The sounds of explosions continued outside, followed by the thunderous echoing of debris falling from the sky. All of it was background in Godric's mind, though, as he rushed to his father's side. The three other townsmen had already left to check on what was going on and the drunken Blue Guards were in varying states of standing, lumbering, and tumbling out the door, all clinging to their aching heads.
Godric ran to his father's side where he still lie in the wreck of the table. The older man's eyes drooped wearily, even though none of his injuries appeared serious.
"Father! Father, are you okay?"
The older man smiled kindly, but soon flinched in pain. "Aye, I will be okay." His eyes widened suddenly. "But you... You must go. Now, Godric! Run!"
The boy shook his head vehemently. "No! What are talking about? Why would I go?"
His father shook his head as much as he could, but he seemed to be in excruciating pain, despite his apparent lack of wounds. "There is no time to explain. I had hoped it would not come to this, but I'm afraid it is worse than I had thought. Go!" His eyes were wide with terror, but suddenly stopped frantically. "No, wait!" He moved his hands clumsily to his belt where his sword was buckled. "Here, you'll need this."
Tears stung at Godric's eyes as his father forced the sword into his hands with significant difficulty. Everything was happening so suddenly. What was going on? Why would he need a sword?
"Father, I'm not leaving you."
The old man smiled. "You always were a loyal boy. Stay strong, son. Take my dagger, it's over in the corner under the bar table. I am sorry there is not more that I can leave you with, but you must go now."
Godric gaped, but his father pushed him away with all the feeble might left in his arms. Slowly the boy stood and tripped over to where his father's dagger lie under the table. Quickly, he drew it and pushed it into his belt before buckling the sword to his side. He looked back at where his father lay one last time before ducking out into the darkness of midnight that had settled over the village of Dunn.
The sight that beheld him took his breath away.
What remained of the Town Square was a charred wreck of rumble. Fires burned as far as the eye could see; even the tops of the stone buildings crackled with hungry flame. There was no sign of anyone living or dead, only charred ruins in what had been only hours before a bustling village.
Godric tried desperately to get his head about him and find out what was going on, but, as he stumbled away from the tavern, a column of fire erupted through the night sky. All at once it was like the sun had been re-lit in the night sky and heat and light filled Godric's senses. With an earthshaking explosion the fire slammed into the tavern which exploded into a storm of broken stone and burning wood. A wave of heat blasted him off his feet, launching him into the harsh cobblestone.
The boy screamed in confusion and reeled into what was left of the Square as a ear-shattering screech filled the night. The sound was like a thousand blades being drawn across stone but magnified a hundred fold. Another column of fire flared through the dark, setting the very stone on fire. He clamped his hands over his ears and ran blindly with only the vaguest concept of where he was going. Tumultuous winds shook the ground, mixing with the hungry flames that contorted like a living nightmare.
Finally coming to the southwest break in the wall, or, rather, what was left of it, Godric ran into the blinding darkness outside the village. After several minutes he collapsed and looked back on the crackling ruins of Dunn.
My home. My father.
His head bowed and the tears that he had been holding back finally came gushing out like an undammed river. He lay down in the grass and let the darkness swallow him, blocking out the screams that seemed to come from the darkness itself and the hungry fire that had engulfed everything he had ever known. At last the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness enveloped him and he drifted into sleep.