The Leirions surged across the north bridge, outstripping the guards' attempts to cut it down. They were a large pack of lycanthropes, Trasgorian in origin, the most feared of all such hunting beasts. In mere seconds, the bridge was theirs. Though some lycanthropes were ensnared in traps, many more broke through, with still more arriving. The guards fought desperately to defend the bridge, but the sheer number of invaders was overwhelming—ten Lycans for every guard in the village.
The Lycans' claws, some eight to ten centimeters long, could slice through steel like cardboard. Some towered ten feet tall, their ferocious attacks sending fragments of flesh and limbs scattering like toys. The guards were swiftly overwhelmed, and despair gripped the village. Once the alarm was raised about the north bridge's fall, the west side guards immediately cut their ropes, destroying their own bridge.
These guards hadn't anticipated such a swift and brutal invasion. The possibility of the north blockade falling so quickly hadn't even crossed their minds, and in doing so, they inadvertently sealed off the village's only safe escape.
The platform became a slaughterhouse with no way out. Leaping into Lake Zafir was practically suicidal. The fall was over twenty meters, and the lakebed was a treacherous expanse of sharp rocks. This was precisely why the village was built on pillars above the lake rather than on its banks.
Those caught in the open were instantly subjected to a ruthless attack. Screams of pain and despair echoed through the village, growing in intensity. The central area became a bloodbath, littered with human remains—a truly miserable scene.
A sudden silence descended upon the village after only a few minutes of the invasion. All those caught outside their homes had met their end. The Lycans began sniffing the air with frenzied intensity, howling at Humbra's moons. One by one, the houses were breached. Each crashing door was followed by fleeting screams, then an unsettling silence.
Leo was in his room, his mind racing with a sickening dread. Where were his parents? What had become of them? Should he try to find them? And Mia, was she safe? Each question was a hammer blow against his already crumbling resolve.
The sounds of splintering doors, howls, and screams pulled him back to the present. He cautiously rose and peered through a narrow gap between the wooden planks of his window.
A massive lycanthrope, five meters tall with white fur, stood feeding on a woman's head. The sight stole Leo's breath, his stomach churning. A choked gasp escaped his lips.
The alpha lycan looked directly at Leo at that very instant, dropping the head and turning toward the house. Leo's father, Noah, was in the living room, his face grim, a kitchen knife clutched in his hand, ready to defend his family and buy them time to escape. As the lycanthrope smashed through the door, a sweeping slash of its claws obliterated everything in the room. The blow cleaved Noah in two, his body falling in a gruesome heap amidst the shattered dining table and chairs.
Leo recoiled, a silent scream trapped in his throat. He staggered back, his legs trembling, and fell into the corner of his room. He was paralyzed by fear. He couldn't think nor even breathe. The stench of raw and metallic blood filled the air, choking him. Seconds before the Leirion burst into his room, a hand grabbed his arm, pulling him from his terrified trance.
"Run, my son...!" Leah, Leo's mother, whispered through tears.
They both jumped out the bedroom window and fled blindly. The albino lycan gave chase, along with two others nearby. They had covered about 40 yards when Leah spotted a water reservoir built beneath the platform, hoping to find shelter within.
Leah quickly helped Leo into the compartment. The heavy, thundering footsteps grew closer. As Leah positioned herself in the reservoir's small opening, a peculiar chill ran down her spine, followed by a sharp pain in her right leg that rapidly intensified.
The lycanthrope had reached her. With a predatory leap, it savagely tore off Leah's right leg. Reacting instantly, Leah mustered her remaining strength and punched the Lycan in the snout with such force that a sonic boom echoed through the village. BANG! The impact sent it flying backwards 16 yards, crashing into a nearby warehouse.
"A Neumond?" the alpha lycan thought, its snout throbbing with pain.
While most Lycans were driven by instinct, some evolved Leirions—alphas, chieftains, and other mystical creatures—retained a degree of intelligence.
Mother and son were inside the elevator. Their combined weight snapped the rope, sending them plummeting to the bottom of the cylindrical reservoir, but they were lucky that day. The well was nearly empty, with only a few inches of water due to the lack of rain and constant use.
Leo stared in mute horror at his mother's wound. Blood pulsed from the ragged stump where her leg had been, staining the muddy water around them a sickening crimson. It wasn't a clean cut, but a mangled mess of flesh and bone.
Despite the well's depth, the high moons of Humbra cast a faint twilight glow inside.
"Son, I need you... to... to help me," Leah said through gritted teeth, forcing a smile.
Leo nodded, tears streaming down his face.
"You need to be strong, my little prince! Can you do that for me?" She asked, her voice strained but her gaze warm.
Leo swallowed hard, his throat tight with unshed tears. He knelt beside his mother, who leaned against the reservoir wall. He knew she had given everything to save him. He owed her this.
"Cut a strip from your… shirt... a thin one, please, baby." Leah requested.
Leo hesitated for a moment, his gaze fixed on the tattered remains of his shirt, before he ripped a long strip of cloth from the worn fabric.
"Now… I need you... to be strong! You are my prince... Tie it with all... all your strength around mom's leg. Please…" Leah's strength was fading as she spoke.
Leo's hands trembled as he looked at his mother's mangled leg, the raw bone gleaming in the dim light. Bile rose in his throat, but he forced it down. He had to be strong for her. He was just a child.
"Be strong, son... I... I don't have much time. Mom will help you…!" Leah pleaded.
For a boy of ten years old, it was an intolerable nightmare. He had just lost his father; everyone he knew in the village was slaughtered, and he didn't know if Mia was alive. All he knew was that he had to be strong; his mother needed him. The lycanthropes' snarls and howls echoed above them, terrorizing them with their reminder of the danger they were in. He had to endure.
Leo took the strip of cloth and, with trembling hands, carefully wrapped it around his mother's leg as she whimpered in pain. She instructed him to tighten it with all his strength on a count of three.
"One... two... three... AHHHRG!" Leah cried out in agony as both tightened the tourniquet.
Leah had lost a lot of blood and was exhausted. She pulled Leo close, hugging him tightly, her body shaking. They remained silent in the dark well in the cold night
Gradually, the lycans' howls faded, leaving only a heavy silence and a crushing sadness. Leah knew she didn't have much time; her wound was too severe.
"Son, listen…" Leah said, her gaze full of love.
"Yes, Mom."
"What I'm going to tell you is very serious; listen carefully."
"Okay…" Leo confirmed cautiously.
"Soon Mom will go to meet Dad." Leah was interrupted.
"NO! No, Mom… I don't wanna be alone!" Leo implored. His voice was cracking with despair.
He was the smartest boy in the village, had studied since he was very young, and fully understood the situation, but he didn't want his mother to confirm it.
"There is no other way, my son. Mom has lost too much blood, and there's no way for us to get out of here."
She looked up at the narrow opening, a faint circle of moonlight far above. Leah knew the walls were solid wood, and the reservoir was cylindrical; climbing fifteen meters to the top without help would be impossible for Leo.
They could try to break through the bottom of the reservoir and escape through the lake—after all, the fall from the bottom of the well into the lake would only be four or five meters—but even she didn't have the strength to break through that solid wooden floor. It was impossible.
Dawn finally broke; hours had passed agonizingly slowly. Leo had been trying to climb for hours, but he couldn't get more than two meters; the walls were smooth and covered in mud. It was truly impossible without help.
"Baby, talk to me a little to distract me; it's getting very cold," Leah whispered to Leo, her body wracked with shivers.
Leo stared at his mother; she was deathly pale, her lips tinged purple, and dark circles had formed under her eyes. He knew somehow that she was slipping away.
"Mom? Are you okay?" Leo asked, worried. His voice was a barely whisper.
"I am okay; I just need to rest a little... Tell me, how are you and Mia?" Leah managed to whisper.
"Mom, I made a promise to Mia. I said I would take care of her… as soon as we get out of here, I'll tell her everything. I hope she's okay. I even gave her a plushie, Lenny; well, with Dad's tips," he said with a hint of embarrassment, trying to distract his mother.
Leah's heart ached for her son, for the innocence he had lost and for the burdens he now carried. She was deeply concerned about Leo, attempting to soothe and divert his attention. She knew this situation was a dead end.
"That's very good, Leo. Take good care of your friends and be a great man to your future wife. Always eat healthy food at the right times and in moderate amounts. Study as much as you can. I hope you get a good job, my son. Your father and I are proud of you. I bless you, my love." Tears streamed down Leah's face.
Her eyes fluttered, and for a moment, she wasn't in the cold, dark well anymore. She saw a fleeting image: Leo, older, stronger, his eyes blazing with a fierce light. He was facing a creature of darkness, a golden pendant shining in his hand. Then the vision was gone. Leah had a vision—a premonition. Leo was held aloft a familiar golden pendant, its surface gleaming with power in that quick glimpse. She knew she wouldn't last much longer.
"Mom…" He hugged her tightly.
"Take this necklace." Leah weakly unclasped her necklace and pressed it into his hand. "Live, my baby; survive; be strong. I... love... you... forev…" Leah's voice faded away while her hand fell down with no resistance.
"Mom...? Mom! I LOVE YOU TOO!! MOM!!! Don't leave me here alone! Wake up, Mom! I promise to be a better son and never leave the village again! LEAH!!!" His cries were raw, desperate, echoing in the confined space of the well. He clung to her lifeless body. His chest was heaving, trying to find air through his sobs.
For hours, Leo wept over his mother's body, embracing her and reminiscing about how she had been a devoted, hardworking, and caring mother. He recalled how she would do his laundry and, even amidst her own work, would stop just to give him a little treat. He remembered her helping him with his schoolwork, always with a smile and unwavering patience. Leah gave her love to Leo with everything that she could have. He vowed that he would survive at any cost; it was his duty, a reciprocal act of gratitude. His mind had shattered on that fateful day. He had lost his parents and everyone he knew, and he was still trapped in that abyss.
The days passed, one after another. Leo had lost all hope; he no longer knew how long he had been in that pit with his mother. His mind was clouded; hunger gnawed at him, and despair filled his thoughts. To survive, he drank the rainwater that was collected at the bottom. The water, unfortunately, was not clean all the time. He would try to drain it to renew when the rain offered a fresh supply. Eventually, he grew numb to the difficult conditions.
Many days had passed—only the gods knew how many. The hunger was overwhelming for Leo, a boy of just 10 years old. When he was on the verge of fainting from starvation, he made a difficult choice to survive, remembering his promise to his beloved mother. He spotted a small lizard skittering along the wall. He lunged, trapping it with his hand. He stared at the creature for a long moment, his stomach churning, then, with a grimace, he ate it. He felt so nauseous but could clench his jaw and persevered to survive. Leo's spirit was deeply wounded, but he prayed to the Seven Gods of Humbra every night before sleeping, like his mom taught him, seeking strength and hope.
Leo had already considered smashing his head into the solid wood until he passed out and died there. He had tried countless times to climb out without success and had screamed until his voice faded into a hoarse whisper. In the end, he just wanted to be with his mother; he missed her, and her body being there only made everything worse—it would be better to just leave.
As his last tears fell and he prepared for suicide, voices could be heard in the distance, mingling with the rain that had returned that day.
"People?" Leo wondered, confused. He wondered if it was just a figment of his imagination.
He then chose to shout—it couldn't hurt; it was just one more of the tens of thousands of attempts he made day after day.
"Help…!" Leo tried to yell, but he was very weak, almost without any strength. "Someone… please… save… me…!" He tried with his last bit of energy, but there was no breath left in his lungs.
***
After 14 days without communication, the rescue guard and reinforcements, along with caravans, had arrived at the village of Besen. Due to the intensity of the massacre, the neighboring city of Gothia had been slow to realize what had happened. The time it took to rebuild a bridge was excessive in those flooded areas with ravines around Lake Zafir.
"Captain Roland! We're arriving!" shouted the coachman.
"My God, it was a massacre." Roland whispered, his gaze sweeping over the ravaged village, his face grim.
"Captain, it looks like we're in hell," said one of the guards.
"Everyone, search everything! Look for any signs of life!" Roland bellowed.
Roland got out of the wagon and commanded the guards, who followed in a line. Everyone was working their hardest, gathering the bodies and trying to identify them to give them a proper burial.
"Joshua! Get over here, help me with this jammed door!" one of the guards shouted.
"Useless creature," replied the soldier Joshua.
Joshua and other guards were trying to open one of the house doors to retrieve some of the bodies. As they heaved, the splintered wood groaning in protest, when they finally managed to open the door, a distinct sound crossed his mind. Joshua looked towards the sound…
He heard the sound of wind, raindrops, the steps of war boots—ordinary sounds.
"Joshua! This one's heavy; help me! Stop dozing off!" A soldier shouted.
Joshua turned to the soldier and grumbled, "What a crappy job!"
The soldiers searched the houses and recovered all the bodies, beginning a simple cleanup and organization to begin the burial soon. The soldiers began working on organizing the objects that were scattered throughout the village. While carrying a bucket that was in the way, Joshua again heard a sound behind him. He stopped, looked, and saw rain, wind, boots... He then realized that his work was almost over.
The soldiers managed to identify most of the bodies and buried them in a plain near the road as a sign of respect, with a memorial.
Roland prepared his wagon with the important items and shouted for the guards to line up; the battalion was about to depart. Roland ran through the battalion, checking if everything was in order. When he reached the last man in line and saw that everything was okay, he ordered the march. The battalion began its march back. Roland then turned back to the village of Besen and, with a bitter taste in his mouth, silently questioned why such an atrocity had happened. As he turned to follow the battalion, a metallic sound crossed his mind, and he looked again at the city. The rain blurred his vision, and fatigue clouded his mind.
Roland then turned back to the battalion, which was already distant. The sound of rain, the leaves, the almost inaudible lake—a silence prevailed.
A metallic sound crossed his mind again; Roland turned and looked at the city. Then the sound repeated. Roland now knew it wasn't just fatigue; he had really heard something.