Then he heard Lera’s scream, and he broke into a run. He crashed through the melee to find Lera held on the ground by two goblins, her chest covered in blood, her skirts pulled up past her hips, a third goblin about to enter her with his throbbing member. Delgar screamed in rage, and something welled up inside him.
    He felt power flow through his veins, a forceful, painful energy begging for release. It surged through him and surrounded him, became one with him. For a brief moment he understood the whole of creation, all with that strange power he did not know he had.
    As the goblins turned to look at him, Delgar felt the power raising his hand for him. A burst of white hot energy tore through him and escaped, striking the half-naked goblin full in the chest. The goblin screamed in pain as the hole began to burn, turning the creature into a living torch. Delgar turned to the other two creatures, the white hot power flowing through him and escaping once more.
    The second goblin never had a chance to scream. A bolt of energy took it in the head, blowing it into a fine mist. The burning body fell to the ground. The third goblin turned to run, screaming, but the power blew its leg off. As it grasped at its truncated limb, the fire consumed the creature, its screams of agony lost in the greater cry of the crowd.
    Delgar knelt by Lera, wincing as he saw the bloody, oozing gash across her chest. “You’ll be all right,” he sobbed. “I’ll find you some help. You’ll be all right.”
    “Get me out of here,” Lera gasped, tears of pain and sorrow in her eyes. “My dada’s dead. I saw him die! By the Eternal One, why do I feel so numb...”
    Delgar nodded. “I’ll take you into the woods. We should be safe there.”
    He knelt down and picked up her frail form, holding her to him as though she might break. As quickly as he could, he carried her out of the village and past the tree-line. The musky scent of the woods forced out the smell of death as he laid her gently on the ground, out of sight of the village.
    “I’ll be back soon,” he promised. “I’ve got to see if my father's all right. I'll be back.”
    He thought he saw her nod, and he raced through the trees, mentally marking her makeshift nest. As he came within sight of the village, he fell to his knees and began to weep.
    The collection of cottages had been set alight, and the fire blazed high into the sky. He saw a couple of people still fighting in the charred ruins, and for a moment thought he saw his father's blade glint in the fire-light, but then the figure holding the sword was cut down, and the last of the villagers fell. The goblins danced around the burning village, bundles of loot in their arms, singing a horrible song in a guttural tongue.
    Delgar made his way quietly back into the forest to the site where he left Lera. He found her breathing shallow, her face pale and eyes beginning to glaze.
    “Delgar,” Lera stammered. “I’m so cold.”
    “You’ll be all right,” Delgar tried to say, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he picked her up and began to walk into the woods, trying to escape from the horrors behind them.
    He walked forever, her quivering, frail form in his arms. Each step took him farther away from the reality of what had occurred, and he fled it gladly The sun began to set before him, and he looked back to see a column of smoke over the horizon.
    With a start he realized he was heading towards the sea, where those few villages that survived the goblin raids would barely be able to help him. He wondered why, but the question was fleeting, almost as if something hidden deeply inside him already knew the answer.
    “We’re coming close to some villages,” Delgar said, turning down to look at the wounded maiden in his arms. “They’ll be able to help us.”
    But there was no reply. Delgar looked down to see Lera's glazed eyes staring up at him sightlessly, her pale skin cold to his touch.
    Delgar sat down, placing her gently on the ground. For a long moment he stared at her, thinking of all the joy he had once seen in those eyes.
    For a moment, her voice came to him, clearer than he could ever recall hearing it in life. “I just want to be with you, wherever you go.”
    “We should have gone traveling,” Delgar murmured. “Seen the world together. Been with my mother and father...” But then his voice cracked, and the tears began to flow down his cheeks. In a crystal moment, he saw his father standing beside him, cooing softly to a grass drake. His mother helping in the kitchen, always ready with a smile for her little boy. But his father couldn't help him any more. He had passed on, lost to his son forever. His mother’s joyous gaze was forever stilled. His home had been destroyed, and was lost to him for all eternity.
    And then he looked at Lera’s still form, and he wept even harder. All the joy in her eyes had vanished, her soul sent swiftly to the Eternal One’s bosom. The power in his breast that his love for her had summoned stirred for a moment, but then vanished, lost in his sorrow.
    He lay on the ground beside her, wracked with sobs. All the loss, all the pain he had suffered came back to him in a single instant. He tried to hold her in his arms once more, but her body had become stiff and cold.
    Delgar never would be sure of how long he had wept, but when he arose, his heart drained, the moon was high in the sky. He no longer felt alive inside, but he did know a painful purpose. He knelt to the ground and dug with his hands, working until a large enough hole lay before him, illuminated by the soft moonlight.
    He gently picked Lera’s still form up in his arms and laid her to rest in the hole, kissing her once more as he had done so often in life. For just a moment, he thought he felt her stirring beneath him, but when he looked he found that he had only been holding her closer in his grief, and her eyes still stared sightlessly ahead.
    “Goodbye, Lera,” Delgar whispered. “I wish you could have given me all the children you wanted. I wish I could be with you right now. I wish...” But then he was wracked with sobs again, and when he could speak again the sun was beginning to rise. “You’ll always travel with me in my heart,” he finally said.
    Then he began to cover her with dirt, his hands becoming grubby as he piled handful after handful over her. Several times he had to stop to weep, and the tears watered her grave. Then he composed himself and began to bury her again, until the next bout of weeping began.
    Finally, Lera's grave stood unmarked in the forest, and the grove he sat in seemed to have become magical. He felt her spirit around him, in the grass and the trees, and for a moment he wept, not in mourning, but in the joy of laying a loved one to rest where she would always know true peace.
    His vision blurred as the tears came, and once again the sorrow poured out of his heart. Lera would never again come to him, and he would never again lay his eyes on her beautiful face in life.
    Finally, as the sun set, he lay down in his exhaustion and fell into a deep sleep, thankfully devoid of any dreams.