Skyborne Raider

“Okay, that was scary,” Mike notes, raising his sabre.

“I've never seen him that terrified. This gives me chills."

"We’re in some serious danger; I can feel it in my bones,” Astrid says while looking around, visibly shaking.

I exhale deeply. I haven’t even told them yet that I had an encounter with him. Maybe it was all just a dream; I’m not sure. But that damn cat spoke to me.

The wind picks up, blowing even stronger now, but it’s not a refreshing breeze anymore. It carries the smell of cinder and smoke, and a wave of heat slaps my face.

With the wind blowing like this, the fire will be on us in mere moments.

We can't die like this! I can't die like this!

The last thing I need is to face a painful death, especially after everything I’ve been through, compressed like in a baler.

“Brrr.” A shiver runs down my back, and I shake involuntarily. Once again, thoughts of pain, puncturing bones and the pressure flood my mind.

I’d rather smash my head with my own hammer or suffocate on purpose by inhaling the smoke. Anything is better than burning alive!

I squint toward the direction where the heat is coming from and see an orange ball glowing.

It’s already that close? It wasn’t there a moment ago!

“Run!”

Mike stops shielding himself and Astrid with his jacket and grabs her hand. We all bolt deeper into the forest.

What the hell was I thinking? There are no XPs in this, and we might even lose access to the river for good.

If I don’t end up burning alive, Mike and Astrid will kill me in my sleep for the mess I’ve made.

We run through the trees, desperately trying to escape the heat, heading toward the unknown. I’m a bit ahead of Mike and Astrid.

After a short while, I see a slightly open space ahead, with more sunlight filtering through the trees. As we get closer, a huge circular meadow with short, patchy grass and bushes surrounded by trees comes into view.

We rush in, and I sprint toward the center. Turning around to survey the surroundings, I spin twice in place, trying to comprehend everything.

The fire is spreading wildly and widely, engulfing the forest behind us, with flames licking high into the sky. Thick, heavy black smoke rises aggressively, darkening the sky.

Burning branches are starting to fall, but the fire isn’t spreading as quickly on the grassy ground as it is in the trees. This buys us some time to plan our next move.

My eyes are full of tears from the heat and smoke. I wipe them with my dirty, crispy sleeve, scratching my face slightly. Spinning around again, I analyze the area, looking for potential threats.

What’s that? A pointy black triangle is just visible above the tree canopies opposite the fire. A building?

“Guys, look! A building!” I yell, pointing upward. Mike and Astrid try to move toward me, but I don’t give them a chance to speak.

Without thinking, I decide to cross the open space and head toward the structure. The moment I take my first step, I feel a strong pressure in my ears and chest.

Like standing next to a concert speaker, the deep bass vibrating through me. Astrid and Mike drop their weapons, plugging their ears with their fingers.

I do the same, while still holding my hammer. The leather handle is touching my face while I use my pinky finger to block one ear.

I’m not letting go of the hammer! The sound is unbearable, and I press my fingers into my ears so hard that my fingernails dig into my ear canals.

I hate fire. I fear it the most. But was it something else the cat was trying to warn us about? What is all this?

The deep vibration is followed by the cracking of branches, which fall from the trees unnaturally fast, as if pulled by invisible ropes. This accelerates the fire’s spread around the meadow, forming a barrier.

Trees that weren’t straight begin to topple over quickly and unnaturally.

The smoke is thick, rising swiftly and blanketing the sky until I can’t see it anymore. Darkness again. I try to take another step, but my hammer slips from my hand, as if pulled away, or maybe my grip weakened. The hammerhead buries itself halfway into the soil, despite the ground being dry and rock hard.

Strange, this is definitely an invisible artificial force.

The vibration stops. I look back and see Astrid lying on the ground, her arms and legs twisted unnaturally, pinned down. Mike is kneeling, holding the handle of his sabre on the ground.

Is he trying to pull it out? He looks like he’s in pain, his fingers squished against the hard soil. His clothes are so tight they outline his broad shoulders.

For a brief moment, I think Astrid is screaming in pain. The thought alone sends shivers down my spine, making me feel cold. But then I realize the screams are coming from the burning, fresh, and moist forest.

I focus on Mike again—he’s shaking.

“Mike…” I try to shout, but I’m interrupted by a weird moment. Sweat from my forehead drips down all at once, leaving my skin dry.

My scalp starts to hurt. The hair on the side of my head is being pulled, almost tearing off. I feel pressure on top of my head, aware of every hair follicle.

Looking down at the bottom of my shirt, I bow my head to ease the pain in my hair. The dried and heavy part of my shirt is being pulled down next, fitting tightly around me and pressing on my shoulders.

My sneakers and sweatpants feel heavy and tight, pulling me down.

Arrgh.” I’m forced to kneel, unable to take even one step. My sneakers feel as heavy as stones. The pressure is too much to resist.

I glance at Mike one last time. He’s already lying on his side next to Astrid, his hand still gripping the sabre. I collapse, face-first into the ground, curling into a fetal position.

I use the last of my strength to roll onto my side, avoiding the dirt. My hammer lies in front of me, half-buried in the ground. In its reflection, I watch the heavy smoke clouds move quickly.

*Cough, cough.*

What the hell? Did I just hear someone coughing right behind me? The sound is old and raspy.

I don’t hear any footsteps; the fire is too loud. In the reflection of my hammer, I see movement. My eyes shift to the left, and as the reflection clears, I see dark, tattered robes swing in front of me.

*Thud.*

A heavy rope falls to the ground. The figure bends down, and I catch a glimpse of its hands—big, old, wrinkled, and dirty, with long, ugly fingernails gripping the rope tightly.

It tries to loop the rope around my neck, sliding it under my head, nearly cutting my ear. As it tightens, I use the last of my strength to wedge my left hand between the rope and my neck, protecting myself from suffocating.

The rope tightens instantly, my forearm pressing against my face. I’m being pulled away slowly. My stiff, weighted clothes are the only thing protecting me from the friction.

Disoriented, I assume I’m being dragged back the way we came, toward the burning forest.

I don’t even panic. Closing my eyes to conserve energy is all I can do. Maybe all the horrors and near-deaths have toughened me up.

Maybe this is body shock, the kind I’ve read about online, that keeps you calm in a tight situation? I think about this as I’m dragged away.

Passing by Mike and Astrid, I don’t even try to call out to them. They’re just lying there, facing away from me.

I’ll probably respawn anyway, but where? In the middle of hell, burning alive again and again. I start to feel hopeless and begin to hyperventilate.

I don’t know what’s more painful—the scraping of my skin against the ground or the heat growing closer and more intense.

Am I being executed? The heat is unbearable.

Suddenly, the dragging stops.