Slower Than Molasses, Part 2: Reconnaissance

Limerence grunted and groaned and struggled as we coerced him across the wet, petal-dappled grass.  Agapa had found an absurdly tall dandelion poking out of the earth and, having removed the flowery bit at the top, had converted it into a makeshift rope and wrapped it twice around Limerence.  Presently, she tugged the cookie out from the western edge of the almond orchard as a man might tug along a reluctant poodle--or a Labrador, or any other kind of dog.  I confess that my understanding of dog breeds is quite limited.

"Come now, Lim!" Agapa grumbled at him as she stepped onto the sidewalk.  "You are making this more toilsome than it needs to be!"

"My job was to bring confusion," retorted the bound cookie, "not to make your life easier."

"Your life will be much easier if you cooperate!"

"Is that a threat?"

Agapa let the question hang in the air, and at length it became obvious that she would not answer--which, in my professional opinion, was far more foreboding than any answer she could have conjured.  Dave hopped out of the muddied grass and onto the sidewalk, and I followed right behind him, serving as our company's rearguard.  It was not until then that I noticed my whisk was still held firmly between the ends of my arms, the crumbs of my enemies--soggy beneath the evening drizzle--specked across its metallic surface.  I flicked the crumbs onto the concrete and strapped my makeshift mace onto my back.

Cars were scarce on this side of Main Street so late in the day, and the inclement weather made them scarcer.  The park, which had been filled earlier with obnoxious shrieking children and their elders, appeared as though it had been abandoned for half a century.  I could no longer tell where the sun was.  The clouds were so heavy and prevalent that not a shred of blue could be seen; this created a darkness uncharacteristic of the early evening, and indeed the darkness was so thick that I could hardly make out the hill to which Ginger and Klaus had headed in the late afternoon.

After a glance and a nod from Agapa, we stepped onto the asphalt and headed northeast with all possible haste.  The intermittent sprinkling was an annoyance that left our normally crisp features soft and soggy, and that made the going slower; but on the positive side, we were not in danger of being seen, as no human above the age of eleven (assuming that said human is in his right mind) enjoys standing in the cold rain.  In less than two minutes we had made it across the street and into the foliage ringing the park, but we appeared to be no closer to our destination.  Still the hill loomed faint and almost imperceptible on the horizon.

"This is a fool's errand," muttered Limerence.  "Ginger parted the almond orchard well over an hour ago.  King Shol and his army are already long gone by now--and with both of your friends in tow, most likely."

I stepped through the foliage and pressed the oaf against a sturdy root. "We said nothing of King Shol.  How do you know of him?"

"Did I say 'King Shol'?" asked the cookie with a wicked grin.  "I think you must have misheard me."

"Dave," said Agapa, tightening her grip on her foe's leash, "have you any information for us?"

Dave stepped forward, and I could see that he was trembling beneath Limerence's challenging gaze.  "I--well, yes, although I was one of the less-informed members of our group.  We know of King Shol and his desire to rule the vale's mice with an iron paw.  We also know that he has long sought your friend, Klaus."

"How came you by this information?"

Dave winced, as though he were reliving a now painful memory.  "The night we left Mr. Theo's house, we felt compelled to fly over to Cowtown, which borders Sprinkleton on the east; it was like a voice was calling us to forsake our creator, who had made us imperfect, and to find the one who would complete us.  It was not long before we found Tanas, the son of Mr. Theo."

Hearing the name of my former master never got easier, and hearing that he was alive and well made matters even worse.  I released Limerence and turned to Dave.  "Ginger was right, then.  You and your ilk did see Tanas."

"A bit slow, are we?" Limerence teased.  "Did I not say that it was Tanas who gave us our commission?"

"He filled us in on a wealth of information in a short time," Dave shared.  "He slighted his father, calling him a tyrant and an abuser of his influence and power.  He gave us an update as to the whereabouts of his few remaining loyal followers, and explained that two gingerbread cookies named Sugar and Clove served as their leaders and were presently securing an alliance with King Shol the mouse.  Then he gave us our commission, telling us that were we to find much success, we would be a great help to the efforts of our brethren in the vale.  He pulled Limerence aside and spoke to him privately...and that was it."

"You're telling me that the Christmas cookies and King Shol are brothers in arms?" I asked, unable to hide my gasp.

"Some of the cookies lack arms.  But yes, metaphorically."

I exchanged a glance with Agapa, and the leader of the Cupid cookies sulked.  "I believe we now have an answer to a stinging question, do we not?" she said, a despondency in her voice.  "Molasses, it was a mystery why King Shol's spies breached the Colony Behind the Cabinets and freed the captive cookies.  Perhaps Sugar and Clove had an inkling as to where Klaus and his mice were hiding, and in exchange for that intel, King Shol freed their allies."

"Exactly what I was thinking," I replied.  I turned my attention again to our captive.  "So tell us, Limerence...have we rightly uncovered this conspiracy?"

The cookie scoffed.  "I am obligated to tell you nothing, and indeed, I have said enough already."

"We'll see about that."

Dave's eyes appeared gravely concerned.  "My friends, it's very likely that the surviving Cupid cookies will find Sugar and Clove and ensure that they're part of this...unholy alliance.  I just want you to know what we're up against."

I could not have stopped the sigh that escaped my mouth if I had tried.  "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.  I think we've discussed this enough for now.  It's time to get going."

Within the hour we had arrived at the crest of the hill, and over to the east we could see the entirety of the back yard in which King Shol had vowed to meet Klaus.  The territory around us was a confused mix of browns and greys and greens, the result of bushes and mud and grass and rain commingling.  We found a bush that stood as high as a tree, spiky and voluminous, and opted to take shelter under its branches.  From there we could see the yard and the base of the hill in three directions, and I felt a sense of confidence that nothing would catch us by surprise.  Dave and I sat down at once (one benefit of being soggy is that it allows us to bend in ways that are normally a challenge, and sitting suddenly becomes more plausible), and Limerence plopped down a second later.  There was a weariness emanating from Agapa, but I could see that she had no intention of being idle; she remained on her feet, clutching to her captive's reins tighter than ever.

Even from this distance, it was clear that the back yard was devoid of all life.  No host of mice was spread across the patio or along the fence line or among the blades of grass, and there was no sign of Klaus or my sister.  I tried not to expect the worst.  Perhaps the army had seized Klaus and released his friends, and Ginger was presently following them at a distance--or perhaps my sister had been too afraid to draw near to the yard and, like us, was hiding in a bush and studying her surroundings.  It was unlikely that she was atop the hill, however.  Limerence had whined so loudly as Agapa had dragged him across the hilltop that a family of frogs and one wandering deer had been spooked and fled from the area; if Ginger had been nearby, surely she would have heard the commotion and joined us.

After a few minutes of waiting and watching, we made down the eastern slope and used a supporting board--stretching from the hill to the fence--to gain entry to the back yard.  We entered the borders of an exotic bush and used it as cover in case our enemies were planning an ambush.  Thankfully, after a careful assessment of the yard and surrounding fence line, we concluded that we were not being watched, and so we inched out from the eastern side of the bush and toward the patio.  The light of day was failing, but the homeowners had turned on a light that illuminated the concrete slab lying beneath the pergola to the east.  On the edge of the concrete nearest us, I spotted three animal cracker boxes standing in an upright position.

"Boxes generally don't do that on their own," I pointed out.  "Someone was here."

"Indeed," said Agapa.  "Look! The boxes were given windows, likely so that their captives could breathe.  More telling is the fecal matter seen in several areas on the ground--left behind by some of the less continent mice, no doubt."

"Then they were here," I replied with an internal frown.  There was no sign of Ginger, not a single crumb.  "There are three boxes, one apiece for Horace, Arthur, and Ingrid."

"And their former captors left some time ago, it appears."

We reached the edge of the concrete, and I waved one arm over the patio.  "We should fan out and look for further signs; perhaps we can determine the direction that the mice took when they left the yard."

There is no telling how long we remained in that yard, studying every blade of grass, every centimeter of concrete, and every splinter of fence.  Eventually we decided that it was too difficult for us to get the lay of the land (nightfall had come by then), so we passed the evening within the boundaries of the exotic bush.  There we heard nothing out of the ordinary throughout the night (although to my shame, I must confess that I did doze off for a few hours, and my companions informed me when I awoke that I had shaken the ground with my snoring), and before we knew it, the sun was rising in the east and the birds were filling the air with their morning songs.  We waited until we heard the homeowners start up their car and drive off before we ventured out again and continued scouring the area.  It turned out that daylight did not improve our fortune in any way; tracks could not be followed over concrete, after all, and not even Agapa with her heightened senses could deduce anything other than the fact that the mice had been present there the previous day.  A fury and a discomfort filled me.  Not only were we without any indication as to the whereabouts of Ginger and Klaus, but because we had spent the night in one place, we had allowed the army to march on to their desire.  They could have been in another state by then--maybe even Kansas! 

Despite our distress and misfortune, we spent the next few days roaming around northeastern Sprinkleton, retracing our steps, and hoping that our friends had left behind some hint of their whereabouts.  Maybe Ginger had been willing to part with one of her candy buttons, or maybe Klaus had allowed the edge of his paring knife to rive the mud and leave behind a trail that would point to their location.  But alas! for we were eventually exhausted by our efforts and were no closer to learning the truth than we had been the day of our arrival at the back yard.  A discussion began to arise among us that the best recourse would be to return home and regroup.  I was the least amenable to this idea.  Ginger had risked her very life at Christmastime to ensure that I not walk the destructive path on which Tanas--and my own desires--had set me, and the least I could do was stay behind and refuse to give up on her.  Her willingness to obey Mr. Theo in the face of potential rejection and death warranted a similar response from me.  I made my thoughts known to the group.

"Returning to Mount Oniz is not a resignation," answered Agapa.  "We possess more resources there, which may better aid us in finding our friends."

"But--but what if, in our absence, we miss an important clue? Or what if Ginger is nearby, and she sees me, and cries out?"

"What a fool you are, Molasses," grumbled Limerence.  "There is no clue; King Shol and his allies would have been most watchful while they whisked away your friends.  Not to mention that we are nowhere near King Shol's prison."

"You are a buffoon and a scoundrel, Lim!" roared Dave.  "You mean to tell us that you know where Ginger and Klaus are being kept?"

"Oh yes, of course! I've known the whole time." Limerence's smile mocked us all.  "Unfortunately for the three of you, it's something you'll never know."

~THE END OF PART 2~

~"Slower Than Molasses, Part 3: Setback" set to release 5/1/24~

To see where the "Ginger & Klaus" series began, please check out the first and second books on Amazon:

--Ginger & Klaus: A Christmas Adventure

--Ginger & Klaus: Of Mice and Love

To see where the "Slower Than Molasses" series started, check out part 1 here:

--Slower Than Molasses, Part 1: War

Slower than Molasses, Part 1: War

 "You haven't sold me on why Ginger isn't back yet," Eggy the diminutive gingerbread cookie demanded, her voice so loud that the resulting sound wave caused the nearby pond to ripple.  "It's been months now, Molasses! Months! I mean, what would Mr. Theo think if he heard that you still haven't found your sister?"

It was a good question, judging by the nods that came from Reinhard the reindeer, Frostina the snowwoman, and Fennel the gingerbread man.  The four were perched on a rock along the pebbled beach beside the pond, their eyes unfriendly.  I couldn't help but feel that they were my jury and would be my executioners if I failed to provide satisfactory justification for my failures.  It was an unreasonable thought, I knew.  These cookies were Mr. Theo's chosen--his remnant!--and my friends...weren't they? They would never actually hurt me...right? Without thinking, I betrayed my discomfort by shifting dirt around along the ground in a circle.  My former sins came back to me in an instant, and I wondered if the pang of them would ever truly leave, and if I was deemed untrustworthy because of my past.  Once a scoundrel, always a scoundrel, I could imagine the cookies thinking.  He failed to obey his maker in the past, and he fails him still.

"Are you just going to stand there in silence?" asked Frostina.  If she had possessed arms, I'm certain she would have placed them...well, wherever a snowwoman's hips might be.

"I--" I could not tell if the sorrow or the lack of confidence were a larger impediment to me.  My sister was missing, and that reality pained me every day.  But I also wondered if my accusers would consider my account adequate.  "I--" Still the words would not come.  I probably would have been standing there all day, wordlessly, if I hadn't remembered how Mr. Theo forgave and redeemed me and treated me as though I had never betrayed him in the first place.  His love for me would not be taken away, even if all my efforts to find my sister were fruitless, and even if my peers scorned me for my failures.  I locked eyes with Eggy.  "It's shameful that you would place the burden on me alone to find my sister.  Every bit of intel I have points to the likelihood that both she and Klaus were abducted by an army.  How am I to confront an army? And another thing--you forget that nothing escapes our maker's attention.  How dare you limit his knowledge, and how dare you assume that his affection would be withdrawn from me because of momentary failings!"

Eggy almost recoiled at the words.  Rightfully so.  I didn't hear from her again for an hour.

"It's just not adding up, Molasses," said Fennel, his smooth baritone rounding out the light trills of the birds in the trees all around us.  "I'm not saying that you're lying to us, but maybe you just haven't shared the full story.  All you've told us is that you were separated from Ginger and Klaus by the Cupid cookies, that you believe them to have been abducted by some mice, and that you can't find them anywhere.  There must be more to the tale."

"There is," I admitted.  "Much more."

"Then tell us! We need to hear it--all of it!--from the beginning.  Then we'll determine what must be done, if anything."

"The entire tale, from the beginning." I took a deep breath.  "Okay.  Some of this is known to the other cookies, but I guess it's time to let you in on what has happened.  I'll tell you the story from the moment Ginger and Klaus left the almond orchard.  Hopefully that will show you why I have been so slow, and why I need help in seeking out Ginger's location."

Valentine's Day had ended nearly four months ago, but I could remember it like it was yesterday.  Limerence and his allies had explained to us that they desired to confound every creature in the valley, filling each creature with unholy affections for another; Ginger had already been struck the eve prior, and she had been acting odd all day, setting her "love" upon a mouse.  I suppose I should be thankful that she did not make a shrub the object of her affections, for that, too, is a living thing! But I feared that both I and my friends would succumb to the same vice if we were to be struck by the arrows of the twisted Cupid cookies.  And so I ordered Ginger to head to the top of the nearby hill--the vantage point from which we had intended to enter the back yard where Klaus's friends were being held--with our rodent ally.  She protested, but she found the necessary motivation when Agapa broke the silence by using one of her arrows to destroy an enemy cookie.  I joined the fray immediately thereafter, and I watched with gladness as my sister scuttled away.  

If not for Agapa's skill and a timely turn of the weather, the battle would have been lost.  It was a hard, glorious skirmish, the likes of which are lauded in history books and displayed in film.  Arrows flew all around us, and I thought it miraculous that I was able to sidestep one after another.  Agapa fared even better, using her wings and agility to flitter here and there as needed.  We were able to take down four or five of the cookies at the beginning due to their pure shock over our skills and speed; after that, it became challenging for either side to neutralize a target.  (To be fair, I think that our adversaries were taking caution not to release their arrows at full strength, for they wished to corrupt us rather than kill us.) So there we were for perhaps half an hour, stalemated, with no end in sight.  Only two more of our enemies were felled--I jumped out from behind a rock and smashed one to bits, and Agapa struck down one clumsy cookie who collided with his companion midair.  I should not feel ashamed to say so, but there were many moments when I would have found myself at the mercy of the twisted arrows were it not for Agapa's quick thinking.

The sky was darkening when something in the weather changed.  It is known that, at times, as the clouds are thick over Sprinklevale and the night is near, powerful winds hurdle down the slopes of Mount Oniz and ruffle the valley below.  Such an event occurred as though it were divinely decreed, and the branches of the almond trees--on which all of the cookies were planted at that moment--shook with tremendous force.  Our foes fell to the earth like stones, and even before their fall was ended I came upon them.  Without hesitation I destroyed four of them, and I would have continued had I not remembered the mercy that Ginger and Klaus--and Mr. Theo--had shown me.  So I placed the end of my whisk in the cold, wet grass and looked upon my seated enemies.

"Tanas has warped your minds," I informed them.  "I was in your same position not long ago.  What I learned is that Tanas promises much but can deliver nothing.  He promises power, but you are weakened.  He promises independence, but instead he separates you from your maker.  He promises liberty, but you receive shackles.  And the tragic fact is that you are blind to all this until your eyes are opened."

Nothing.  No response.  Just a host of blank stares, most of which were aimed at the trees or the clouds or anything that was not me.  

"It may irk you to heed the words of Molasses," Agapa addressed them, "but it is the truth.  From creative joyfulness you sprang forth from the mind of our maker, and it should be your will to obey and please him; but so easily have you been ensnared by the envious son of Mr. Theo.  I would weep for you, dear ones, had I the ability."

"What's so wrong about what we're doing?" asked one of the cookies.  "Isn't romantic love the most precious thing on earth? That's what Tanas told us."

"Don't humor them, Dave!" Limerence shouted.  "Don't even give them the time of day!"

Ah, so at least one of them is listening, I thought to myself.  I stepped forward and said, "Romantic love is beautiful, as long as its object is proper.  It is not beautiful in general, but only insofar as it obeys Mr. Theo's moral law.  And Tanas...well, that rogue has been warring against his father, and everything that his father stands for, since before any of us were alive.  His order was for you to do the very thing that is contrary to Mr. Theo's commands.  Mr. Theo is good.  Tanas is not.  So be careful not to be persuaded that everything you have been told is for your benefit and the benefit of Sprinklevale."

Dave looked devastated, the same way Ginger looked when she stared into a mirror and insisted that she had gained weight.  He shifted where he sat.  "This--this is terrible! What am I to do?"

"Forsake your ways and return to Mr. Theo," answered Agapa.  "You will find that his mercy is bountiful, if you come to him with true contrition."

"Mr. Theo is a tyrant and a fraud," Limerence told Dave.  "Don't you forget that he is the enemy!"

"But--but he made us," replied Dave.  "He made us, and he cared for us, and we turned away from him and listened to Tanas, whose motives were...questionable.  Lim, I think Tanas is the enemy."

"Blasphemy!" Limerence's fury was so heated that I thought he might become twice-baked.  "I will hear no more of these heresies.  Cupid cookies--my allies--let us leave this place!"

There were still too many winged foes for us to contain, so as they began to lift off into the air, I had to think quickly.  Limerence was their leader and seemed to possess more information about Tanas, the Cookies of Tanas, and the general goings-on of the vale.  The other troops swiftly proceeded to fly away, but in half a second I had leapt onto Limerence and impeded his ascent.  Agapa was busy firing arrows at our retreating foes, but Dave noticed my struggle and flapped his way over to us.  He clutched onto Limerence's wings, and the next thing I knew, the two of us had the corrupt Cupid cookie pinned to the mud.  His wings fluttered with a great frenzy, but this proved only to bring him harm, pressing him deep into a self-made quagmire.  It took nearly a full minute for him to realize there was nothing to be done; he was stuck, and there was no escape.   He relaxed his wings, but I could still sense a tension in every crumb of his body.

"One more enemy felled in the retreat, but no more," announced Agapa with frustration.  "Surely the survivors will be a menace to us in the future."

"We did what we could," I responded, pushing Limerence's face against a pebble.  "Thankfully, our efforts were not in vain."

"Indeed.  The leader of the fallen Cupid cookies...and a new friend, perhaps?"

Dave appeared to brighten at that.  "Y--Yes! Please! I mean--I would like to join you, if that's okay.  I'm not sure where else to go.  I could head back to Mount Oniz on my own, but I fear the cookies there may not trust me unless I have someone to speak for me.  I will need your help with that."

I nodded at him.  "You'll get it, when the time comes...friend."

Agapa gestured toward our new captive.  "What are we to do with Lim?"

"Well, he's going to come with us, too, as we look for my sister.  And he's going to tell us everything we need to know." 

~THE END OF PART 1~

~"Slower Than Molasses, Part 2: Reconnaissance" set to release 4/1/24~

To see where this series began, please check out "Ginger & Klaus: A Christmas Adventure" on Amazon! https://a.co/d/2PkSr6p

To see the story immediately preceding this blog post, please take a look at "Ginger & Klaus: Of Mice and Love" on Amazon! https://a.co/d/2gQFZf1

February Flash Fiction: Rivlo and the Attack on Armus Village

Rivlo was too young to understand much of anything, but he understood fear.  At least, he had always thought he understood fear.  Now that the creatures had burst into town--their skin slick, their tails sharp, and their swords sharper--he realized that there were levels of fear, and he was terrified.  He could see them skulking about outside his hide-covered bedroom window, some of them forcing their way into homes and seeking out the inhabitants within, and others pursuing the retreating villagers until they were out of sight.  There were a couple of times when he saw a man or woman trip in their flight, and one of the ugly fiends came upon them and lifted a thirsty blade--but he refused to witness the outcome, shutting his eyes and clapping his hands over his ears.  He knew those people were dead now; there was no need to confirm it.  The attackers desired extermination, not friendship.

But why did the Armian people have to suffer? They had kept to themselves for the past one hundred years, at least, most of them working as patrolmen in the northern Shadow Hills, or as fishermen, or as farmers.  Rivlo's neighbors were all friendly, honest people.  Even the mayor, whom half the town seemed to hate and the other half seemed to love, was a nice man who had never had much interest in connecting Armus with the rest of the world.  This attack seemed so very random.  Random and sudden.  The valley beyond town was expansive and sprinkled with individual farms; if the fiends wanted land or property so badly, there was plenty to be had in every direction.  So why Armus Village, and why now? It was just one more thing Rivlo's young mind could not comprehend.

His father, mother, and younger sister were there in his bedroom with him.  They had dragged the kitchen table into the room (they were now hiding under it) and had used a second table to keep the door closed.  It would be of little use, Rivlo knew.  The blades of the enemies were held by strong arms and were capable of breaking down doors in just a few hits.  Even if they were somehow thwarted by the table, it was probable that they would produce some kind of fire-wreathed weapon to set the house ablaze.  He could already smell the smoke of other homes that had met such a fate.

He ignored the whispered demands of his parents to join them beneath the table, and he peered out his window at a tavern off to the right.  The sound of shouting came from within the building; it was a mixture of garbled voices, and he could not make out a single word.  There was a woman, or maybe it was just a girl, protesting and arguing and threatening.  The voices--belonging to the evil creatures, no doubt--retorted with must have been jeering and teasing.  He did not know what the girl was saying, but in her voice was a fiery courage that filled him with strength.  If he did not know any better, he would say that her voice was laced with magic, like one of those sorceresses he had heard about in the old stories.  Or maybe she was just that brave.

The loud bang at the front door knocked him free of his trance.  The beasts had reached his house at last.  In half a minute they would wreck through the living room, and a few seconds later they would be outside the bedroom door.  He looked across the room at his family, and the terror filled him again, a terror that should have driven him over the floorboards and into his mother's arms.  But he had gone from a trance to a stasis.  If he made even the slightest move, a floorboard could creak and alert the creatures to his location.  He felt ashamed.  If only he had possessed the courage of that girl in the tavern.  If only he could rush out into the living room and bark out orders for his foes to turn away and find someone else to bother.  But his fear was reaching his limit, and he knew he could do nothing.  He would just remain where he was, and he would be quiet, and he would not even breathe, and he would pray for his family to be spared from the toll of the numbered dead.

It was a series of bangs, now.  They were kicking and striking the door.  He was not a fighter.  His father was a good man but could wield nothing besides a pitchfork.  His mother was stout but not prepared to defend her family from a troop of deadly animals.  There would be no hope for them if the enemies made it inside.  Was this the last time he would see his family alive? Would his bloodline be ended in a matter of seconds? Had he already taken his final breath?

There was an explosion outside, and he risked making a turn to see what had happened.  It was the tavern.  Something had smashed into one corner of the building, spraying wood and bricks everywhere.  Time did not stand still the way people often described it, but what had once been a successful business almost instantly became a ruin.  As the dust settled, he could see a young woman--who had probably been standing inside the other half of the building--rushing with all possible speed over the pile of rubble.  He had seen her around town before but could not remember her name; she was the daughter of the odd woman whom everyone gossiped about, a fair girl with freckles and dirty-blonde hair.  She had made it to the end of the rubble pile when one of the fiends revealed himself not twenty feet behind her.  His head could be seen poking out above the dust and smoke, and his eyes were facing her back.  Then Rivlo saw the creature pull out a bow and nock an arrow.  The girl turned toward her foe, slowly.  She may have been the one speaking and arguing confidently earlier, but now there was a sorrow, a defeat in her eyes.  She knew what all the villagers had come to know: that there was no chance for mercy, that conversation was out of the question, and that death was the only possible outcome.

A young man no older than the girl suddenly dashed into view, his footfalls upon the grass so quiet that he remained hidden from all but the girl and Rivlo.  In half a second a bow was in his hands, and he aimed it not at the girl but at the creature.  Rivlo was not sure how the boy planned on taking down his target.  There was still a haze of dust and smoke, and there was the sound of townspeople screaming and the din of collapsing homes and the pat-pat of heavy boots swarming the ground nearby.  He would be amazed if even a trained soldier could focus in such chaos.  But before the fiend could fell the girl, the boy released an arrow between two leaning pieces of wall, through the dust, and into the head of his enemy.  The force of the strike knocked the creature to the side, causing its arrow to fire uselessly into a wall to the girl's left.

The group of fiends that had very likely been another kick or two from downing Rivlo's front door headed toward the commotion.  What they encountered were not two frightened teenagers, but two warriors prepared to defend their town.  The girl lifted a sword from a corpse and used it to slay two of the approaching enemies, and the boy dropped the third with another arrow.

It was a long time before Rivlo learned the names of the two warriors who had saved his life.  It was due to their efforts that he and his family were among the few survivors of the Attack on Armus Village.