The Shepherds of Fire

An unfamiliar boom rang through miles of woods, attracting the attention of people from a nearby village. The village was small, and hastily made. It's residents appeared worn and afraid. A short wall of trees that had been cut and shaped into spikes surrounded the village, and makeshift fencing filled the gaps. Their huts were mostly thrown together, and a subtle clinging of metal on metal could be heard from one. A few men patrolled in different groups, trudging along as if their watch never ends.

At first the villagers had chosen to ignore the noise, sure it was another horror, but after the next few booms they gathered torches and sent some scouts out to investigate. After surviving as long as they had, the villagers were all physically fit and made quick pace in the thin woods near the field. Navigating the forests were difficult even with torches. The booms continued to ring out, guiding their way, louder and louder. The men moved quickly, knowing beasts would be drawn just as quickly as they were. Soon they could see the flash as the boom happened.

They rushed forward seeing that whatever created the boom was attacking a beast. It was then they heard what they believed could be the screams of a man ringing after each boom. They came close enough to see an arm holding a strange metal object, rather than point at the beast the man fired into the air. BOOM! The grass concealed the face and body of the man who used the strange weapon. Unsure the villagers pulled back momentarily, but began moving forward when the beast toppled onto the man and began feasting upon him. Sure the beast had killed the man they chose to avenge him, and attempt to collect the strange weapon. Charging forward with battle cries they fought the beast off the man by beating at it with their torches. They bashed and swung at the beast until it fell into the grass, recoiling from the flames. The creature began shrieking, it's mouths opening and emitting a horrifying noise. It shrieked and tried to crawl away from the assault. The beasts shrieks fell on deaf ears however, as one of the villagers forced a lit torch into one of the screaming mouths while others continued to beat the beast, every swing embedded flaming cloth into the beasts blackened flesh. Soon the beast was engulfed in flames and it's screams slowly died out.

"Sir, he's still breathing!"exclaimed a villager who knelt over the man.

The largest villager turned to one that had checked on the injured man. "Gather the weapon, tie him up. This, thing," he said gesturing to The Operator. " May have strange weapons but we have no way to know if he will change. We will carry him." Turning back to the ones watching the beast shrivel up and burn away he shouted "Gather yourselves, we move soon!" They acknowledged his command by pulling unlit torches off their backs and lighting them in the still burning husk of the creature they had slain.

For checking the injured man's breathing the villager had been tasked with ensuring he was well tied up. "Even if we tie him up, if we don't just kill him he could kill us all!" he thought to himself reaching for the weapon he'd seen the man using. Grabbing it he pointed it at the man but couldn't figure out how to make it boom like he'd seen. Fear came over the village who put the weapon in a sack. "What if he is like The Blind One?" He shook with fear, raising his knife above his head. Preparing to finish the man off the villager gripped the hilt tight, but before he began his swing his hand was grabbed. "What do you think you're going to do with that? We don't kill anyone unless the show signs of turning!" Exclaimed the largest villager, who had just turned around after ordering the others to ready themselves. "He could be like The Blind One! We have to kill him! I tried to use his weapon but it didn't work!" Responded the man. "What did I say? Just because you don't understand something and can't use it doesn't mean you kill the people who use it. Put your weapon away!" Ordered the largest man.

The villagers embarked on their tedious journey carrying the man and his gear across the open field. The largest villager decided to look into the sack and examine the weapon. It was cold like their steel blades, and hard as them too. Unsure of what to make of the object he shoved it back in the sack. Every crunch hastened their steps, Their eyes shifting back and forth, their heads watching side to side. They were prepared for the ambush tactics of beasts. When it had all begun beasts roamed aimlessly, swallowing up any unfortunate soul they happened across. Now these creatures seemed to become intelligent almost, hiding on branches and waiting for something to consume. Fortunately they reached their small village and set their burning torches in their slots at the gate. "Take him to our healer" commanded the leader of the group.

The men carried The Operator into a small hut where a man cleared a table that had straps already installed. The grim look on all their faces showed they feared the table. Black blood stained the ground around their feet, and the wood on which the injured man was to be placed. They all watched hesitantly, weapons drawn as the straps were removed ,and The Operator transferred.

Though he didn't awake through the whole process of being moved and strapped back down he was just as uncomfortable. More flashes bombarded him. The flash made him feel as though he were slave scraping away at the side of the mountain. The man was new to wall, and working slowly was getting people whipped. Swinging his pickaxe into the wall over and over he was trying to carve out a large enough chunk for a brick. Heavy rain made this process difficult for any man, but the storm this night had been particularly deadly. Lightning had been striking consistently, and one bolt struck a thin peak jutting out above the men. The force cracked the rock and dropped massive chunks of gleaming marble down onto the men. Panicked screams were followed by the sound of rocks crushing the bones of the unfortunate men and soldiers under the peak. Those hit by shards were cut, and some were knocked down to the lower paths, awkwardly landing on wheelbarrows filled with stone chunks or tools. The man watching the events had survived the initial tragedy, but was trapped with a few other survivors near the top of path.

The Operator woke up slowly, groaning in pain. To his horror, his reality was no better than the man on a cliff. He'd survived, but now there were men surrounding him with torches and blades no. They wore clothes that resembled shepherds, with long unshaven beards. Their clothes were stained with blood and dirt. "Thank you." Said The Operator, laying his head back and hoping they understood. Surely his ribs were still broken, and being strapped down didn't boost his confidence. An old man approached the table. "These men risked their lives for you. If you turn, we will slay you. We have never seen things like yours. Where did you come from?" The elder probed. "I was attacked by a horrible monster, then we fell, and I woke up here." Responded The Operator surprised that they spoke his language. "Who are these men? They look like sheep herders, but they're bloody, covered in scars." He thought to himself.

"We fear we are the last of our kind young man. We were but shepherds, banded together by a plague that consumed every living thing, castles were consumed, No soldier or man stood a chance until we learned to use fire as our weapon." Said the elder, grabbing a torch one of the men had and putting it above The Operator's face. The Operator could see that the torch was more like a bat with spikes in it, wrapped in cloth that was burning. He was both impressed, and scared, as a bit of cloth burned free and fell on the table burning up rapidly. The old man handed the weapon back and stared at The Operator coldly.