I saw everyone running. It was not fair! We were only beginning to be more than a secret society. People recognized us not with fear but with something akin to respect. The priests had reconciled—the discipline priests and the dark priests were beginning to work together. I led my discipline priests while one of my first students managed an offensive group, so powerful in attack that no normal enemy could face them. And now we ran, like rabbits. The enemy was deadly.
I pulled the remaining children out. Here, we made no distinctions. I saw some belongings scattered on the floor—wooden toys and stuffed animals, remnants of a childhood they refused to abandon. They were cursed children—their parents did not want someone with uncontrolled power; they did not want to die from a tantrum. So they imprisoned them, drowned them, or simply sold them. That was why the leader of the dark priests had bought as many as he could. When I discovered he was helped by powers close to evil, I wanted to stop him. But seeing that he had saved so many children, that he never forced them to be like him—only used his teachings on discipline priests who wanted more attack power—that was when we joined forces again. I trained them; those we saw had the ability, I sent to him. This was after our continent had changed so much.
An arrow flew toward the youngest children's house. I was not fast enough, and I saw it explode in flames. I tried to see the attackers, but there were thousands—their green and red robes. I knew they were there, but if I charged at them, I would die. So I reinforced my shield and went to see if anyone had managed to escape. These houses were from a village that was dying because all its inhabitants had traveled to the populous city of Rusty Axe. I had been summoned here just as the crisis ended. In these houses, I saw many refugees. My student was training everyone and planting with them, rebuilding with his bare hands. It was an image that filled me with pride. That was why I agreed to move from Stormhammer. The journey was long, but we all trained—all of us who remained. Now I saw staves scattered randomly. Several of my people had fallen defending. The Blackcaps were still fighting, but there had not been many to begin with. Moreover, the nature of their abilities weakened their bodies. I lashed as many sacred lashes as my concentration allowed, but it was not enough. Our attackers brought thousands of soldiers. Those of us who lived here, those about to graduate, did not even number two hundred. The rest were in the cities, spreading the word of a new way of being priests.
As I reached the village's outer edge, I saw the attackers were eliminating everyone. My most powerful subordinates attacked head-on. I saw them fall, then they cut off their heads and put them on spikes. Thus they kept advancing. Their war chants began to echo in the night with flames:
"Heretics who reject the goddess Fiery!
She who lies in the world's volcanoes.
Heretics who reject her mark.
Oh goddess, give us the power to incinerate!
Blasphemers who inhabit the Promised Land.
Die, you who do not believe in her figure.
May they die by your flames.
May their ashes carpet our path.
The children of Volcania greet you.
They come to exterminate your enemies!"
Who the hell were the so-called children of Volcania? They were not from this continent! I had never heard of them! The worst part was that my student was on a trip with his students to learn in the Dark City, Midnight Raven. It was too far for us to survive. Those chants kept echoing, and now an enormous figure—a being of six arms—was launching fire at the houses in the center of the city. It was a divine manifestation! I knew of no one who could achieve something like that. Were we doomed? No! I had to take these children to Midnight Raven. They were innocent and did not deserve a stupid death. I created shield after shield, all ahead of me. Sweat soaked my clothes—it was very difficult. Every so often, arrows hit them. Yet we had almost all reached the forest. The few surviving priests would take them. I almost relaxed, but something enormous came from the sky. It was like a head—something triggered my alarms. I placed as many defenses as I could. The impact was brutal. I did not know what attacked us, but I was on the ground before I could consider what had happened. The physical impact should not have been enough—it should have exploded upon impact. How fearsome these people were!
It took me a few minutes to get up. I saw with relief that no one remained in the village. We had been busy—so much that we had not named all these houses. It did not matter. I called them home. I did not think I had the strength to reach them. The irony was that I was still young. I still wished I could return to cry in my straw bed while my mother cooked something to lift my spirits. But it could not be. I would die for what I had lived—discipline, strength of spirit—everything I needed so the children could hide.
Boots stepped near where I lay. Arms clad in black lifted me. I thought it was my student—a miraculous return. But no, it was his students—all frowning, clad as always with their weapons. That was where we discipline priests failed—always using wooden staves, only as agricultural tools. They had theirs engraved with metallic runes. Their eyes seemed to glow. There were ten; two lifted me. The one at the front smiled. He was one of my student's advanced students—he would always be my student to me. He told me to go with the rest. I wanted to tell them we could flee together, but he interrupted me. They needed discipline, they said. They had to travel far and hide. Only a handful of their own had survived—dark priests. When I asked about them, they said only those I saw remained, but they would go out with a bang. So as they dragged me, I could see six of them release the Nightmare enchantment, which blocked vision and perhaps made them see some of the pain inflicted here. I wanted to insist they come with us, but I saw all of them plant their staves at the back of the one who had spoken to me—I thought his name was Jerome. I felt his power flow. I had never seen anyone require so much power for any invocation I knew, but this one I did not know. Explosion sounded as intense as a mouse in a hurricane.
The magic sphere grew in the center of the city, sweeping away everything and everyone who had already entered. It was terrible. I did not think they could maintain it for long. But it was not necessary. Jerome fell to the ground like a dead log. The two who had helped me began to drag me. I tried to tell the seven remaining to come, but they looked at me, and blood tears ran down their faces. They maintained Jerome's magical field so we could escape. They would maintain it until they died of exhaustion... So I let myself be dragged to where everyone was. I had a mission like them, but I had not been so brave. I had not believed anyone could be.