"Damned heretics!"
That was the first word he heard as he sprang up from his bed, his heart beating wildly as beads of sweat rolled down his supple, delicate face. Gripped by fear, he wrapped himself in his fur coat and knelt on the floor, trembling.
'What the hell is happening?'
Trying to fight through the fear, he slowly got up, his entire body shaking uncontrollably as his eyes darted around the dark room. He couldn't see anything… nothing… no one.
And just as he finally stood up…
*Bang!*
The Earth rumbled as his room shuddered, and he went tumbling to the floor, crashing his head against the bed. He groaned in pain, desperately trying to get a hold of himself, but nothing worked.
His hand slipped from the edge of the bed, the earth quaking once more as the entire house suddenly flipped over, sending him crashing to what would supposedly be his death.
But before that could happen, a torch flashed, dim orange lights illuminating the dark room, and then he felt someone grab his hand. They crashed through the wall of the building, and we went tumbling on the ground, finally free of its confines.
He squinted his eyes, gripping his chest as he gazed up…
The sky—he could finally see the clear blue sky!
"Nuel?"
He mumbled, slowly getting up from the ground.
But no one answered him…
His eyes began to move around him, and then he froze, his body shaking even worse than it had earlier—for before him lay perhaps the worst sight of his entire life.
"This… This can't be."
For before him lay a ruin of crumbled buildings, blood, corpses, and raging flames, and in the midst of all the destruction was nothing but silence—dreadful, maddening silence.
"I-Impossible… How…"
His mumble came out muffled and stunted, and tears began rolling down his face as he quickly got up from the ground and staggered forward. He rushed over to the first body he saw.
It was a young man, probably in his late twenties, his face smeared with blood, and across his left cheek was a single deep cut. With his face contorted in horror, he looked down at the man's hand.
His entire finger was missing, cut cleanly from the base, and right next to the man's dead body lay a broken, austere blade.
"Mr. Manfred… Mr. Manfred, please… wake up!"
He sobbed, quickly placed his hands on the man's chest, and began to shake him violently. But even he knew that it was pointless; his body had long since gone cold.
Pushing himself up from the ground, he rushed to the next closest bloodied corpse he could find, each being in a state only slightly better or worse than the previous
And after running around for over thirty minutes, he hadn't managed to find a single survivor.
They were all dead… The entire village was gone.
Staggering forward as he glanced around at the massacre once more, he fell to his knees and clawed at his face, ripping off the flesh from his delicate skin. He wailed as he lay helplessly on the ground, eventually losing track of time.
His mind was clouded and foggy, his gaze blurry from the blood that hung around his eyelids, and his heart heavy with turmoil. He wanted the suffering… He wanted it all to end.
"Wh-what ha-happened… to everyone?"
"Why did every one of you have to go and die?"
"Who did this?"
For a while longer, he knelt, mumbling to himself, unable to come to terms with his new reality, but then he suddenly stopped, turning slightly to look at the burning ruins once more.
His eyes slightly widened as he mumbled…
"Nuel… That's right… he saved me."
His friend, the first person he had thought of after being saved from the dark confines of his room, was nowhere to be seen.
"Could he be… alive?"
He could feel a new… feeling wash over him… Was it relief, or perhaps hope? Maybe it was just him deluding himself, clinging to an illusionary hope he had thought of in his moment of peril.
But whatever it was, he just wanted to know one last thing: the fate of his very good friend.
Barely able to walk, he staggered out of the village premises, gazing around in hopes that he would find traces of his friend. Without a single clue to follow, he continued forward, clinging to wounded hope.
Soon, he found himself in the middle of the woods, kneeling in front of a clear blue stream. The water was sparkling, beautifully reflecting his flawless pale skin, straightened red hair, and ruby eyes, and by the sides of his face were marks from his fingers. He was a young lad, barely seventeen.
After staring at his reflection in the water for a while, he stood up and slowly continued forward, carefully moving through the narrow paths created by the large trees in the area.
And then…
Just as he took another step forward, he felt a searing pain go through his left shoulder, prompting him to fall to his knees as he instantly gripped the wound. And that was when he saw it: his eyes shifted with a clear, dreadful expression on his face.
Lodged deep into his shoulder was an arrow, and standing just a few meters away from him, clad in an archaic white cuirass, an arrow neatly nocked against her bow... one that was aimed at him.
Her mouth twitched as their gazes met, and then she said a few words just loud enough for him to hear.
"Damned heretic."
Before he could even begin to mentally process what had just happened, she released the arrow, and it went flying straight toward him. It was too fast for him to react, and all he could do was watch as the arrow pierced deep into his chest.
He yelped as he grabbed the body of the arrow, his entire body trembling in pain as he crouched and lowered his head to the ground. His shoulder still ached, but the hole in his chest was like nothing he had felt before.
Gritting his teeth and trying his best to endure the pain, he sprang up and staggered to the opposite side, moving as fast as he could.
Once again, another arrow shot forward, piercing into the side of his abdomen and causing him to tumble down a hill, finally out of the archer's sight. He gripped his wounded chest and hissed, still gritting his teeth in a bid to endure the pain.
"She's… Is she trying to torture me?"
Mumbling, he slowly pushed himself up from the sloped ground and continued to stagger forward, the sound of soldiers marching toward him becoming clearer with each step he took.
He coughed and strained; his voice was hoarse and riddled with pain.
"Nuel… I need to find Nuel."
"Ptui."
He spat out some blood and slowly looked up into the distance, a massive dark gulf with steep rocky walls plunging into shadows that appeared within his view, its edges jagged and rough.
He edged closer, not daring to look back as the sound of marching footsteps drew closer, and with what little strength he had left in him, he was finally able to make it to the edge of the chasm.
Drawing one last breath, he turned around and gazed at the soldiers swiftly marching toward him, all dressed in pristine white armor, and then something else caught his gaze.
It was a white sunburst symbol on their cuirass with an angular design, signifying purity and divine light. A muffled and pained laugh escaped from his lips as he took a step back.
"Curse you… Ligh..."
Those were his last words as he plunged into the darkness below.