EAT! LAINA LUDWIG

The leader gave a roar as he charged the Coanian, his partners following in his footsteps. The dirt road crunched under the Coanian’s feet, his blades an arc of moonlight.

Metal sparked, and with a swing of his knife, another man fell. The Traveler saw his blood on the ground before he felt it, his knife arm screaming in pain. Another hit to his back, the gash deep, searing in pain.

Cold, the next strike was so bitter cold, again, across his back, his skin freezing on contact.

He stumbled, and rolled, standing back up at the ready, his two opponents ahead of him.

The Coanian closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Energy flowed. The smell of a thunderstorm filled the air. The Coanian launched forward with a boom of thunder, electricity arcing between the hilt and point of his sickle-like knife. His opponent was lucky, he was able to dodge, but he wouldn’t be able to dodge what was coming.

With a flick of his sword, lightning arced through the bandit’s body, and into the tree behind him, exploding with the roar of a dragon.

“We can end this now,” the Coanian called, lowering his weapons, but not his guard.

“Yes, I will.” The bandit leader rushed forward, his twin swords coming down in a cross, sending a wave of ice, each tip as sharp as a spear.

This shot had to be perfect. Miss the ice, die by the sword. Miss the sword, die by the ice.

The Coanian inhaled once. He aimed his sword, directing the lightning, feeling the energy flow through him. He raised the crescent-knife, electricity arcing once more.

Ice shattered in light and the bandit fell with the thunder. The Coanian sheathed his weapons, and turned to examine the town. The fire was spreading to the other trees and wooden structures around town.

He bowed his head. There was nothing he could do, and he knew all too well that they wouldn’t want his help. But he would still offer it.

He ran towards the nearest townsfolk, fighting the blaze. “Please, tell me what I can do to help.”

“Leave,” one man shouted, his hand resting on his dagger. “And don’t come back.”

The Coanian nodded, and stepped away from the burning wreck. He turned back down the street and saw Vanya, standing there.

He turned away, and left the way he came, remembering the heat of the fire on his face, the sting from his wounds, the ice on his back, and the sound of bodies hitting the dirt.