Axiom ~12!

~ Twelve ~

The Elder knew something was off as soon as he resurfaced. A smell in the air… it was wrong. His first breath of what should have been crisp air, instead filled his tongue with the flavor of smoke. His hearing picked the muffled cries alongside the crackling whips of wildfire. Something was burning, falling… breaking. 

The crashing tear of wooden supports caused a puffy *scrumph* as the unstable home collapsing on itself hit the ground and oppressed the senses. It also ended several muffled cries. This experience turned what should have been a peaceful morning gaggle of hungover groans into tortured screams. 

The Elder had been the last to come back up through the stream, yet could not locate a trace of his young group through smoke so thick it forced his eyes to swell. The children had gone ahead of him, so the expectation was for them to be present when he resurfaced. A high-pitched screech cut through the rumbling ambient mess of fire-wrought sound. No. He knew that voice! “Lunella!” 

With significant effort he dragged his old bones from the stream and onto the dry bank, worming his way from the water with all the elegance of a landed fish. His lungs burned; nasty smoke clogging the thick air made it all the worse. It reminded him of times he’d rather never recall. 

It seemed that as much as he’d run away from conflict, strife with its endless reach had grasped him again. Life would not let him go silently into the night; it was here for the pound of flesh it was owed. Or rather, from the rebellious voices that were dragged further and further into the distance, that of his children! The surrounding blares of activity made it a nightmare to determine who was where. 

Accented foreign screams echoed from the Apiary as the crashing buzz of a destroyed hive split the air. A panic fueled cry screamed out, “Bees! Bees!” 

It wasn’t any adult voice the Elder recognized, so that confirmed outside forces were at play. Total howling disarray and fear sirened from uphill, so the Elder moved as fast as his feet would take him; which was admittedly rather pathetic and frustrating. He was useless like this! That his heart rate caused his hands to shake was nothing new, and old mantras chimed with military repetition in his mind.

Keep steady. 

Keep moving. 

Stay alive. 

His shambled pace brought him back to the pile of robes the children had ditched. Creeping wet cold still clung to his skin, and the cold-sickness was going to get his claws into him before his age did if he didn’t bundle up. So, on went the robes, while a sack was repurposed as an anti-smoke face mask; a trick picked up in a desert long ago. He looked ridiculous and couldn’t begin to care as his mind laid the foundations for action. 

The Elder couldn’t assess the threat. The amount of smoke meant the majority of the village was on fire, so this was a raid. His priorities in this battle boiled down to survival, and retrieval of the children. That second objective was going to be difficult in his current state if there was so much as a toothpick-armed weasel in his way. He’d told the kids to stay alive. With hope, they would cling to those words. That’s all he wanted them to do. 

Stay alive. 

Just stay alive. 

Anxiety was squashed under absolute need as he throttled his worry and self-doubt by the throat. A season to live? No, old man! A day was fine! One day was more than fine, so long as he could see the safety of the children! The clang of metal clashing with metal put a hearty and swift dent in the chances of that plan. Thieves were bad; thieves with weapons were worse. 

However, there wasn’t a sword in the village? The *clangs* repeatedly rang from the wood storage direction, but there wasn’t a… realization struck him like a brick. “Choppy’s axe!”

The Elder then crumpled inwards like a potato sack as a pain spread from his stomach. A slung rock had struck him at speed and taken the wind right out of him, forcing an unexpected *ooof*! The earthy slam to the ground wasn’t so bad, but it sure felt like it was. He remained there, unmoving. A crass voice called through the dense smoky haze that hung low. “Hah, got another one! That’s two hands for me in the lead!” 

The Elder held his stomach with both hands but couldn’t move, just gasping in air that came difficulty at a soundless wheeze. “Looks like that one’s not moving. I’m calling it dead, and a point for me!” 

The same crass voice then gained excitement as it spotted moving prey. “Are those runners?”

“Yes, they are! Let’s get ‘em!” After a murderous laugh, the thudding impact of several boots promptly vacated the location. The vibration was so heavy that the Elder could feel it through the ground he laid immobile on. This pattern of footfalls felt incredibly similar to the… to the thrumming they’d experienced while in the cavern!

“Abyss!” It took at least a full minute for his breath to even out, and he was forced to hear the community around him burn to ash. The syrupy coughing of people choking to death filled nearby homes, only to be silenced as the buildings burned and collapsed down on top of them. Anyone that wasn’t trying to run had attempted to hole up, and neither choice ended happily. 

The Elder barely got to his hands and knees as a pained whimper cried from the logging section. It sounded like Choppy was in severe pain; pain that he couldn’t understand. Infantile whimpers and sobbing bubbling cries told the old man there was liquid in the boy’s lungs. The familiar sensation of strained muscle twisted in the Elder’s legs as he got up and forced himself to move on. 

While he was certain an arrow whistled past his head at a certain point, he winced and ignored it. The old man found the woodchopper on his back with a face stained by pained tears. The Elder fell to his knees to support the lad, momentarily skidding to a halt. “I’m here Choppy. I’m here.” 

Firmly taking his calloused hands, the old man attempted to console his boy by being up close and personal. He could see the damage, and he knew the end was coming for this lad. A deep cut from the right shoulder raked down into the lung, but it hadn’t been shallow where it vitally mattered. There was going to be no recovering from an injury like this, not even if the big man found immediate attention. The remainder of the woodcutter’s short life was going to be agony.

The Elder knew Choppy wouldn’t bleed to death from this wound, he’d choke on his own blood first. A fate he wasn’t about to let the boy suffer. Choppy’s good arm held the Elder firm as needing, glossy eyes cried for help as the boy stammered begging words. “*Gllrblpain* Pain. *Glpain*. Hate pain. Pain.” 

This good boy had used his wood logging axe to fend off the invaders. A swift glance in either direction showed not one, but two split melon heads. For all the harsh times the village had given this big lad, he’d always been amazing with his aim. From the angle, the axe must have gotten stuck in a spine. It seemed to be protruding from the slain raider, but the Elder had no time for that now. He slid forwards and detested that he knew what to do. 

A familiar, practiced grasp firmly took hold of the suffering boy’s head, and the old man pushed a knee forward to press down on that wide chest. This was the kind of injury that left a man to suffer for as long as possible while still being fatal. Purest suffering until the final gurgling took the agony to a crescendo; finally coming to an undeserved end. 

“I know, my boy. I’m going to take the pain away, Choppy. I’m going to make it stop hurting now.” The old man needed to suck in a breath, tearfully ignoring the bite of the smoke. “Hold me tight my son. Hold me tight.” 

The Elder’s voice was trembling and his jaw was clenched shut. His eyes burned and wet streaks lined down his cheeks. He had to do this for a prized child once more. His breath quickened, and his dry mouth swallowed to cope. The good boy did what he was told to do, and clung tight. The psychological harm the Elder did to himself that next moment was unspeakable, as he shattered the happy illusion he’d built for himself over these many, many years. 

The physical exertion was just… a simple… 

*Snap*.