Kingdom of Loradel, Village of Hansel, Present day.
A grim orchestra of pained groans and sobs filled the small alchemy shop.
"Anaria! Quickly hand me those cloths behind the table," yelled Sathama, her mentor.
Anaria pushed aside a group of empty potion bottles on a table at the corner of the shop. Behind them was a stack of white cloths. She turned and threw them to Sathama.
The elder woman caught them mid-stride before focusing on her patient.
The shop was nothing out of what was expected. A small building cut nearly in half by a large counter decorated with countless bottles, herbs and alchemy tools. Behind the counter was empty, overtaken by darkness that was broken only the occasional moonlight that came through a high-placed window.
Anaria crept around the myriad number of injured men, women and children that covered the floors. Beside the town hall, the shop was their only hope of sanctuary from the monsters that came as if from nowhere. It was a day like no other; wake, run her daily errands before heading to the shop for her alchemy lessons and aiding Sathama with potion crafting. Then came the orange haze of dusk followed by the first scream. One of the villagers had been attacked by what she could only describe as a demon. She had never seen one before, but the features it presented matched those of the nightmarish stories told over campfires. They were said to have many different forms, but the one that she had seen appeared human—at least its body type and size. The monster had glowing crimson candlelight-like eyes and rotting flesh. Anaria shuttered at the thought as she joined Sathama's side.
"Please, it hurts." A man spread across one of their many tables groaned aloud, an open gash across his chest.
Sathama pushed the cloths against his wound, soaking them in red within seconds.
"Blasted monsters are going to kill us all," said one man.
"There were so many—what were they?" murmured a woman who cradled her shaking child in her hands.
Anaria frowned as an anvil of guilt dawned on her. The shaking woman was Fingila, her daughter; Noa. They were a kind duo, always bearing smiles as they ran the stables together. But now they were nothing but dark reflections of them. Dried tears and blood—perhaps not even their own, staining their faces.
The screams of demons and people outside of the shop seem to go right through the walls, reminding everyone of what awaited them in the night.
"I can't stop the bleeding," said Sathama as she motioned Anaria to take her side. "I'm sorry to ask you again, young one. But I need you to heal him as well."
Anaria nodded. "I understand."
Sathama rubbed the sweat from her brow only to smear it with blood. She looked up to the ceiling with an exhale. "Gods help us," she whispered.
Anaria had never seen her instructor sob, but she could swear she saw a tear run down cheek seconds before the woman looked away. Now…focus. She clasped her hands together. A second later she produced light from her palms. A gold aura surrounded her now, gleaming as it lit up the old building. "I'll stop the pain," she said softly before putting her hands against the bloodied rags. The light of her celestial aura grew like a fed flame. A soft twinkle confirmed it was working.
The man's propulsions were rapid as his chest rose and fell with quick short breaths.
"It's alright—you're alright." She looked into the man's eyes.
His once fearful eyes had drooped as his body loosened. "Thank you…Anaria," he said before drifting to sleep.
The aura around her dissipated. "Shhh." She removed the soiled rags to reveal her success. The wound was sealed and there was only a light scar and dry blood left. She placed a hand behind his head and pulled a small vial from her apron. She popped the cork off of the bottle and lifted the man's head as she poured a pink liquid into his parted lips. A part of her envied him, envied the thought of having a temporary release from this nightmare. The thought was overtaken by the happiness that came with seeing him at peace. This is what she loved, even now in this horror she could see no other path for her than to help those that needed it.
The combination of screams and growls outside of the building seemed to fade with every second. A small group of Zuland soldiers and fighting men were all that stood between these people and death.
Sathama looked back at her, a smile on her lips. "Most of these people would be dead if not for you." She wiped her hands clean with a tarp before running her palm gently on Anaria's cheek. "Are you ok? Using your aura this much must be taking a toll on you, young one. I know magic has its limits."
Anaria smiled back at her. "I'm fine," she lied. As the words escaped her lips, she felt the building quake. Every few seconds everything seemed to stretch unnaturally, a common side effect of using too much of her aura.
"Listen to me." Sathama now had both her hands on Anaria's shoulders, eyes locked on hers. "If anything happens to you then—you…you need to rest, if only for a bit. I cannot have you falling over as well, your brother would never forgive me."
Anaria felt a pit in her gut at the mention of Roy. He had joined the men on the defensive. She prayed that the next patient brought through those doors wouldn't be him.
Suddenly the door slammed open followed by the gasps of all.
Eleanor, another student of Sathama, struggled to hold up the injured man that had his arm wrapped around her.
"Eleanor, what happened?" said Sathama.
"He needs help, one of those monsters bit his side. The wound needs to be cleaned before it festers."
"I can still fight!" he yelled. Tears rained down from his dirty face and into his scraggly beard. "I need to keep fighting! Gina—my wife, she's still out there!"
Sathama took the man's other arm. "The soldiers will bring her to safety, you need attention."
"Those fucking crimson pricks! Half of them ran off and left us to die."
Anaria neared them as she began to conjure her aura once more.
"Anaria, what are you—" Sathama pointed a demanding finger down to the ground. "Rest! Eleanor and I will take him."
She retreated with a frown. Her head spun as everything blurred. She quickly pushed her back against the edge of the shop. Her aching body thanked her as she slid down the wall and closed her eyes. She just needed a quick second. One second and she could…the thought faded alongside a welcoming darkness as she gave in to the fatigue.