My eyes shot open, and my vision was filled with an empty sky. The black hue of the night had transitioned into day long before I awoke, as the sun shone directly onto me.
How long had it been since then? A day? Longer? I wasn't sure. I placed my hands on the snow beside me and pushed off the ground. I tried to stand, but the left side of my chest began to bleed. Moving around too much must have re-opened it. The impact from before had left a deep wound, and I wasn't in a condition to treat it fully myself.
I pressed my right hand over it, clutching my side, as I pressed onwards in front of me. Ahead, was the ruins of my home. As far as I could see, houses burned to the ground, and a few lone standing walls remained, as well as ice pillars and walls, which would have normally melted or dispersed by now.
True ice. A special type of Ice which can only be created with magic, and rarely found naturally in areas with extreme magical concentrations. Its strength is like diamonds, unbreakable, and it contradicts all logic. It is hot to the touch and never melts. Only the caster can remove it.
Nothing was left of my home village. It was heartbreaking. But the shock had already settled in from the previous night.
I did a quick scan around me. I couldn't see any bodies. They either made it out safely from the last time I saw them, or there was nothing left. But that wouldn't happen. They're all strong. They had to have survived.
Just ahead of me, I noticed the spear that Litton had dropped. It was a family heirloom and must have been important to him. I held it in my left hand and used it as a walking stick to help steady myself.
I walked inwards towards the village. Maybe there was something left over for me to scavenge. Any of the grimoires that used to be held in our home would sell for plenty, and I could find enough coin to properly treat my wound.
All around me was rubble, and piles of debris. It had looked as if the homes had been picked clean already. Perhaps more time has passed than I thought? A week maybe?
I passed by my house, there wasn't much left. The front doorframe remained, as well as a single wall that blocked my view of the village center.
I looked around me, my books on water magic, and my brother's assortment of various books on other elements were all gone. Excluding a few books that had been burnt to a crisp, and remains of other furniture, nothing was here.
I turned myself to face the center of the village and walked around the wall that was blocking my view of it.
My heart froze. In the distance, standing at the village center, were three figures I couldn't make out well, standing next to a wooden carriage.
I nearly slipped as I tried to hide behind the wall. My heart began to beat back and forth rapidly. I was too scared to even look back there.
Who? Who would be here? The attackers should be gone. Why would they come back?
My legs froze, and my heart began to beat faster and faster.
"I'm going to check over here for anything we can scavenge." A young man's voice called out.
The sound of footsteps approaching caused me to panic. I pointed the spear in the direction of the sound and stared at the opening, ready to thrust forwards at any moment.
Then, I heard the footsteps stop. He peered around the corner. I felt my body freeze as we made eye contact. He didn't say anything yet; neither did I.
He had curly white hair and looked around my age. He was wearing a black tunic, with the royal crest on it, and white pants. The standard garb of a soldier. At his waist, was a sheathed longsword.
His mouth opened slightly. "Sir!" He called out and waved his hands in the direction of the town center. "Sir! We have a survivor! She's injured, badly!" He yelled again.
Relief replaced fear, as I felt my entire body give weight. But before I hit the ground, he caught me in his arms. "It's okay!" He exclaimed while giving a smile. "We can help you!"
I could hear the sound of feet running from around the wall when a short and stubby man wearing a green cap and a similar uniform with red epaulettes appeared. Various medals adorned his chest, just above his heart. He was likely the captain-- or commander, of this dispatchment.
"By gods!" He exclaimed. His eyes locked onto my uniform, and he immediately recognized it. "That's not just any survivor! She's an apprentice!"
The soldier looked to his superior, and then back to me, his eyes widened as he looked at the uniform I was wearing. "The sole survivor of the Perdito Village massacre was an apprentice." He said as the realization settled.
After he said that. It felt as if my heart stopped. Sole survivor?