Virion brandished his blade. He was panting hard. The enemy ran towards him, dagger in hand. Virion parried the first strike as the enemy frenziedly thrust his dagger at him. The enemy's dagger crackled with lightning as he swung it a second time, his solid black eyes staring menacingly into Virion's. Virion stepped back quickly in an attempt to dodge, his limbs heavy from the fatigue of constant battle.
His ankle struck something, and he lost his balance, toppling backward onto the ground. His hand knocked against the floor and his sword flew out of reach. The enemy took the opening and charged forward, thrusting his lightning cloaked dagger at Virion. The enemy stopped and cried out as a blade wreathed in fire pierced through his chest from behind.
Virion watched as the dagger slipped from his grasp, the lightning surrounding it fading into sparks then nothing. The enemy stared down at the blade emerging from his heart in confusion then his body fell limp and dropped to the ground. In the enemy's place was Virion's father, who was panting as he pulled his sword free of the enemy’s body. He looked at Virion and reached out a hand, which Virion accepted.
His father hoisted him up then turned to pick up his sword that had landed a few paces away. He grabbed the sword by its hilt and shoved it into Virion’s hand. Then he placed his palm on Virion’s shoulder and met his eyes.
'Virion... Run', he said as he firmly pushed Virion away.
'But I can still fi-'
'Look around you!!', his father interrupted angrily. 'This battle is lost. Take your mother and run.'
Virion stared into his father’s unflinching green eyes, which still burned with a passion despite the grim situation they were in. He glanced over at his mother lying against a nearby tree, her chest was split open by a large wound, still crackling with magic residue.
She seemed to be struggling to breathe as she lay on the ground, barely moving. Virion looked further to see swathes of burning forest, the woods covered in fire. Elf corpses littered the battleground, charred and burning and emanating a foul smell. The grand city in the distance was barely visible through the smoke billowing up from it, as explosions continued to ring from within. Through it all the enemy, the warlocks, ran amok. Virion looked back at his father who wore a sullen yet firm expression.
'Take her and leave while you can. Go to the perabels.'
He turned and cut down another warlock that had attempted to catch them off guard, calmly parrying his strike and running him through with his sword in one smooth motion.
'Father...'
'Did you not hear me?', his father said irritatedly, turning to look at him. Virion reached out, noticing the warlock that appeared behind his father who had stepped towards Virion in his annoyance. He cried out as a blade cloaked in lightning emerged from his father's chest.
The scene appeared to play out in slow motion as the warlock that had caught him unawares thrust his dagger through Virion’s father’s heart, a crazed look on his pale face. Virion felt his heart drop as he saw his father murdered before him. Life slowly left his father's green eyes. He spoke in a hoarse whisper as the warlock pushed him to the ground.
'Run...'
Virion stared in shock as his father crashed into the dirt, lifeless. He gripped his sword tightly as he roared and lunged at the warlock.
The warlock dodged backward and swept at Virion's legs. He jumped over the blade and towards the warlock as his vision turned red with anger. Virion landed on top of the warlock with incredible force and slammed the hilt of his sword into the warlock's nose.
A burst of blood sprayed Virion as he brought the hilt of his sword up and smashed the warlock’s face again. His anger had reached its boiling point as he took out all of his sorrows and frustrations on this warlock, repeatedly raising his sword and bringing the hilt down on the head of his father’s killer. He barely heard his mother’s cry in his rage-filled assault of the warlock beneath him.
'Virion! Please...'
He stopped, his sword raised in the air, and turned his gaze to look at his mother, lying against a tree and slowly bleeding out from the wound in her abdomen. Her long green hair was blotted with blood and her left arm was bent in an odd shape.
Her face displayed no pain, however, just worry as she looked at him. Her voice had come out strained and weak and Virion felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He looked down at the warlock, whose face was shattered beyond perception. He was long dead. Virion rose quickly and ran to his mother, shaking the blood off the hilt of his sword.
'Mother... Let's run', he said, his voice hoarse. His mother began to protest but he picked her up and carried her on his back. He turned to see his father lying dead on the ground a few feet away then clenched his teeth and took off into the woods carrying his dying mother away from the battlefield...
*****
Virion awoke in a cold sweat. It had been two weeks since the warlock invasion on his home and yet it continued to plague his dreams. He felt a sharp pain in his hands, and he looked down at them to see that his fists were tightly clenched.
He pried them open to see small cuts in his palms, grooved in by the nails of his clenched fists. Virion stared at his bleeding palms for a moment then walked over to the basin to wash off his hands, staring into the mirror above the basin. His green hair was murky instead of its usual bright green and his eyes shone a dull dirty shade of green. His cheeks and eyes were sunken in and his sharp facial features made him look almost malnourished. He proceeded to wash his face and clenched his teeth as he stared at the coward in the mirror one last time. Then he quickly marched out of his room.
Elder Symonticus was waiting for him at the table. His short grey hair shone in the morning sun filtering through the window. He was visibly old with crinkled skin and thin arms and legs. He watched Virion with his brown eyes tiredly as he entered. Two plates of bread had been set out and the elder was sitting at one of them. Virion sat down in the other chair.
'My apologies elder.'
'It is alright boy. Eat your breakfast', He gestured to the plate of bread.
The perabel elder had volunteered to care for Virion and his mother when they had stumbled half-dead into the perabel stronghold two weeks earlier. They had been staying in his small house ever since. It was meagerly furnished as the elder had donated most of his furniture in an attempt to accommodate the large influx of perabels into the stronghold - escapees from the warlock invasion.
They sat at a small table with two chairs that was near a window. The rest of the empty house stretched out to their right. It was a rather large house, owing to elder Symonticus’ high standing in the perabel community.
'Has mother eaten?', he asked while taking small bites out of his bread. It was stale, but Virion considered himself lucky that he could eat bread daily in the morning, stale or not. The food stores in the stronghold were beginning to run low. The elder put down his goblet of water and placed a hand on his shoulder. He stopped eating and faced him.
'Your mother has passed.'
Virion stared down at the bread.
'When?'
'This morning.'
Virion was suddenly set upon by a spike of rage. He slammed his fist into the table, cracking the old wood. He took a deep breath and looked back up at the elder, immediately regretting his actions.
'I apologize... Elder.'
As he stood up to leave, elder Symonticus held up a folded piece of paper. It was fresh parchment and seemed to have been hastily torn from a larger piece.
'She wrote this before her death.'
Virion took it without a word. Words meant for him should have been told to him by his mother, not handed to him by the elder. He clenched his fist, causing a spike of pain to shoot through him as he pressed into the cuts already present in his palms. He looked at the elder who had a worried expression on his face.
'Thank you. I will be by the ocean.'
He grabbed his sword and left the house.
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