Pyrus by Sean Watman Page A

shadow that concealed his face.
    â€œOh, I'm sorry,” I reply, stepping out of his way. Without a second glance, he resumes walking—almost as if I completely vanished from existence as soon as I moved. Talk about weird. I stared at him until he began to blend in with the other Pyrians. Then I remembered the money. The first thing I needed to do was find some clothes; I needed to blend in.
    I resume browsing through the many shops, searching for a clothes stall, but with no luck. There were food stalls, jewelry shops, even a toothpaste shop. What really bugged me was that when I asked for directions or help, the villagers didn't react but to move around me. With a sigh of frustration, I turned around and tried to find my way back, but the entrance was lost from view. I am stuck in a village, with no way out, and I don't even have a bloody map!
    All of the buildings and stalls looked the same to me. It was a stupid move to not leave a trail from the entrance. Then again, I wasn't expecting to be lost here. With another sigh, I faced forward again and began to walk. Not moving would not get me anywhere, and if I kept walking, I'd eventually find an exit. Just to make sure I didn't end up walking in a circle, I marked a spot on the road with an X made from some stones on the side of the road.
    As I began my trek, the traffic suddenly shifted. Pyrians were now walking in the opposite direction, rather fast, and right past me. It was as if they were running away from something.
    Unlike everyone else, I continued walking forward. My eyes met a very disturbing sight once I reached what seemed like the central plaza of the village. This labyrinth of streets was about to be ransacked by men riding on horse-like beasts.
    These horses were jet black with flaming green eyes and spiked hooves. These two creatures looked menacing, but they paled in comparison to their masters. These men were cloaked, just like everyone else, but their cloaks were as black as their horses’ skins. They wore steel gauntlets, and they each had two swords, one sheathed and on their backs, and the other sheathed by their hips. One of the men was holding a Pyrian, who was a dwarf in size by comparison, by the neck.
    â€œLeave him alone!” I yelled at the man, and I began to charge toward him. As I was nearing the conflict, a burning sensation overwhelmed me, and pain erupted from my heart. I collapsed onto the ground, clutching my chest. I had no idea what was happening to me. I had suddenly felt as if I was carrying four or five people on my back, and I couldn't bear the weight.
    As I was struggling to stand, my cloaked enemy dropped the Pyrian, who quickly scampered away, and turned his gaze toward me. The other one began to slowly walk toward me, gradually drawing his swords. As he drew them, they instantly burst aflame; it was as if the swords reacted to the air itself. I was paralyzed by the massive heat wave that overwhelmed me, and the men were coming closer, one small step at a time.
    By the time they reached me, I had finally started to regain control of my body, but by then it was too late to run. The only thing I could do was just stare up into my enemy's face and know who killed me. Alas, I was not even allowed that luxury, because even though I stared up into the hood, his face was still shrouded from view. On a normal occasion this would've bothered me, but this was no ordinary occasion. For some reason, this pissed me off a lot.
    Anger and rage were consuming me, but I had no idea why. Despite the fact that these men could hurt me severely, never before this point had I actually wanted to inflict real pain upon someone. This darkness inside me was corrupting my mind, and I couldn't contain it. The burning sensation in my heart flared again, but this time I was only aware of it, there was no ensuing shock or pain. The man who was now standing before me raised his sword, aiming for my neck, to decapitate me.
    As he swung his word,