A BANDIT RAID… Mika was flabbergasted. She slid down the pile. Something splashed at her feet. A puddle of blood? No, a river of blood…. MOM? Her body went icy at the mere thought of her mom getting hurt. She was weak, tired and, most of all, her cramped calf was throbbing—which felt as if someone had tied her nerves to two galloping horses.

Yet she sprinted away towards her house—hoping for the best, that her mom would be fine. MOM, ARE YOU ALRIGHT? The thick black cloud of smoke ahead blocked her vision. There might be bandits on the other side… Knowing the fact that she might get caught, she still charged through the cloud, hasty as usual. She pressed on the brakes to the dismal state of the only place she could call home. A burning mess.

The roof was on fire, and the door was broken. The west-facing wall was no more. She ran straight through the door, yelling. “MOM?” The wood was collapsing in her voice. Arrows stuck to the flooring. Blood strained footprints and trails littered in and around the house. The cot was missing all its legs. “MOM! IT’S ME! MIKA!”

She tracked the footprints which lead outside. This has to be it! She rushed towards the exit and suddenly, the roof came crashing down on her. As a last-ditch effort, she blindly leapt forward—but the debris caught her left leg. The very leg that was cramped, stabbed by thorns.

She looked back. “NONONONO…” She screamed to the nail plank which penetrated her left calf. Yet she crawled out of the fiery depth of the room and outside her house. I have to pull this plank off my leg. Have to do it, yes… “A long breath and…” She held the end of the plank with her quivering hands. “NOW!” A prolonged pull released the rusted nails. Blood spat on her hands and then the screams of a familiar voice rang through her earlobes.

It came from—the water well… She speculated, holding onto the bench nearby, to pull herself up. But the bench broke under the pressure, forcing her to stand on her own. She grasped her very soul and stood up slowly and limped to the well as soon as possible. The chatter and murmurs of bandits echoed close by. Where are you, ma? Please come back to me… She limped to the well.

Her sight was blurry from the smoke. It choked her, felt like choking on a rubber tire. Despite the weak eyesight. She rubbed her eyes till they became bloodshot. She laid eyes on a lady dressed in white, black-haired, leant against the other side of the well. “FINALLY,” she murmured, closing in on the lady. She slipped on a puddle—yet didn’t give up. 

She crawled to the lady. As she got closer, she noticed something. Red… The ground around mom was stained red… Her movements froze—her body shriving in place. NONONO, SHE. IS. NOT. MY. MOM. She took a deep breath and mustered enough courage to check if that lady was her mother or not.

She crawled her way towards the other side of the well. There lay a lady, her head dropped low, masking her face. A white rode coated with red. Her limbs were covered in blood. Mika trembled, and held on to the lady’s chin, lifting her face. THANK GOD! A sigh of relief. It wasn’t her mom, but was still another human who had a beautiful family, just like what Mika had. A person with hopes and dreams. A person who died for a reason that she would never know. But Mika had no time to dwell on these thoughts. More footsteps rang around her. The bandits were close. She was wrong—that familiar yell she heard didn’t originate here. Maybe a bit further in the same direction. 

She stood back—surrounded by smoke, where men emerged with axes, swords in hands, equipped with amour, plundered gold juggling in pockets. “Look what we have here,” laughed one bandit, looking down at her. 

Mika could defeat these men—if she was in perfect shape. Despite the danger closing in on her, she couldn’t help but to notice. Another stranger was overlooking this from the roofs. Black boots, tight black pants… IS THAT THE PERSON AT THE TREE? Her eyes widened with doubt and curiosity as the stranger leaped off the roof, landing on a bandit, thrusting a sword into his shoulder in cold blood. The stranger was a well-built woman—who stood there amidst the shocked bandits with the fire glistening behind her—the smoke masking her identity. She flicked her sword and the blood spat down on the ground. Something shined on her neck through the glimmering embers. A necklace? Mika wondered and instantly ran her hands through the back of her neck—where she felt a weird burning sensation.

“RUN! SOUTH OF HERE! I’ll take care of this,” commanded the stranger, holding the spine of the sword, wiping it clean off the bandit’s sinful blood and sprinting straight into the nearby bandit’s neck.

Mika nodded and ran in pure desperation. She couldn’t even turn back to identify who the stranger was while her blade slayed the bandits like a hot knife in cold butter.

Blindly running south, she did not know where she was. She was lost—and that was when she heard a voice. The sweet, soothing yet quivering voice, calling her name—behind her. She stopped in her tracks, turned around to the pitiful state of Akemi. Wounds tinted her elegant skin. Her hand throbbing, yet tightly gripping a sword. Blood tinted all over her. Mika ran to hug her like it was her last day on earth, burying her into her mom and she grasped her daughter.

The ever edging-closer war cries of bandits broke their moment of silence. “Mika… They are close. I’ll hold them off. Run and do not tell anyone that you are from a war clan.”

NONONONONO! YOU ARE NOT SAYING BEHIND! She thought.