The Forest Aflame

Leonard

We burst into a clearing, a small grove untouched by the fires and war outside. In the center stood a young man, one hand resting gently on the shoulder of a knight kneeling at his feet. The young man looked remarkably boring, slightly shaggy blonde hair and facial features that were too plain to call attractive or ugly. The knight was gripping his hand with both arms, and I realized that they were trying to stand, trembling with exertion as they strained against that single hand. The knight wore elaborate armor lined with blue and black adornments, a sense of regal majesty that was completely eclipsed by the helplessness of their situation. Clearly, they were some sort of commander, and I gathered their skill probably matched their rank. That being said, their sword was on the ground beside them, unsheathed and worthless. The young man, finally noticing our presence, turned and stared at us with blank empty eyes. I watched Dorothy go pale, taking a step backward as she muttered obscenities under her breath. The young man gripped and pulled up violently, and I watched as the knight's entire shoulder was removed with no effort, leaving a jagged bleeding stump as the amputee fell to the ground screaming. The voice identified her as a woman, a fact that didn't help me, but that I was now devastatingly aware of. The young man threw the arm to the side, staring at us with a curious tilt to his head.

"...Leonard?" Dorothy whispered, her voice cracking.

"Wait, you KNOW HIM? Is he the warlock!?" I spoke in hushed distress, realizing 'Leonard' was staring at us with child-like interest.

"No, he...he had no talent with magic. None at all. He was...so very weak."

"Tell that to him." I gestured to the knight, who was already motionless on the floor, blood loss and shock having taken their toll. Jeanne took a step forward, standing in front of us and facing Leonard tensely.

"The stench of otherworldly corruption is overpowering...a demon resides in the flesh before us."

Out of respect for Dorothy, I took a step forward without my blade drawn, holding my hands up placatingly.

"Uh, Leonard was it? We're not here to fight. We just want to—

Leonard took an unnerving step towards me, drool dripping down the corner of his mouth. I quickly took a step back, a shiver crawling up my spine.

"Uh, hey Leonard. It really concerns me when you step forward without—"

He shambled forward another step, eyes disturbingly empty as I fought the urge to flee. Jeanne hadn't moved, standing by my side and watching him with a watchful gaze.

"Erm...Dorothy? Any ideas? I really don't want him to start ripping arms off." I glanced at the dead knight. "Or keep ripping arms off rather..."

Dorothy raised the corner of her lip slightly, before tapping her staff to her temple, and then pointing it at Leonard's head. She winced, before lowering the staff, shaking her head.

"His mind is gone. Jeanne was correct. The demon is controlling him like a marionette."

I turned to Dorothy in confusion.

"Wait he's not brain-damaged? Then why the hell is he shuffling at us like a zom—"

I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, leaning my upper body backwards as the haymaker roared past my head. The rush of wind that followed made my ears pop, that single punch thrown with another strength to tear my head clean off. Jeanne stepped forward and bashed Leonard in the face with her shield, sending him reeling back as I started to draw my sword from the scabbard. Before I could do anything though Dorothy let loose a battle cry, and Leonard flew back almost fifteen feet from an invisible force, landing on his back hard.