Charon’s eyes widened as orange orbs rained from the heavens ’More missiles? Already?’ He dove to the ground, hoping none would land near him. The screams of other citizens far away were drowned out as dozens of explosions erupted, sending dirt and rocks in every direction. A wave of heat blasted his face as he tried desperately to cover himself, praying to all the gods to help him survive the attack. Charon took deep gulps of air as the seconds passed. With each moment, the temperature dropped, slowly returning to normal. Looking up, he saw the mushroom clouds dissipate into the wind. The staccato rhythm of laser fire returned, the Elvish and Human forces having begun their clash only a few miles behind Charon. ’If I was any slower, I might’ve been caught in the crossfire.’ Once he felt his strength return, he threw himself to his feet and continued running, hoping to get to the village outskirts before the infantry pushed in. The concrete street wound towards the village center, street lamps and glass buildings flanking him to either side. Dust and debris dotted the path, slowing him down and causing his worries to mount. ’Why did I choose today of all days to explore outside the town? I would’ve had more time to escape!’ He knew it wasn’t really his fault. The Elves had cloaked their approach for days, using advanced magic and equally advanced technology to hide from their radars. If not for a routine military drill just happening to be in the area, they would’ve all been killed in the night. As it stood, most civilians had time to escape, except those who weren’t in town when the warning was broadcast. People like Charon. ’I just hope Roger and Davos made it out. They should’ve, they were supposed to help the Mistress with work today.’ He had been feeling guilty about not taking them with him. They usually went everywhere together, yet he had snuck out early in the morning, hoping to explore alone for once. The crumbling of a steel building snapped him out of his worries. The supports had been destroyed by the missiles, causing it to tilt precariously. ’My friends should be fine, I need to focus on myself right now!’ Large beams of crafted metal twisted and bent unnaturally, careening over to the side and blocking off one of the side roads Charon had known all his life. Ignoring the distraction, he pumped his legs as hard as he could, his lagging muscles screaming in protest. A loud bestial screech drew his eyes upwards. Red wings covered the sky as a bird the size of a building descended. Flecks of gold danced along its slender body, shimmering in the afternoon sunlight. Trails of fire poured from its feathers, growing more intense as it began to hover with a few quick beats of its wings, spreading the flames across the entire town. In any other situation, Charon might have admired the beauty of a Phoenix, but he knew no human could be riding it. It was an Elvish beast of war. Throwing himself through a window to avoid the burning rain, he cried out as his shoulder broke through solid glass. Long shards lodged themselves into his arm, causing blood to trickle down and pool on the stone floor. Gritting his teeth, Charon shakily rose to his feet and leaned against the wall, looking out the window at the sea of flames raging in the street. ’Gods above, what do I do now? They don’t teach these things in school!’ As if summoned by his thoughts, a wave of darkness shot down the paved road, banishing the fire and leaving a chill in its wake. Charon watched with wide eyes, recognizing the act as magic. Even with his little experience on the subject, everyone had heard the stories about the mages granted abilities by the gods. He only wished he could have experienced it in a safer environment. ’Why am I stopping? The streets are clear, I need to keep moving! If I keep moving, I’ll survive! All I need to do is make it out the window while avoiding the shattered glass, run down the streets while dodging missiles and fire, and then find the other citizens before the Elves find me.’ He paused to release a tense breath. ’Super easy. Just like any other day.’ Climbing through the window, he spared only a moment to glance at the sky again. Black chains hung in the air, wrapping around the Phoenix as it furiously fought to break free. Waves of heat rolled off the beast, turning the links into a liquid and causing it to drip down like tar. Turning back to the street, he only vaguely acknowledged the fact that the chains led toward his destination. Minutes passed as he grew closer and closer to the outskirts, the sounds of battle only growing closer as the Phoenix battled the mysterious mage fighting him. Charon was forced to dive, roll, and jump numerous times to escape the rampage, each action resulting in more cuts and bruises. His pace slowed as his body began to shut down, his injuries growing too severe. He began panting from the exhaustion, his eyes growing dimmer and his gaze unfocused. Charon barely noticed he was finally near the outskirts, only a few more buildings left. Their tall forms looked sinister as they reflected the fires raging all around them. Pieces of debris dotted the area, shattered glass and broken beams crisscrossing the road as if to create a jungle of modern engineering. The crash of a heavy object behind him jarred him back to the present. Spinning around, his eyes widened with terror as he saw the body of the Phoenix lodged into the side of what was once the local pharmacy. With the screech of bending metal, the colossal beast tore itself free, red feathers falling to the ground around it. Trails of blood led down its chest, marring the golden flecks that had made it look so radiant. The bird extended its limbs, showcasing wings twice as wide as a man is tall. A rider armored in ruby-red plate mail sat atop the monster, his face covered by a sleek face plate. In his hands were a pair of white reins that wrapped around the beast’s underside, allowing him to steer it. ’Who... who is that?’ Charon’s confusion was cut short as the emotionless head snapped to face him. Almost immediately he felt his skin begin to sweat, both out of fear and the rising temperature. Before he could react, the man outstretched his hand, unleashing a torrent of fire. Charon covered himself with his arms as he crouched down, hoping that the flames would miss him through some act of mercy. Instead, a wave of dark energy slammed into his back, throwing him forward while simultaneously banishing the attack. His arms scraped along the concrete, cutting nasty gashes into his flesh. Crying out in pain, he dragged himself up just in time to see a dark-robed man land a few feet away, his hands outstretched as malevolent energies coiled around his arms. The Phoenix and its rider slowly lumbered closer, barely a dozen yards away. Every step brought Charon’s attention to the wide open street that stood between them and another wave of heat. Without turning to face him, the man spoke, his booming voice somehow coming out louder than the sound of battle. "Go now! Run before he attacks again!" As if the command refueled his aching limbs, Charon found himself back on his feet and moving away from the battle with haste. ’Thank you, mysterious mage!’ The clash resumed behind him as the roaring of flames met a dark and mysterious force, hot and cold alternating dominance. The cry of the Phoenix slowly grew louder before disappearing entirely, replaced with a furious onslaught of burning waves. Out of a mix of curiosity and fear, he spared a quick glance over his shoulder to see how the mage was fairing. The dark mage was on his knees with the red-armored villain approaching. The Phoenix was on its side, barbed chains coiled around its flesh while its beak opened and closed to release low whines. Unable to look away, he slowed his pace as the knight removed his helmet, revealing a scarred and disfigured face. Narrow features and pointed ears quickly revealed him as an Elf. Charon stopped as he fully turned to watch, his survival instincts strangely muted. With baited breath he saw the Elf begin to speak, his words too quiet to understand yet the derision with which they were spoken clear from the smirk on his lips. ’He’s going to die! Is it because he tried to save me?’ A sense of guilt overcame him, the lessons the Mistress had taught him warring with his biological drive to escape while he could. She had spent years telling him stories of daring conquerors, courageous kings, and warriors who never backed down in the face of insurmountable odds. They all stood their ground and fought, even if it cost them their lives. What was greater than their courage was the glory they won, the treasures they earned, and the legacy they built, all stemming from their single decision to struggle against the inevitable. Closing his eyes, Charon gritted his teeth as he thought about what she would have said if she were here with him. A memory from years prior suddenly overtook him. Charon felt himself staring at a spider crawling along the floor. It looked to be the size of a dinner plate, possibly larger. Their caretaker, the Mistress, playfully swatted him on his shoulder as Charon quivered, the bug spray held out just as far as he could, yet he lacked the courage to face the arachnid and kill it. Her sweet voice tinged with the burden of age croaked out, admonishing him. "We do not hesitate in the face of danger, Charon. Would Aralin the Daring hesitate?" Sparing a glance at the spider, he shivered, but refused to look away, finally ready to end the beast’s life. "No, Mistress, he would not." She just smiled and tutted, walking away to tend to the others. As fast as it came, the memory vanished, leaving with it only a dull ache and the lesson she had tried to teach him. Screaming out his frustrations, Charon felt himself beginning to run again, a single phrase repeating in his head time and time again before he began speaking it aloud. "Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it all!" As he approached, he saw the man draw a golden-plated pole from his back, bringing it down to the ground and clicking a button to ignite the orange blade. ’A power spear!’ He had seen them being used during military training exercises, but none of those had been as impressive as this one. The edge of the blade almost looked real despite being completely made from pressurized energy. It extended a full foot above the pole, curving menacingly. Even from this distance, he could hear the thrum of electricity fueling the weapon. The gap was closed as Charon hugged the shoulder of the street, jumping and ducking under the pieces of torn metal and lifted stones. Just as the power spear was raised in the air, Charon veered back into the open, crashing into the Elf with his full body weight. His strike landed true, throwing the man back and giving the mage a few precious seconds. Managing to maintain his balance, Charon had just enough time to look up before a gauntleted hand backhanded him away, followed by the sound of a grating, distorted voice. "Begone, inferior being." This time it was Charon’s head that hit the ground first, his vision dancing as he rolled before unvoluntarily lurching up to vomit. He emptied his stomach, his eyes turning upward to see his attacker approaching. The power spear hung to his side, swaying carelessly as if he knew Charon was of no real consequence. Without any further warning, a burst of dark energy shot toward the Elf, his body shooting off to bounce along the stones with a series of metallic bangs. Unable to turn his head and look at what had caused it, Charon barely registered himself being yanked to his feet. The dark mage moved into view, his eyes full of anger and rage. Or one of them, at least. The other one looked to be crafted out of metal, glowing a soft blue from the lights hidden within. The rings of the iris spun rapidly, the advanced technology calculating a million probabilities. "Why would you come back, boy? You could’ve escaped! I helped you so you could escape!" Although Charon opened his mouth to respond, only garbled noises came out, his tongue refusing to obey him. Shaking him out of frustration, his savior just turned his head skyward and cursed loudly. "Curse you, boy! Now you force me to annoy my god! For all that you treasure, you better not fail me!" With movements faster than the eye could see, the mage summoned a dagger made of onyx and jerked his glove off. He brought it down and cut a deep furrow in his palm, hissing with the pain. Blood began to spurt out as he chanted in a language Charon couldn’t understand. Whether that was due to a lack of education or just the brain trauma, he didn’t know. As he spoke, the blood began to turn black and thicken into a sludge, before smoking and vanishing into the air. Without any warning, the mage then grabbed Charon’s arm and yanked his hand out, thrusting the knife cleanly through the flesh. Opening his mouth to scream, it was clamped shut by the dark mage’s other hand, his pain only able to be expressed by his tearing eyes. "Feel it boy, and feel it good! You weren’t supposed to suffer this today, but then you had to get involved! Every day of terror, every day of torture, every day of grueling war you experience will stem from now!" Charon’s blood also began to turn black and thicken. The mage looked down and winced slightly, his grip softening with his tone. "But you will get to experience those days regardless. That is the only thing I can give you now. I may die here today, but you will live." Charon began feeling himself lose substance, his mind racing a thousand miles a minute as he struggled with the growing sensation of nothingness. ’Is this supposed to happen? Am I dying? Is this the end for me?’ Part of his mind told him to accept it, to let himself fade away from the misery, but the rest of him refused to agree, warring violently against the oblivion inching towards him. "Good luck, boy. You will need it more than I do." Then it all went black.