Humble Beginnings

Millfield Village, Ashfordshire, England, 1788.

The dog's barks broke the silence of the night, the stars shining in their places as a cool wind rushed through the village's dirt roads.

The old man, ever present, remained on his rickety chair as he frowned, his eyes scanning the forest that surrounded his dear village.

"Smells like rain."

The smell of grass and manure gradually faded away, the air carrying the smell of a downpour, the roofs whistling as the trees swayed in a light dance.

The night sky became quiet again, the old man relaxing on his chair as he stared into the sky. He itched his body through his shabby shawl, the light buzz of nature's melody filling the darkness.

The sounds suddenly stopped, the old man suddenly at alert as he sat upright, his eyes darting from the gravel filled road to the bushes around his home.

He stood up from the rotting chair, his steps light and careful as his steps crunched the gravel.

He had always loved the silence of the night, but this time, it was too quiet. Way too quiet. Gone were the sounds of the jumping crickets and the deep croaks of frogs, there was just nothing.

The old man widened his eyes, his relaxed gait gone as he cursed under his breath, "Bloody hell!"

He rushed into his shabby home, his thin legs tripping over nothing as he rushed to a cabinet at the corner of the room, the chimney barely lighting up his frame.

"No, no,no…No, no,no,NO,NO!"

He fumbled around the cabinet, his hands scrambling around as he ransacked his living room.

He finally widened his eyes, his hand flying back to his body as he glanced at a dimly lit coin, its rusted edges gleaming lightly in the fireplace's light.

"Praise the Lord." He muttered under his breath, turning to rush at the door before coming to a stop, his eyes moving towards a corner of his room, his eyes widening as he stared at the corner in horror.

The coin in his hand glistened, shining lightly as he stepped backwards with a speed that wasn't possible for an old man.

"I'm surprised your body can still use the power of that coin." A soft voice chuckled before a figure came into view, golden eyes floating in the darkness of the room.

"It's a shame they ever got out of our hands, no?" The figure came into the light, the silhouette of a tall woman dressed in a white cloak dancing with the tongues of the flame.

"Hello there, Mister Last Man. Let's have a chat, shall we?"

The old man continued to stare at the bright golden eyes that had appeared in his home, his grip on the coin tightening as his raspy voice filled the tension in the room.

"What do you want?"

The gold-blood didn't respond, her amber eyes wandering around the room, examining its crevices as she giggled lightly, the old man's body tightening while he stared intently at her frame.

"How the mighty have fallen. Look at you, living life in the countryside, in a nice little home. You wanted to leave your old life behind you, huh?"

The woman's smile quickly faded, her glowing eyes narrowing as she sneered, "After killing hundreds of my people, You think you can live out the few remaining years you have in…," She paused, her voice becoming bitter as she continued, "..In…peace?"

"YOU DO NOT DESERVE PEACE, LAST MAN!" She snarled angrily, her eyes glowing increasingly bright as the old man flinched in his place, her breaths loud as she struggled to calm herself.

"You flinch as though you haven't lead expeditions with your 'brothers', wiping out every settlement, all because of THOSE FUCKING COINS!" She said, her voice dripping with venom, the wind becoming increasingly powerful as she raged on.

The old man continued to stare at her, his face calm despite his tense muscles and battle-ready stance.

"What do you want from me, dotãra?" He spoke lightly, the sound of muffled wind almost drowning out his voice.

She snapped back at him, her fists clenched as her firm voice, "Don't ever speak varenthain to me again. I will kill you regardless of my goal."

The old man's eyes glistened, his hand tightening again as he listened to her, his leg shifting outwards.

She calmed down, her face still tense as she spoke, "I came to offer you a deal. Tell us where your…'brothers' are. And maybe, we won't destroy your little home."

"No." The old man deadpanned, his raspy voice firm and uncompromising.

"Stubborn, aren't you? Where did you establish your little order?" She chuckled, her stance relaxed as she muttered with a smile, "London?"

The old man smiled, his eyes crinkling as he spoke softly, "No."

"Then die." She suddenly shoot forward, her hand reaching for his torso as she threw him against the wall, her face filled a crazed smile as she screamed, "KILL THEM ALL!"

The old man screamed loudly, picking himself up as he ran towards the tree line, the coin still tight in his hand as he scampered at an impossible speed.

The gold-blood ran up to him, grabbing him by the torso and flinging his body back to his home, putting another hole through the wall.

The wind whistled around the old man's ear as he flailed around the air, his body turning like a ragdoll as he crashed into the side of the small building, coughing up blood as he stood up swiftly, running into the darkness as he ran in between the little homes, taking cover from the sight of the varenthains that were now flooding his home.

She ran back to the broken wall, her eyes darting around, searching for what should be the old man's broken body.

The house was however, filled with nothing but rubble and destroyed furniture. Her jaw clenched as she muttered to herself, rubbing her hand as she spoke softly,

"London it is."

The wind howled as she took off again, the cold air filling the silence of the home.

___________________________________________________________________________________

The village was soon awakened by the sound of walls breaking, a loud laughter echoing in the distance as a red-eyed man ran between the houses, his hands shining with a bright red radiance. Houses suddenly burst into flames, screams of pain filling the night sky and broken bricks filling the streets. The man's misty eyes filled with pleasure as he roared in laughter.

The streets were soon filled with dark shadows flying about, houses falling like dominoes, as barely clad people ran with tears streaming down their faces. The stars watched as limbs flew about, and the howling of the wind matched the howls of pain.

People dropped down on the dirt streets of the village, their eyes forever fixed in fear as the holes that had suddenly appeared on their chests filled the streets with blood. A woman knelt on the road, her skin scraped, and her brown dress torn, cradling a young boy's body as she muttered, her eyes hollow as she shook slowly.

The air was thick with dust and smoke, the old man coughing lightly as he made his way to a small house yet untouched by destruction. His steps were light as he grimaced, turning his head towards the main streets of the village, a scream suddenly cutting off in the distance.

"Catherine! Where are you?!" His shaky voice made the walls vibrate lightly, floorboards creaking in response.

The fireplace was still hot, smoking as though it was just used. The house was neat, the furniture clean and the floor spotless.

The old man smiled wryly, before he shouted again, "It's me!"

A woman rushed out of a room, her face widened in fear as she stuttered, "I can't…I can't..Why are they here?"

"Listen, Listen to me woman." The old man said, his voice low as he spoke, "Get Zarina and leave this place."

"But..but I..I can't just leave everything here!"

"Yes, you can. Get your coin and let's leave, now."

"But the village is…" She widened her eyes, stepping back slowly as she stared at the old man.

"Gone." He said frankly, his eyes scanning the windows as the screams continued to echo along with the blowing wind and the drizzling rain.

"No." She shook her head, rushing back inside, to return with a coin with a string tied to it, and tying it around her neck.

"Please, Catherine, listen to me, please." The old man held her hand, shaking his head as he gestured to the window.

"This is what they do. They destroy lives, and then erase every trace of their existence. If you lose this battle, the only people that will remember you, will just be me and your daughter." The man shouted, his hand still tightly gripping on to the coin.

"I know what I'm putting myself into." She muttered, before a girl ran out of the same room, her eyes filled with tears as she gripped on to her mother.

"Please, mother." She cried into the hem of her mother's dress, her sobs building into the tension.

Catherine looked down at her daughter, gritting her teeth as she turned into a blur, running out of the door with a gust of wind.

"NO! MOTHER!" Zarina cried, stumbling as she lost her support.

The old man stood silently, clenching his fists as he listened to Zarina's sobs, the drizzle turning into a downpour.

"Let's go." The old man said calmly, staring at the girl on the ground.

He picked her up as she protested, kicking her feet in the air, " No, NO, WE CAN'T LEAVE HER!"

He walked to the front door and kicked it open, vanishing in a blur.