Ruvan spent the afternoon at the forge, hammering out iron rivets for the militia's new spearheads. The rhythmic clang of steel on anvil usually calmed him, but today each strike echoed like a warning bell.
His eyes kept drifting westward. The smoke was thicker than ever, spreading across the late afternoon sky. Shadows pooled beneath the forge awning as the sun dipped behind the hills.
Master Ferric worked beside him, shaping a long iron rod into a scythe blade. Sweat dripped from his thick grey beard. His powerful arms moved with practiced force, bending the metal to his will. But there was tension in his movements today – fast, sharp, impatient.
"Boy," Ferric grunted. "Fetch more coal from the shed."
Ruvan wiped his brow and set down the hammer. As he crossed the yard, the mule in its pen stomped nervously, ears flicking back. Birds screeched overhead, fleeing towards the forest. He frowned, glancing west again.
That was when he heard it.
A low rumble at first, like distant thunder. Then the sound grew – harsh, rhythmic, metallic. Horses' hooves. Armoured boots.
Screams.
He dropped the coal bucket, heart hammering as he ran back towards the forge. Villagers poured into the street, their faces twisted in panic. Mothers grabbed children, merchants slammed shutters. Militia men shouted orders, spears raised as they ran past.
"RAIDERS!" someone screamed. "THEY'RE HERE! RAIDERS!"
Ruvan froze. His knees felt weak, but he forced himself to move. He reached the forge entrance just as Ferric stepped outside, holding his heavy forging hammer like a war club.
"Get inside, boy!" Ferric barked. "Hide under the coal bin. Don't come out until I say."
But Ruvan couldn't move. His eyes widened as riders thundered into Saerholm's square. There were dozens of them, cloaked in black leather and iron plate, their faces hidden behind horned helmets. Soot-black banners fluttered behind them, marked with a crude white spiral.
One rider swung down from his horse, dragging a farmer into the dirt and slitting his throat with a hooked blade. Blood sprayed across the cobbles. Women screamed. Children cried.
"GET INSIDE, RUVAN!" Ferric roared, pushing him backwards.
But before he could obey, a raider charged them. Ferric swung his forging hammer with a roar. The blow smashed into the raider's shoulder, crumpling his armour with a sickening crunch. The man fell screaming.
Another raider lunged forward, stabbing Ferric in the side with a jagged spear. Ferric gasped, stumbling back. Blood poured between his fingers.
"MASTER!" Ruvan screamed, grabbing a poker from the forge. He swung it wildly, but another raider kicked him in the chest, sending him sprawling into the dirt.
The world spun around him. Smoke filled his nose. His ears rang from the screams, the clash of steel, the roar of fire.
Because fire was everywhere now.
A burning torch sailed overhead and smashed against the forge wall. Flames erupted across the dry timber and thatch roof. Heat blasted Ruvan's face. He scrambled to his feet, coughing, tears streaming down his cheeks.
"MASTER!" he cried again.
Ferric was on his knees, clutching his bleeding side. The raider who stabbed him stepped closer, raising his spear to finish the job.
"NO!" Ruvan screamed. Rage and terror exploded in his chest. He charged forward, swinging the iron poker with all his strength.
It clanged off the raider's helmet, stunning him for a split second. Ferric seized the moment, grabbing his forging hammer with both hands and smashing it upwards into the man's jaw. Bone cracked. Teeth flew. The raider collapsed, twitching.
But Ferric sagged forward, coughing blood onto the dirt.
"Master, get up!" Ruvan sobbed, grabbing his arm. "We have to go! The forge is burning—"
Ferric looked at him, eyes filled with pain and fierce pride. He reached up with a trembling hand and cupped Ruvan's cheek.
"Listen… to me… boy," he rasped. "Live. Forge. One day… you will forge a blade that changes everything."
"Don't say that! Please—"
But Ferric pushed him away weakly. His gaze drifted towards the forge as flames roared higher, black smoke billowing into the sky. The roof collapsed inward with a thunderous crash, sending sparks shooting into the darkening street.
More raiders poured past them, looting shops, dragging people from their homes. One kicked Ferric onto his back. Another raised a sword to strike him down, but Ferric didn't resist. His eyes were closed, lips moving in silent prayer.
Ruvan lunged forward, screaming, but strong hands grabbed him from behind and dragged him away.
"No! Let me go! MASTER!"
He twisted around and saw Old Marrick clutching him tightly, half dragging, half carrying him down an alley behind the forge. Marrick's eyes were wild with terror.
"Leave him, boy!" Marrick shouted. "He's gone! You can't save him! RUN!"
Ruvan fought him with every step, screaming Ferric's name until his voice broke. But Marrick didn't let go. They stumbled through smoke-filled streets as Saerholm burned around them. The screams of the dying echoed against stone walls. Flames lit the sky blood-red.
They hid in a ruined tannery, crouching behind barrels of rancid water. Ruvan's body shook violently. Tears streamed down his ash-smudged face. His hands clenched until his nails dug bloody crescents into his palms.
Through a crack in the boarded window, he saw the forge collapse completely. Sparks rose into the smoky dusk like fireflies. The only home he had ever known, gone in a single night.
"He was… he was all I had left…" Ruvan whispered brokenly.
Marrick pulled him close, his old hands rough and trembling. "I know, lad. I know."
They huddled there as the raiders moved through the streets, dragging prisoners, looting what little the village possessed. The screams faded slowly, replaced by crackling flames and the snort of horses.
Night fell over Saerholm, cloaking its smouldering ruins in shadow.
Ruvan's chest felt empty. Cold. But under that coldness, something burned.
A promise.
One day, he vowed silently, I will forge a blade that cuts through darkness itself. For Master. For everyone they took.
He wiped his tears with the back of his bloodied hand. Outside, the raiders raised their horned helmets to the night sky, howling in victory.
But their victory was only for tonight.
Because as long as he drew breath, Ruvan swore he would rise.
And one day… they would all burn for what they had done.