Death

Arawn tried to grab a hold of Sirona before she broke through the tree line, but she darted past him and barged into the area. She went ridged as she looked on the camp and the woman screamed and fought against the man looming over her.
Arawn’s stomach turned and rage boiled through him. He hated humans like this the most, but this wasn’t something Sirona needed to see. He came forward to grab her and pull her away when the air around her shifted.
It headed like a storm coming and almost crackled across his skin. Her aura fluctuated around her and flared high and bright. It was different than the other trances she’d be in, but there was no mistaking the heaving power that was flowing out of her.
He almost cursed, but he hung back to see what she would do.

Time and darkness world and Sirona found herself watching a much younger version of herself, dressed in a pretty blue dress and cowering in a cave as men in dark, dirty clothing tore through the carriage.
The driver’s body was pulled from his seat and tossed to the ground. The horses neighed and stomped their feet. The knights lay still twitching in slowly growing pools of blood. The scent of blood hung in the crisp morning air.
Sirona had forgotten this incident, but as it flashed through her mind, she remembered it all too clearly now. She had been so frightened when they assailed the carriage. Her father had sent her ahead with an armored guard. She had been on the way from the capital for holiday from schooling.
Her handmaiden at the time had tried to escape and had been killed. She remembered the way the bandits had loomed over her corpse, grumbling about having to hurry up before her body got cold.
“Don’t look, mistress,” her governess said, trying to shield her from the sight. “Y-Your father is on the road, just behind us with the rest of the guards…”
“Hey, this one is still alive,” one of them said leering at her governess. The woman had gone stiff, but she hadn’t moved, still keeping herself between Sirona and the bandit.
“Not as pretty as the other one.”
“I don’t need it pretty. I just need it alive.”
They laughed as the other bandit started grunting rhythmically. The two turned and grabbed the governess. She twisted in their grip and fought, but there was no way she would escape two grown men on her own.
“Unhand me!”
They laughed at her protests and shoved her to the ground, tearing at her gown with greedy mean fingers.
One of them with wild, blank eyes like an animal looked at Sirona, “What about the little one?”
Sirona’s stomach turned at the memory of the way he leered at her. She had been barely ten years old then. She recognized the same animal intent in the men who were watching their comrade subdue the woman beneath him.
“You can have her if you want. I prefer my women a bit more mature.”
“Don’t you go near the young mistress!”
Sirona pulled herself out of the memory and glared at the men. She drew her sword as the man started to laugh and reach for the laces of his trousers. She knew what his intentions were. The grunts of that bandit thrusting into that young woman’s body, defiling her corpse, filled her ears as rage began to simmer.
This felt different than the bandits in the town. She felt more in control and furious rather than lost in the waves of power rushing through her.
Instead of gushing and overflowing, her power felt like it was boiling and rising slowly, warming every inch of her body until she felt as like she was the heart of a volcano.
“I love it when they scream. Best to scream louder. No one can hear you.”
The woman cried out in terror, sobbing and scrambling to try and escape.
“Let me go! Please someone help me!”
The young handmaiden had cried then too. She’d fought and ran until they struck her down with an arrow through her chest to keep her silent.
They’d grumbled about not wanting to kill her.
The man who had looked at her with the vacant, animal gaze came closer to Sirona with a maddened smile. Sirona’s heart raced with fear and she scrambled away from him, listening to the way the governess screamed and kicked.
She felt warmth bubbling up in her chest and realized why the feeling was so familiar. She’d felt it then.
“If you’re good, I’ll be gentle,” he’d said, laughing a little as if it was funny.
The warmth exploded through her. A flash of light streaked across the metal of the carriage and the cave wall. The shadows grew tall and insidious around them. Then, the bandit screamed and vanished into the dark.
The three who had been preoccupied with the handmaiden’s corpse and fighting Sirona’s governess turned and grew angry, charging towards Sirona and cursing.
The shadow grabbed them with greedy fingers. They screamed. Light flashed and blood splashed nearby. The governess got to her feet and grabbed Sirona, gathering her up as the bandits’ cries of fear echoed through the cave. She got them onto a horse after freeing it from the carriage and urged it away from the carriage as fast as she could manage towards Gunning.
The bandits’ cries faded into the distance then everything had gone quiet.
Sirona remembered that they never spoke about it again though her father paid the young handmaiden’s family for their loss.
She remembered crying for that young woman. She remembered wanting to forget what she’d seen. She had never expected the memory to resurface like this. A bit of the helpless fear went through her, cementing her feet to the ground, but she pushed it aside.
She wasn’t a ten-year-old girl any longer. She didn’t know how she’d done it then, but she knew she was the reason why those bandits had died screaming in the forest.
Arawn’s words came back to her. She never cried for them. She wouldn’t cry for these bandits either. Her only regret had been that she couldn’t save the young handmaiden whose name she couldn’t even remember.
“Someone help me!”
“No one is going to—”
Sirona darted forward, as she channeled power through her sword. When she was close enough, she twisted violently, aiming for his neck. His mocking voice broke off as she severed his head. Blood gushed from his neck as his head flew and tumbled through the air.
The young handmaiden’s name came to mind then along with her sunny smile and kindness. Sirona’s eyes burned with tears.

Druid yelped as he felt something shove him out of bed. He grunted as he landed on the floor and sat up, confused and startled by it. There were no playful spirits around or anything of that sort. It had been a shove of divine power. The Supreme One had woken him for some reason. Was it a warning of some sort or something he was meant to pay attention to? He stood turning his head as he realized that the air was different. He stumbled downstairs rubbing his eyes and walking out to the back garden, hoping to find some clue, but there was nothing that caught his attention.
The earth seemed different. The plants all seemed alive. The air was charged with power, but nothing more stood out to him.
Then, he frowned as he started to recognize this feeling. It was the same feeling he’d gotten from his last vision.
A great star had crashed to the ground and destroyed a circled of looming trees. Shadows had gushed and rolled like oil around it, trying to blot out its light. Then fire had come and scorched the earth. As the fires began to die and the sun began to rise over the devastating scene, the air had warmed and filled with power as if he’d been standing in the middle of a temple.
As the sun’s light spread across the ground, life spouted. The great valley that had been carved into the ground filled with water, becoming a fjord in between the remains of the mountains. Trees sprouted. Animals appeared, darting between the trees. Birds took flight as sturdy-looking houses began to appear in between the thick trees.
In the distance, he saw the floating mountains and the temple among them, gleaming as if brand new.
The world felt different in the vision, but he could feel a bit of that change now.
What did it mean?
“Any guidance as to what this means, I will gladly take.”
The wind blew and he heard a peal of gentle laughter as it passed over his face like a gentle, affectionate stroke to his jaw.
It was not for him to know just yet, but he would soon enough.