Raine’s eyes snapped open, hand clutching his chest. He expected a sharp pain but found nothing. He let out a breath of relief, thinking perhaps everything had been a dream. He grabbed the large silver pendant hanging around his neck and inspected it. Oddly, it looked huge in his hand. It was then that he noticed, it wasn’t the pendant that was large, but his hand was small. Infact, he felt small, fragile even.

  He frowned, pinching the top of his nose. This was the dream.

  He climbed out of bed and immediately moved to the window glowing with bright, orange light. He froze at the sight. The town was on fire. Everything was on fire. His heart sped up at the recent memory, heat he could still feel against his skin.

  Raine staggered briefly, when he heard a roar that silenced the cries and screams and the pendulum bell. He frantically glanced around, finally spotting a massive being flying straight towards the house, as the roar grew louder. Raine watched with wide eyes, then he noticed its wings. They weren’t moving. The creature wasn’t flying, it was it falling, falling in his direction. Before he could even think, the being crashed into the house. He threw himself to the ground, accepting his fate, and was thrown violently against the opposite wall as the creature obliterated the other half of the house, cleaving it clean in two.

  The wall was gone and with it, the fog and heat and the noise crept into his metaphorical jail.

  He told himself to move, run, jump out. Do anything! But his feeble legs wouldn’t move. He cursed at himself when something, or someone, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the side. Raine’s mind went blank, in a cluster of blurred motions, as the person frantically rushed him out of the collapsing building.

  Once outside, Raine could finally see the devastation behind him, and the creature that caused it.

  The stone under its feet cracked like glass; the walls that remained standing curled into themselves, melting like syrup in bursts of bright red and orange.

  A titanic creature with four legs and a pair of wide wings pulled itself from the wreckage and turned, facing Raine. Its sheer height rivalled the felled world tree, and its width spanned more than several of the thatched houses in Lobos. Its skin was scaly, a mix of crimson and black; its eyes shone bright gold, and its claws were long, sharp and curved, like knives.

  The creature staggered forward, tail swiping wildly behind it. It ignored Raine completely.

  A dragon?!

  That’s when he noticed the swords. Several were embedded in the dragon’s chest, another in his front-right leg and two in the back. They were all a shade of sky blue, purple, or pink; hilts decorated with jewels and wings shaped from precious metals. They were bigger than any great sword Raine had ever seen, impossible for any human, dwarf or beastfolk hand to wield.

  The dragon used it’s claws to rip the blades from its chest, snapping off the rest. Bright golden blood flowed from his wounds, a mixture of gelatinous blubber and something similar to mercury. The dragon seemed unperturbed by its injuries and for what little Raine knew about dragons, he had read their blood ran so hot that it could melt metal.

  Its roar was like an explosion. Raine covered his ears and writhed in pain. He couldn’t hear anything besides the ringing that accompanied the vibrations he could feel within him.

  Then the dragon took off into the night sky. Raine dropped his hands, his hearing returning as he watched the beast fly off in awe.

  A voice called to him. Was it a man? A woman? Raine couldn’t tell. His vision blurred, like that of a foggy memory.

  What are you saying? Who are you?

  Raine could swear he saw the persons lips moving, but the words made no sense. Or perhaps he was still shellshocked, the ringing in his ears a nagging companion.

  Raine could sense of urgency in the person’s voice.

  Why is it all so distorted? His thoughts tried to connect the broken pieces of the puzzle placed in front of him.

  Another voice rang. A young voice, a lot more distant. “Are you alright?”

  Raine’s attention was drawn to the new voice. The large person in front of him, the collapsed building, the burning nightmare grew distant. Slowly fading into a crumbling memory of a morning dream.

  “Don’t worry friend. I’ll get you out of here.”

  A familiar pain pulsed through his chest again. His consciousness blurred as he struggled to open his eyes.

  Am I being moved? His thoughts raced.

  He shifted uncomfortably, realising his feet were being dragged along the floor. His hands flailed helplessly, not a semblance of strength left in them. After a struggle to open his eyes, he peered upward and even though the light was quite dim, it hurt to look.

  “Another dream?” Raine mumbled to his rescuer.

  “I’m afraid not.” The person replied.

  “What do you…” Raine stopped mid-question as he looked around him. Everything was covered in ashes. The town was gone. He bit his trembling lip.

  It’s still a dream. It must be. He kept repeating in his mind. However, the pain he could feel was real. The smell of smoke and the cold feeling of stones beneath his back were unmistakable, but before he could say anything else, he’d passed out again.

  “Don’t rush it.”

  Raine turned to face the speaker. It was already morning. He had slept through the entire night.

  “Are you feeling any better?” The scrapper asked.

  Raine ignored the question, staring blankly in front of him. His clenched hands were fisted so tight he drew blood from crescent shaped wounds.

  The scrapper decided to not push the issue and sat down besides the distraught lumberjack.

  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Raine tightened his fists further, eyes trained on the horizon. A long silence ensued.

  “It might feel hopeless right now, but you’ll pull through. Trust me.” The scrapper reassured him.

  Raine frowned. “What would someone like you know? You don’t have anyone…” Raine raised his voice, but stopped as soon as he faced the young scrapper.

  His light green eyes were gentle yet filled with anguish, a deep ocean of sorrow. Raine could see it as clear as the sky above him. He was alone as well. Of course he was, why else would one be a scrapper? He felt guilty.

  “I’m sorry. I should not have said that.” Raine apologized.

  “It’s alright. I understand what you’re going through is anything but easy.” The scrapper replied and though his voice didn’t carry any resentment, there was a hint of sadness in it.

  Raine slowly turned to face him and with an empty, lifeless voice asked. “How do I face it?”

  The scrapper didn’t say anything at first. With a faint, sad smile he locked eyes with Raine, then he clasped his shoulder. “We’ll do it together.”

  The scent of smoke lingered in the air. The wind carried chunks of ash that resembled white and grey petals, slowly falling to cover the ground like thick snow.

  The scrapper hadn’t carried Raine far. They were on farmer Winston’s field, just outside the town. Just outside the flames reach.

  Raine crawled towards a small stream that flowed into a nearby river. It was a spot he often came to whenever he needed a moment alone. He paused momentarily, his eyes darting across his hands that were covered in soot and dried blood. “Were there any others-.” He stuttered, voice shaking. “-besides me?”

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  The scrapper massaged his forehead as he mulled over how to break the news. He opted for the direct approach. “I’m afraid not. I’ve never seen so much death and destruction before and I scavenge battlefields...”

  Raine responded with a nod, as if he already expected the answer.

  “How about a girl with a broken arm? Last, I saw her was-.”

  “There was none.” The scrapper interrupted. “Trust me. I’ve checked everywhere.”

  Raines’ heart dropped at the harsh truth.

  “I’ve got to go back. I’ve got to find my parents. I’ve got to at least bury them.” Raine stammered whilst fighting back tears.

  “Can you even walk right now?”

  “I’ll crawl back if I have to.” Raine grit his teeth.

  The scrapper let out a slow, deep sigh. “You won’t like what you see.” He outstretched his hand. “The name’s Lynn, for what it’s worth.” Said the scrapper as he helped Raine back on his feet.

  “Raine.”

  Lynn followed behind as Raine began to limp towards the town. It didn’t take long for the foul stench of burnt flesh, ash and blood to make Raine nauseous. Lynn grabbed a piece of cloth and covered his mouth; then he handed a similar piece to Raine and gestured for him to do the same.

  It was a ghost town. Raine knew he was likely the only survivor.

  But knowing it and seeing it, were two very different things. The sight of charred skeletal corpses, their flesh rendered black; every building and structure gone overnight, with nothing but a handful of vestigial remains left standing. It was enough to break a grown man.

  There was something strange about the fire. It burnt even when there was nothing to burn remaining. It flickered as if rebelling against the wind, that should’ve smothered it.

  They slowly pushed on, eventually reaching the town square where they froze. The sight in front of them made no sense to Raine. Corpses were amassed in a towering pile like an offering in front of the bell tower, which miraculously stood untouched by the destruction, proud and pristine.

  Raine’s eyes darted between the burnt shapes that were scattered in front of the town like a cluster of stones. He didn’t remember seeing them before; and only after closing the distance did, he notice that the shapes were also people. They were prostrated on the ground, much like the scene he witnessed during the Sacrament.

  When Raine got close enough, he could make out the faces of the people who had gathered for the festival. He could recognize each of them. Tears trailed down Raine’s face as his entire body shuddered. He was holding them back for so long that it felt like they would never come out.

  His neighbours, his friends; all the faces, all the smiles, all the stories. Each memory hit him like a punch in the gut. The guilt and regret of somehow being the only one to make it out alive made him want to disappear.

  The pain was intense, a pressure that seized his entire body, threatening to break it apart. His hands trembled as he collapsed to his knees.

  Nothing made sense. Why did this happen? Who caused this? Was it aimed at him?

  The thought had lingered ever since he’d woken. The way that person had talked. It gave him an unsettling feeling. Had those words been aimed at him? As if they had been looking for him.

  “We should move.” Lynn urged. “It’s not safe to linger in a place like this.”

  “This place-.” Raine scowled, frustration etched onto his face. “-Is my home.”

  “Be that as it may and as rude as this will sound, everyone here is dead. And there is enough filth in the air to give you Grave Fever. We really shouldn’t linger and we’ve yet to bury your parents.”

  Lynn’s words struck through Raine’s guilt, reminding him of their purpose here.

  It took fifteen minutes to reach the place where Raine’s home used to be. He couldn’t tell if the pain from his heart or from his legs was worse.

  The fire was resilient, stubborn. As though willed into existence and left behind. Lynn tried to throw a heap of dirt to smother it, too little effect. He frowned at the result and ran to catch up to Raine who had just arrived at his home.

  “You sure about this?” Lynn asked. “I can-.”

  “No.” Raine interrupted with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’ll manage.” Though his shaky posture sang the opposite story.

  The rubble of his home was still smouldering.

  There were two corpses, both burned beyond recognition. The first lay on its back, head tilted. Their chest was crushed and there was a gaping hole the size of a man’s fist through its stomach. The only recognisable thing was the pendant strung around its neck.

  Pauel Hensley, 15th day of the 10th month, year 1358.

  “Father…” Raine cried out, before his eyes locked onto the second body.

  It was face down, a large gash across its neck. He reached for the pendant.

  Olga Horvat Hensley, 13th day of the 6th month, year 1363.

  He sat in utter stillness, eyes glued to his parents’ bodies, hands clutched around their charred pendants.

  There was no funeral. No processions, no words, songs or prayers. No one to mourn besides Raine and Lynn. They buried Pauel and Olga Hensley in the garden of their loving home.

  Raine had never cried more than this day. He cried until there were no more tears left to shed. Lynn had to pull him away, which barely proved a challenge as Raine had no strength to resist.

  At dawn the next morning, Raine sat next to a small mound of cinders, gaze empty as he stared at it.

  Lynn brought some food he had salvaged from a few surviving cellars. It was a handful of apples, some dried fruit and a pork sausage. He did wash off the thin layer of ash that had covered most of it, though the very distinct smoky smell remained. It didn’t necessarily inspire appetite, but given their state, everything was more than welcome.

  “Nothing we say or do will bring your parents or the other townsfolk back.” He stated.

  Lynn sat down next to Raine and placed the satchel of food between them. He grabbed an apple and bit into it, making a loud and intentional crunch.

  “These are quite good.” He proclaimed while chewing.

  Raine reached for an apple but simply rotated it in the cradle of his palm. He knew he should eat. His mother would’ve scolded him.

  But she was gone.

  Lynn broke the silence with a question. “Have you thought about what to do after this?”

  Raine raised an eyebrow but quickly lowered it. He shook his head and let out a barely audible: “No.”

  There was an awkward silence for a while, as Lynn didn’t want to be intrusive. To his surprise, it was Raine who spoke up first.

  “I only know one thing for certain. I want revenge.”

  Lynn looked at him in surprise, though he did understand where Raine was coming from. But where to even start?

  “Whoever or whatever burnt down Lobos, I want to slay them by my own hand.” Raine exclaimed, his tone steady and without a hint of hesitation.

  “Whatever? You don’t believe it was human? Bandits. The army. There’s a lot of potential culprits.”

  “That thing wasn’t human. It may have taken the form of one, but-.” Raine explained, shaking his head. “No human could do that.” He pointed toward the town, a mass of cinders and ash.

  Lynn leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands as he considered the situation.

  “If that’s the case, could be anything really.” He dropped his posture and lay on the ground facing the sky. It was clear, completely blue without a hint of cloud. The exact opposite to the murky grey that surrounded them. “Could’ve been an elemental master – their strength as you saw the other day, can easily rival that of a dragon.”

  “No. This th-thing, it spoke down to its companion, a human. Another human wouldn’t speak like that.” Raine was sure of it. He had gone over that conversation a million times in his head since.

  “Oh, you meant that quite literally?” Lynn realised.

  Raine nodded.

  Lynn replied with a whistle. “Dragons in stories were supposedly able to take any form, though I haven’t actually ever seen one myself.” He speculated, as he mulled the idea over. “To be fair, up until now I’ve never really gave them much thought. They are supposedly still prominent in Central, but in these parts, I don’t think one has been sighted in our lifetime.”

  “You don’t believe me?” Raine blustered. He was sure a dragon had destroyed his home, his town, his life.

  Lynn sat back up and faced Raine. “The opposite actually.” He stated. “I find it weird that if they are so prominent, why has no one ever seen one? Had you not survived, no one would ever even consider such a thing.”

  “Yeah.” Raine nodded, both glad and relieved to have Lynn’s support. “But, how does one fight a dragon?” He asked, not deterred over the magnitude of his supposed foe.

  “Oh, that part is both quite simple and extremely hard.” Lynn replied.

  Raine looked at him incredulously.

  “The easy part? Finding us a master that’ll teach us the elemental arts.”

  Raine’s eye twitched at the statement. That was the easy part?

  “The hard part? Learning how to use our cores. Becoming an elemental user is really the only way to ever face a dragon and hope to stand a chance.” Lynn explained.

  Raine was quiet for a moment, considering what Lynn had just told him.

  “We?” Raine exclaimed.

  “Yep. I’m coming with you.” Lynn stated matter-of-factly.

  Raine’s mind raced at the statement and all he could say was the most ridiculous thing that kept appearing in his mind. “Why?”

  “Let’s just say, we both had our good and bad experiences in life. And though your worst one just happened, me meeting you was one of my best.” Lynn explained, his tone suddenly serious. He had the same sad look in his eyes that Raine noticed the first time they met. “Living day to day, without a clear goal is no life at all and had I not met you-.” He stopped, gnawing his lip. “-There’s a high likelihood I wouldn’t be around anymore.”

  Raine’s eyes rounded as the meaning behind those words settled in. Raine didn’t know what Lynn had been through to drive him to such place, but he was glad he didn’t. He said as much, which earned him a soft, earnest smile from the scrapper.

  Raine realised in that moment, they shared two sides of the same coin now. Though they’d grown up under completely different circumstances and lived different experiences, they’d ended up in the exact same place.

  Alone.

  Their journey set, they had one last thing to do before heading north: scavenge the village for any supplies that survived the fire and would prove useful for the journey ahead.

  Lynn did most of the heavy lifting, as his expertise in the field couldn’t be overlooked. They were in the middle of clearing out the burnt smithy when Raine came across the charcoaled corpse. He reached for the pendant hanging around its neck.

  Brent Everett, 5th day of the 2nd month, year 1352.

  Raine clenched his fists and took a deep breath. There were no tears. His eyes slowly moved towards a box the corpse was clenching tightly, even in death. Raine carefully pried it loose from the smithy’s grasp and opened it.

  Inside was something wrapped in cloth and leather. Unwrapping it revealed a bright crimson axe with deep, blood red edges. A thing of brutal elegance.

  It had a rough texture, with a beard very much like the axe Raine had borrowed for the past week, the one he’d lost during the fires. Its blackened handle was wrapped in strips of boiled leather. It was bigger than your everyday axe; however, the size didn’t reflect its weight. It was perfectly balanced and, the edge was so fine it seemed to hum.

  “What’s that?” Asked Lynn. “Something valuable?”

  Raine faced him, a conflicted smile on his face, a single tear of happiness running down his face.

  “It-.” He sniffled, words refusing to leave his trembling mouth. “-It’s my birthday present.”