“Everyone, go down to the basement now.” Agarin hurried his children to stand up and go to the back of the house. 

“But we don’t have one,” whined the youngest drowsily to register the situation. 

In one motion, Agarin took a deep breath, crouched slightly and moved his hands vertically, shifting the earth to create a hatch and a sizable area below them. 

He breathed out. Sweat dripped from his face, and his long, tied hair clung to his skin. “Now we do. Let’s get down there.” 

Hurrying with everyone inside the bunker-like basement, Agarin was about to seal the hatch until he noticed his husband was missing. 

“Gitlam, what’s holding you up?” 

Stepping back from the dwarf jumping inside, they saw Gitlam with a sizable mass of dough in his arms. “What are you looking at?” he asked as they all looked at him, perplexed.

“Dough? Really? From all the things you could bring, it’s dough!?” yelled Agarin, closing the hatch and hitting his husband repeatedly. 

“Hey now,” Gitlam protested defensively, cradling the dough gently in his arms. “You never know when it will come in handy!” 

Hazir tugged on Agarin’s robe to get his attention. “Will we live in a basement now and eat father’s bread all the time?” asked the little boy before his older sister pulled him into a hug. 

“Hopefully not,” answered Agarin, brushing off the dust of Hazir’s hair. “The guards should soon apprehend that lunatic. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“That’s right,” answered Gitlam with a brave tear rolling down his cheek. “We need information on what is going on. Agarin, do your thing!” 

His partner gave Gitlam a displeased look. “Not funny, and I can’t. I don’t have a high sensory ability to scout the surroundings; you know that.” 

“Kiur can do it, can’t he?” inquired Ninda, startling all three adults. “My fathers once mentioned how amazing you were at communicating with the earth. You could do it easily, can’t you?” 

The pair gave each other an uncomfortable look. “We don’t know what Ninda is talking about, Kiur.” 

“We haven’t talked nothing about you or how you have lost your-” 

“It’s alright,” Kiur stopped them, trying his best to seem composed. “There’s nothing wrong, it’s alright.” 

Even after Kiur defused the situation, they felt considerably uncomfortable. 

“I don’t want to say pry, but,” Gitlam began, “as it stands, we might be in trouble if we remain here too long. Could you try to scout out the situation with your magic-” 

Upon voicing his opinion, the dwarf got an elbow against his stomach. 

It was true that Kiur was the only one among them with the capability to scout the proximity with his magic. 

Without even trying or lifting a single finger, Kiur could see and feel the erratic movement around them. Warning about whoever was up there was not to be trifled with and searching for them. 

It wouldn’t be safe here for too long. 

Shaking his head, Kiur reputed. “I can’t help scouting, but I know that we can’t stay until someone comes for help.” 

“Should we risk a breakaway? Fight off whoever is out there?”. 

“Definitely not with the children here.” rebuffed Agarin. “What if there’s more than one psycho?” 

And alone they weren’t. 

Having waited for too long to discuss their options, the inevitable happened. 

A sharp object sliced through the thick stone layer above, stopping right before Kiur’s nose. 

A blade sliced through the ceiling, followed quickly by the sharp end of a spear and back again with a gleaming axe. Panicked screams and cries filled the space as the ceiling became riddled with holes.

With no time to spare, Agarin carved an escape way leading right out in front of the house. They crawled outside and found three assailants in their home behind the cut-open entrance.

The second they noticed their presence, Agarin sealed off the entrance with another layer of stone. 

“How did they cut through it? Are you getting sluggish?” 

Agarin wiped away the sweat on his forehead and huffed at his husband. “I’ve never been much of a magic user, you know that, but I don’t know how-” 

“Look, smoke!”

Following the direction of the girl’s finger, they found smoke billowing in the distance. 

Black and red fumes intermingled with one another and covered the elevations of the mountains. It was coming from the market area where most of the people were living close by. 

Something was happening, but Kiur couldn’t process what. Outsiders were attacking them, but from where could they possibly have come? 

The northern part of Idaris possessed a high military presence, protecting them from the beasts beyond the mountains. Southwards was their ally Navarre, and in the east was the sea, with no way to dock ships outside Navarre’s jurisdiction and the sharp cliffs. 

After eliminating all other options, only the West remained. 

Crossing the mountains without alarming anyone was next to impossible. The terrain was rough and dangerous to cross without a native. 

But here they were, destroying their peaceful lives. “Why does this have to happen?” Kiur anguished himself over this question as he was drawn back to the danger. 

The cutting and clanging of metal against stone were getting louder and clearer. 

Blades of rusted iron tore apart the hard stone barrier. It wasn’t elemental magic, but plain reinforcement magic. 

Only seasoned magic users or soldiers could pull it off at this magnitude. 

Not three armed stragglers with ripped clothes and scrawny faces who seem to not have eaten properly in forever.

One of the men with raven black hair and a tint of purple at their tips came forth. His sharp eyes glowed like sunstones. “Skær dem op, tag børnene,” said the ferocious young stranger with the axe pointed at Kiur and the others. 

“What did he say?” 

“I don’t know, but I hope he was not insulting my dough!” 

“Cut them up,” answered Kiur with terror in his voice. He understood every word he spoke. “They will kill us and take the children!” 

Call it instinct or whatever it was, but Kiur felt the cutting edge of a blade on his skin when he locked eyes with them. 

Cold sweat ran down his skin when the man’s piercing eyes settled on Kiur and licked his chipped lips, revealing a toothy sneer.

They were here to murder anyone standing in their way. Kiur’s body couldn’t move from fear of the man coming towards him.

“Kiur, we will hold them off. Get the children out of the way!” bellowed Gitlam, igniting waves of flames over his arms. “Agarin, give me an opening!” 

“Right.” Using the last bit of strength left in him, Agarin dug his hands into the earth, turned them and let the ground shake. It took everything out of him not to keel over from overexerting himself, but he had to think of his children.

The diversion worked as the unknown attackers staggered from the moving ground.

Meanwhile, Gitlam set his dough on fire and hurled it at them with all the fury of a dwarf. 

It wasn’t that effective at first. 

They dodged most of them until one got unlucky and had his entire face covered in dough, and struggled to breathe as it began expanding.

“My secret mixture for making bappir bread for brewing. Don’t try eating it; you’ll hate the taste!” Gitlam turned his head back to Kiur and his children, who were still in place. “What are you standing there twiddling your thumbs? Get going and keep them safe!” 

There wasn’t much time to contemplate. Kiur couldn’t stay and help to fight. He was not sure if he would be of any help in his current state. 

Especially with children by his side and the delusion still creeping nearby.

He picked up the protesting Hazir boy, grabbed Ninda’s hand, and ran. “I will keep them safe, I promise.” 

A smile appeared on the parents’ faces. “Thank you, and keep your head up,” was the last thing Kiur would hear from them.