The Raid

Defining moment in a young boy's life.

I was only a boy when the “Red Eyes” raided my village. My father hid my sister and I under his forge and told us to stay silent. Among us, the sound of pillaging and screams shook us to our core. My sister was only in her ninth season and was shaking uncontrollably. I held her tight to me, telling her that father and mother would protect us.

That they were the most renowed warriors in the village. That mother could thrust a blade through single sunder in a breast plate. That father’s war hammer was so heavy that it took 2 men to lift it, yet he could wield it with ease. That they had defended the village from goblins when I was her age and that they had done it wit….

CRASH. I could hear the forge door forced open. I held my hand over my sisters mouth and whispered to her to remain quiet. I could not see anything in the darkness of the cupboard. I could only hear. Hear the thunderous cries of my parents. The crash of father’s hammer. The metalic ring of mother’s saber. The only sound greater then their war cries were the screams of the dark ones as they fell one by one. PING! Arrows bounching off of father’s anvil. CHUNK! Spear handles severed along with their wielders.

Suddenly my fathers voice rang out in concern. Mother had been hit with a lance in her side. As I heard his feet pound the cold stone floor of the forge room, I heard his raspy voice curse and the sound on blood splatter the floor. My mother’s voice weak yet fierce cried out and I heard her heft something a grunt from the exertion of throwing it. Her effort was rewarded with a scream. I could hear father but couldnt understand him. Mother was speaking to him softly. Like she would when putting me to bed.

Slowly the sound of boots stomping grew louder and more resounding. I could barely make out the sliding of my mother moving father back on his feet. The sound of his hammer clatering to the floor and the scratch of a spear handle on the floor. He must be proping himself up. The stomping subsided as suddenly as it started. Then for the first time in what seemed like days I heard only silence. I strained my ears.

The soft splat of dripping blood. The crackling of fire spread out among the village. The heavied breathing of mother and father. Then a voice.

It spoke softly yet forcibly. In a tongue I did not comprehend. It spoke for a few moments then fell silent. Then I heard the oddest sound of the day. A sigh. Almost bored. Then the voice spoke in Atherian.

"I really detest having to resort to this wretched and gutterial language. Now you there, man and she elf. I assume you know who we are and what were looking for. If you would be so kind as to as to point us in the right direction, well be on our way with just your skulls."

Then a silence fell among us again. I felt like every breath my sister and I took was a shout. My father spoke then, strained. “I know who you are and what you seek, Drak’Remor. That power is not for the likes of us. Of lower beings. You play with fire, Elf. AND I MEAN TO DELIVER”

Hes rushing! Hes going to kill the leader! Hes going to wi…….

CRASH! And then a wet thud on the ground. My mother’s scream echoed the hall and her voice cried for vengeance. Her feet slammed on the stone. …

CRASH! the same thud. The only sound was that of my heart beat and my tears dripping on the wood under us. Then out of that, the same bored sigh.

My anger boiled. I wanted to avenge them. To take up father’s war hammer and meet out justice. But the sobing bundle on my arms brought me back to reality. Once again the voice spoke and the stimping began. Softer and softer it became. My arms never leaving my sister for a night and, even after I felt the light rise and soak thru the arrow holes and cuts of the cupboard, I stayed silent.

Slowly I opened the door. I immediately saw the carnage of the battle and covered my sister’s eyes. I walked slowly with her hand in mine. Blood soaking into our footwraps. I lead her out of the carnage and found we were the only ones to survive. I decided we would leave.

As so we walked.

Author's Note

Any advice, constructive or not is welcome.

Reviews

[Nana]

Needs more paragraphs, but other than that this is a really good dark story. Waiting for the next part.