Page 9 of Galactic Sentinels: Vol 2
“Are you mad?” my mother pleads. “We should run!”
“Run where? We have a duty to our people!”
He vanishes into the smoke.
My baby sister wails. My brother is frozen.
“Take her!” he snaps at me. “Get her quiet!”
I cradle her. I can’t stop her screaming.
Moments later, my mother runs outside to find Father.
“I think the house is on fire!” Bartiosk yells.
We flee. Flames dance across the ceiling. Smoke claws at our lungs.
At the front door, Bartiosk kicks it open. We stumble into the night. The air is a relief, though still thick with ash.
My sister’s cries have stopped. Maybe she’s asleep?
The village burns around us. Shadows flee, screams echo. It’s hell.
“Noviosk—there!” Bartiosk shouts.
In the clearing, our mother kneels beside a body—my father. His head lies apart from his body.
“Mama!” I shout.
She rises, shakily.
“Run! Go! Don’t look back!”
“No!” Bartiosk screams. “We won’t leave you!”
He runs to her. So do I. I’m barely present. The world feels unreal.
Then a deep voice.
“Well, well. The children of Pominsk.”
Paviok steps from the smoke, blade glowing.
“Didn’t think I’d have to finish the job myself. But here you are.”
“Paviok!” my mother sobs. “Please—”
“Nothing personal. Only the strong survive. Pominsk spread weakness. I ended it.”
“We were happy,” she says, broken.
“Happiness is a liability. And look—his blood stains the ground, not mine.”
“Damn you,” she spits. “He was a good leader. A good man.”
“And weak,” Paviok replies. “You, with your three children? We’ll fix that.”
“Give me the baby,” Bartiosk whispers.
