The Fall of Marinia

 Chapter three

As Cormac approached the kingdom's entrance, a thick, acrid haze enveloped him, reeking of smoke and charred wood. The air was heavy with the scent of destruction, and the sky was a deep, foreboding grey. Flames licked at the windows of nearby houses, casting flickering shadows on the ground. People's properties lay shattered and broken, the remnants of their lives scattered everywhere.

Pandemonium reigned as men and women ran wildly, their faces etched with terror. Children wailed, their high-pitched cries piercing the air. The sound of clashing steel, screams, and wailing filled Cormac's ears, creating a cacophony of chaos.

Cormac's eyes widened in horror as he took in the scene. His brow furrowed, and his lips pressed into a thin line. "What in the name of the gods...?" he muttered to himself, his voice barely audible over the din.

As he hastened towards his house, his footsteps quickened, and his heart pounded in his chest. His eyes scanned the mayhem, searching for any sign of his loved ones. The sight of the Drakmara soldiers, clad in their distinctive deep reds, browns, and blacks, with the bright metallic gold of the Drakmara sigil gleaming on their armor, made his blood run cold.

The Marinians were being rounded up, their cries and pleas for help falling on deaf ears. Young girls and boys were being torn from their families, pushed into large carts, and taken away. The elderly and the sick were being slaughtered, their bodies left to burn and some lie broken on the ground.

Cormac's face twisted in anguish as he witnessed the atrocities. His eyes blazed with anger, and his fists clenched at his sides. He felt a surge of adrenaline, urging him to act, to do something to stop the carnage.

As he approached his house, he saw that it was still standing, but the door was open, and the windows were shattered. A sense of dread washed over him, and he steeled himself for what he might find inside.

With a deep breath, Cormac stepped across the threshold, his heart heavy with foreboding. The silence inside was oppressive, punctuated only by the distant sounds of chaos and destruction. He called out, his voice shaking with emotion, 

 "Hello? Is anyone here?" His eyes scanned the room, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he spotted his daughters, Selena, Isolde, and Adrielle, huddled together in the corner, their faces etched with worry. Selena's voice trembled as she asked, "Papa, what's happening?"

Lady Nella, pale and anxious, stood near the window, her eyes fixed on the chaos outside. She turned to Cormac, her voice laced with concern. "Cormac, what's going on? We heard the horns and the screams. What's happening to our kingdom?"

Cormac rushed to the door, locking it with a sense of urgency, careful to make as little noise as possible. "The Drakmara soldiers have invaded the kingdom," he whispered, his voice tight with fear. "We need to hide the girls, quickly. We can't let them be captured."

But before Nella could even move to protect their daughters, the door was violently kicked open, splintering off its hinges and crashing to the floor with a deafening bang.

As the door burst open, Cormac instinctively positioned himself between the entrance and his family, his eyes blazing with a fierce determination to protect them. Nella's eyes widened in terror as she quickly gathered their three daughters, and pulled them close to her.

The Drakmara soldiers, clad in their menacing armor, stormed into the house, their swords drawn and their faces twisted with cruel intent. The leader, a burly man with a scar above his left eyebrow, sneered at Cormac, "Marinian Regent, hiding with his precious family. How quaint."

Cormac's grip on his dagger tightened as he prepared to defend his family against the invaders. Nella's voice trembled as she whispered to the girls, "Don't make a sound, my loves. Daddy will protect us."

The leader's eyes landed on Nella and the girls, and a wicked grin spread across his face, "Ah, the woman and children. We'll take them with us. They'll make fine additions to our lord's collection

Cormac's face darkened with rage, and he took a step forward, ready to fight to the death to protect his family. "Don't dare come near them," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "You'll not take my family from me. Not while I still breathe."

The leader snorted, "Or what? You'll stop us? You're no match for the Drakmara army, Regent. Your kingdom will soon be under our lord's rule, and you'll be nothing but a footnote in history."

Cormac's eyes blazed with defiance. "We'll never submit to your rule. Our kingdom values freedom and peace, not tyranny and bloodshed. War is not the answer. Is that truly what your lord desires? To bring suffering and despair to innocent people?"

The leader sneered, "Our lord desires power, and he'll stop at nothing to achieve it. You're just a foolish regent, clinging to outdated notions of honor and justice. We'll crush your kingdom, and you'll kneel before our lord."

Just as the leader was about to respond to Cormac's defiance, a figure emerged from behind the soldiers. Marcellus, with his characteristic smirking grin, stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with triumph.

Cormac's gaze narrowed, his expression unyielding. He hadn't expected Marcellus to reveal himself so soon, but he wasn't entirely surprised either.

Marcellus chuckled, his voice dripping with malice. "Oh, well, well, the mighty and justly Regent. You still have pride when the kingdom has just been crushed and crumbled. This wouldn't have happened if you had allowed another family to rule our dearest kingdom, even though you haven't borne a son."

Marcellus's gaze shifted to Nella, his eyes lingering on her round, pregnant stomach. "Or this," he gestured, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "That made you not step down."

Cormac's face darkened, his anger simmering just below the surface. He took a step forward, but Marcellus raised a hand, forestalling him.

Marcellus turned to the soldiers. "Capture the woman and children. Take them to the waiting carts. We'll ensure they're...comfortable...during their journey."

The soldiers moved forward, their swords still drawn. Cormac positioned himself between them and his family, his dagger at the ready. "You'll have to go through me first," he growled, his eyes blazing with determination.