The Forgotten Hero

VI - The Flames of War

Booted feet stomped towards him, but the other two figures moved to Liana.

Ignoring the sharp pain in his bandaged side and the throbbing headache from having suddenly awoken, Jerrim shot to his feet and raced to Liana. Before he could take a second step the first intruder was on him, a gauntleted hand grabbing his arm. Thick fingers squeezed his arm and threw him to the ground. The ground knocked the wind from Jerrim when he fell, but he tried desperately to raise his head and look to Liana, who was screaming now.

The towering intruder lifted his rifle to Jerrim's head, forcing him to stop all his movements.

In the dull light, he saw that the person wore a ridged helmet that covered his entire face, three rows of slits over his eye area and a long vertical slit down the centre of the metal helmet. Large rounded shoulder pads were studded with spikes, as were his large gauntlets. The rifle was a thick cylinder of mechanical parts, and looked heavier than anything Jerrim could pick up. The image was somewhat familiar to him, but he couldn't think where he would have seen or heard of such people.

One armoured man raced to the kitchen and surveyed the surrounding area in wide strides, while the other brought Liana to her feet, despite her struggles and protests. Jerrim almost smiled at the fire in her, even in their dire situation.

The first intruder said something to the others in an unrecognisable language. Before Jerrim knew what was happening, a flame erupted from the hand of one of Liana's captors. The glint of a metal ball could be seen in the flames as it flew from a gauntleted hand and ignited the boxes and trinkets around it. Sweltering heat enveloped the small hut, and Jerrim began to sweat, from the heat and from fear.

He was pulled to his feet and his helmeted captor brought him close. His eye slits only showed darkness.

A gruff, thickly accented voice said, "Where is Ellaison?"

Jerrim blinked back his surprise, not knowing what to say. Images of his fever dream came back to him­–Xylophia's worried expression and the images of war he had been shown–but his head was a hot mess of fear and confusion to make sense of anything.

A shiny object flew across the room and struck the intruder furthest from them. Sparks of electricity shot out and wrapped around him, causing him to convulse and drop to the ground, his body shaking even after the energy had dissipated.

When a new figure appeared, Jerrim knew straight away it was Elias.

The cloaked newcomer darted towards Liana's captor, his fists flying in rapid succession. His blows knocked the armoured man back, whose strikes missed the spinning old man. Their flickering shadows danced over the room as the flames grew around them.

When Jerrim's captor raised his rifle, Elias's cloaked form flew across the room. In a blur, Elias broke the rifle in two and knocked the intruder to the ground with a spinning kick.

Without pause he darted back to Liana's captor, spinning and striking several blows, before throwing both palms out and knocking the final intruder through the wall.

He turned to them both. Under his great hood, his face was flushed in the glow of the room.

"Come with me. Now." With that he stepped to the empty door frame.

Jerrim ignored the old man and rushed over to Liana, wanting to be sure she was unhurt. He laid a hand on her shoulder, though he could tell from her furrow-browed expression that she did not want his comfort at that moment.

"Come on," she breathed, little more than a whisper.

She curled an arm around his waist and put his arm over her shoulder. He told himself it was an emotionless act, just to get them both out of the hut before it burnt down.