The screams had stopped. The only sound was the roar of the flames.

The dead townspeople paused at the edge of the trees, the fire glowing behind their gashed silhouettes. There was the baker woman who supplied Busker with fresh pastries -- there was the merchant who often told stories by the hearth -- there was the old fisherman with four sons and three daughters, beloved by the town, now standing bloody and hollow in a haze of night and dark smoke.

They stood still. Waiting.

The horses allowed themselves to be calmed and hitched by Pallas, and while she and Dirion clambered into the rickety cart, something moved in the rubble.

Edward stood calm among the wreckage -- covered in blood, one eye gouged out. He raised his hand-cannon, pointed directly at Seloria.

"You have a beautiful power." The voice that came out of Edward's mouth sounded like Jargo's voice, lilting and taunting and tainted with darkness. "You will give it to me. Or my puppets will devour you."

High above them, Jargo stood atop a tree, grinning in the darkness, watching. He had discovered a new power: the power to control the dead. Edward was simply his newest puppet.

Edward suddenly smiled -- a mad, fangy, murderous smile.

[b]BOOM[/b]

The recoil of the hand-cannon sent Edward staggering back. Blood gushed down Seloria's leg, where a shot pellet was buried deep in the bone.

The sound of the shot spooked the horses; they bolted, careening down the road with the cart, and Dirion, Pallas, Busker and Wink with it.

The horses galloped straight for Rucks, the cart and its passengers bouncing and thrashing.

"I will have your power!" Jargo's voice crowed through Edward's dead, laughing mouth.

Jargo himself dropped to the ground and silently approached Seloria from behind, his eyes crazed and hungry.

[@SyrianHamster][@Oni_][@NorthernGR][@karamonnom][@AgentFallenSoul]