Descent - Mattheo Riddle

Chapter twenty-two

"She's proof that you can walk through hell and still be an angel."

-r.h. Sin

Lucia

May 26th 10:00 p.m. , Pitt-Upon-Ford

As darkness cloaked the land, what should have been a tranquil night, where stars punctuated the sky with their serene light, was marred by an ominous blanket of smoke and soot. The once-clear heavens, usually a canvas of deep, enchanting blue, were now obscured, leaving no trace of celestial glow. This night, far from peaceful, echoed with the chaos of devastation.

Beneath the smoke-laden sky, the quaint village, previously a bastion of familial warmth and idyllic life, was now engulfed in flames. The air was rent with the harrowing sounds of despair—children's cries pierced the night, women's sobs filled the air, and men's shouts of defiance rose as they fought against the onslaught. The knowledge that this havoc was a result of our mere presence was a weight too heavy to bear. The Death Eaters, in their relentless hunt for us, had laid waste to innocent lives, ravaging village after village in their wake.

"Lucia," Mattheo's voice was a hushed urgency as we crouched behind the remnants of what was once a stall. "We have to get out of here. Now!"

"No," I countered firmly, the resolve in my voice mirroring the determination in my heart. "Mattheo, they're here because of us. This destruction, it's on our hands. We can't just flee; we must intervene!"

"But Lucia, if we engage now, they'll pursue us relentlessly—if we even survive the encounter," he argued, the practicality of his tone clashing with the idealism of mine.

I stood my ground, pulling out my wand with a resolute flick. "If you won't help, then I'll go alone," I declared, rising to full height.

I heard Mattheo mutter a curse under his breath before his footsteps echoed mine, a reluctant ally in the cause. A slight grin crossed my lips despite the grim circumstances.

We moved with stealth, aware that a headlong rush into the fray would be suicidal. Yet, the deeper we ventured into the village, the more palpable the devastation became. The air was thick with the stench of scorched earth and blood; homes lay in ruins, fields were aflame, and the wounded littered the ground—a stark testament to Voldemort's ruthlessness.

Pressing against a charred wall, I peered around the corner. Death Eaters marched through the remnants of the village with chilling indifference, their presence a grim reminder of the dark days under Voldemort's reign.

With Mattheo close behind, I cautiously rounded the building. Suddenly, I heard him whisper spells under his breath, quickly followed by the cries of two Death Eaters. Whether they were dead or merely incapacitated, I couldn't tell—there was no time to check as chaos erupted around us.

"Over there!" a Death Eater bellowed, as footsteps surged toward us.

In moments, Mattheo and I were encircled, the air crackling with the magic of combat. Summoning every ounce of my strength, I conjured a protective shield around us. It shimmered weakly, a stark indication of the land's drained magical energies, leaving us dangerously vulnerable.

The night erupted into a fierce battle, the clash of spells illuminating the darkened village with flashes of deadly light. The air was thick with the scent of burning and the sharp tang of magic. Spells crackled through the night, lighting up the shattered village with their deadly luminescence. As Mattheo and I stood back-to-back, our wands were extensions of our will, casting shield spells in rapid succession to deflect the dark curses hurled at us by the Death Eaters. Each burst of light from our wands was met with an onslaught of dark magic, the force of which pushed us back step by step.