For a moment, Sojourn had forgotten about the carnage. The thrill of figuring out a puzzle and handling the weapons had made him blank on the events that had happened. Breaking back into the town borders, he staggered. Fire no longer seemed to crackle, but the smell of death darn near broke him. He fought to stay on his feet. He fought to stay running to Anaphora and his father. Then, he saw a shadow creature. Then, he fought for his own life.

Leaving the newly acquired weapons on his back, Sojourn drew his stiletto daggers from his sleeves. The creature hadn’t seen him yet, though it seemed to be on the prowl for survivors. As Sojourn crept towards it, he recalled the carvings on the mausoleum. This shadow before him looked to be a spawn of Anisha. Though a mere fraction of the alpha’s size, this Anishan had the same long nose that snuffled on the ground, rooting through scents. It walked on two stocky hind legs with two other front ones, longer and narrower, dragging on the ground behind. Closer and closer, Sojourn stalked. He took inventory of the Anishan’s weak points. Two purple, shadowy orbs located on its front shoulders, and one in the centre of the creature’s chest. Without a sound, Sojourn reacted. A knife went whistling through the air, striking the Anishan in the right orb. It turned, suddenly, towards its attacker, it’s trunk flailing wildly as it searched the air for smells. The Anishan’s face had no eyes as it relied solely on its sensitive sense of smell.

Sojourn was ready for it. These looked like slow beings but instead were quite speedy. The shadow’s lumbering turned to streamline movement, running on three limbs, the wounded one dragging behind by its fractured orb, and trunk still searching the air. As it drew closer, it reared up on its back legs and swung its long, spindly arm reached to grab Sojourn. That was this creature’s downfall. Going from being completely still, Sojourn moved. He ducked under the outstretched arm then jumped, his feet landing on the raging shadow. In the jump, Sojourn’s second dagger found its home in the Anishan’s centre orb. The instant his blade got purchase, he was reaching for the dagger he had thrown, still embedded in the right shoulder. It only took another second for Sojourn to wrench his blade free, twist back around and slam it into the remaining orb. The next instant, the creature was dissipating as smoke on the ground around Sojourn’s feet after he landed gracefully.

That whole exchange from the first dagger thrown took maybe five seconds. Sojourn looked around, guard up. He didn’t sense any other beings near him. Taking a second to dust himself off and straighten his tunic, Sojourn began running once again.

He came across a few more Anishan, but they seemed to be the only creatures left lingering in the dead town. Each one he approached similarly; they were more focused on finding and consuming the dead, assuming that nothing living was left. The delays frustrated Sojourn in his desperation to get to those he cared for.

Coming around a corner, Sojourn came suddenly into the town square. Anaphora was not there. Sojourn’s mind spiralled into a panic. There were no bodies, no more blood than what was there before. There seemed to be no sign of either the intruder or Anaphora. Small signs of a scuffled were apparent to Sojourn's keen elven eyes. A smeared puddle of blood here, a dislodged cobblestone there, but no sign of life or new death.

A groan of pain brought Sojourn back to himself, and he spun quickly on his heel. Propped up against a house along the perimeter of the square was his father. Swiftly, Sojourn ran to his side with a shout, “Father!”

Sojourn dropped to his knees, not feeling the painful crack as his joints connected with the cobblestones. He bundled his Father in his arms, rocking back and forth, whispering, “Father, Father? Please be okay, please.”

There was another groan of pain, but Akroor opened his eyes. “My son?” Akroor's eyes focused on Sojourn’s face with a small, sad smile. “Sojourn, it is you. Quick! You need to leave, everyone,” coughs wracked his frame. Blood bloomed between his lips, drawing Sojourn's gaze to Akroor’s side where a large splotch of blood covered his shirt. “Everyone is dead. Leave, live, be safe.”

“I am safe, Father, and I will save you and everyone who may be alive. I found the Champion; she’s here with me; I brought her to the village.”

Coughs once again wreaked havoc. When they subsided, he reached out a weak hand to Sojourn’s cheek, “no, my son. There is no saving us. Leave, get the weapons, save the world.” Blood sprayed onto Sojourn's face as Akroor held desperately onto life.

“Father, it’ll be okay. I have the weapons here. They are so beautiful. I have found the Champion, she has a long way to go and is afraid of her future, but I will be there. Because of you, father, I can help her.”

A smile bloomed on Akroor’s face, his eyes clearing for a moment. “Sojourn, my boy, oh my boy. I knew you could do it.” Pain darkened Akroor’s irises as a violent shudder racked his body. “You were the best of us; the world is now your responsibility. I-I love you, my son, but this village has served its purpose. It’s time to leave and go to the Champion, write the story you were always meant to.”

A soft smile crossed the man's face. The moment was disrupted by a squeaky caw and Cetus landing on Sojourn’s shoulder. With excited chattering, the animal grabbed onto the cowl of Sojourn’s cloak and started tugging.

“Go. If I am meant to survive, I will. You are needed elsewhere.”

Sojourn stood, looking down at his father. He paused, his mouth set into a hard line while staring into the other man’s eyes, contemplating. With a final nod, Sojourn turned, following Cetus, who kept into the air. He didn’t look back, afraid that that was all it would take to make him go back and try to save his father.

***

Cetus flew just ahead of Sojourn, flying only as fast as his partner could follow. While Anaphora seemed to trust the new fellow, Cetus did not, and when they ran off, he knew he had to fetch the elf. He knew that Sojourn would return and that if the new friend proved to be untrustworthy, Anaphora would need help. They hadn’t gone far, just outside the village when the snow started falling. Cetus cawed in annoyance as the pair had to slow their pace. While Sojourn was graceful in the knee-deep snow, it still hampered their progress.

Anaphora had stopped to make camp just inside the tree line, so, though slower, it didn’t take long for Sojourn and the squawl to reach where the camp should be. Only they weren’t there. Cetus stopped, swooping to land on a branch at Sojourn’s eye level.

“Where is she,” Sojourn asked?

Cetus only chittered, his arms moving in a gesture of confusion.

“This is where you left her?”

A nod came from the animal.

“I’ll look for a trail.” Sojourn’s delicate eyes scanned the trees. He saw where she had entered the forest, mentally noting the second pair of footsteps. The trail appeared to pause where the snow was significantly more trodden as if they spent a bit of time here. Sojourn growled in frustration. The snow was still falling in thick, heavy flakes, quickly and effectively covering any tracks leaving the area. He’d have to find the trail soon, or it would be gone. He turned in circles, looking for any clue, though they seemed oddly absent. Or so he thought. There was a faint trampling of leaves at the underbrush and a little less snow on the foliage.

“There,” he pointed before following the disturbances. Just before he ducked into the foliage, Cetus landed on his shoulder.

“Well,” Sojourn said to Cetus. “Here’s hoping this leads to Anaphora.”

After a couple minutes of bushwhacking, Sojourn saw a thinning of trees ahead. He crept to the edge of the clearing, hoping beyond hope that he wasn’t following a false trail.

Luck was on his side. In the centre of the clearing, Sojourn saw a camp with a blazing fire. On the far side sat Anaphora. Sojourn’s relief was short-lived as another figure stepped into his view. The firelight caught the stranger’s eyes, flashing a deep brown. Rage filled Sojourn as he recognized those eyes.

Throwing the Champion’s weapons from his back, he drew his cleavers, bursting into the clearing. The two people in the clearing turned at the sudden noise just as Sojourn's weight crashed into Aldwin. Sitting on Aldwin’s chest, Sojourn held the cleavers at his throat.

“What are you doing with him!” A look of betrayal transformed Sojourn's face from his usual handsome calm to an unfamiliar mask. “It’s all his fault! Everyone is dead because of him! How can you be here with him!”

Hands up, trying to pacify her friend, Anaphora spoke quietly. “It is not what you think, he-”

“Not what you think?” Sojourn aimed one cleaver at his friend as his other dug into Aldwin’s neck, drawing blood. “It was my family that he murdered! You ran away from yours; you can’t understand!”

“Sojourn, please, listen.”

“No! I don’t want to listen! He must pay for all the blood spilt.” With the intent to kill, Sojourn raised his blades, but before he could complete the blow, Anaphora threw herself into him.

Free from near death, Aldwin scrambled backwards and sat at the edge of the clearing with his hands on his neck, stopping the flowing blood. Before him, the two friends fought viciously.

Anaphora managed to knock one cleaver free as her body connected with Sojourn. Her advantage was short-lived as Sojourn twisted left, grabbing Anaphora in a headlock and flipping her into her back. Recovering quickly, the fire-eyed girl lunged at the remaining cleaver. For a short time, they fought, blow for blow, fueled on one side by rage and by a desire to reason on the other.

Clouded by anger, Sojourn violently lashed out with his weapon, the edge slicing deep across Anaphora’s cheek. Blood welled up from the long gash on her fair skin. As horror replaced the fury in Sojourn’s face, the cleaver dropped from numb fingers.

“I- I- I am so sorry, Ana.” Both of the men were on their feet, unsure of what to do next.

A confused hand went up to her cheek and came away coated in red. As blood streamed down her face, Anaphora looked at her companions and laughed. The white of her teeth was shocking against the blood.

From the trees, Cetus landed on her shoulder, tiny eyes inspecting the cut. Still frozen in place, Aldwin and Sojourn just watched as the girl and creature seemed to talk. After a moment, Anaphora reached up and patted her friend's head and turned her gaze to Sojourn.

“Now, are you ready to listen?”