The General
Looking around the neighborhood it was easy to see we were too late. The Thiríos had already done all of the damage they could and left. From the smell of the area they had been gone for about an hour. Humans laying dead in the street, slain like unwanted pests. Women, men, children all gone. It has always been amazing to me how many people can fit in such a contained space and at the same time nobody realizes how many people are actually living in it. It is as if they all turn a blind eye to their compacted living space. Even here, in what used to be called a nice quiet neighborhood, there are at least 60 adult bodies laying dead on the ground. Across the street is the charred remains of a church. The smell of burned human flesh is still pungent in the air. One of my warriors behind me makes a choking noise. It must be Tommy. He is still new enough that the sight of this shit still bothers him. He still thinks of his little sister and brother at home and puts them in each place we go. Hell he still goes by the name Tommy. That will change soon enough.
"Holy fucking shit girl," a newly healed warrior spat out, "what the fuck was that?"
"That," La Maestra spoke, "was the light of Raphael."
The healer and warrior on the ground startled easily at her voice. They are going to have to learn to do better than that if they are going to survive this. When they turn and see us the warrior pushes the little
healer behind him. Good. Already he is learning.
"Who are you people," he demands.
La Maestra doesn't even look at him. She is concerned about the little healer behind him. "Have you ever done that before," she asks in a tone that brokered no arguments. The little healer, trying to step around the warrior who was trying to guard her, gave up and shot him an annoyed look. "No," she said, "and I believe you were asked a question."
Good little healer. La Maestra will walk all over anybody that does not stand up to her. Of course the woman will still break the little healer. She's too powerful and knowledgeable not to. But at least this one will have the spirit and fire enough to not completely cave in.
The head healer smiles. "Of course young healer," she begins, "I am called La Maestra. I am the most powerful healer in this war. You will be coming with me and I will guide your training in becoming a healer to our warriors."
As she begins her typical speech on how it is such an honor to be a healer and to have gotten her attention I tune her out and begin to observe around me. One of the other warriors has approached the young man who was being healed earlier and explaining things to him in much simpler terms. Two others have begun making their way down the street, checking houses for any survivors. Next to me stand my archer on the right and my scout to my left.
"Why were we not in time," I ask my scout, "There is no excuse for us to have not been here in time to save at least some of them."
"I'm sorry General. As soon as I was able to see it I alerted you to it," the scout replied. The two warriors who had gone looking for survivors came back with a grim look on their faces. The thirios had gotten them all. If the little healer had not gotten to the warrior when she did and been able to call forth
her powers she would have been the sole survivor. Which would not be the worst killing by the thirios I had seen. Too often do they kill everybody they encounter. I look over at La Maestra and the little healer. She looks dazed. That isn't surprising. Often times the newest to the war are. My own novice warrior has a similar look on his face. When one is not raised to believe or to train his entire life in preparation for this war then it can feel like you have been run over by a steam roller.
" All of your beliefs will be shattered by the end of your training," my warrior begins, "everything you think you know about God and Lucifer are wrong so just get it out of your head. In this war we are all on the same team."
