Free Awake the Cullers (History of Ondar) by Amanda Young, Raymond Young Jr.

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    Taking advantage of his doubled over posture , Kern rammed the man closest to him. He didn’t expect to move him far, but he did not need to. Once in close, he shoved his short sword up under the man’s ribs, going in from the gut. Pulling the blade out at an angle, he stepped back, twisting out of the way of another attacker. He used his smaller size to slip under the man’s reach and strike up with his blade. The sword went in just below the chin and pierced all the way through the brain. He pulled the sword and sent it straight behind him, into the belly of the next man. Unlike the other two blows, this was not enough to instantly kill the man. He brought his arm down hard on Kern’s shoulder, but that was not the worst of it. The man’s arm was covered in a series of metal shards, standing out like claws or horns on an animal. The shards ripped into his shoulder and neck. Kern took a step to the side, but the man hit again, leaving a trail of gashes down his arm.
    Time slowed in that moment. Gathering his center again, he heard the children crying. The woman was silent. Her body was still. He didn’t have long if he hoped to save her. It may already be too late. Across the yard Zanden fought off four large brutes. Blue fire slid down his blade, covering his fists and burning his adversaries. Despite that advantage, the numbers they faced were high. Like Kern, Zanden had taken his fair share of abuse. Kern took another punch to the gut and thought absentmindedly that he ou ght to worry about saving himself. Pushing that thought to the side, Kern pressed on. They may be fighting monsters, and he did not have the benefit of Suriaxian fire, but that did not mean he would give up. The next time the man swung Kern moved with him, using his momentum to carry the man into one of the other two remaining opponents. The two men began fighting each other, leaving Kern with the last man.
    Kern ducked and stabbed, sticking holes into the man wherever possible. Not that the pain would stop him, but he hoped in the absence of a killing blow, blood loss could eventually win out. Too bad Kern was fighting his own share of blood loss. He aimed for the sensitive areas of the wrists and ankles, but the man’s skin was tough and difficult to cut through effectively. Kern dropped and rolled out of the man’s reach, picking up a discarded axe along the way. Giving it a throw, he was rewarded by a solid stick in the man’s forehead. He fell instantly.
    From the two men who had forgotten Kern to start their own brawl, a single victor stood. It was the same clawed arm man who caused Kern so much pain before. Not giving t he man a chance to attack again Kern swung low, cutting off one leg entirely and the other leg in half. Unable to stand, the man fell to his back. Kern stabbed down, intending to end it all with a clean hit to the heart. Unfortunately, unable to stand did not mean unable to fight. That clawed arm struck out and pulled Kern off his own feet. Kern hit the ground hard. Still struggling to pull air back into his lungs, he stabbed up under the man’s arm. Sharp metal tore into Kern’s forearm with every movement. Kern ignored the pain and pushed the sword in deeper, twisting it until the man stopped moving.
    With a deep breath in, Kern crawled over to the woman and children. The children were afraid but alive. Kern lifted the woman off the children she shielded, even while unconscious. Her chest moved faintly with shallow breaths. He pulled a potion from his bag and poured it down her throat. She coughed but did not rouse. Her wounds were deep. She lived, but barely. It could take a dozen potions to heal her damage. Kern looked around the battlefield. People lay dead and dying. Zanden, having dispatched the other Cullers, now walked around handing out potions and doing field dressings.
    Kern tried another potion on the woman, but like the first, it did very little to help her. He looked at the hopeful faces of the