The smell of burned flesh and wet ash clung to Ruvan's nose as he stumbled out from the tannery at dawn. His legs felt like iron bars welded to the ground, refusing to move at first. Old Marrick grasped his arm firmly, urging him on.
"Come, lad. We must find the others… if any survived," the old man rasped, his voice raw from smoke and grief.
Ruvan didn't answer. His eyes drifted to the ruins of the forge. Blackened timber still smoked, charred beams sticking out like the broken ribs of a giant beast. The memory of Ferric's final breath replayed over and over in his mind. Each time he saw the hammer fall, each time he felt his master's blood spray warm against his cheek, something inside him cracked a little further.
"Lad, listen to me." Marrick's grip tightened. "We can mourn later. For now, we survive."
They moved through the narrow back alleys, avoiding the open streets where raiders still prowled, searching for stragglers. Bodies lay sprawled in the dirt: farmers, militia, mothers clutching their children. Some were burned beyond recognition. Others were left with eyes staring blankly at the dawn sky, as if begging the gods to explain why.
Near the baker's shop, Ruvan heard muffled crying. He stopped so suddenly Marrick almost tripped over him.
"What is it?" Marrick hissed, fear flickering across his soot-smeared face.
"Listen."
The old man fell silent. There it was again – a thin, broken sob, rising and falling with a desperate rhythm. Ruvan turned towards the sound, stepping over shattered beams and fallen roof tiles until he found its source.
The old bakery was a collapsed ruin. One wall had caved inward, crushing the shelves and ovens. Broken beams and bricks formed a jagged mound in the centre of the room. From beneath the rubble, the crying came – a child's voice, weak and choked.
"Help… please… someone… it hurts… Mama… Mama…"
Ruvan dropped to his knees, clawing at the fallen bricks. Ash and dust billowed up with each stone he shifted. His fingers bled as he tore away splintered wood. Marrick grabbed his shoulders.
"Ruvan, we can't—"
"She's alive!" Ruvan snapped, shoving the old man's hands away. "She's alive, Marrick!"
He dug faster, ignoring the pain as a rusted nail tore open his palm. Blood dripped onto the grey dust, disappearing instantly. Beneath the rubble, the crying turned into frantic whimpering.
"I'm here!" Ruvan shouted, choking on dust. "I'm coming! Hold on!"
Finally, he uncovered a small gap between two beams. Through the narrow space, he saw her: a little girl, no more than six or seven, curled up against a cracked flour barrel. Her hair was matted with blood and soot. Tears carved clean streaks down her grimy cheeks. One of her legs was trapped beneath a fallen timber, twisted at an unnatural angle.
She looked at him with wide, terrified eyes.
"Mama…" she sobbed weakly. "Where's… Mama…"
Ruvan swallowed hard, fighting the tightness in his throat. He reached through the gap and brushed her cheek with his fingertips.
"It's alright," he whispered, forcing his voice to stay calm despite the quiver. "I'm here. I'll get you out."
She clutched his fingers with surprising strength, her tiny hand trembling violently.
"Please… it hurts… I want Mama…"
"Shh… I know. I know it hurts. What's your name?"
"Li… Lira…"
"Lira. That's a beautiful name. My name is Ruvan. I'm going to save you, okay? Just hold on for me."
He turned to Marrick, who hovered behind him, wringing his hands.
"Help me lift this beam," Ruvan ordered. "We can pull her free."
"Boy, listen to yourself!" Marrick hissed urgently. "We can't. If they hear us—"
"Then let them come!" Ruvan snapped, his voice rising. "She's just a child!"
He gripped the beam with both hands and strained upwards. His arms burned with the effort. The wood didn't budge. He tried again, planting his feet and heaving with all his strength. His vision blurred with tears. The beam shifted a single inch before settling back with a groaning creak.
Lira screamed.
"Stop!" Marrick begged, grabbing his shoulders. "You'll bring the whole pile down on her! Ruvan, please… we have to go. We can't save her. Look at the structure – it's collapsing with every move."
Ruvan ignored him, slamming his shoulder under the beam and pushing with every ounce of strength in his body. His muscles tore with pain. Blood ran down his arms from splinters and cuts. Dust rained from above.
"Ruvan, STOP!" Marrick shouted.
The beam slipped sideways. There was a sickening crunch from below. Lira's scream cut off abruptly, replaced by ragged, silent gasps.
"No… no, no, no…" Ruvan clawed at the rubble, frantic. He shoved aside bricks, reached down, but her small chest no longer moved. Her eyes stared blankly up at him, glassy and unseeing.
She was gone.
He sat there, breathing hard, feeling his heartbeat slam against his ribs. The forge fire had burned his master to ashes. Now the rubble had crushed a child before his eyes.
He reached in and closed her eyes gently with trembling fingers.
"Forgive me… please… forgive me…" he whispered brokenly.
Marrick tugged at his arm, tears streaming down his old, wrinkled cheeks. "We have to go, lad. They're coming. We can't help her now."
Ruvan turned, numb, and saw shadows moving through the smoke outside. Raiders shouted to each other in their guttural tongue, boots thudding against the cobbles.
"Come on," Marrick pleaded. "If they catch us here, we die for nothing."
Ruvan pulled his hand away from Lira's cooling cheek. The warmth was already fading. He pressed his bloody palm against his own chest, over his racing heart.
Then he stood, stumbling after Marrick into the alley. The old man led him down winding lanes towards the eastern gate, where other survivors huddled in terrified silence, waiting for a chance to flee into the forest.
But every step Ruvan took, he heard her cries behind him.
Please… it hurts… I want Mama…
The sound carved itself into his mind, each syllable a red-hot brand on his soul. The smell of blood and burned wood mixed with the phantom scent of fresh bread from her mother's bakery, a scent that would never return.
As they reached the gate, he turned back one last time. Smoke curled into the pale morning sky. The village he knew was gone, reduced to ashes and corpses.
He clenched his fists so hard his nails cut his palms again. Tears blurred his vision, but behind the tears, a cold resolve crystallised.
He could not save her. He could not save Master Ferric. But he would forge himself into something that could.
A blade that cuts through darkness itself…
He heard Ferric's dying words echo like hammer strikes in his mind.
One day, he swore, no child would scream like that again while he still drew breath.
No matter what it took, he would become strong enough to silence the screams of the innocent forever.
Even if it meant becoming a monster to do it.