A hand grasped his own. It’s warmth calmed his racing heart.

  “It’s ok!” Clara’s voice, laced with fear, reached him through the haze.

  He lifted his gaze towards her. She was staring at a blue box in front of her. A few lines of white text appeared in front of her.

  “Yes!” She exclaimed. Her eyes glimmered with hope and relief. Another few lines appeared, but before he could try to read any of them, she shooed the blue box away with the back of her hand. “It’s ok, just hold on for a minute, ok?” Despite her words, her voice trembled with a mix of fear and panic. She let go of his hand and moved towards his wound.

  Holding both her palms above his wound, she shut her eyes and muttered something. A warm, golden light radiated from her palms.

  The fog clouding his mind cleared near instantly. His eyes shot wide open. “Clara…?” He whispered, partly in shock, partly in awe. The warmth erased the throbbing pain. The torn apart skin started to heal rapidly, tissues reconnecting as if the wound had never even happened in the first place.

  It was only a dozen seconds later that Clara let out the breath she was holding. She opened her eyes and turned her gaze to him. Her lips parted into a relieved smile. “It’s ok now.” She said with palpable relief. Tears welled up in her eyes. “I was so scared…” her sharp, fearful voice trembled before she threw herself towards him.

  He wrapped his arms around her.

  “Thank you.” Alaric closed his eyes and breathed out in relief. She was fine – more than fine. Questions surfaced in his mind. How had she done that? It was magic! Healing – like in myths and legends, or fantasy books. “Clara,” he softly spoke, gently stroking her back as she cried. “We probably shouldn’t stay here for too long.”

  She sniffed, then pulled away and wiped her reddened eyes with the back of her sleeve. “Yeah. Al, I think it’s like this everywhere.” She took a deep breath. “After I jumped out the window, I went towards the road to get help.” Her voice shook as she spoke. “People were running, and these… things were chasing them. A lot of them-“ She paused and looked away. Her hands clenched into fists. “A lot of them didn’t make it.”

  It didn’t surprise him as much as it probably should have. If he and Clara – two random people – were faced with this, it was likely that everyone else was faced with it too.

  “Oh and,” She said as he motioned to get up. “Just before you shouted my name, some more text appeared. It said I was saved by someone. It gave me a reward.” She opened her hands and turned her palms up. “It gave me a choice between two… things. Abilities? Paths? I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I chose healing. I thought you might need it after…” she muttered with a catch in her voice and broadly gestured at the ruined workshop.

  He awkwardly chuckled, suppressing the urge to puke as his gaze landed on the smashed up heads of the wolves. He quickly averted his gaze and noticed the blue box floating in the air next to him.

  REWARDS PENDING

  “What rewards?” He asked. Clara’s ears perked up. Her gaze fixed on the box just as the writing shifted.

  YOU HAVE SURVIVED THE FIRST MOMENTS OF THE FALL

  YOU HAVE PROTECTED SOMEONE ELSE

  REWARDS GRANTED:

  PHYSICAL ABILITIES SLIGHTLY INCREASED

  MAGICAL APTITUTE INCREASED

  MANA INCREASED

  “I didn’t get the magical aptitude thing.” Clara folded her arms. “Or the mana one, the rest is the same though.” She pursed her lips for a moment, scowling. “But where’s the ability selection? Why didn’t you get one? It also didn’t say that…”

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Alaric shook his head. “I don’t know.” He scowled and turned his gaze to him. “Didn’t say what?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing. We got different things. Maybe because you killed the wolves and I hid.”

  None of this makes any sense. He pushed the thought aside and glanced around. We’re not safe here anymore. A single glance at the roof was enough to convince him to hurry.

  “Clara, we should get out of here before the roof falls on us.” He finally spoke. “Pack a bag, anything you think will be useful. And find some sort of weapon…” he paused, looking at the ruined workshop. There were more than enough tools to choose from.

  Accompanied by the creaks of support beams holding up the half destroyed roof, they filled two backpacks with anything that could be useful – cloth for bandages, water bottles, anything edible they found… Any attempt to make their phones work proved to be fruitless. It seemed they couldn’t connect to the net, and when they tried calling anyone, there was no signal. The same applied to the old radio at the corner of the workshop – despite there still being electricity, it remained silent. Giving up, they continued to pack.

  It wasn’t long before they were ready to leave. Each carrying a backpack, they left the workshop and stepped out onto the main street.

  The asphalt was cracked, riddled with holes and wet with what looked like blood. A car had crashed into a house just a few dozen meters away, smoke was rising from its front. He spotted a hunched over silhouette inside the car, motionless. His heart sank with guilt as he recognised the elderly man. He looked away.

  “Maybe there’s someone we can help.” Clara’s meek voice broke the awful silence.

  “Maybe.” Alaric shook his head and scoured their surroundings. The quiet dread he felt before was still there, whispering to him to get as far from here as possible.

  They approached the building next to the carpenter’s workshop. As Clara waited a few steps behind him, he pushed the door open. The heavy, metallic scent of blood filled his nostrils before his gaze landed on the torn-apart body of the elderly seamstress. Bloody paw prints led from the body to the door, southward across the street.

  Every building they checked was similar. Roofs destroyed, people torn apart. Larger buildings had all but collapsed from the rocks that crashed through the ceiling. He didn’t approach them.

  “Let’s try to get out of town.” He drowned the guilt and the what-ifs. They hadn’t found anyone. It was time to leave.

  “We can try to go to Ava’s place. Bibury is far enough away… right?” She asked with a hint of hope. Fear clouded her eyes. She tightly held onto his arm as they continued walking down the street, while holding the hammer she picked up in her other hand.

  “It’s almost two hours by foot. It’s far…” Whether it was far enough was another question. The thought of just going home occurred, but he pushed it away almost immediately. Considering all the blood on the streets, the crashed cars and the bodies he spotted, staying here, in the town seemed like a terrible choice.

  Who knew how many people had failed to survive? At any moment, they could turn the corner and come face to face with a hungry wolf-like creature, or worse. “Let’s hurry.”

  They kept to the main roads of Fairford, making sure to stay clear of the damaged buildings and the crashed cars… and the dead bodies on the floor. He tried not to look at them, and noticed Clara avert her gaze too. Her fingers squeezed his hand, and she hastened her steps.

  Not everyone was lucky as they were – hardly anyone would have been carrying something they could use as a weapon, and some must have been caught in crowded places. More people must have meant more wolves, he assumed. Two for each person, it seemed like. He steered clear of the large buildings and common places as he led Clara down a narrower street through a block of houses. He didn’t want her to see that kind of bloodbath.

  Who was he trying to convince? He didn’t want to see that kind of bloodbath either.

  A blue box appeared in front of both of them.

  WARNING – ONE HOUR TO AETHERFALL

  OBJECTIVE: GET TO A HALLOWED LAND BEFORE AETHERFALL BEGINS

  59:59

  His chest tightened, his heart pounded, too loud in his ears. “Aetherfall,” he repeated the vaguely familiar word. “Hallowed Land. We need to get to a Hallowed Land. What’s a Hallowed Land?”

  Clara tightly grasped her hammer with both hands. Her gaze darted between the two ends of the narrow street. “I don’t know,” she whispered with a catch in her voice.

  He bit his lips. Hallowed Ground… Consecrated, revered. So what, a church?

  No, that couldn’t be. The only church in Fairford was behind one of the buildings they just passed by, and he had seen its bell tower in ruins over the roof of the other one.

  “Alaric, what do we do?” Clara asked, her voice laced with fear.

  He gritted his teeth. “Consecrated land, holy land.”

  She glanced at him with confusion. “What, the Vatican?”

  He shook his head. “No, church ground should count. Land belonging to the church is hallowed, according to myth. So should old paganistic temples…” His voice faded. Old Celtic religion didn’t have any temples – not in the common sense. Sacred groves and such had been holy to them, but that was useless now. He didn’t know which gathering of trees was supposed to be holy.

  “A church?” Clara snapped her fingers. “Oh, the old church by the Cohl river? It’s halfway between here and Bibury! Does that count?” She glanced over her shoulder, towards the town centre. “I don’t think the church in the market square is a good idea.”

  That’s in ruins! He hesitated. “Good idea. Come on.” Please, please be holy enough or this bloody thing.

  The empty streets echoed to their running footsteps. The countdown from one hour remained at the corner of their eyes – and ever present reminder of their approaching deaths.

  A shout stopped them in their tracks as they turned a corner.