Through fire comes the way
Raid of Banan- Part 1
Burdened, overwhelmed, pressed by an inconceivable force which kept him buried; a warm spread through all of the wood and boards that made up that unshakable pressure. A warmth that couldn't possibly be good, as it was an abrasive warmth. A harmful warmth, that consumed everything around it and threatened all near it. In this burning warm, fire spreads like a disease, covering all which once was a ceiling of a place now consumed by flames. The wooden structure had been reduced to rubble and burnt ashen wood, that will surely be consumed in a short time, leaving nothing but dust behind.
And, under these circumstances, a man now emerges out of the pile of burning ruins of what once was a tavern. Bruised, burned and scarred. Clothes ruined and his body messed up. His consciousness has returned to his body, and so has his strength to his limbs. He violently shook himself and stood on his legs. Now awake, a view of only red and orange, bright colors stood as the sense of sight had returned to him. He tried to have a long breath in, but his lungs screamed out of pain at the overwhelming smoke that clouded not only the atmosphere, but the air too. His hearing regained as well, he heard the screams of what he could describe as 'hell', an awful place his father had described to him once. Screams of terror and pain in the distance, smell of smoke and blood filled the air, as well as a distinctive stench filled with malice and madness. Red flames burning sadistically everything, everywhere he laid eyes upon, consuming all that it touched without distinction. Hell indeed. What had the city of Banan become?...
"Hell… Damn it… Damn it all…!"
His knees almost gave to his feelings, and his burdening wounds, but he wouldn't fall even if he wanted to. Not here, not like this. Long ago since his awakening he had started shedding tears of frustration, once the shock of confusion disappeared. The heartbreaking sight of his natal city being burned down before his eyes made him feel a phantom pain right where his heart stood. As proud as he was, the frustration of being incapable of having stopped this destruction before it even began left a hole in his being. A hole that was suddenly filled with a mix of worry, anger and guilt. He looked to his surroundings, and found only ruins. The bar/tavern he had spent the night yesterday was utterly destroyed and in flames. He had no clue of what could have happened, as his last memory consisted of having been drinking with friends until an increasing heat and a loud sound made him lose his consciousness. He was truly ashamed, he felt utterly ridiculous and useless, but this was not the time for self loathing. He pushed his body forward and walked to the light that had been annoying him since he woke up.
Under the rubble, his short sword stood alone and unsheathed. He quickly took it, and saw his own reflection in the blade of the sword. A hateful glare had his face, his natural evil gaze was truthful in his feelings for the first time in his life. His blue eyes glowed with anger, strengthening the grip on the hilt of the sword. As he lowered his weapon, he braced himself as he walked out of the building, heading to the street where all sorts of madness could be heard. The young man shook the ashes out of his blue hair, without caring about his own turned-out-to-shreds kararagian clothes, the same uncaring treatment went for his burned and worned out pants.
And as he finally left out the destroyed tavern, leaving the poor souls who had burnt to death behind, a hot breeze went past him. The smoke in the air hurted his lungs, but he would suffer it, the same way those who dared to make his beloved city a fire festival of death would suffer him. No pain would be enough to get him to stop, as he was a member of the Oni, and stood proud in his strength as the pupil of Kararagi's strongest. But his stomach could barely hold back it's fluids after reaching the street. The aftermath of a fierce battle had left numerous corpses behind. Battle, and not massacre, because the bodies of what one could imagine to be the alleged culprits rested in the filthy ground, killed by an unknown hero who rested too not so far away from here.
People of different species, ages and genders were utterly massacred, their bodies left behind by their souls served proof of the terrible death they had experienced and the pain they had endured in their last moments. Civilians were utterly murdered in the most cruel ways, noted the young man who walked his way through the dismembered and burned bodies. Other horrors were made to those who stayed inside their houses, and a sea of blood flooded the stone soil of the city. But there were some, who resisted. Those who fought for their lives had died a less terrible death, and the fierce sounds of battle could still be heard far ahead. The black clothes of the culprit's corpses left to rot proved right the young man's fears, as those devilish acts and malice-filled intent could only be found in them.
"...Damn you…Damn you, witch-lovers! Damn you all to hell!"
And with that pain filled battle cry, he kept walking towards the main square, and towards his parent's house he walked, sword in hand, through the path of corpses and regrets. Natsuki Rigel had joined the fight against the Witch Cult, in the raid of Banan.