The sound of the wind and projectiles hitting bark was the only thing Chak was focused on, along with making sure his nephew was safe. He didn’t know where to go; the forest was vast, and there was nothing for miles, nothing but a river.

  “That’s it!” he thought. “The river will guide us to the city.”

  He prepared his legs for another big blast of energy, planting both feet against a branch. A field of heat formed around him as spores, bark, and dirt began to burn. All it took was one quick movement. He left behind a burn mark, not just in the branch but across the whole tree.

  “This is my last one for the next couple of hours. Better make it count.”

  As he projected himself through the air, catching each branch flawlessly and dancing from tree to tree, he arrived at the river. He grabbed his robes and placed Arryn on top of his head, making sure the child was safe. Slowly, he lowered himself into the water and started to swim carefully at first, finding the rhythm and proper balance to avoid throwing the child in.

  As he continued swimming, from out of the tall fields of water horsetails, he noticed rustling and footsteps approaching. His swimming grew faster and faster, trying to keep distance between him and whoever was following. Suddenly, a voice yelled, “I see them!”

  Shots hit the water, forcing him to swim even faster. He held the child tightly, glancing behind as the soldiers closed in. From deeper within the horsetail fields, the smell of burning grass filled the area. A bullet struck his shoulder. The bushes and horsetails kept burning; whatever was causing it approached faster and faster.

  His blood mixed with the water. He pressed his thumb to the wound, gathering heat around it. Turning around, he sensed someone from his tribe approaching, a burst of flames shooting from the tall grass, burning in a straight column. A human passed through the burned field, water evaporating and smoke curling around them. They stood there as their body crumbled, and the rest of the soldiers arrived, shooting at them.

  Chak wondered who this person could be. The rush of adrenaline made it hard to think, and the cauterized wound still hurt sharply. He put his hand up, and so did the entity. But the gesture felt too familiar, too recognizable.

  He realized then: “Mai.”

  Tears flowed from his eyes as he saw his sister, her body battered by bullets, spears, and more, finally brought down. The dark figure from before walked through the burned field.

  “Such a mess. And for what? You were always so unwilling to listen.”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Their arm raised, palm facing Mai’s face, releasing a burst of hot energy, a sure shot to kill. Chak swam as fast as he could, holding the last remaining member of his tribe and family close. He placed the child on his chest as the soldiers watched. The water around him began to boil, steam rising to cover the area. Seconds passed before a wave of air and sound cleared the steam. They were gone. Nothing remained but dead fish floating to the surface, cooked instantly by the sudden heat.

  The release of pressure caused his legs to burst from the impact, water hitting his body as he flew across the river, colliding with branches, rocks, and debris. His vision blurred. “Not yet,” he kept saying.

  The initial impact of water versus his full release of energy propelled him at 100 mph. He slowly lost velocity around the 20–30 minute mark, eventually reaching a continuous speed of 30 mph. He didn’t know nor care how long he had been traveling; his body had one goal. Although the Tribe’s warriors had tougher bodies than ordinary people, the water’s impact took its toll. He knew it was only a matter of minutes, if not seconds, before he lost consciousness. The last thing he heard was a splash of water.

  A body washed into the sewers of Machia. The sound of feet, horses, clocks, and buzzing streetlights covered the cries of a child.

  Two small children were playing near the entrance, sticks hitting the walls as they patrolled the area. One looked at the other.

  “Look, another dead body.”

  The other formed a binocular shape with their hands. “There’s something else there. Let’s go check it out.”

  As they started to run, the first child protested, “No! We need permission from Radahn. Remember, he said never to get that close to the entrance without an adult!”

  The first child smacked their own face, clicking their tongue. “I need to get more friends.”

  The two approached. “What happened to his face?”

  One child poked the man with a stick. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t look like something I’d want to find out.”

  The child noticed the black robes engraved with red gems and gold threads. As he tried to poke the robes with the stick, a hand grabbed it and broke it. Both children jumped back as the presumed-dead body moved, barely clinging to life with Chak’s remaining strength.

  “Plea… he… l.p.”

  Both children freaked out, throwing the stick aside. Chak moved his hand to slowly unwrap the robe.

  “IS THAT A FUCKING BABY?!” yelled the braver child.

  “Tok, hurry! Go get Radahn, or anyone who can help!”

  Tok, the quieter and smarter child, responded, “Tik, you are faster than I am. Why the fuck would I go? No, go!”

  Tik ran, rushing through piles of garbage, rats, and feces.

  “Here, have this,” Tok said, offering a piece of bread from his pouch. He uncorked a small cantine, and a cold breeze escaped the bottle. “Here, please drink. Your body needs it. What happened to you two?”

  Tears rolled down Tok’s face. Not from sadness, but fear, afraid the child might die in their care. He looked closely at the robe.

  “Hey, those are phoenix crystals! This is perfect. Please don’t die. I’ll be right back.”

  He grabbed two crystals, placing one near the stasis cloth. It began to be slowly absorbed. Chak’s eyes widened as he watched a relic over a hundred years old vanish before him. A symbol of power to his family and tribe, a symbol of a king. Gone in seconds.

  Tok inserted the second crystal into a circular opening at the bottom of the lantern. He pressed a button, and a familiar whistling sound followed, sparks flying. Chak twitched, trying to move, but his legs were too heavy for his strength. He held his nephew closer to his face, moving him side to side as if begging to be spared.

  Tok looked confused as Chak stared at the lantern in fear.

  “No… look.”

  He placed his hand near it. “Warm.” Slowly, he moved the lantern near Chak’s body. Feeling the warmth rush through him, Chak relaxed slightly.

  “Here. This will help your body heal too.”

  Tok placed the stasis cloth on top of Chak. A field of red energy covered his body.

  “It was used for miners and construction workers,” Tok explained. “Whenever they had an accident, a cloth could mean life or death. It stops cuts, bruises, poison, or any form of injury from spreading. It only lasts about a day or so, depending on the injury. In your case… well, I hope Tik is running as fast as he can.”