A Life for a Life | A Fantasy Short Story

Uproar

Kingdom of Amaryah

Day of Sorrow, 2739 DP

Daerish screamed.

The king's soldier braced his foot on Freyna's small body and yanked his sword free. The weapon glistened ruby red.

Daerish stared, horrified, at the broken body of his friend. Freyna had been a year younger than himself; she had seen only six winters... They had known each other their whole lives, played in the glade outside the city...

The world around him slowed. It was one of those moments where reality and the mind seemed to conjoin into one long drawn-out moment. His childhood innocence shattered like glass, spilling out like Freyna's still-warm blood. Like a frightened deer, his perceived safety fled. He had trusted in the king to keep them safe and yet... and yet the king had allowed traitors into his ranks.

The sluggish crawl of realization came rushing back with imploding force. Freyna's blood now flowed freely, coalescing way too fast on the cobblestones. The warm summer air blew back Daerish's hair, filling his nostrils with the scent of the morning's apple pie and iron-rich blood. He heard screams too close for comfort, cries too broken for what had been a beautiful morning. The sun had barely risen.

The soldier turned towards Daerish's scream and gave a cat's grin. Without a second thought, the soldier tore the king's crest from his shoulder patch and threw it into the growing red puddle. The golden lion on a field of purple gleamed in the summer sun. Already, Freyna's blood cast a harsh contrast against the king's symbol.

The red hadn't yet soaked through when Mother collected Daerish into her arms and ran into their home. While they were commoners, his father worked for a nobleman in an esteemed position. As a result, they could afford a house with rooms. He didn't have to share the common space with the hearth, his parents, and their goat. However, that meant she had more obstacles to maneuver around. She left a path of carnage in her wake—upended chairs, a shattered vase, anything and everything to slow the man down.

She burst through the back door, their gate, and onto the cobbled streets—

The houses and market shops of Amaryah were filled with screams. Over his mother's shoulder, Daerish saw the red that glistened between the cobblestones. The roads had grown garish veins. The streets themselves were full of death. An active battlefield and morgue.

Traitors dressed in the king's military garb slaughtered, abused, and tortured civilians. He turned his face away as a traitor grabbed a young woman and brutishly slammed her against the wall of Brennan's shop, his bloodied hand dropping to his belt.

I played with Freyna this morning... and now... and now...

His lip trembled. All he could see was her face contorted in pain, blue eyes full of unadulterated terror. Her blood. Her blood.

Mother froze at the sight of the massacre. Over her shoulder, Daerish caught sight of Freyna's murderer running towards them.

"Mother! Mother, he's here!"

She darted down an alleyway, bending around corners and weaving between buildings and more bloody skirmishes. But just before she made her turns, Daerish saw the murderous soldier.

And he was catching up.

"Mother!" he cried, clutching her tear-soaked shoulder.

She rounded yet another, and Daerish realized she hadn't been running aimlessly. They skittered to a stop in the sector's training grounds.