Albie Jolted from his sleep grabbing for a chest wound that wasn't there. He felt a searing pain but under his pajamas was just his pail skin. Something was wrong he heard screaming and loud pops coming from outside. He began putting his cloths on when another pain stabbed into his back. He felt like someone had pierced his hart through his back and he fell to the ground half dressed unable to breathe for a moment. The young mage felt heat. With the help of the bed he stood up again trying to put on his cloths. The pain made him dizzy. He put on his harness of components and walked to the door were his cloak was hung. He stumbled; his steps uneasy. He made it to his cloak on the wall. He fell to a knee as he wrapped the cloak around himself. The sun would burn his skin greatly if he did not were it. He struggled for breath and sweat profusely. He climbed up on the wall and with an effort greater than it should have taken he opened the door to the bright world outside.

It was on fire. The village was on fire everywhere Albie looked the thatch roofs of the buildings were burning. Men were coming to his hut and the mill torches in one hand muskets in the other. They wore Yellow coats and tall fur hats. A few of the village men had a similar uniform stashed in a trunk somewhere. They were dressed like the kingdom's solders. Breathing still hurt and was getting worse. He couldn't stand. He reached out a hand for help, but the men looked at him and stood their distance. They seemed more interested in the mill than him.

"Sgt," said one man. "He looks sick to me. Do we have to get close?"

"No footman," Said the man with a triangle on his sleeve. "He will burn with the mill. Throw the torches before he gets out. The Lord said no survivors."

The man with the triangle on his sleeve through a torch at Albies house. The men around him did the same. One held a torch up to the mills turning blades catching them on fire.

"No!" cried Albie trying to crawl out of his building.

"He's going to get out," complained the triangle man. "Footman Bayonet him so he stays inside."

"Yes Sargent," said a tall soldier missing two of his lower front teeth. The man walked over and Stabbed the young mage.

"Ahh!" cried Albie as the blade pierced him. The man looked like he was reaching for Albies silver necklace when the bees flew at the man.

"Bees!" cried the solder who dropped his weapon and flailed his arms flailing to keep the bees away. The solder ran to his fellows who also ran from the bees. This left Ablie bleeding from a wound on his shoulder. His body felt hot and the building behind him was ablaze. He heard the queen be shriek in his mind as the hive caught fire. The young man crawled a little further from his burning hut. Tears and snot rolling down his face as the heat across his body felt more and more like fire. The pain of three wounds eating at him. He crawled until he reached the tall man's musket and decided he didn't want to try to crawl over it. His breathing was labored. He touched the shoulder wound with his hand and tried to use the moons light to heal himself, but the wound did not mend. He could not channel enough moonlight in the day to make his magic work.

Of course, that wouldn't work. The young mage knew that whenever a farmhand who had been hurt previously in the day would wait for night for healing. If it was serious, he would use a rats life force as the energy for healing. He could here the rats burning inside his hut. His bees were gone. All that was left was to dip into his own life force to heal himself. He changed his focus and a black light radiated from his hand stitching the flesh together. Albies mind grew light his body was filled with pain and the young man could not go further. The bright burning world turned Dark.