Dragonieth 4 Corin's

The square courtyard, which once held popular merchant cares and crowds of locals bartering for wares or idling with gossip, was a far cry. Goods were trampled into the ground, carts splintered and broken to block paths ahead. The surrounding mud-brick houses were smashed in, foundations turned to charcoal and crumbling down or smouldering with spent fire. The place was void of people, but tell-tale signs of white ash blew about the ground of where some bodies once laid.

The smithy still stood upright, but the front door was torn off its hinges and cast aside to an unknown location.

He raced inside calling out the name of his lover. The black anvil she used regularly was dumped to the ground. Iron pokers and work tools were broken and scattered about the ground.

"Cor...in?" An elderly voice croaked from a corner.

Corin searched for the voice and saw his lover's father bleeding out on the ground, behind a set of tall cauldrons.

"Avorond!" Corin said the man's name as he knelt down next to him.

"Hannah." Avorond swallowed back some blood, forcing himself to speak.

Corin held on to the man's outstretched hand.

"Oligarch's men take her."

Avorond struggled about the ground to try to sit up, but his wound to his stomach was keeping him down. Life was draining quickly from his body. It was only a matter of time he would find himself before the Ferryman before the Gates of Av'lon. There was one last duty to his people he must do.

"Protect this with your life." Avorond fished through the secret pocket to his chest and pulled out a small pouch attached to a leather chain. "You hold our future now."

Corin sighed with remorse. He closed Avorond's lifeless eyes and said a blessing prayer the man could take with him to the afterlife. The man's body glowed white and softened into ash.

Corin gripped the pouch tight. He fastened the chain to his neck and hid the pouch underneath his white cotton s.h.i.+rt.

"Gruag dubh." He soberly voiced the spell that turned his short blond hair to black and eyes from blue to black.

Secret powers of the Dragonieth was triggered, pumping through his veins to boister his limbs with fortified muscle strength and his voice smooth as a siren's.

He raced out of the destroyed smithy, cutting down Vorn soldiers with his dual short swords like scything through tall poppies. Bathing the mud paths of his village with white-red corpses. His primal need to avenge rekindled his dragonieth magic on every attack, but it was taking over his self-will and control. Corin was becoming a killing machine with no intelligence.

The remaining Vorn and lesser creatures, retreated from the burning village with all their might. Some falling victim to Corin's blind rage.

"No! Corin!" Darick's voice cried with realization upon seeing the state of his brother who had hacked a path through a burning building to reach them.

"Stand back Darick." Alroy warned him.

"Dragonieth Sàmhach!" He whispered with all the love he felt for his son in his heart.

Soothing warm winds swept through the air, calming the tension and uncontrollable emotions. The night eased into a heavy silence.
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Corin dropped to his knees. His body suddenly weak and trembling uncontrollably. He collapsed to the ground. The sound of his brother's cries fading out with his vision.