SHADOWS OF LEGACY, THE CLOVER MAGE'S RECKONING.

Chapter 8:

They ran as fast as they all can.

Always up. Following the slope of the tunnel as it wound toward the surface. Other miners ran with them,a desperate stream of humanity fleeing toward an uncertain fate.

Thorne's lungs burned. His legs ached from the fight with Garrett and now this. But he kept moving. One foot in front of the other. Marcus beside him, breathing hard, muttering prayers under his breath.

The tunnel opened up ahead. Daylight. Real daylight, not the artificial glow of torches or the sickly red of emergency lights.

They burst out onto the surface.

And stumbled into hell.

The mining camp was burning.

Not just burning,’consumed’. Every building, every tent, every structure was wrapped in flames. Orange and red and a horrible, unnatural purple that seemed to eat the light around it.

But worse than the flames were the things moving through them.

Skeletons.

Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds. It was hard to tell through the smoke. They wore black cloaks that billowed in wind that shouldn't exist, the fabric never catching fire despite the flames all around. Their bones were white as fresh snow. Their eye sockets glowed with that same purple light.

They moved through the camp like they were conducting a harvest. Not hurried. Not frantic. Just methodical. Efficient.

A skeleton raised one skeletal hand. Purple fire gathered in its palm. It threw the fire at a building, and the structure exploded, sending burning debris in all directions.

Someone was screaming. Thorne couldn't tell where.

"No. No, no, no."

 Marcus was staring at the destruction, his face slack with horror. Then his eyes focused on something in the distance. 

"My house. That's…I have to…"

He ran.

Thorne watched him go. Watched him sprint toward a burning building on the edge of the camp, dodging falling beams and purple flames.

He should leave. Should run the other direction. This wasn't his fight. These weren't his people. He'd spent ten years learning that nobody would help him, so why should he help anyone else?

But his feet were already moving.

He ran after Marcus.

The heat was incredible. Like standing next to a forge, but worse. It sucked the moisture from his eyes, made every breath feel like swallowing fire. Smoke choked the air, turning everything into shifting shadows.

Marcus reached the building and kicked in what remained of the door.

 "Sarah! Kids! Where are you?!"

A woman's voice from inside: 

"Marcus! We're trapped!"

Thorne caught up just as Marcus disappeared into the building. Without thinking, without deciding, Thorne followed him in.

The interior was barely holding together. Support beams had cracked. Part of the ceiling had collapsed. Fire crawled up the walls like living things.

Marcus was in what looked like a bedroom, pulling at a heavy wooden beam that had fallen across the floor. Underneath it, a woman and three children huddled together.

"I can't,it's too heavy…" 

Marcus's voice was desperate. He pulled again, his face red with effort. The beam didn't budge.

"Help me!" 

He shouted when he saw Thorne.

Thorne grabbed the other end of the beam. Together, they lifted. It was like trying to lift a mountain. The wood groaned. Marcus's arms shook. Thorne felt something in his back protesting.

But it moved.

Inch by inch, they lifted it high enough for the woman to scramble out, dragging two small children with her. A boy and a girl, maybe five and seven years old. Both crying.

"There's one more!" 

The woman gasped. 

"Under the…"

Marcus was already reaching under the wreckage. He pulled out a teenage boy, maybe fourteen, unconscious but breathing.

"Got him! Move! Everyone out!"

They ran. Marcus carried the unconscious boy. His wife had the two younger children by the hands. Thorne followed, making sure nobody fell behind.

They burst out of the building just as the roof collapsed behind them. The sound was enormous,a crash followed by an explosion of sparks and purple flame.

Marcus set his son down gently and immediately grabbed Thorne's shoulders. His eyes were wet. 

"Thank you. Thank you. I don't know how to…"

"Don't." 

Thorne's voice was flat. 

"Just get them somewhere safe."

Marcus nodded quickly. He scooped up the two younger children,one in each arm, despite how much they must have weighed. His wife supported the older boy, who was starting to come around, groaning.

They started to run toward the edge of the camp, where other survivors were fleeing into the forest beyond.

They made it maybe twenty feet before two figures stepped out of the smoke.

Skeletons in black cloaks. They moved in perfect sync, like they were two parts of the same mind. Purple light blazed in their empty eye sockets.

Marcus skidded to a stop. His wife gasped. The two younger children started crying again.

"Father, I'm scared."

 The little boy, the five-year-old, his voice high and trembling.

Marcus set him down gently and pulled both children close, along with his wife. His arms wrapped around his family, trying to shield them with his body. "It's okay. It's going to be okay. I'm here. I've got you."

But his voice was shaking. His face was pale. He 

knew the same thing Thorne knew.

They weren't going to be okay.

The skeletons raised their hands. Purple fire began to gather.

Thorne stepped forward.

He positioned himself between the skeletons and Marcus's family. His hands hung loose at his sides. He had no weapon. No magic nor a plan.

Marcus looked up at him. 

"Thorne, what are you…"

Thorne turned back. Looked at Marcus. At the man who'd shown him kindness in a place that had none. The family huddled together, scared but alive.

"Take the other path."

 Thorne said quietly. He held out the two younger children, placing them back in Marcus's arms.

 "Run. Don't stop."

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine." 

Thorne's voice was steady. Empty.

 "Go now."

Marcus opened his mouth to argue. To protest. To say something.

But one look at Thorne's face stopped him.

"Thank you." 

Marcus whispered. Then he gathered his family and ran.

Thorne watched them disappear into the smoke. Heard their footsteps fade.

Then he turned back to the skeletons.

They hadn't moved. Just stood there, waiting. Patient. Like they had all the time in the world.

"Alright." 

Thorne said to nobody in particular.

 "Let's get this over with…"