Page 5 of The Song of Sunrise
“For Goldenpine!”
The villagers scream, scrambling for weapons—plates, silverware—anything they can use to defend themselves. A deafening crack of thunder shakes the room.
It is utter chaos.
Yet my mind is numb, frozen in fear as I take in the unfolding scene around me.
“Take your siblings and run! Go west, as far as you can run, my loves!Go!” a mother screams for her eldest son to take the younger children gathered around her arms. She turns toward the onslaught and grabs knives off the table, readying herself to fight.
“Sun Goddess please watch over us, guide us to your light in our final hour of darkness…” a man prays as he soils himself.
Children duck under the tables, confused, quivering with fear.
A group of farmers push their way to the edge of the room, donning their sickles and shovels from the wall.
Nic! He was by the doors!
My pulse thumps wildly in my skull, and my vision blurs.
The only thing grounding me to this consciousness is turning cold beneath my touch.
I fold myself over Marrow, shielding him with my body, though I know it doesn’t matter. Won’t bring him back to me. I want to carve the memories of him so sharply into my mind that they will never fade.
Will I remember the way his eyes shimmered with joy as he played?
The sweet scent of the lemon tea he brewed before our lessons?
The way this voice filled my soul one moment, only to crack me down the middle the next?
“I AM A SUN WATCHER. BEHIND ME!” a man roars. Two large men stride in the side door of the tavern, blue cloaks clasped at their neck.
Watchers!
The taller of the two stands over six feet. He has dark skin and long braided hair, shaved short above his ears. His comrade is slightly shorter with sun-kissed skin and piercing blue eyes, partially concealed by a swirl of black hair. His broad shoulders taper to a narrow waist.
A blinding flash of light erupts from the taller, dark-skinned Watcher, making my eyes sting.
Screams follow another pulse of light.Magic!
Underlings cower forward in panic, tearing at their eyes from the blinding flash. A group of nearby civilians stab them relentlessly with forks, knives, and whatever other objects they managed to conjure into weapons.
The Underlings laugh hysterically, invigorated by the chaos. Black blood drips from their wounds onto the floor.
The light-wielding Watcher handles a long sword with lethal precision, stabbing an Underling in the neck while helping a woman up off the floor with his free hand.
Sheets of icy fog and mist creep through the room, thickest where the Underlings are clustered. The other Watcher— the one with the crystal blue eyes and midnight hair—is standing on a table welding some sort of fog-like magic that manages to freeze a few Underlings to the ground.
More patrons join the assault, smashing plates and stabbing wherever possible.
A few Underlings fall. But the raven-haired leader slashes his way through the hall, cutting down anyone unfortunate enough to get within reach of his axe.
The fog-wielding Watcher standing atop the table snatches an arrow out of the air only inches from piercing his stomach. He steps and launches the arrow so hard into the chest of an Underling, it is pinned to the wall. The Underling’s head bobsforward, long, tangled orange hair falling across its face. Blood as black as the night sky seeps from its shoulder.
I’m still clutching onto Marrow. Unable to move. Observing everything and nothing at the same time.
“Akemi!” Rosie shakes me. “You need to get out of here. Now!”
Her words sound muffled, distant. I shake my head. I want to stay. I want to hold onto Marrow, the only person who ever cared for me like a father.
