Chapter 2

“Misha follow me close please! We’re gonna fly out of this wood!” Chronoth cried over his shoulder, to Misha who was at the moment having a hard time catching up his speed.

While running and leaping, Chronoth tried to unravel his confused mind. Mr. Frank was certainly assaulted by some sort of monsters. And they carried weapons. Proving those things were quite intelligent. They had certainly come in groups or pairs. And with preparation.

Far more dangerous than huge hungry beasts.

It might be too late. Their village might have already been assailed. A horrible vision suddenly bloomed fiery in his mind. Houses blazing. Villagers being stabbed. Children caged and carried away. Fodders combusting. Roofs furiously ablaze. And more adults being butchered by axes. Viciously hacked into pieces. Widows screaming. And burning, burning, and ---

“Chron watch out!” Misha yelled, warning him in a sudden cold of fear. And Chronoth instantly shot left, dodging a stooping branch full of sharp twigs --- something capable of slashing open his throat if he did not dodge on that last moment.

With gratitude and fear he focused back on the obstacles appearing in his view. He knew Mr. Frank had certainly come to them with his great steed, judging of how he was wounded yet still able to escape those monsters. Yet his horse might have already abandoned him, as he was seen alone when approaching them two. Certainly the hope to ride his fast steed back to the village was already gone.

But everything was not in vain. As there was still one horse left. The one waiting for them from where they had entered the wood. Their slower, far younger but loyal mount.

As the trees grew less and less, they saw something ahead of them. And there it was, their unfailing hope. Their faithful friend. Their horse, Tucker. As soon as Tucker saw them, he neighed long and happy, sneezing impatiently for them to come over. To Chronoth’s relief, there was not a sight of lofty black smoke when they were out into the vast grassland. There was not a sight of monsters. Nor was there any sight of dangerous threats or disturbing scenes.

Everything seemed fine. But Chronoth knew he must not let his guard down. This could be a thin ice of peace before the raging storm. He must hurry. Without further ado he hopped onto the horse, helping Misha up. And off they galloped, racing with the strong screaming winds and all the way back to their village.

Back to Stone Hearth.

* * *

Someone waitng outside of the village pointed at Misha and Chronoth as he saw the two emerging from the waving green field.

“It’s Chronoth and Misha! Call others! Somebody get their mum! Patrick and William, where are you?” the villager, Russell, gave a booming shout, alerting others behind him while trying to get some adults to come over and help.

“Mr. Russell! Ignore us we are fine!” Chronoth shouted as he approached. “But please alert all the villagers at once! Please do now! Danger is coming! We must act now or doom will be upon us!” He immediately leapt down from the horse as it came to a stop, while letting others to gently help Misha dismount.

“Calm down Chronoth! Someone get medicine men! They were wounded!” Russell cried out to the rest, terrified by his and Misha’s blood-dyed clothes.

“We’re fine we’re not hurt! The blood is not ours! It’s..., it’s Mr. Frank’s!” Chronoth replied desperately, trying to suppress his sorrow bursting all the way up with great force. “He sacrificed himself to alert us! He was lying near Herb Haven, inside the wood! Please send someone to help him! He.., he might have lost his life.., but ple…, please!” Chronoth clutched Russell’s arms. Trembling and desperate.

“Patrick and William, on to your horses! To Herb Haven now!” Russell cried, asking help from his fellow neighbours. He was like a chief of the village. “Bring a medicine man with you please! Frank is in grave injury! Hurry away and save him! We are counting on you!” Without another word Patrick and William sprang onto their horses, helping another man up and immediately darted, galloping away with fading thuds.

“Mr. Russell please alert all the villagers now!” Chronoth said aloud, regiving the warning entrusted by Frank. “Now or everything would be in vain! Some sort of monsters are coming towards us! Some sort of intelligent beasts! We must get help or everything would be too late!”

“Be calm, Chronoth,” Russell replied in worries, letting others guide Tucker back to his real owner. Back to George, who’s always happy to lend Chronoth his dear horse, as though it was theirs.

“We have received similar news,” Russell continued, leading Chronoth and Misha to the centre of Stone Hearth, of where their mother was on her way to meet them. “But we fear.., we fear things might be too late.” Russell said in great distress. “They came fast. We could not believe it was them. They have betrayed us. They have fooled us. They have betrayed the promised peace….”

Chronoth blinked, “They..? You know them? Who.., who are you talk—”

“Misha, Chron!” a worried yet familiar voice suddenly called out on them, grabbing all of their attention.

“Mommy!” Misha immediately responded, rushing towards the source of the voice.

It was indeed their mum, Rachel. A ginger-haired and young looking lady. Though already in her 30’s, she seemed to be in her 25.

“Mommy we’re looking for you! Are you all right?” Misha said in concern, hugging her mum.

“I am all right of course! Dear! Are you both hurt?” Rachel, giving Misha a deep hug in return, turned to Chronoth, asking in worries.

The same worries she had for Misha.

“Mum we’re all right,” Chronoth replied in guilt. “The blood is not ours…, it’s from Frank. It’s…, it’s all his blood,” he continued in a far greater remorse. He hoped...., he truly hoped the blood was not Frank’s.

But his.

He himself’s.

It should be his.

Frank should not have suffered such a harrowing assault. Unlike him, Frank was a good man.

“Frank? Dear! How was he? Was he badly wounded?” Rachel said in concern.

“Do not worry, Rachel,” Russell interrupted, knowing to recount the details again might be too much for the children. “We have sent help. William and Patrick are on their way. Frank is a strong man, he would not die easily. Have trust in him Rachel,” he continued in a firm voice.

“Of course I would!” Rachel replied at once. “Frank is never weak, he must have survived., wouldn’t he..?”

“M.., Mr. Russell, ma.., may I speak to his family?” Chronoth gently interrupted and asked in distress.

“You.., you sure...., Chronoth?” ..….May I know why…?” Russell replied, unconsciously blinking his eyes. It was not easy for a teen like him to speak with the grieving.

“Yes…., Mr. Frank has entrusted Misha and me some words,” Chronoth said firmly. “We need to tell them.”

“You may.…, if that was your wish. I have no reason to stop you,” Russell replied in wonder, somehow surprised by his bravery. “News was being sent to his family. You may talk with them soon..”

“Thank you….”

The centre of the village soon grew into a clamour, people debating and talking aloud of what might happen to their homes. The fear of facing the unknown terrified them. Yet to their surprise, the answer soon came. The revelation. The breaking dawn.

“En... Enemies incoming! Or…. Orc…. Orcccs!!” A desperate, booming cry suddenly alarmed all of them. It was Sam, the news bearer and amateur scout of their village. He bolted in from outside of the village, running and panting in a breath-killing haste.

“Orcccs!! Orcs are coming!!” same news suddenly erupted from different parts of Stone Hearth, birthed by other desperate voices. Other similar scouts. “Orcs are coming! Flee! Flee!” Soon the village disintergrated into chaos, people bolting and shouting, women hugging their children with despairing howls and husbands urging their families to escape. Some desperately armed themselves with farming tools. Hoes, sickles, rusted rakes or whatever things they could find.

“There was nowhere to flee!” Sam suddenly cried with all his might, booming skywards and drowning out all other noises. He seemed too desperate to warn others. He seemed unstable. Thoroughly crushed by despair. “We have.., we have been beleaguered! We have been beleaguered! They have surrounded us! The army…, the army has surrounded us!”

“Peter and Eugene were no more!” other scouts cried aloud. “They.., they were caught.., they were caught and being dissected to pieces alive…. Blood.., blood spraying out of all their body parts!” One of them involuntarily broke down, lamenting for his comrades.

“Why is the reinforcement not coming yet?” The scout, Joe, questioned in disbelief and extreme anger. “Why is the king not sending out his armies? There was not a sight or news of his armies! Why? We have been so loyal to the kingdom! We… We have been paying them tax! We have been paying so much tax! Why…, why did they choose to abandon us..?”

Many cowered in terror when they heard the reinforcements were not being sent, others breaking down in tears and screams.

Their last hope suddenly no more. They had been deceived. Exploited, wrung dried and deserted.

“It.., it was true,” Rachel suddenly mumbled, remembering something terrifying.

Something more terrifying than orcs.

“Mo... Mommy.., wh.., what was true?” Misha heard the faint words, growing even more worried.

“It.., it was all true..,” Rachel seemed not noticing Misha’s word, mumbling to herself in extreme fear. “Wh…., why? It.., it should have passed. I.., I have been so observative..,” she said, trembling. “I have been so alert..., wh.., why?” Her pupils dilated, as though she couldn’t hear others speaking to her.

“The orcs would betray the peace..,” she continued in a daze, trembling while speaking incoherently to others. “And they would beleaguer us.., and they would slaughter us.., and the kingdom would forsake us.., an.., and.., and we are the first place to be invaded..,” she stuttered out what was at the moment troubling her mind.

“It’s.., it’s all true...,” she spoke in an uncontrollable dread. “They are coming.”

“Th.., they? Mu… Mum.., did you mean the orcs?” Chronoth asked in bafflement, trying to understand what his mum had just murmured.

“No.., orcs are but nothing to them,” Rachel shook her head. “Orcs are but small and insignificant to them. They are the devourers of continents..…. They are destruction,” Rachel said. “It had begun. They are coming. Those things are coming. Ru.., run.., Chronoth and Misha.., they.., they are coming.”

“What.., what are coming.., Mum?” Misha asked in a freezing fear. This was not the mum she knew.

“The things,” Rachel replied. “It has begun to happen. They cannot be stopped. Those things cannot be stopped. Run.., Chron.., take Misha.., and run..,” she said. “We could not escape, but you can. I trust in you, Chron. You can escape. You must escape. With Misha.”

Rachel knew she must let them go now. She couldn’t be selfish. They must go now. They must leave. Only.., only that she couldn’t control her emotion. She might not see them again.

No. She would certainly not see them again.

“Lis.., listen..,” Rachel clutched Chronoth’s left shoulder and Misha’s right. “There.., there is something I must tell you two,” she stammered slowly, trying hard to keep her voice clear and in control. “I.., I am sorry I have been furious at both of you in several occasions, but please understand.., please.., listen.., please..,” she paused, gazing at them with full affection as though she was taking her last few breaths.

“I love you two, Chronoth and Misha..., I truly love you both,” she continued, eyes gleaming with heavy moisture. “You two were like the greatest treasure gifted by God. And I thank God I have you. I thank God that you two have come into my life. Words cannot describe how much I love you..., and I wish..., I wish I could be with you two always...…, I truly wish so....,” she said truthfully, a tear rolling down her dust-smeared cheeks.

“Mu.., mum.., wh.., why are you saying this all of a sudden?” Misha interrupted, unable to hold back her tears. She felt love but also fear from her mum. An unexplainable fear. A deep fear.

The fear of losing each other.

“Misha.., come here.., please,” Rachel asked her daughter to come closer, soon giving her a deep hug.

“I have said it and would say it again,” she tried her best to smile at her, unable to stop her rattling heart. “I love you, Misha. You are like a little imp but also the best daughter I could ever have,” she said. “And I cherish you. I could never let you suffer again. Never. Even with the sacrifice of my own life.”

“Mo.., mommy..,” Misha stared at Rachel, touched but immensely troubled.

“Chron..,” Rachel released Misha, turning to Chronoth. “I have always been so unfair. Always showing more love to your sister. But know this.…., please.., that I love you as much as I love Misha. Forgive me Chron.., forgive me for not giving you the love you deserve.......”

You are the best mother I could have ever had. I am the one who should ask for forgiveness. Not you. Mum. Not you…

Chronoth did not say what he uttered aloud mentally. “M.., mum.., stop talking like this,” he said other words instead, unable to pour out what was at the moment speaking deep inside his heart. “There’s still time. Let us ru…., ru…, r….”

“Calm down! All of you!” The village chief, Alexandrov, finally came into the centre of Stone Hearth and boomed, inundating the voices of all the villagers. He was at the moment not only speaking to the three, but others as well. In an effort to rally every villager. “Fear not and panic not! Be strong, my dear Stone Hearthians! Listen to my words! Be courageous. Be brave! We are not cowards but warriors! We are not awaiting the slaughter but the slaughterers! Remember, we are not the timid but the terror! Do not forget how many challenges we have faced and crushed and conquered and this is but another stepping stone for us to triumph over!”

“Be fearless!” Alexandrov continued, currently standing about 12 feet away from Rachel. “Be ready and grab whatever weapons you could find! Orcs are coming to take our homes and children and wives! Are we going to let them take whatever they want?”

“No!” Many villagers cried aloud, valour and fury gradually awakened by their chief.

“Are we going to kneel here and let them slaughter us like sheep?”

“No!”

“Aye! Be valiant and grab your weapons now!” Alexandrov thundered. “We shall show them what we truly are! We shall show them no mercy! We shall skin them! We shall kill them! And kill them! And kill them! And –”

A ground-shaking blast.

The earth shuddered. It was a projectile hurled by an outlandish catapult. Hurled by the faraway orcs.

And it exploded right in the centre of the village.

Right on Alexandrov.

And he’s gone. Bursting into blood and bones.

The impact was so great that it blasted away Chron, Misha, Rachel and others listening near to the chief, at the same time shattering several standing right next to him.

Chronoth suddenly felt afloat on the ground. He felt his arms and feet abruptly gone. He felt the sky turning above him. And he felt deaf, seeing others shouting tearfully but not hearing a word from them.

Without a long halt, others projectiles swooped in, explosing across the village. The ground shook, villagers running and screaming in extreme terror. Chronoth tried his best to crawl to his feet, fighting against the stubborn numbness and spinning surroundings.

Dust fogging the houses. Smokes pillaring up. Little flames bellowing and spitting. Soon a sound like whistling wind began to enter Chronoth’s ears and unclog his canals and before long his hearing was fortunately revived. With all his might he clung to a timber support and slowly got back to his feet, panting and staggering. To his relief, he found Misha leaning against him, clutching his arm and puffing in fear.

But something abruptly captured his full attention. Something tall. Something unnerving. As soon as a storm of dust gave way ahead of Chronoth --- revealing something great like sliding curtains --- the figure appeared. He stood unmatched. Untouchable. And Chronoth knew who he was. Their worst enemy. Their worst nightmare.

The orc.

Great, towering and muscular.

With two tusks jutting up from his mouth.

The orc warrior slowly advanced, moving his gaze and before long spotted Chronoth and Misha. Without paying the slightest attention to others, he trudged towards the two, slowly rising his massive double-axe. To Chronoth’s horror, he was not targeting the adults around him. But them two. The orcs wanted to kill children first.

Their priority. Murdering children first.

The matte-green orc had only one eye, the other marred. Blind. Crossed by a short scar on his savage face. Chronoth and Misha froze. They knew they had to run. They had to. Now or never. But the gleaming eye seemed to petrify them, having them rooted deep to the ground.

But something happened on that moment. Something horrific. The orc could suddenly move no more. To the orc’s surprise, he found himself unable to walk forwards.

Someone was clutching him. With two arms. Not a muscular man. Not a brave hero. Not a strong soldier.

But a female.

A mother.

Rachel.

Rachel had hurled herself and locked the orc in with her two arms, using all her strength.

“Run! Two of you!” she cried, urging them to flee.

“Mommy!” Misha cried in horror, clasping Chronoth hard, who was at the moment stunned by what he saw.

“Run! Now! Run! Please!” she begged aloud, knowing this couldn’t last long.

The orc seemed unbothered, continued walking forwards while dragging Rachel, yet quite surprised by how his speed was greatly slowed down by her. A great strength. An unexplainable strength. Feeling a little annoyed, he reached his hand to another weapon handy to be used if he wanted to get rid of an opponent too close to him. And he drew the weapon out.

A sharp, broad, gleaming dagger. And all of a sudden he stabbed Rachel.

Hard.

Deep and hard.

And blood. Blood spreading out.

Chronoth and Misha screamed, heart exploding in dread.