Anmerae remembered vividly when the scourge arrived.
There had been no warning, no alert, no outrunner. The war horns blared too late, a mournful deep moan against the smoke-tinged sky.
The growing dark hum from the south was all the indication they had that afternoon that something was amiss.
Within a minute, chaos enveloped the Dawnbreeze Farm.
Disgusting, howling undead swordmen roared their way from beyond the treeline into her family’s gardens and fields, cutting and gutting their way through her home, slaughtering her friends and family in front of her.
Anmerae, a petite brunette who spent much of her time outdoors, froze, paralyzed with shock. Her heart raced, pounding against her chest. A terrifying scream snapped her back to her senses, and she grabbed her stave...a weighted wooden rod seven feet long made years ago from a thick, dense, Eversong oak branch.
Quick on her feet, she swept her weapon with deadly accuracy, cracking bones and flipping one horrid creature onto it’s back where she mercilessly smashed in the skull, rendering the glowing eyes black. The farmhand shot her a thankful, yet panicked shout as he lunged away at another.
She whirled around, targeting another foul entity and stabbed her stave into it’s back, jerking all her weight to the side and downing the nasty creature. Another two whacks found the empty head rolling to the side.
Eyes wide, she scrambled toward the old blue barn where just a moment before she had heard the bloodcurdling screams. She skidded to a stop several feet away as flames leapt and roared from one side, the barn doors splintered and smashed into the dirt.
Out of the smoke and shadows burst forth a sword, with a blunt blade headed for Anmerae’s neck -- a horrifying skeleton screamed as it sought to end her existence.
As she stumbled backward, she closed her eyes as her stomach lurched with terror.
A sick crunch echoed in her ears, and she opened her eyes to see a larger, elegant broadsword protruding from the chest cavity of the angry undead. Anmerae trembled as she grabbed her fallen stave, swinging it like a bat to decapitate the monster. The body fell lifelessly, and a wave of relief washed over her as she ran to hug her father.
“Anmerae! By the Sun, child. You need to leave. NOW!” He squeezed her but a moment, and then shoved her toward the farmhouse with a sharp yell.
“No!” she barked back, gripping her stave with both hands, glaring in return. A strong hand grabbed her shoulder, gripping it firmly, thumb almost crushing her collarbone.
“That was an order.” he growled. “Or you WILL die here today.” he shouted, and shoved her off again. He whirled around and swung at another nightmare, easily parrying it and knocking it off balance with a heavy boot to the chest.
Anmerae fearfully scanned the area, her aquamarine eyes burning from the smoke overflowing the barn. One of the great beams broke free and crashed into the ground with a heavy thud, and she cringed, wiping a mixture of sweat and tears from her cheeks. Her barn. Her favorite place to hide away and relax...was disintegrating in seconds.
Her father felled another invader, and despite the odds, she closed her eyes, said a small prayer to the Light, and shuffled into a run toward the farmhouse to find her mother and sister.
The fight had not reached around the hillside where the farmhouse and smaller fields were nestled and protected by the steep grassy slopes. Anmerae threw down her stave and rushed inside to an empty home, plates half-set for an impending meal. She gasped and ducked into every room, angrily hitting the door frame with her fist. “Where are you!” she wailed, tears welling in her eyes. Mother. Ellara.
Anmerae scrambled back outside, sweeping up her stave and catching a flash from the corner of her eye. She looked toward the northern coast, saw the sparkle again in the short grass and sprinted toward it, recognizing it as Ellara’s necklace. Clever girl.
Scooping it up, she followed faint footsteps in the smushed grass heading up the hillside to the woods, and broke into a hurried jog--then a run. The air was cleaner and easier to breathe, but her chest was still reeling from the smoke down below.
Anmerae paused a moment to catch her breath against a tree and quickly heard a shout from a young girl. Ellara. She whirled around and was smushed into a hug from her weeping baby sister who buried her head in her chest. Anmerae squeezed her tight, relieved, and opened her eyes to their mother hustling them deeper into the woods.
“Ellara!” She spat, pulling her away from Anmerae and glaring at the sniffling teen as her small hand cupped Ellara’s chin with an iron gasp. Her whisper carried an anger that Anmerae had heard only twice in her lifetime. “You keep your voice down, and you make sure everyone stays quiet, low, and safe.” she fiercely snapped, and pointed Ellara toward the small group of 15-20 elves who huddled in the forest cover, quiet as mice, terrified. Many wept also as they heard the muffled cries of their brethren down the hill. Some were elderly, but some were young.
Anmerae started to speak, but her mother shushed her with a snap of her fingers, a flash of pain crossing her eyes. “They are terrified, Anmerae. They will die if they fight.”
“And they may very well die up here too.” she growled at her mother in return. “You rather them hide in the woods with you like rabbits? You were a battlemage. You can--” she jerked her hand in the direction of the group, and her mother’s expression steeled. She yanked Anmerae close and took a pained breath.
“I love you, my sweet daughter.” She whispered, frustrated. “Clearly you have your father’s stubbornness.” She grumbled, glancing woefully toward the fields for only a moment.
“If you want to fight, then I’m not going to stop you.” she whispered fiercely, staring at Anmerae with a renewed expression. “But I hope you are prepared to face your death, Light forbid, and that of your comrades, should it befall you.” she squeezed her daughter’s hands, her cerulean eyes flashing with a wisdom young Anmerae could not understand. “I could likely protect myself, you and your sister, and your father...but I could not protect a large group of people.” She admitted quietly, glancing at the ground, embarrassed and upset.
Ellara gazed at Anmerae curiously, wondering why she was not joining the group.
Anmerae held her mother’s stare for a few seconds, before she mumbled an “I love you” and began racing back down the hill with adrenaline flowing into her muscles.
She noted the farmhouse and gardens closest to the hills were still safe, but the barn was a blazing disaster. The undead had not ceased their march, but corpses now littered the edges of the fields.
Gripping her stave, she lunged into the fray with a tearful rage, decapitating the hateful abominations with all her might. She advanced toward the source of the monsters into her home, where the fields melded into the treeline. Her eyes scanned and searched for her father as she wreaked her own version of vengeance on these worthless scourge for daring to step foot on her homeland.
One skeleton down. Two down. Three down. She began to lose count, and the minutes faded into a quarter hour...then a full hour...and the sun began to give hints of edging into twilight.
Anmerae was tiring, but she kept searching, scanning the wooded edge with a growing sadness.
“Anmeraeeeee!” a female voice screeched, and she jerked her head left, catching her teenaged sister running toward her, a small shortsword in her hand. Oh, by the Sun. Ellara barely knew how to defend against a murloc.
Anmerae swore under her breath and jerked herself into a panicked sprint toward the fair-haired girl. She wasn’t a fighter.
Ellara had attracted attention.
Anmerae screamed a warning and launched her stave at the lunging banshee that Ellara never saw behind her.
The spectral claw raked through Ellara’s back, and she gasped, blue eyes locked on Anmerae. Her breath left her body, and she teetered on her feet until she fell forward onto her knees and crumpled to the ground. Anmerae heard nothing but a muffled silence as she stumbled forward, mouth agape.
The banshee screamed as two daggers sliced through it, shattering the magical bracers maintaining the spectral form. One of their friends had joined them, albeit a moment too late. A heartbroken expression and “I’m so sorry” was mouthed, before they had to take off running to the next fight.
Anmerae fell next to her sister sobbing, and scooped her into her arms. She carried her lifeless body toward the nearest sprawling tree, slumping against it.
“Oh Ellara why...” she sobbed, and hugged her sister close to her chest.
It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. They were supposed to beat back the scourge, she would find their father, and they would all go join the group up the road. The group her sister was supposed to be with, safe and sound.
Anmerae stared at the sweet face of her sister, resting peacefully, as tears constantly dripped down her cheeks to Ellara’s lovely face.
"I hope you are prepared to face your death, Light forbid, and that of your comrades, should it befall you.”
Her mother’s words echoed over and over in her mind, and she shook her head, squeezing her sister tight. She placed her hand on Ellara’s chest and rested her forehead on hers, sniffling.
“I wish it were me, Ellara.” she whispered. “I wish I could take your place, or heal your spirit.” she choked, and made a silent plea to no one in particular, offering part of herself to her sibling. Her heart ached. Her bones ached. In her mind, she wanted to give the very essence of her life if it would save Ellara’s. At a certain point, Anmerae could not pull from her spirit any longer, and felt her muscles and tears give way to sleep.
The flames from the barn illuminated the woods several hundred feet away as the sun began to drop below the horizon, and Anmerae felt her eyes close, mentally and physically exhausted. She fell asleep cradling her sister.
Above them, the great Eversong oak shielded them from the gentle rain that began to fall, as the scourge began to suddenly follow a different order, as if called from another part of the world to a new mission.
What Anmerae never saw as she fell asleep, was the soft green mist that swirled from her hands and chest to her sister, mending the gashes in her body and spirit before fading into the night.
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