Staring into the face of death is not something a lot of people will willingly do for others, hell people will walk away even if you scream for help.
I've learned that people will turn away from you if they are afraid or if there is nothing in it for them. That's just how the world works and there is no sense in denying it.
Relying on oneself has been the only way I've been able to survive in the years I've been alone.
It had been ten years since I witnessed my whole world burn before my eyes.
The day started like any other, but today was special. It was the eve of my eighth birthday and I was going through the list of things I wanted to do.
Flowers, music, an open bonfire and maybe even cake!
I remember sitting by the fire talking to my mother about the party and my father was busy sorting through some paperwork.
"I can't wait! Alhena and I are gonna stuff our faces so much!" I said, " Of course we'll leave a tiny bit for the other kids as well," I hastily added on.
"Only a tiny bit?" my father said amused and stood up from his desk and stretched, "All done, could you read through it?" he sighed contently while looking at my mother.
My father was an official in our village and was part of the council, sometimes he would work so hard, his desk had a facial indentation from the number of times he slept there and because of it, he would make mistakes on his reports and letters.
That's where my mother came in. Even though she had the same ranking as my father, she often would skip out on her meetings and help out at the children's academy as a teacher. She was not a happy camper when she found out what was happening at work and from then on demanded that my father show her everything and corrected it if need be.
"Sure let me finish up here," she said, smiling down at me. "What else do you want?"
Looking down at me with such love and care in her eyes, gentle and brown.
"Could we get some cak-" I was interrupted by an ear-shattering scream, unlike any I've ever heard before, followed by another and soon it was as though the entire village was being engulfed in flames.
A bright orange glow lit up our room. My father rushed over to the windows and peered outside, his face instantly paled and beads of sweat began to form, From where I stood I could see the shadows of people running amok. He glanced back at my mother frantically before running over to pull aside the same rug I was sitting on moments prior and revealed a door, shoving me and my mother down it.
"I'll buy you as much time as I can, no matter what you see don't come out and do not make a sound," he whispered the last part, directing it at me.
''I'll see you around cub," and kissed me and my mother on the head before closing the door over our heads, sealing us in.
Our front door burst open and in came four bloodthirsty Răurians. The stench of iron and sweat filled the air and invaded my nostrils as the came into view. Blood coated their weapons and I nearly vomited. I clung to my mother as I tried not think about whose blood stained those blades, whether they were my friends or family.
I felt fear as it ran up and down my spine, pricking my skin and shivered when I looked into their bloodshot maniacal eyes. Even from here I could practically see their bloodlust running through the air, spreading itself outwards, encompassing our living room, poisoning its usual serene atmosphere.
Two years ago there was a feud between our village leader and their tribal chief, as a result, outright war. Blood spewed from both sides as battles raged on and as the raged we realised the cost was too great. So a treaty was made and for a while, peace reigned but over the course of time, it began teetering on the edge of violence once more.
The Rău were a tribe of savages, their form of pleasure was seeing other peoples guts being spilt on the floor.
'Men who fight without reason cannot be reasoned with.' That was the saying our elders used to use at the beginning of every history lesson.
I never really understood what it meant, but I was being to realize it with brutal clarity.
It was not just a man standing off against his opponents.
It was not a stranger.
This was My father facing four madmen who would kill him without a second thought before turning towards the next unfortunate soul.
I tried to keep quiet and not squirm. I knew my father needed to concentrate.
It was mandatory that everyone in our village knew how to fight, in case a situation like this ever arose. It had been like this since the beginning. We weren't normal folk. Ours was a village of warriors.
I had started my training last year alongside with the other seven-year-olds and I felt proud that I could hold my own against Alhena, my best friend, despite already having a year's advantage over me.
I saw my father dashed towards his table and drew out a sleek, shiny sword. Its pommel bare save for the snarling face of our kingdom's animal. A panther. A reminder to never seem weak in the face of our enemy.
He barely had any time to raise his sword before one of the men charged recklessly and swung his sword towards my father, aiming for his head. He met the blow head on snarling as the two weapons clashed and sparks flew. He grunted beneath the force the man was putting on his blade. He was a hulking brute, twice the mass of my own father. The Răurian pushed forward forcing my father to take a step back, sweat was pouring from his brow and I saw his arms tremble. I could see he was struggling and worry arose within me.
But before he was cornered, he pushed against the wall, using it as a propeller and shoved the man into a wall adjacent to him. I heard a loud thud as his head snapped back, hitting the wall and knocked him out.
He turned towards the other two savage men and raised his sword once more. The fight was beginning to wear him down. He wiped his sweat on the hem of his sleeve before launching into a series of attacks and dodges, parrying with the other two louts.
I began to feel a sense of dread wash over me.
Where was the fourth?
From beneath the floorboards, I could see what was happening through the gaps in the floor, I started desperately searching for the barbarian until I saw something move. The hideous fiend lunged out towards my father, dagger in hand. I gasped out. My father must have heard because he whirled around and plunge his sword straight into the man's gut, the sound of steal plunging into soft flesh. It wedged itself between muscle and bone. The man screamed out in animalistic rage and pain. Without missing a beat my father roughly yanked his sword out, making the entry wound even bigger. The man's innards spilling onto the ground, the stench of blood filling the air, mixed with his gastric juices. It was disgusting.
I knew my father could fight, I expected him too. It's just that I've never seen him this way before, his face, usually so kind and full of joy, now filled with seething animosity. There was no pity in his eyes as he turned around and I saw they were bloodshot and rimmed with primal rage. He now played judge and jury as he faced off the two sword-wielders, Leaving the man choking on his blood, to die.
Now there were only two left. He kept on parrying with them blocking and lunging.
He feinted to the right and lunged left, not giving his opponent any time to recover. Father slashed his sword with all his might across the man's back, slicing through the bone causing him to stumble forward yelling out loud. He whirled and in a frenzy of bloodlust, not caring that his comrade was in the way and hurtled his axe in a last ditch effort to kill my father, before slamming face first into the floor with a loud thud.
The axe flew through the air, getting closer to my father's exposed back when he dodged it and embedded itself into his partner's chest. The Ràurian fell to his knees and looked up at my father with such hatred in his eyes, before falling forward and sinking the axe further into his chest, killing him.
Silence filled the air and for a moment I couldn't breathe. Was it all over? I ran up the stairs and flung the trap door wide open.
He turned towards me and smiled tiredly. I was so relieved that it was finally over, I looked over to my mother and started to smile, but it faltered when she started screaming in agony, her eyes were wide as they looked over my shoulder.
No, no, NO.
I whirled around and screamed when I saw a sword sticking out from my father's chest, his eyes went wide when he realised what had happened and started to cough out blood, it slowly dribbled down his chin. It was then I saw who was behind him. It was the same man father knocked out earlier on in the fight.
He pulled out his sword and my father fell to the floor and his chest stopped moving.
The man took a step forward, over my father's limp body. I couldn't even move. I was terrified. I didn't know what to do.
But mother did. She grabbed my hand and father's sword and ran straight at the man who took a step back and with a mighty cry of anger and sorrow, plunged the sword right through his heart instantly killing him. She ran out through the door with me in tow.
Leaving my father's lifeless body behind, dead.
