Someone shattered Siren's deep sleep.
She groaned, rising from her bed as though a necromancer had resurrected her from the grave. Propping herself up on one elbow, she blinked into the darkness. Before her bleary eyes, a bright flame wavered. Her face puckered as she squinted through narrowed slits, seeking the source of her rude awakening. Half her brain remained mired in slumber, and irritation drove her movements.
Gradually, her vision sharpened. The flame belonged to a candle, and behind it stood its bearer: her little sister. The thorn in her side was chattering away, words spilling faster than Siren could grasp. Normally, Saga was so quiet you had to prod and tease to coax even a syllable out of her. And now she fancied herself a chatterbox, at this unholy hour?
Siren groaned again, sinking back into her blankets. Sweet sleep wrapped her, soothing her exhausted mind. The day had drained her, and Saga's ceaseless prattling quickly faded to a dull background hum.
But the reprieve didn't last. Something shook her, violently, like a vial of potion being blended with aggressive force. The jarring motion sent a rush of blood to her head, forcing her upright. She slapped away the offending hand with more fury than finesse, glaring daggers at the culprit.
Saga.
The nuisance. The enormous, persistent nuisance.
Yet, as much as she wanted to give her twin a piece of her mind, the shaking had done its work. Siren's grogginess ebbed, replaced by clarity. In the flickering candlelight, she caught sight of Saga's pale face, paler than usual.
It looked corpse-like.
Siren froze, suddenly alert. Her gaze dropped to the trembling hands clutching the candle's tray, the unsteady flame casting shadows that danced and leaped across the room.
"Saga, what's wrong?" Siren's voice came out sharp, too sharp. She cleared her throat, softening her tone. "Why did you wake me up?"
"Something's wrong, Siren!" Saga's breath hitched as she spoke, her words spilling in a panicked rush. "There are people outside! I think they're fighting! There's fire everywhere! I heard screaming and crying—"
"Wait. Stop." Siren slid off the bed, steadying herself on her feet as she faced Saga. "Calm down. Tell me what happened."
"I don't know!" Saga cried, her voice trembling like the flame in her hands. "It's— it's hell outside—"
That's when Siren heard it.
A scream. Long, piercing, and raw, it echoed through the night, rattling her to her core. It reverberated within her like the shock of steel striking steel with violent force. Every hair on her body stood on end.
The despair in that sound was vivid, visceral.
Was that woman dying?
Did I just hear a death scream?
Other noises seeped into her room, faint at first, like the sounds of wild animals tearing each other apart. But soon, Siren realized it was no primal chaos, it was navian. A chorus of screams rang out: panic, agony, and fury tangled together in a maddening discord. She could hear the sharp clangs of metal against metal, all of it accompanied by the ceaseless patter of rain drumming on the clay tiles of the house.
What in the name of Narld is happening out there?
Siren darted to the window and flung open the shutters. A spray of cold rain kissed her face, awakening her senses as though she'd been struck by lightning. Her gaze swept over the scene outside.
From her ground-floor bedroom, as much of the town as she could see was chaos incarnate. The streets seemed to drown in anarchy. Flames leaped hungrily, their scarlet tongues licking the buildings. Thick black smoke spiraled upward, clawing at the dark sky. The fires illuminated the night, painting the town in a blazing glow that made her question her sanity.
How does fire burn like that in this heavy rain?
Men, women, children, even animals surged through the streets in frenzied flight. Faces contorted in shock and terror, hands flailed helplessly against the madness surrounding them.
Then Siren saw them.
Tall, shadowy figures moved like ghosts through the chaos. Their crimson armor gleamed ominously in the sepia light cast by the burning houses. Across their chests was emblazoned the white emblem of a yawning dragon, Yahlvern the Cataclysm. Black, tattered capes hung from their shoulders, snapping in the stormy wind.
They carried weapons as dark as the night itself. Greatswords, blacker than coal, hung vertically downward from their grips, the hilts held over their chests in a chillingly ceremonial pose, like pallbearers in a grim funeral procession. Others wielded long black bidents or black philosopher's staffs.
The figures moved without urgency, cutting through the fleeing masses with ruthless efficiency. Siren's breath caught in her throat as she saw one of them cleave a boy in half. The child couldn't have been older than six.
Her heart lurched. She slammed the shutters shut, her trembling hands barely obeying her.
Is this a bad dream? Am I still asleep? Trapped in a nightmare?
She stared at the closed shutters, but the image lingered in her mind: a window to hell showing her its horrors. She was drenched, not from the rain, but from the sweat that now soaked her body.
Siren turned to Saga. The poor girl stood frozen, terrified to her bones.
Who am I kidding? When my entire body is shaking…
"What is happening, Siren?" Saga's voice was broken, barely above a whisper.
"I don't know," Siren replied, her honesty tasted bitter. She forced the next question out, her voice wavering. "Where are Uncle and Auntie?"
"They're not in their room!" Saga cried, panic rising in her tone. "They didn't come home!"
Siren's thoughts raced, brain working overtime. A swift decision had to be made, and it had to be the right one. The lives of her family depended on it. She'd always wanted to be a champion warrior, this was her moment, the opportunity presented itself to prove her mettle.
"Saga, listen to me carefully," Siren said, her voice steady despite the storm raging in her heart. She strode out of her room, her twin trailing close behind with the flickering candle.
They entered the small gym room adjacent to Siren's bedroom. Without hesitation, Siren yanked a pair of leather pants off a rack and slipped into them. Next, she reached for her breastplate, emblazoned with the radiant sun symbol of a protector.
As she fastened the straps, she spoke with resolve. "I don't know exactly what's happening out there, but it's clear we're under attack. The protectors have failed, and now it's up to us to make sure that we protect ourselves and get out of this alive. But we can't leave Aunty Yrsa and Uncle Vor behind, they're all we have. Our only family."
Saga nodded, her eyes brimmed with tears. She clutched the candle tray tightly, her hands trembling.
Fully armored, Siren laced up her boots and took down her longsword, an ornate weapon gifted by her master, Sir Boris. She secured the sheathed blade at her side.
Ready for battle, Siren turned to her twin, exuding as much composure as she could muster. "Saga, here's the plan. I'm going out to find aunty Yrsa and bring her back. I'll try to find Uncle too, but he should be safe, he's with the chronali and the human emissaries, and they won't be left unguarded."
Saga's face crumpled, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks.
Siren leaned closer to her sister, her voice soft yet firm. "While I'm gone, lock every door and window in the house. Then go to your room and hide under your bed. Don't come out, no matter what. Do you understand?"
Saga nodded slowly, her sobs muffled as she bit her trembling lip.
Siren forced herself to ignore the haunting screams outside, the piercing cries of women and children that twisted her gut like a knife.
Her voice faltered, cracking as she spoke, "I don't want to leave you, Saga. But you can't use magic or wield a sword. And the invaders…" She swallowed hard, steadying herself. "I can't fight through them and protect you at the same time. I'm not that strong yet."
Saga's lip quivered as she stifled another sob.
Siren placed a firm hand on her sister's shoulder, their eyes locking. Her voice was calm, saturated with strange strength. "Saga, I will come back for you. I promise to keep you safe. Do you believe me?"
"Yes," Saga whispered, her trembling easing slightly. "You go, Siren. I'll wait in my room. Under the bed."
"Good girl. Stay quiet and stay strong."
Siren cupped her sister's tear-streaked face and kissed her forehead gently. Holding Saga's gaze, she said, "When I find Aunty Yrsa and Uncle Vor, I'll return for you. The four of us will escape together. Alright?"
Saga nodded resolutely, her fear momentarily subdued.
Siren straightened with a heavy heart but she felt resolved. She crossed the living room, her boots clacking against the floor. At the door, she paused to glance over her shoulder, taking in her sister's face one last time.
Then she stepped out into hell.