“Gordel!” Belei said. Zenji let out another cacophony of cries.

Curon rushed to Gordel, inspecting the arrow.

The arrow had passed mostly through the calf muscle, stuck on the fletching against the bone. Blood flowed slowly from each side of the leg, soaking Gordel’s brown trousers. 

“This is a bad one.” Curon said. “At least it didn’t hit the bone.” He pulled out his radio. “Start. We have wounded. A citizen has been shot. Repeat, a citizen has been shot by an arrow. End.”

“Start. Understood. Medic attending. End.”

Belei opened her mouth to ask a question but closed it shortly after.

“It means that there’s a physician-trained soldier in the squad to assist.” Curon said.

Belei frowned. 

“What? I knew you were going to ask.” 

“I was not. I had come to that conclusion on my own.” Belei said. Her brow bent down in frustration, a face that even a great long time away from her royal position could not eliminate from hours of practice and private tutelage. The royal frown.

Curon opened his mouth to speak but faltered, sounds not forming into words. He also frowned and looked down at Gordel on the ground who was smiling.

“Ha, ha. Very funny. Stop smiling. You’ve been shot.” Curon said. 

“Will I live, doctor?” Gordel asked, a smile refusing to leave his face. 

“Luckily, it didn’t exit completely which will help staunch the flow of blood, but infection will be more likely and more dangerous in the long run. I can’t tell beyond that, however. I have little experience in field medicine. Walking is out of the question for now, though. We don’t want to make the muscle rip and tear around the shaft. That’ll open the wound more.” Curon took a hand and placed it on Gordel’s calf, getting a pained groan out of him, and braced the wound before Curon snapped the longer portion of the arrow off.

Gordel screamed, trying to hold it back, but not entirely. 

“Sorry.” Curon said. “It’ll make things easier if the entire arrow isn’t sticking out and catching doorframes.”  

A few more arrows flew into the shop through the glass windows in waves, bristling the front of the shop in fletching and shaft. 

“They’re brave now, knowing one got you.” Curon said.

A flurry of gunshots plastered the building across from the bakery, a wave of dust and chunks of stone splattering to the street. A medic ran in, indicated by a symbol on his arm of a white circle with a black line down the middle and cutting it in half. He was followed by three other soldiers and an officer. The medic began administering to Gordel’s arrow wound by putting it in a splint to prevent movement and further damage. He wrapped the leg in gauze and bandages as well, cleaning the skin around the wounds with a strip of soaked cloth.

“Sergeant Flauk.” Curon said.

“Captain Curon.” Flauk said, saluting his commanding officer with his right hand to left shoulder. “How did you find these citizens? Wait—” Flauk looked down at Gordel and Belei with Zenji in her arms. “Why do you have the Secretary of Internal Affairs with you? Why are they still in the Old Country?”

“It’s not the Old Country yet, Sergeant.” He paused, then whispered to Flauk, “They won’t tell me why they’re still here. I think it’s classified. He said something about King Dulardor’s orders.”

“Should you be telling me this, sir?”

“You know me, Sergeant,” Curon said, “I don’t care about those things unless ordered to. Besides, I don’t know anything incriminating anyway.” Another barrage of arrows blasted through the glass, breaking any remaining panes. A wave of gunshots followed. Zenji just could not handle the cacophony of sound, adding his own to the mix. 

“Get us out of here, solider.” Gordel said to Flauk. The sergeant nodded and waved his hand forward. The soldiers took positions around the wood frames of the windows and began shooting at the archers on the buildings across from the bakery. 

The archers slowly fell to the street as they died, streaking blood across the plaster and smoothed stone of the buildings they were previously perched on. 

The sergeant’s radio sounded. “Start. Two squads of Destruction infantry heading your way Sergeant Flauk. end.”

“Start. Understood. End.”

Another arrow rammed into the wood frame of the door where a soldier was crouched, but the arrow blasted through the wood and pierced clean through the soldier behind the door and imbedded deep into the wood flooring under the soldier. The arrow shaft from its mid-point to fletching disintegrated upon impact, splitting the remaining wood down the middle to the arrowhead. 

All eyes widened, staring at the arrow.

“Mage!” Curon yelled. “Pan’s fall. We thought they might come. Cursed Destructionites. Just couldn’t resist the urge to invade and loot while we’re leaving!”

“Back away from the front of the shop!” Flauk ordered. 

Just as Sergeant Flauk yelled out to his squad, three more enhanced arrows shredded the wood framing of the shop, even penetrating to some of the columns deeper in. 

“We have to get out of here, now!” Curon yelled. “Get me an exit!”

One of the soldiers turned and looked near the back of the bakery, disappearing behind the kitchen door. 

“Back here sir! There’s a door!” The soldier said. 

Before anyone could move, a blast of fire erupted from the kitchen, engulfing the soldier inside. The soldier groaned on the floor, dazed and burning.

The medic jumped up and ran into the kitchen. After a few moments and sounds of grunting, the medic ran back into the shop proper, hot tongues of fire following behind as he dragged the burning soldier in. 

“Sir, they’ve blocked off the back door. At least two Destruction mages.” The medic said, followed by Zenji letting off a wave of fearful cries.

“We’re pinned in here.” Curon said, mind racing for a solution.

“Start. This is Sergeant Flauk, requesting assistance. Pinned down in Jolin’s bakery on tenth. At least two Destruction mages confirmed, likely more. Urgent need of higher medical attention. Soldier down. End.” Flauk said. 

In a burst of wind and wood, the frames of the shop at the front ripped free and blasted away towards the Destructionite archer mages on the opposing buildings. 

Walking up the road towards the archer’s location was a group of men dressed entirely different than either Progressian soldiers nor Destructionites—flowing blue robes under armor and leather padding jerkins, strange circular patterns in the cloth curving around like birds in flight. The squad had five foot-soldiers with shields in front and three armor-gilded swordsmen with a symbol on their helm of a single circle with four triangles in two rows forming a square inside the symbol. The symbol for mages in the Control Empire’s military. Belei stiffened, suddenly chilled when she saw them. Gordel cursed in response.

“The Empire is here too?!” Curon said, eyebrows bent in disbelief. “This is Panning ridiculous!” He noticed the two groups outside had begun to exchange blows and projectiles. He saw an opportunity in the chaos. “Use them as a distraction! Try and get out the back!” He waved his hands towards the kitchen as he issued the orders. 

More arrows flew from the Destruction mages, but now aimed at the Control battle mage squad. Some longer arrows pierced clean through a foot-soldier’s shield and pinned him to the cobblestones through his gut. The fighting raged as enhanced arrows, fireballs, and whole walls to buildings flew across the street outside the bakery. 

Curon looked at the chaos in the street. “Mage fights can get really nasty. We want to be as far away as we can get from them.”

Sergeant Flauk and Captain Curon hefted Gordel to his feet and helped him out, Belei and Zenji at their sides. The remaining soldiers surrounded the others in front and back of them. The soldiers inched out the back door, looking for the Destructionite men.

“Sir, the mages left the back of the shop.” A solider said. 

“Just go soldier!” Sergeant Flauk said. “They’re likely joining their comrades in front as we speak.” 

As they left the bakery and ran down the alley in between buildings, the entire structure crumbled as a Control battle mage flew through the wall as if flung by a behemoth and slammed into the alley wall opposite the bakery back door. The group did not slow to see what happened, but Belei glanced back to see the battle mage. He was standing tall, flowing black hair escaping his now dented helm.

He was staring at Belei.