Breaking from the spell of his shock, he starts to run toward the village. May clutches his arm and holds him back. "Wait," she says when he tries to pull away. "Danger."
"They might need help!" He breaks free and runs as fast as he can. Stories, possibilities, run through his head. War? Fire in a storehouse? He hears, barely, May's footsteps on the grass behind him.
Charred wood and pieces of clay lie strewn across the streets; not a building is left intact. "Who did this?" Asher says again to himself.
"Asher!" May's voice calls him out from his mind. She stands by a collapsed building. He runs to her, and sees what made her call out: a blackened hand protrudes from the debris. "Help me."
A piece of the roof covers the person, so Asher lifts it up, his limbs shaking with the effort, while May pulls them out. As soon as she does he lets the roof fall, and sparks shoot up from within the building.
May's expression is despondent. The body they had pulled out belonged to a young woman, but now it lies still. Asher looks away.
A small gasp from May turns him back to her. She stares at the ground, fear drawn all over her face. Asher follows her gaze and sees, pressed into the dirt, the large, clawed footprint of some great beast.
So quietly that Asher almost doesn't hear it, May whispers, "They came."
YOU ARE READING
The Unending Epic Written to Appease a Friend, Tell a Tale, an...
FantasyEach day, the story grows. The tale begins when two lives are suddenly and irrevocably twined together, and a boy from a lonely farm and a girl without a people find themselves each other's only friend. Little by little the fabric of their lives wea...
