Fenva: A Village in Flames

Fenva scrambled toward her tribe's village, the scent of flames already reaching her.

The Viera had been on a hunt when she'd seen it: a column of inky-black smoke rising through the jungle canopy, directly where she knew her village to be. She knew these lands like the back of her hand, and she knew the quickest way to get there - but she also knew that no matter how fast she ran, she'd be too late. All she could do was hope that she was wrong.

As she drew near, she heard a hissed signal. To her right, kneeling behind the trunk of an ancient tree, was Mafre: the eldest huntress in the village, with over a hundred-years' worth of knowledge and instincts honed to a blade's edge. If anyone knew what to do, it would be her.

The huntress beckoned for Fenva to join her, and she quickly did. Mafre spoke in a hushed tone, peering occasionally past the tree toward the village. "I'm not sure what happened - I was returning from a hunt. It could be a raid, but we haven't heard from the Huahofn in—"

A flash of fire-light game from the village, and the trees shook with thunder. Fenva flinched, and slowly mustered the courage to peek past the tree.

Her eyes widened.

Beyond the crest of the hill, in the heart of the village, she saw a giant, gleaming-black beast, the likes of which she'd never seen before. Atop it rode a man clad in the same black, his face hidden behind a helm and mask. The beast reared up, and spat a ball of flame forward; another thunder-clap shook the village, and she could hear screams.

Fenva felt a hand on her shoulder, pulling her quickly back out of sight, leaning close to whisper. "We must not be seen! We will only have a chance if we can take the rider by surprise." A pause, and she hesitated. "But if we fail, and you can escape, you must. Go to the sacred grove, and wait for the others there. They will find you."

"Mafre—" The younger Viera started, but her protest was quickly cut off by a shake of the huntress' head.

"No. Do as I say, young one. The others must know what happened." Mafre reached for her bow, nocking an arrow. "For now, follow my lead. But if anything happens to me, go."

Fenva felt a pang in her chest; part of her wanted to protest, to defend the village to her dying breath, but the other part knew that the elder Viera was right. If anyone else made it out, they would only have a chance if they worked together.

"Fenva!" The huntress hissed, reaching out for the younger Viera's shoulder once more to snap her out of it. "Do you understand?"

"I— yes, Mafre. I understand." A nod, and Fenva reached for her own bow.

The huntress smiled, offering a squeeze to Fenva's shoulder; for a moment, she was once more the motherly, caring Mafre rather than the sharp, focused huntress. That deadly focus took back over, though, and she peered past the tree. "Then, follow."

She took the lead, and Fenva followed. They both approached carefully, hunched over low to avoid being spotted. There was naught but chaos ahead of them: the sounds of battle, the acrid stench of fire and smoke, the light-flashes and thunder-claps assaulting their eyes and ears. Drawing closer to the crest of the hill, they prepared to sight the beast and its rider—

—but then came a shout from their left.

A man clad in the same gleaming black stood there, holding a sword aloft and pointed at them. Mafre was the first to react; there were two of them and one of him, and they had bows when all he had was a sword. Blindingly fast, the huntress unleashed an arrow, her aim true as it struck his heart—

—and its stone head splintered against the man's armor.

The man chuckled, his voice hollow behind his mask. He spoke in an unfamiliar tongue and pointed his sword toward Mafre. There was a flash of light and a deafening thunder-clap. By the time Fenva had a chance to look toward the huntress, the elder Viera had already collapsed, blood pouring from her wound.

Fenva looked back to the man, her face pale with fear. If that gleaming armor could shrug off stone arrowheads so effortlessly, then her own stone weapons stood little chance against him, let alone against the beast rampaging in their village. The young Viera froze, and the man raised his sword toward her.

"Fenva!" Mafre's voice, weak and strained, yet managed to reach her through her terror. "Run, now!"

The younger Viera ducked, and a thunder-clap rang out again. A branch exploded into splinters, barely ten fulms behind where her head had been. Fenva looked toward Mafre, for a moment unable to bring herself to leave the huntress' side— but the man shouted something, and charged toward her.

Fenva ran.

She couldn't bring herself to look back. Behind her, she could hear a grunt of pain from Mafre; a yell of surprise from the man; the sound of two people falling to the ground and a brief struggle; another thunder-clap, and then silence.

Fenva ran, the sounds of battle and the shouts of the man echoing in her ears as she left her village behind, and her eyes swam with tears.