Yamada awoke only five days after Elven assault. The pungent scent of burning wood permeated the hut. He heard the frantic sounds people rushing around.

The world spun around as he sat up slowly. From head to toe, Yamada was bruised. His skin yellow and purple, bones held in place with bandages and wooden splints.

He looked around in a daze, seeing Islanders covered in cuts and bruises, to those missing limbs and being amputated, and finally to a group weeping weakly covered in burns.

He stumbled out of the bed, falling onto his knees and hands. A unbearable obliterating pain shot through his entire body.

He shrieked rolling onto his back, another searing sharp pain travelled through his body. Wailing and flailing, the pain became a loop of misery.

To cry hurt his ribs. Crying made his face scrunch, jostling the loose bones in his jaw and nose. To stop it all he tried to clench a fists, each finger wrapped tightly around a splint.

“MUMMY!” He cried out, snot and tears filling his eyes