The chapel held an uncomfortable silence. Not many people were speaking, and those who did spoke in hushed whispers. Aveca had arrived to help when the spawn started pouring out of that gate. She went straight to business as the world around her turned to chaos and she tried to help people congregate at the chapel. She put aside her absolute terror at the unknown. It didn’t help much. Not many people were inside.

The idea behind the gate was beyond her. Her education in the field of the other worlds was lesser, as she hadn’t focused on those areas of magic during her schooling. She could see the faces around the room wondering; many were praying. She had no answers for them. She doubted anyone did.

It didn’t matter to her anymore. Whatever was happening was happening, and she tried not to focus on it as she healed the rather serious burns on the child in front of her. He was a young Imperial of maybe ten years, and his father was beside him with a weapon at his hip. He was in common clothing, but he appeared ready to defend his home because push had indeed come to shove. 

As the spell faded, the boy rubbed his hands over where the burns had been in awe. He seemed stunned for words, but his father thanked her quietly, so as not to break the lull, and they moved to the back of the chapel. At least here, she was needed and her skills could be of use. Aveca moved to sit on a bench and surveyed the room. 

Farthest from the doors, common people huddled. Pieces of families and untrained fighters, they were terrified. As she looked closer to the barricaded parts of the doors, the fighters appeared more and more competent. Two or three guardsmen had managed to make their way to the chapel, though she wasn’t sure how much good it would do. The fighters she could see still didn’t seem to be enough. Disorganized travellers, skilled people, adventurers, really. They didn’t have the numbers.

She looked up at the window and could see the red sky outside. [i]How will we ever get out?[/i]