Chapter 42

The little girl led them out of the forest and to a small village that looked ruined and had been adbonned for quite some time. Houses missing doors, walls caved so you could practically drive a carriage through the holes in the walls and scarred with deep gashes and dried blood decorated the walls in gruesome displays. Roofs were falling apart and everything in the village seemed to be breaking down and falling apart.

Weeds and wild plants overtook the small village and…

Freya slapped a hand over her mouth.

"Oh my goodness, is that?..."

Yes, bodies of dead people littered the streets. The bodies of men, women and children of all ages were piled up everywhere: on the streets, inside homes, slumped up against walls and trees.

Worse of all, the bodies looked to be in a state of advanced decomposition and the smell of rotting flesh and death burned and assaulted Arya's nose. Assyrian was vomiting and getting sick and Ezekiel looked a little pale in the face right now. Granite was already puking his guts out. Freya had a stronger stomach than what her outer appearance would imply and she was crying and sobbing, shielding her face from the dead bodies. 

Arya saw some bones littering the ground everywhere and she hoped they were animal and not human but deep down she knew that they were most likely what was left of some of the victims.

The bodies they encountered had shown signs of being eaten and turned into food for the wild animals and Arya took a look up and saw the birds circling in the sky, attracted to his sad and ghost village by the smell of death.

There was this awful smell coming from the alley and it just kept getting worse and worse as they ventured deeper and deeper into the village. Arya now knew the smell came from the rotting bodies of the victims.

An attack happened here months or weeks ago and nobody came to save these villagers. The little girl and her brother were the only survivors-well, that girl might be the only survivor if they failed to save her dying brother.

Arya was far ahead of the group so she turned around to get a better look at them.

Freya was busy closing the eyes of the dead and paying respect to them. Assyrian, Ezekiel and Granite were doing the same: paying respect to the dead who died so brutally and tragically.

They didn't deserve this, they didn't deserve to die like sheep in a slaughterhouse, Arya thought. No one came to save them, they died like this and who knows how many more people will die like this?, Arya thought.

She stumbled across a dead body of a little boy who couldn't look any more than 6 or 7 years old. He looked like he had been dead for some time now as his body was already starting to decompose and rot. His dark hair was messy and long and his pale red eyes were blank and terrified. 

Arya gently knelt down and closed his eyes so he could finally get some rest. The dead should be respected. These people should have been given proper burials and not just left here to rot away and to become food for the wild animals. 

But now it was too late for a burial. Even if they wanted to bury the dead, there was nothing left of them but scraps of flesh, bone and clothing.

It was exactly the same way that she had seen it in the dreams.

They were here. They came, they saw, they killed.

The dreams-no, nightmares-she was having. They were real.

She saw a massacre of innocent men, women and children in that nightmare. Heard their screams and cries for help as if she was actually there with them and not in her bedroom in her mansion.

She thought that she was going crazy at first and having nightmares but now she began to think that these nightmares she was having were serving some sort of purpose.

It wasn't as if she was having these dreams herself but it felt more like she was able to…she didn't know how to describe it but her dreams allowed her to see things.

The little girl led them to a small house that had somehow miraculously survived the attack.

It was a cheery little house with its walls painted a bright white and it had a red roof.

A stone pathway led up to the door and other than some cracks to the wall and a door frame with no door, the house looked intact and in better condition than what Arya could say for the other houses in this sad village.

Inside the house, Arya saw dust everywhere and the house hadn't been cleaned in months now.

There was a small kitchen, a dinning area, a cheery little sitting area with two armchairs and a fireplace and two beds tucked into a corner of the house.

A small figure laid in one of the beds-It must be her brother, Arya thought- and the little girl rushed over to the bed.

"Owen!! I got help!!"

Owen looked to be in terrible shape. Blood stained the bed and the sheets red and the blood dripped onto the wooden floor of the house. He probably lost a lot of blood, Arya thought.

Arya gently nudged the little girl out of the way.

"Little girl, can you go over to where that pretty lady is?"

…

With the girl out of the way, Arya could focus on healing the boy now.

He didn't look any older than 8 or 9 years old and he was dressed in a pair of brown pants and a red shirt that were both very dirty and old and were soaked in his blood. He was barefooted and his feet were covered in little cuts-most likely from stepping on all the broken glass that Arya kept seeing all over the place. His face and hands were dirty and it looked as if he rolled around in a pile of dirt before he rolled around in a pile of garbage. He smelled that awful and in need of a warm bath.

He had coppery-red hair that was long and wild, almost reaching his shoulders, with eyes the color of steel. A small scar could be seen across his nose that looked very,very old. He looked scared and in pain.

His right arm was gone and there was a deep cut to his chest and stomach. 

Arya gulped. Her healing powers were about to be pushed to their limits right now.

But she had to try.

Her hands started to glow a bright green and green mana rushed into Owen, healing up the cut on him.

As for his arm, Arya was just trying to stop the bleeding but she instead regrew it back.

Arya fell down onto the floor once she was done with the healing process.

"All done, little boy. But I think I won't be going anywhere as I have no energy in my body now."

Ezekiel rushed over to Arya's side.

"You did well, Ar-Ar. But please don't overwork yourself especially when your body has been weakened for the past few days now."

Arya nodded slowly.

The little girl cried and laughed as she raced up to hug her brother now that fully recovered.

The boy cried with joy and hugged his sister.

"Thank you, Miss.savior. You saved my brother's life!!"

Arya felt like the smile on the little girl's face was worth the tiredness and aching she felt all over her body.

…

The little girl's name was Lily and her older brother's name was Owen.

They were the only survivors of a massacre that took place only a month ago, according to both of them.

Arya thought that it was bad enough that they had to witness the massacre and bloodshed and that their innocence was stanched away from them at such a young age but they also lived

among the corpses of their former neighbors, friends and the other residents of this village for a little more than a month now.

Both siblings managed to survive by eating the vegetables that grew in a little garden outside their home and by drinking water from a nearby stream.

Owen was busy cooking up some roasted potatoes-the last of their food supply now. Arya bit her lip knowing what it was like to go hungry for a long period of time.The memories of her past as a beggar and living in poverty still haunted her. She wondered what would happen to the two after the little garden ran out of food. 

He just threw the potatoes into a crackling place in the fireplace and then covered them up with the ashes and coal.

"Easy to make and yummy!!"

He flashed Arya a smile before turning his attention back to the potatoes.

Freya was busy playing with Lily, amusing her by making flowers grow and sprout from the cracks of the wooden flower and making flowers appear from thin air. Pinks, yellows, reds and blues, the flowers came in all colors and sizes and stood out among the drab and cheerless brown and gray of the house.

Assyrian, Granite and Ezekiel were holding a meeting at the dining table, their voices hushed and low, faces grim and focused. Arya decided to sit in with them.

Arya went to sit down on a chair only to find it caked in dust. Some of the dust got into her nose and eyes and she sneezed wildly.

Assyrian turned to her and smiled.

"Glad to welcome you to the meeting, Arya. But keep your voice down so the kids don't hear."

Assyrian turned his attention back to whatever he was saying.

"As I was saying, it may be possible that we could find other survivors out there but it seems like we are in a rather isolated countryside."

Granite added to that.

"Yes, when we were fleeing for our lives from the capital, we didn't exactly have a plan in mind as to where we were going to go or anything at all. We fled in such a panic and hurry that we didn't bring any supplies with us. Our main priority should be food and water as well as to find a safe shelter."

Arya was listening but her attention was focused on the kids, Lily and Owen.

"What's going to happen to Lily and Owen? We can't just leave them here all by themselves. They'll starve to death or the monsters will kill them. We can handle starvation and dehydration a little better since we're awakeners but they're just normal kids."

Arya blurted that out randomly.

Ezekiel also had the same concerns as she did for the well being of the two little kids.

"We will take them along with us. I'm not abandoning two kids to fend for themselves, Ar-Ar."

"Food's ready!!! There's enough for us to each have two!!"

Owen was waving at them as he used a wooden spoon to free the piping hot potatoes from their fiery prison.