong, and may the fruit be sweet for our children, and their children.” His heart broke knowing that the men would not return to the soil of home, but this will have to do. Grabbing one of the axes off the ground, Everett chopped off a hand of each of the men.