David slept through most of the remaining day, as did everyone. Along with Aura and Bert they huddled together in the large bed while Sofie tried to fit in David’s. Their exhaustion took its toll, knocking them out for several hours. By the time they woke up, it was already dark again, past midnight at least.

  David stood in the corner of their home; his back pressed against the wall as he watched Bert move. There was no rush in their movements, not anymore – they had around a month to reach a haven, but none of them could bear to remain in the village any longer.

  Not after what happened. The house was eerily silent, save for the rustling of supplies and the soft scrape of wood against wood as they packed.

  Aura knelt by the hearth. She rested enough to slowly move on her own, but she was still severely weakened, wincing with every move. She was carefully stacking flat discs of travel bread into a cloth bag.

  She had started sifting the flour and salt together as soon as she woke up. David had taken care of the physical parts of baking.

  The bread they had made was dry, the kind that could last weeks if necessary. It wasn’t meant to taste good – not very —only to keep them alive if the road proved too harsh for scavenging.

  Bert was at the table, tying bundles of jerky and dried vegetables with coarse string, emptying the safehouse under the house.

  Earlier he had left to try and nail together a cart for them to use. It ended up a shoddy, rushed construction, but it would do the job. He worked in silence.

  David glanced at Sophie, who was perched on a stool near the door, her green hair falling limply around her face. She held a small satchel in her lap, its contents sparse.

  She had nothing to take, aside from coal and ash. She couldn’t even find her parents’ bodies. She stared at the floor, her hands clenching around the strap of the bag.

  She’d said little since agreeing to come with them, her voice quiet and her eyes distant. David could see her loss in every movement.

  She seemed so fragile, so scaringly close to giving up on life.

  Aura finished her task and stood up, brushing flour off her hands.

  She limped towards the shed, probably to pack her alchemical essentials. It took her a while, but she came back swaying under the weight of the reinforced satchel, its leather straps worn but sturdy.

  David ran out to take the bag from her. It wasn’t heavy.

  David shifted uncomfortably, the sharpening stone he’d taken from the smithy pressing against his palm. He didn’t have much, but this was a necessity – even after the single night, the claws regrew a bit.

  If he wanted to keep his secrets, he’d have to file them down day by day.

  He turned the stone over in his hand, the rough surface catching the light. Tucked into his own satchel, now mostly empty, was the amulet Darryl had returned to him.

  He felt its weight with every step, a reminder of choices made, and consequences borne.

  “It’s a shame we don’t have a horse.” Bert said, breaking the silence. His voice was rough, worn from days of shouting and strain. He glanced at Aura, then at Sophie.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Aura nodded, her eyes scanning the room one last time. “Not like we ever needed it before.” She paused. “If we knew how it was going to end, we wouldn’t have stayed till the end. Nobody would have.”

  David didn’t say anything. He tightened his grip on the stone and moved to the door, stepping outside for a breath of air. The scene that met him was haunting. The village, once bustling with life, was now a ruin.

  Charred beams jutted out from blackened earth, and the acrid scent of smoke lingered in the air. Here and there, figures moved among the wreckage—some gathering what remained, others simply staring at the destruction with hollow eyes.

  You couldn’t save everyone –Those people would be left behind, stalking around like shades of their former selves. Their survival instincts would maybe keep them going, force them to scavenge for food – but by that point it would be too late.

  Aura joined him, her movements sluggish. She followed his gaze, as she gently caressed his head. “It’s hard to leave,” she said softly, her voice heavy with emotion. “You get used to it. But I’m still sorry we couldn’t protect you better.”

  Tears welled in David’s eyes. Even after all that happened, in her eyes he was a child to be protected. It didn’t feel… bad. It was calming, in a way. But he didn’t respond. He hugged into her, gently so as not to aggravate her many wounds.

  Hopefully one day he could be honest with her.

  Bert and Sophie emerged moments later, their bags packed and their expressions grim and detached, respectively.

  The four of them stood together, looking out at what was left of the village, their home. For a moment, the melancholy silence was only broken by their breaths. It would still be hours until dawn.

  Bert packed everything they deemed worthy enough into the cart and turned to the group. “We should go. If we leave now, we can make it far enough from monster lands by next nightfall.”

  Aura nodded, her eyes lingering on the village for a moment longer. “Let’s move.” she said quietly. She sat down between their supplies, her condition not allowing her longer walks. “I hope Vennevar accepts us behind its walls.”

  Bert got the cart rolling.

  David trotted along; his footsteps heavy as they began their journey. He glanced back only once, his eyes tracing the outlines of the burnt ruins. People staring after them. Judging. His chest tightened, guilt clawing at his heart.

  But that guilt was his alone, shaped by reckless choices and stupid emotions. As a household? Every one of them had done their parts. They gave it all. If other survivors couldn’t understand that, who cared?

  There wasn’t and there wouldn’t be anything to go back to. The only path left was forward. To Vennevar, the barrier city. And so, with an occasional squeak of the shaky cart, the four of them left the village seeking a new home.

  -=-=-

  He was old. So very old.

  So tired.

  “So? Why are you so somber all of a sudden?” The irritating creature spoke to him.

  He flared his mandibles, openly showing his discontentment. Those damnable fleshy things couldn’t even understand simple gestures without them being completely overdramatized.

  But he needed her.

  “I have lost. I can not feel it anymore. It died. We cannot find it anymore.” He tried to speak in a manner discernable to his ‘guest’. Among other faults, their hearing must have been permanently impaired.

  Her face changed color. Camouflage? Her coating didn’t change along with it and he saw her just fine, so clearly a poor attempt.

  “So? Can you find the experiment?” She pestered. “Do you even realize how important that is?”

  He had met and acquainted with more enjoyable flies.

  “I cannot find it. It ran. All will be slaughtered before a sweep succeeds.”

  Her face changed color again. Crimson? Wouldn’t be his first choice. She had no more words to say. She turned around and left his throne room emanating aggression.

  Humans.

  Didn’t matter. She comes back or she doesn’t. He will win in the end.

  After all–

  He was old. So very old.

  So tired.

  But beneath his carapace, a fire still burned.

  Hatred.

  The same hatred that once flooded the world.

  End of volume 1.