Each step required a greater effort than the last. The heavy snow already soaked through my leather shoes and cotton pants. My nation had rarely ventured into the barren tundra, and hadn't developed any viable protection against the cold. So every gust of the icy wind stung my cheeks, nose, and fingers. I couldn't feel my toes and, just based on how long I'd been trudging through three feet of snow, I just assumed that they were frozen.

My nation's solution to the impossible temperatures of the northern tundra was to layer on as much cloth as possible in hopes that the heat stays in. In short, it didn't work. Every inch of my clothes were soaked with water. Icicles dangled from every inch of me and every droplet of water that clung to the fur on my coat froze solid.

Thunder rumbled in the sky and shook the ground. Before I could jam my walking staff into the snow for stability against the thunderclap, the ground started quaking. I shuffled to the right a few feet, then, just as quickly as I had been yanked to the right, the ground seemed to shift once again and I stumbled to the right five or six more steps before finally losing balance and getting a face-full of snow.

The eardrum-shattering thunderclap stopped rumbling the ground shortly after I had collapsed into the snow and my limbs began to freeze. The blood in my legs felt like ice and, as hard as I tried, I failed to shift them into any position that would help me stand. So I started to throw my arms out in front of me and pull my soaked body and clothes forward. I didn't want to die in this Icy hell. I knew that there was no time to spare. The earth rattling thunder could only mean that an icicle storm was fast approaching and, if I didn't have shelter by the time the Icey needles began to hail from the sky, I would be torn to shreds.

My mind started to slip away from me as I struggled to drag my water-logged body through the snow. I drifted back to the day about two years ago when the military kicked in the door to our home inside one of the Mariah-trees.

It was a warm summer evening and the moons were high in the sky. We could hardly see them from our home, as the canopy of the forest was thick around our home, and the moonlight could barely penetrate the thick leaves that hung overhead. The rays that did manage to gracefully slip through danced in the night air and landed gently on the grasses and dirt that rested around the stumps of the trees. Little lamplights shone in the trunks of the trees as other families undoubtedly admired the beauty of the forest in the moonlight.

I could hear the sound of my brother and sister inside playing dragons and hunters. They used to ask me all the time to play with them. They would come outside bouncing up and down with glee, chanting " BIG BROTHER! BIG BROTHER! COME AND PLAY WITH US!" Some nights I would smile and accept their offer. I would always get stuck being the dragon, as I was sixteen and they were only seven and ten. They knew, since I was older, that they could hit me as hard as they wanted with their 'spears" ( which were nothing softer than thick chunks of wood). I would always bump into things wearing the dragon head that was made of wool and painted leaves and eventually I would fall over and they would win the stupid little game.

Recently the requests to play with them had ceased almost completely, as I started to deny the request to play with them more and more often. I wasn't trying to be mean to them, I just couldn't quite pull myself off of the leaf that hung right below our window. My parents always begged me to come inside because the fall could be dangerous since our home and the leaf I sat on was about one hundred and fifty feet above the solid dirt below. But I never listened. I always begged them for just a few more minutes outside. It was truly beautiful when the sun set and the two moons rose. Their rays would collide and cut through each other, creating bright, grey-blue streaks of light. The light rays would illuminate the water particles that floated in the air. The dew on the tall sky-grass blades would split and reflect the rays they received, sending them dashing off in two different directions.

There were a few other kids like me that were lucky enough to have been blessed with leaves right below their windows, and they became my friends over time. Tonight, however, none of them were sitting on their leaves and admiring the grasses and moonlight. I wondered where they were for a few seconds, but I didn't let it distract me from the awe-inspiring view that was laid out in front of me.

My mother must've walked up to the window when I wasn't paying attention because I heard her voice call out to me. "Honey, it's almost time for dinner, you should come inside. The sun has set anyway"

"I'm coming, mom. Just give me like... another minute." I found myself absorbed in my own thoughts as I ruminated on our village and why our settlement ( and many others) were suspended in the awesome trees. The Violent, booming storms would uproot any building that we could even fathom building in the soil. The Mariah-trees offered a stable shelter from these storms. Even if we could find a way to dig our talons deep enough into the soil so that the winds wouldn't tear apart our feeble wooden structures, the rains caused floods that would surely wash away every trace of us on the ground. These storms forced us to adapt to our environment and secure all of our structures to the branches hundreds of feet into the air and connect them with dangling bridges that were sturdy enough to support a human, but not so rigid that they would break to bits in the violent winds. We built high to avoid the floods and we secured all of our bridges and farms to the branches of the trees for security from the winds. Most of our "lived-in' structures were burrowed into the trees themselves.

The trees were so large that we were able to build multiple rooms in our homes without compromising the structural integrity of the trees. In fact, it wasn't just the densely- packed trees here that made us seem like minuscule beings, it was everything. The sky-grass in our region could grow up to forty-five feet tall and the flowers that needed to compete for sunlight would grow just as high if not a few feet taller. Those torrential storms were necessary to keep the ecosystem functioning.

Most of the animals in our area had also adapted to the winds and floods in their own ways. One of my favorite animals was the bauballs. They were chubby little creatures with six legs, a plump, round body, horns and eyes on both sides of their head. Their eyes were their cutest feature, as they looked like big black beads in their small little heads. Their ears were huge as well, and their fur came in a range of colors and patterns. They also had massive wing-like extremities that they would wrap themselves in to float on the waves of the floods. Their beautiful exterior feathers looked like rainbows in the seas that would occasionally cover our earth.

Everything in our world revolves around adapting to our environment, and it was beautiful. Those spectacular Mariah trees became symbols of our culture and, in many ways, shaped our way of life. They didn't feel like an obstacle to us, but rather a caregiver. The trees were our protectors and our homes, I wouldn't've wanted to live in any other place.

I slowly began to stand up but something at one of the homes across from ours caught my attention. I saw the mother of one of the boys I knew leaning over her railing made of sticks that barricaded her window. I thought I caught a glimpse of the moonlight shimmering off of her cheeks as I turned my body to head inside. It looked as if she had been crying. I didn't think much of it at the time. I would later find out that ignoring her pain was pretty naive of me.

I pushed aside the bright green piece of Mariah leaf that served as our curtain. It did its job perfectly. It let the bright morning rays in but kept the torrential rain out (as long as we remembered to secure it correctly). As I stepped inside I noticed my brother and sister chasing each-other around the trunk that was central to our home. They were laughing hysterically and were being rather loud for my liking.

I don't know why, but I felt the need to take in the view of our cylindrical home once again. The kitchen and dining area were on the eastern side of our house and our front door sat firmly right next to our brick cooking area. (It was mandatory for all cooking fires in the homes to be encased in brick to prevent fires.)

As you moved westward along the house, past the front door, you reached the living space. This area consisted of a green leaf couch and some wooden chairs with wool cushions for comfort. There was a table sat happily in front of the couch, and some random paintings and embroidered quilts that my mother had hung up on the wall.

Continuing onward, there was the group of rooms that all stuck out from the walls towards the trunk about sixteen feet. First was my brother and sister's room. They often hung out there when mom and dad were talking about something important or dad was reading and they weren't allowed to be loud. Next to that was my parent's room and then, after that, my room. Considering the fact that I was a teenager, I actually spent very little time cooped up inside my room. I always enjoyed wandering around the village or spending time with my family more than isolating myself.

If you continue past the rooms, you would end up at the window and our little leaf balcony, which is where I was standing. Our house was basically a complete circle, and it was excellent. Everything flowed together nicely and the shape gave my brother and sister plenty of room to play in, so I wasn't complaining.

My mother called out to me from the kitchen, "Cylus! Come help me and your father finish up with dinner!" She was shuffling through the plates and silverware. She enjoyed having everything organized for mealtimes, and everything else. When I was young I was never allowed to go to bed until my toys were picked up from all rooms of the house. She would always tell me (and my siblings), that if you kept your living space clean, you would be blessed with a clear head.

I headed over to my mother and picked up the stack of light brown, cleanly polished plates. My dad was lazily sitting at the table, perusing the weekly news booklet that they handed out at the town square. He was an older man, but his age didn't detract from his physique at all. Years in the military had built him up to be quite the hulking mass. He was an intimidating being, and his prowess in the military made him somewhat of a local legend. There were hardly wars in our world so the most we fought against were beasts. The townsfolk would occasionally tell stories of how my dad had slain a Rhynok all by his lonesome after his entire platoon had been wounded. I would constantly bother him to tell me the story of how he managed to do it as a kid, but I was always met with his classic "I don't want to talk about it".

My dad sat motionless at the table, sporting his baggy, deep-green woolen tunic and his reading glasses. I shifted my gaze over to him and called out to him "you mean that you want me to help YOU with dinner, mom?" I squinted my eyes at him as he lowered the booklet and locked eyes with me.

"I'm helping!" he claimed. "I'm making sure that... the...the uh..." His eyes frantically darted around the room as he searched for an excuse. "I'm uh... yeah I've got nothing...I'm not helping at all. That's what you're here for." He closed his eyes and smiled at me before going back to reading his booklet.

Mom laughed at my dad's comedic genius as I shuffled over to the table and set the plates down. I made sure to put my dad's plate upside down, an act of sabotage that he failed to notice. My dad's expression was rather distressed while I set his plate. I was about to ask what was wrong, but he hastily dropped the paper down to the table and glanced over at my brother and sister. Both of them were still off near the trunk and the living room furniture laughing and screaming at each other. He took a deep breath before calling my mother over to the table. "Son, take a seat for me, would you? And Honey, could you come over here for a second?" he called across the room.

"I'll be over in a second, I just need to finish getting dinner ready then we can all sit together." She replied in her normal calm and compassionate tone.

"No... No, I don't think this can wait. Could you maybe hold off on dinner for a second and come over here with me and Cy?" His voice dropped in pitch and his tone went from jovial to serious in a single phrase. My heart began to speed up, he was making me nervous. Dad was calm, collected, and serious. He never talked like that unless matters were pressing and something was wrong. My mother noticed his shift and behavior as well, and immediately put the dish she was making back on the counter. We both knew that whatever Dad had to say was urgent.

My mother pulled out the seat across from me and sat down. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was also getting nervous. "What is it Feron? What's the matter?" she put both of her hands on top of his and looked intently towards him.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It seemed like he was preparing himself, like he couldn't accept what he was about to say and was having trouble keeping his composure. His eyes were closed behind his thick reading glasses and his head was angled down towards the table. Without opening his eyes he commanded my little siblings to their rooms with a booming "Kids! You're not in trouble, but I need you to go to your room... now!"

When he rid the room of little ears my palms began to sweat. This discussion was only for the adults and would surely scare the kids. I felt like a child as well. Sitting there at the table, awaiting the surly life-altering news. It couldn't even wait until after dinner. I was terrified of what dad had to say with such urgency that he had to disrupt the whole ecosystem of our home.

My brother and sister froze in place and I swear I could see the hairs on the backs of their necks stand straight up. My sister removed the fake dragon head and hastily placed it on the ground and my brother dropped his stick. They locked hands as they always would and, without a word of protest, disappeared behind the curtains into their room.

My heart was pounding and my own breathing was short and hasty. I shifted in my seat in an attempt to get comfortable, but the tension in the air was making it impossible to get comfortable in any position. My hands were shaking a small bit as I struggled to hold it all together. The last time my dad spoke to us like this was years ago when Uncle Eion died.

My mother was not safe from the anxiety in the air either. I could hear her foot tapping on the ground at a fast but rhythmic pace, and her beautiful, ocean blue eyes were puffy, as if she were about to cry. She was an incredibly strong woman, but she knew even better than I, that this news was going to be catastrophic.

The seconds seemed like hours and the anticipation built like water behind a dam. Finally, my dad broke the eerie silence in the air, but the words he spoke were worse than anything my mother or I could have imagined. His speech hit us both like arrows and my heart began to sink. It felt like my heart stopped and my throat seized up, making it extremely difficult to breathe.

"Yvenia is going to war. According to the news booklet, Eelisyl has apparently encroached on Yvenian territory in the colonies. Our governor claims that we attempted to reach peace with Eelisyl, but an agreement could not be reached and war has been declared." My Dad's head remained bowed and he refused to make eye contact with either me or mom. We all knew what war meant for us as a family and Dad was scared to meet mine, or my mother's gaze.

War meant that Dad had to leave us, his past commitment to the military meant he was first in line for the draft, even though he was an old man. None of us were even remotely prepared for this news, not even dad. The rock of a man that I had known my entire life began to crumble before my own eyes, and that scared me more than anything else. I had never witnessed my dad shed a tear until now, He didn't even cry at Eion's funeral.

Stuttering and obviously stricken, my mother began to choke out her protest. " B-But the six kingdoms haven't gone to war for over a hundred years. W-why now?" Her eyes had small oceans pooling underneath her eyes while she struggled to articulate her thoughts. Her hands were shaking and her foot had never ceased to tap on the ground.

"It's that new land that had been discovered two years ago..." My father's gaze drifted upward toward the ceiling and a lone tear slid down his cheek. "The kingdom's had been at peace for so long because we thought there was nothing more to fight over. We thought all the land was spoken for and we all had everything we wanted. There was no need to control the resources that were equally distributed around the territories." Now that there's newly discovered land, unclaimed by the humans or the hybrids. There will be a global conflict."

My dad's words were somber. I thought he would be outraged that he was going to be taken from his comfortable home and his family but instead there was just a tinge of disappointment in his voice. His tone reminded me of when he would speak to me after I did something stupid. It was like he expected more from the world.

I already knew the answer, but I decided to ask my pointless question anyway, "D-does this mean that..." My dad cut off my sentence. He could tell what I was about to say.

"Yes, it does. Within the next couple of days, a general will come to our home and give me my deployment orders." My father had completely calmed himself and returned to his composed and serious tone, his voice lost every trace of emotion.

"But you don't have to go, right dad? Surely you're too old and you can just say no... right?" I was desperate, I didn't want to lose my father. He was nearly fifty-five years old and was definitely not prepared for combat at his age.

"Son... you know that if I refuse a direct order, I'll be executed and you, your mother, your baby brother and sister will all be thrown in jail for harboring a traitor. I have to go... for all of you." My dad held tight to my mother's small hands and reached out with an open palm to me. It was clear he was trying to calm us down. I slowly placed my hand in his, I didn't want him to go, I wasn't ready to lose my dad.

"My mother began again, "Well, maybe you won't be drafted, because of your age. We are also only at war with Eelisyl, so maybe they won't need you." Tears were still streaming down her face, but she seemed confident and hopeful this time.

My dad would do his best to calm us down, but he was never dishonest, godamn him. 'Honey, if Yvenia and Eelisyl begin fighting, Eelisyl will ask for aid from Ryshka to get the upper hand. Yvenia will seek aid from Aelion and then Verbaise and Quent will be forced to pick a side. As soon as the arrows start flying, the conflict will be global, it's gonna be all hands on deck. Everyone will get drafted. Luckily Cylus is still two years from being eligible for the draft, he is only sixteen after all." His voice was actually hopeful when he spat out that last sentence.

God Damn him. After my mother spoke, I could feel a shimmer of hope growing inside me. I started to believe that I wasn't actually going to lose my father. But his compulsive need to be honest ripped that hope away from me. And of course, he was happy now, He was always thinking of us rather than himself. Why couldn't he just be worried about himself for once, didn't he realize that WE needed him too.

I was frustrated and distraught, I wanted to wake up from this nightmare. I pulled my hand away from my father's and pushed out my chair hard enough for it to make a painfully loud squeak on the floor. " I think I want to go to my room for now," I said hastily and stormed off without waiting for a response from my parents.

A thousand thoughts raced through my head all at once but before I could focus on a single one, there was a thunderous knock on the front door to our home. I froze dead in my tracks. Surely they couldn't be here already? How old was that news book dad was reading? Surely this is just someone who got caught outside in the cold of night and they were just looking for shelter.

I was just about to pass the trunk in the middle of our home when I heard the knocking and froze cold in my tracks. My hands Immediately began shaking and I doubt there was anything I could do to quell it. The hairs on my neck stood up as I gripped my wrist to try and cease the violent shakes.

As my dad was getting out of his dining room chair to open the door, they began slamming on it like rabid beasts. "Coming!" my dad yelled across the room. He was being rather polite, given the circumstances. That was just like my dad though, they were pounding on our door and he was showing them kindness.

I looked to my right and saw a little head poking from around the curtain that covered my little siblings' rooms. My little brother Ergon was becoming nosey and decided he wanted to watch. No doubt my little sister Asula was peering over his shoulder right behind him, trying desperately just to get a glimpse of what was happening. Those two were just about inseparable and if you saw one, the other was surely just out of sight.

"Ergon!" I whisper-yelled at him "Get back in your room and don't come out no matter what you hear". I had a terrible feeling about the person at the door, Egon and Asula didn't need to see anything that was about to happen. I didn't want them to see their father get ripped away from his family.

"But...."Ergon began as he took a step outside of the curtain and tried to peek around the trunk to the front door.

"Ergon! Don't fight me on this! Go, now!" As I was pleading with Ergon to retreat to his room, I heard the door slam into our wall as it was slammed open. I didn't need to look or think, I just let my instincts guide my body. I sprinted to Ergon as fast as I possibly could and lifted him by his waist before the events in the living room traumatized him forever. "You too Asula". She was still in the room so she was easier to corral. I grabbed her hand and pulled her back to the bunk beds. Ergon was punching and kicking me in the chest, a fight that was utterly useless, but it still hurt nonetheless.

I sat him on the top bunk and pulled Asula into the bottom one. Ergon immediately attempted to slide down in an escape attempt, but I wasn't going to let him out. "Ergon, you need to listen to me." I said desperately, reaching down to pick him back up. My hands barely made contact with his shoulders before he turned and bit me on the hand.

A small spurt of blood came out of my skin as his teeth sunk into my flesh. I winced in pain and was forced to let go of his shoulder. He immediately dashed towards the curtain and Asula followed him. I gripped my hand that was now dripping blood and moved to get in front of him. I couldn't let him out there. I just couldn't.

Before I could reach him though, my mother pushed aside the curtain and stomped her way inside the room. She took a quick survey of her surroundings and put her hand out to stop the kids from getting out of the room. She looked like a completely different person than the one who was sobbing in the dining area. Her eyes had settled and the redness had subsided.

"Ergon! Asula! Get back to your beds! Right this instant!" She firmly grasped both of their shoulders and pushed them sternly over to their beds. I could see her knuckles turning white as she squeezed my brother's shoulder probably a bit harder than she meant too, but I couldn't blame her with everything going on in the house.

"You need to listen to your brother when he tells you to do something! Both of you!" She began scolding them as she picked my brother up and firmly pushed my brother onto his bed and pulled Asula's arm above her head until she was forced to climb onto her place on the bunk. I could tell by the look in my brother's eye that he was furious and my sister was no happier. I didn't blame them honestly. They were both kids and just wanted to investigate the noises in the living room. They were curious that was all, they had no idea or understanding that the people that were here were most likely going to take dad away.

My hand was still bleeding pretty bad, but I shook it off and stood up. I was, of course, pissed off at my brother for biting my hand, but I decided that I needed to let go of my frustration for the time being.

I walked over to my mother who was standing in front of my sibling's bunk. " do you need me to get anything?" I asked.

"No I think I've got it handled for now, and I think it's best you stay in here as well. None of us need to be involved in what's going on out there. Is your hand okay? She inquired with a compassionate tone.

" Yeah, I think I'll be alright. It's just a bit of blood is all." I replied attempting to act strong. I didn't want to stress out my mother any more than she already was.

The voices outside the room began to get louder, and I could hear my dad raising his voice. That concerned me because dad never raises his voice. He was an incredibly disciplined man and someone really had to make him angry for him to yell. There were two unfamiliar voices yelling back at him. I thought I could hear the faint tapping of a group of footsteps along with all the yelling.

Suddenly my dad burst through the curtain and turned to face the gateway into the room. He backed up towards the rest of us with his arms outstretched as if he was trying to shield us from something. He was breathing heavily and, from what I could see, his eyes were bulging and there was a thin layer of sweat coating his forehead. He was panicked. What on this planet could possibly scare my father?

My questions were soon answered when two giant figures tore down the curtain completely. One was armed with a staff, presumably a mage's staff. Between the two of them, they blocked the doorway completely.

The mage wore long, purple robes with a brown leather cloak wrapped around his neck and covering his shoulders and sported a belt filled with different mysterious potions. His eyes were a cold brown and they jutted around the room with quick, sharp movements. His mouth was curled into a sadistic smile that refused to show any teeth. His hair was long and gray, Indicating that he was an older man, which probably meant he was an experienced mage. A long scar ran down his left cheek and neck, making him rather ugly.

On his left stood a man larger than dad, both in height and musculature. His biceps resembled tree-trunks and his hands looked like they could break steel. He stood about seven feet tall and had a darker skin tone, suggesting that he was probably native to a desert region or one closer to the equator. He wore much less clothing than the mage, sporting tight, beige pants that ended slightly above the knee. On his torso was a leather wrapping that covered his stomach but left his pecks exposed, two leather shoulder guards and a pair of greaves. His nose was crooked, presumably from being broken on more than one occasion, and his eyes sat evenly spaced above his nose. I couldn't help but notice that one of his eyes was glossed over with a rather odd scar. Several lines pointed inward towards his eye, suggesting that he had received a MASSIVE blow there, his whole left eye was deformed from the accident. It looked as though he had a permanent black eye underneath the scar, as the skin underneath was much darker than his normal skin tone.

"Oh come now Feron. Don't be like that. You know we have to take him." He paused, turned his head, and began to speak through the side of his lip "Governor's orders". The mage let out a high pitched cackle and held his stomach. He apparently thought the joke was hilarious, as his head was thrown back and his laughter was filling the air with an extreme uneasy pressure.

What was happening? Why didn't they take dad, and what was that filthy mage babbling about? I had so many questions and I was so scared, they didn't have any right to barge into our home and they were armed.

The mage sharply cut off his laughter and suddenly took on a more serious tone. "Seriously Feron... if you don't move... we're gonna have to, you know. He held his chin up and dragged his long, pointy index finger across his throat before he started giggling again.

"Feron, what's going on?" My mother inquired as she shifted her body to put both of the young children behind her. Her eyes were locked on my dad and her arms started to outstretch in front of the children to shield them.

I sat on the ground next to my mother with my father in front of me, blood still slowly dripping from the bite wound in my hand. The standoff was terrifying, as the mage and the berserker that stood in the door held the obvious advantage. My head and neck were sweating profusely and my throat began to tense up a bit. I couldn't handle the bundle of emotions that were swirling in the air, making it difficult to focus on any single feeling for long. The only thing that was clear was the aura of fear that was engulfing my family, and it seemed to distort the wizards and brutes aura making it near impossible to decipher their intentions.

"I won't let you touch them, it's me you want, I served in the army once, I'm ready to do it again." My dad pleaded. His voice was starting to quiver and crack. He was genuinely scared... and not for his own life.

"Oh you stupid little plebian, we don't want you!" There was a growl in the mage's voice as he grit his teeth and spat at my father. " You're old! Washed! You'd die as soon as we sent you into battle! A pathetic waste! You're worthless to me now Feron. WE...WANT...THE...BOY!

The mage screamed at the top of his lungs and his staff began to glow.

My eyes widened and my breath halted completely in my chest. My heart had to have stopped beating. They wanted me? Why? I was just a kid? I had to catch my breath quickly. My eyes were fading to black and my balance was failing me. I toppled backward from my squat onto my bottom. That's why dad burst into here? That's why he was shielding all of us? I was going to vomit. My stomach twisted and turned as my body slowly delved into shock. They were going to send me off to die in a war. I was going to be the sacrificial lamb so that Yvenia could rule the new world. I didn't want to die, I wanted to stay right here with my mom and my brother, sister, father and friends, I didn't want to go.

A pathetic "W-What?" was all I could choke out of my constricted lungs.

"Yes, you, boy! You're going to go serve your country!" The mage looked at me and showcased his yellowing teeth this time. His eyes seemed to be glowing red and I wondered if he was going to remove my soul from my body.

My mother looked as shocked as I and quickly reached out and snatched my arm away from me. With the force of a thousand men, she dragged my cadaver across the rug and behind her. I was still incapacitated from the wizard's slew of words that seemed to prevent me from controlling my muscles.

"He's not going anywhere! I swear to GODS if you Touch him!" The quivering in my dad's voice vanished and was replaced with a newfound confidence. It was as if he was channeling some inner beast with a need to defend me at all costs. He sounded and looked powerful, he was no longer shrinking under the shadow of the beasts in the doorway.

"Feron..." the mage sounded annoyed and was not at all phased by my dad's tone, "Get out of my way, last warning." The mage looked straight ahead with absolutely no expression lurking in his face.

My mother grabbed both of my shoulders and forcefully propped me up against the dark, wooden supports of my brother and sister's bunk. As soon as I was on my feet I began to slide back down towards the floor. None of my muscles were responding to any command I gave them, I tried so hard to stand but I physically couldn't, I had no conscious control over my legs.

My mother's hand that was softly placed upon my chest must've felt me slipping down because she turned to look at me and quickly seized my shoulders to pull me up again. She got close to my face and her lips began moving rapidly.

I couldn't hear a single word she was uttering. All I heard was ringing. These people were going to forcibly remove me from my home and indirectly kill me. I wondered if I would make any friends on the battlefield whom I'd have to watch be slaughtered. I wondered if I would ever have to kill anyone else, or if I'd even make it that far. Would I die quickly? Or would I be captured and tortured for information before I was thrown into a blood-soaked mass grave?

A cold and firm hand collided with my face and jerked my head sharply to the right. I quickly shook my head and refocused on the moment.

"Cylus! Listen to me! You have to get out of here! Any chance you get, run for the door as fast as you can! Your father and I will make you an opening." Her eyes harbored an extreme ferocity, like a dragon's eyes, and her tone was unwavering. At this moment, she was unshakable, and I knew it was for me.

I jerked my head upright to examine my dad, the mage, and the berserker.

"It's going to be like that, Ay Feron? Fine... we can play rough!" WIth a loud cackle and a slam of his staff, The mage sent a massive shockwave through the whole house. The curtain blew backwards and I heard glass break in the kitchen and the living room . Both me and my mother were cast to the ground like we were simple sky-grass dolls.

My shoulder hit the ground first and a newfound fear enveloped me. I scrambled up onto my hip, supporting myself with my left hand. When I looked up my dad stood as a giant, unmoved by the massive explosion of energy. In the face of hellmouth, he said nothing.

The mage's staff emitted an ominous glow that lit up the dim room. He tilted it forward and the light hardened into a purple crystal with a sharp point and it shot at lightning speeds toward my father.

He dashed to the left and gracefully evaded the crystal. I saw him moving to pick up the chair that was placed at the foot of my little sister's toy table when my mother grabbed the neck of my tunic and began dragging me towards the back of the bed, out of the line of fire.

When she finally threw me against the wall that my father had erected to divide the master bedroom and the childrens room, she hastily got down onto her knees and pulled out a small wooden crate from underneath my little sister's bunk.

"Bu-but what about-" I timidly spat before I was cut off by my mother.

"They'll be fine, they're brutes sure, but they won't harm children". She could tell I was talking about my little brother and sister. Who's wails were the most audible thing in this entire encounter.

She hastily undid the tiny lock that held the Mariah wood box together and grasped the lid. She was about to throw it towards my father, presumably to use as a shield, but she looked down at the piece of wood and then to me.

"Here" She shoved the rather hefty piece of wood into my chest. "Use it to protect yourself if you need it."

I didn't have time to argue with her as I tentatively grasped the sides of the lid and slowly began to clamber to my feet.

"Cylus!" My mother called with ferocity, "This is it" was all she said to me, and I knew exactly what she meant. This was going to be my one and only chance to get out of here and get away from the mage and berserker.

I could hear grunting from around the corner of the bed and, occasionally, a flash of light would come from around the corner, followed by a crystal either sticking into the back wall, or exploding. I could also hear things breaking and hitting the ground. It was so noisy and chaotic, I couldn't tell if my father was winning the battle or losing.

"L-LYRA" Was all that could be distinctly made out from around the corner. My dad was calling to my mother, most likely as a warning to her. She looked up and to her left, but it was too late.

A large, heavy, and tanned hand came barreling down towards her balled into a fist. It made contact with her face, producing a loud and audible "THUD" as her body went limp and crumpled to the floor.

A foot carelessly stepped over her and the berserker rounded the corner. He seemed to be much, much bigger than the last time I had seen him.

"There you are! Little wretch!" He shouted at the top of his lungs. He outstretched his gigantic arm and hand towards me in an attempt to grab me. I wondered if this was it, if this was going to be where I died. Each step he took towards me was one step closer to my miserable fate. I weakly held up the heavy plate of wood in front of my face, as if he couldn't shatter it with a single finger.

He was almost on top of me when the rest of the toybox I was holding slammed into the back of his head, bounced off of the side of the bunk bed before finally coming to rest onto the ground with a bump.

The berserker didn't show much of a physical reaction, other than moving his head forward no more than an inch. He did, however, turn around to try to investigate his assailant.

At first, I believed it was my father coming to my rescue, but the flashes of light and yelling were still a distance off around the corner. As he turned I caught a quick glimpse of my mother's neat house-dress and I knew that she was my savior.

I may have been useless before, but I knew that this was the moment she was talking about earlier. I wasn't going to get another opportunity to escape the clutches of that beast and I had to take my one shot. All that was left was the mage... I just had to get around the mage.

I used the wall that I had earlier leaned against to help me get to my feet. I grasped my make-shift shield with my right hand, pulling it up to my chest before securing it with my left. I took a wide berth around the berserker and my mother, moving as fast as humanly possible. I felt bad for leaving my mother, but I knew it would hurt her more than any physical pain to see me captured.

I tripped over one of my little sister's sky-grass dolls as I rounded the corner and subsequently lost my shield as I threw my arms out in front of me to stop my fall.

"There's the little RAT!" the mage exclaimed triumphantly, as if, just by seeing me he was victorious.

He raised his staff off of the ground a few inches and the ominous glow returned to illuminate the room with a deep purple hue. I saw the staff's glow and froze. I knew I had to get out of the way, but I couldn't decide what to do. A thousand options raced through my head but my indecisiveness was going to be my downfall. I started to realize how useless I truly was when it mattered. All I could manage to do was lock eyes with the man who was going to facilitate my doom.

As if he was a hero arriving just in time to save the day, my dad came bolting in front of me with a speed I didn't realize he was capable of. He was holding the toy chest lid out in front of him as a shield to protect both me and himself from the mage.

"Cylus!" He boomed "Stay behind me!" The way he spoke was invigorating. His voice was so powerful and inspiring that I was no longer his son, but a soldier on the battlefield, taking orders from the commander, and I knew, in that moment, That I had to do as he said.

I stood up and got tight to his back as he shielded me from the onslaught of what I assumed was crystals. I couldn't exactly see much, as I was glue sticking onto his back, trusting him to do all the hard work.

We inched forward towards the door. My ears were enveloped in a swarm of noises, very few of which I could distinguish. I could hear the crashing of the crystals against both the shield and the wall behind me. Whatever remained on the shelves of the kid's room was shaking violently, along with the rest of the entire house. It felt as if a massive earthquake was shaking our entire tree and everyone in it.

I turned my head for a second to look behind us. Honestly, in my head, I believed that my mother's sheer willpower would be able to hold off the berserker. This was incredibly naive.

Behind the two of us, my mother was sprawled across the ground with only her torso and head showing around the corner. I couldn't completely tell, because she was facing the wall, but she looked unconscious.

The berserker, once again, effortlessly stepped over my mother and began stomping his way towards us. I couldn't tell if it was his footsteps or the mage's magic that was rattling the household.

"D-dad!" I forced the sad words out of my lungs with as much force as I could muster. "He's coming from- from behind us"

I apparently hadn't been paying attention to our slow progression towards the mage because my dad didn't even bother turning around to look at the monster encroaching on our flank. Instead, he remained voiceless and jerked forward away from me. Even though I was facing behind us, I still noticed his lunge forward as the safety of his back left my arms.

I turned forward to investigate and he was on top of the mage, attempting to wrestle the staff out of his hands and render him useless. My dad employed any tactic he believed would help him. He was tugging on the long, white beard of the mage with his right hand while he used the rest of his body to push him backwards toward the wall.

I knew that this was the exact moment that my mother had told me about. The berserker was behind me and my dad was giving me an opening to bypass the mage entirely. This was my single opportunity to escape my kidnappers and I sure as hell wasn't going to let my parents' sacrifices be in vain.

My legs began to move nearly as fast as my heart was beating and I made for the door. I didn't dare look behind me and I ignored the mage completely. All I focused on was getting around the trunk in the middle of our house and getting through the front door.

"Stop him!" was all I could the mage choke out behind me as I darted through the curtain and circled around the right side of the trunk. The living room was absolutely ruined by the violent shockwaves that had been vibrating throughout our entire tree. All of the furniture was displaced and scattered around the room. The couch and one of my dad's chairs inconveniently created a blockage that I had to bypass. The paintings that once hung from the wall layed pathetically on the ground, torn and tattered. There was broken glass littering the floor, but thankfully, I hadn't removed my sandals since I had come in from outside the window so the soles of my feet remained intact.

As I approached the roadblock, I decided that my best course of action was to try to hurdle the couch and chair. I turned my head down and retained my speed while I leapt into the air. My left foot cleared the couch, but my right one caught on the back, woolen cushions, sending me tumbling forward towards the ground. I stuck out my arms to try and brace my fall, which succeeded, to an extent.

The impact had reopened the wound on my hand and it bled with a vengeance, immediately leaving a small line of blood on the wooden floor as I slid forward a few inches. I winced at the sharp ripping pain in my and squeezed my hand as I attempted to get up on my feet.

As I was rising, I heard a powerful and soul-shaking slam, followed directly by the sound of splintered wood bouncing across the ground. My body involuntarily jerked around a full 180 degrees to investigate the unpleasant noise.

When I turned around, there was the berserker with his right arm extended. He had just dashed the couch against the wall as if it were some child's toy. The splintered wood flew through the air like little yellow blades of grass, drifting magically through the air. I stumbled backwards, trying to keep my balance. I was a mouse and he was a ferocious cat, hunting his prey.

My hand was basically gushing blood, and I was no doubt leaving a red trail on the stainless, dim yellow floors of our house, but the panic evaporated the pain entirely and all I could focus on was getting to the door and escaping.

For a second, it occurred to me that I had no plan once I actually got OUT of the house. I would be in just as much danger outside as I was in here if I ended up escaping, which seemed unlikely. At least if I did make it out of our home my family would be safe from the mage's blasts and the berserker's wrath. Although they'd be punished for disobeying a direct order from an officer.

As I approached the door I stuck my blood-stained hand out in front of me, ready to tear the handle from it's socket in the door. I didn't make it there before I caught the bright purple glint of a crystal in the corner of my eye. I looked to my left and my suspicion was confirmed as I saw the purple spear hurtling towards me. I jerked my head and shoulders to the right to avoid the crystal and is soared right past my ear with a loud whizzing noise. Unfortunately, my entire body weight followed my upper half and I immediately lost my balance from the maneuver and began stumbling forward along the wall, moving right past the door. I used the wall to secure my balance but as soon as I regained it, I knew it was too late.

Another attack barreled towards me, except this one was to entrap me so I couldn't move. I gritted my teeth and tried to raise and shift my head out of the way of the magical collar but it was useless. The snare clamped around my neck and transparent chains with a purple tint and glow launched outwards from the spell. They wrapped around my hands and ankles before I even had time to resist.

I quickly realized that, though an impedance, the chains provided little resistance and I still had full control of my limbs, meaning I still had a chance to escape. I snapped out of my stupor and began to move again, this time towards the window (the berserker behind me had definitely made it to the door and crushed any hope I had of escaping that way). If I could make it out to the leaf, it was possible for me to get over to the bridge. The Mariah leaf was just close enough to the bridge for me to safely leap to it. From there... well maybe I could get to my friend's house and they would help me out.

As I took my first step forward I felt a painful heat wrapping my muscles and forcing me to relinquish control of them. " Not so fast you little welch!" The mage boomed before unleashing a bout of his horrible screeching laughter.

I collapsed to the ground as my body was stolen away from me, the burning pain encasing me intensified and I began to cry out in pain as the discomfort grew. Whilst I was trying to recover my lost muscles, I began sliding across the floor toward the kitchen, until now, I hadn't even realized where the mage had been standing until I was being dragged. The floor was littered with kitchen utensils, plates, pans, pots, cups, and broken glass which fed the inferno of pain that I was seething in.

I felt my back tear open again and again as I was pulled away from both of my escape routes. My hopes of freedom diminished further and further every inch I was drawn backwards.

Eventually I was drawn upright, leashed directly to the mage's staff, the pain wrapping my body rendering me immobile. I couldn't so much as turn my head to view my captor. I just wanted to cry, to scream in pain, fear, hate, disappointment, and embarrassment. Not only had I failed myself, but I failed my mother and father. They were beaten and bruised just for their worthless son to be leashed like a Hyena-hound. They gave me a chance to escape and I squandered it. The shame I felt began to overwhelm all of the pain from the wounds on my back, hand, and the spell that the mage was using to immobilize me. I hated myself for wasting a perfect opportunity to escape.

The mage whipped me around one hundred and eighty degrees and my escape routes disappeared from my sight, and I was facing my sibling's room once again. My mother was out of sight and my father was leaned against the center trunk with his hand pressed tight against a wound on his right leg. My eyes widened. Seeing how much damage my father had actually suffered made me hate myself even more.

"Let him go wizard, before I take your staff and your arm!" My father threatened. I tried to choke out some protest, something to stop him from fighting so the mage might spare him any further abuse, but the overwhelming pain crushed the words as soon as they entered my larynx.

The mage burst out in another gross fit of laughter, I could hear the spit flying from his disgusting lips. " Look at you! Like a pathetic feathered tiger. You never know when to quit. Now I'd love to watch you bleed out on your floor, but fortunately for you, your son has a boat to the colonies to catch."

The mage slammed his staff onto the hardwood floor. Once it hit the ground, he flicked the bottom of his staff upward and my father flew backward at a breakneck speed. His back hit the spice shelves that sat next to the wall of my room so hard that the wood splintered into what must've been a million pieces. The sound of crackling wood and shattering glass filled my ears and my stomach turned over. I wanted to vomit. My father slid down the wall and landed into a mix of red, yellow, and green spices.

"No... g-get up" I whispered. I tried to scream at my father, to rouse him so he could stand up, but the spell was still suffocating me. I needed to know that, at least he was alive. I felt pathetic and helpless. If I had just made it out of the door, my father wouldn't be lying on the floor. I tried to break free of my collar and go aid my father, but it was pointless, I was too weak to break the spell. I began to cry as I wallowed in my self-pity.

I was whirled around again and I was once again facing the door, but this time, it wasn't freedom waiting for me on the other side. My mind flashed back to the sight of my friend's mother crying on her balcony and suddenly, it made sense, they raided our village for troops. I wasn't the only one being torn away from their family.

"Sorry about your father son, it seemed like he really loved you, prolly would've been a good father to those other two kids just like he was to you. Shame..." the mage said somberly. His tone was sincere, but his words were cold and spiteful. The words were an arrow through my heart as I realized I had probably just watched my father die and now, because of me, my brother and sister would grow up without the wonderful father that I had.

I felt my character flip, something inside me broke. All that fear and self-pity that I once felt washed away like sticks in the rain, and the cold uncaring droplets of hate flooded my heart. I wanted to strike the mage, again and again, to make him pay for killing my father.

"I...am...going...to...kill you." I choked out through spattered breaths. My chest was heaving and my nostrils flared as I tried to force air into my lungs. The pain was unbearable but my hate for the wizard kept me awake.

"Still awake little worm?" The mage asked sarcastically. "Don't you worry, we can fix that." He snapped his fingers and a million hornet bats began to sting me. The pain was so intense I stopped breathing entirely. Every muscle in my body was on fire and being stabbed at the same time. My vision began to go dark and I tried to scream, but there was hardly any air in my lungs to force out. The last thing I remember seeing was the door to our home open and that was the last time I saw my home, or my family.

I inhaled the sharp, cold air into my lungs with force and it burned. I felt my insides freeze with each little breath I took. It continuously got harder and harder to breathe. I had forgotten where I was for a while as the memories of my abduction flooded my mind. I was in the expansive tundra of the new world, freezing to death.

The memories of why I was here, and my failure on that day reinvigorated me and re-lit my will to live. I failed my mother once, I wouldn't do it again, I would return home to see her once more. I would live. I had too. She already lost dad, I wouldn't let her go through the pain of losing me as well.

I planted my hands firmly in the snow and pushed, with all of my available strength, and then some. My body weighed a hundred tons but I forced it upwards. My hands were purple and I could feel nothing in my legs. The temperatures were far, far below that needed to freeze a person to death, and, subconsciously, I wondered why my hands were not frozen solid. The thought evaporated as quickly as it began.

I threw one hand in front of the other , again and again. "I will not die here, I will not die here" I repeated to myself over and over. Saying it until it was forced to become a truth. The more I kept saying it, however, the more fickle an idea it seemed. Each pull was leagues harder than the last and my arms began to shake.

A thick piece of ice slammed into the snow next to me and, as if on cue, thunder rumbled the entire earth below me. Once again throwing me to the ground. The snow danced off the ground as the thunder vibrated everything, making it impossible to get a proper grip on the ground to lift myself.

My breathing halted once again. I pulled and pulled at the air, but it felt as if nothing was entering my body. After my breath stopped, the sharp pain split open my back and it was flooded with warmth. The storm was starting and I was struck by a giant icicle, dead-center of my back.

" I wasn't going to die here...right?" I became less certain as the ground shook, my vision began to blur and my body was engulfed in an unnatural heat. I still didn't want to die, but my will was only taking me so far, my body had ceased responding to my commands.

The thunder went silent and all I could hear was the ringing and the faint thumping of Ice slamming into the snow. My left ear was pressed against the cold, unforgiving ground, and I looked forward at the beautiful, barren plain sprawled out in front of me, not a hint of shelter in sight, possibly for miles. As soon as I realized this, hope left me entirely. As everything faded to black I began to see the faint silhouette of what may have been a person on the horizon. I tried to signal them by raising an arm, but I lacked the strength required to do so and I fell unconscious.