The Writer's Escape

7. The Battle

Serena hoped that she would wake up back at home, but instead she woke to Berry's snoring. She sat up to find the warning note crumpled in her fist. She stared at it and brushed it away. 

Servants brought the three of them breakfast: figs from the many fig trees in this region, and thickly sliced seed loaf that tasted surprisingly good. The meal tasted far better than the nutrition squares they'd eaten while travelling on the hovercraft. 

By the time the three of them were up, the village was preparing for an attack. Tension was thick in the air, everyone in the building busy and grim, fear flashing in many soldier's eyes. They hadn't seen demon attacks here in years, Serena knew. 

Patrick was still in a bad mood, anxious inside his excessive scarves, robes, and headgear covering every inch of his body. Berry was no better, grumpy for having to wake up so early. When they were outside, she left to fight with the militia. 

Before she left, a shadowy figure in an alley gestured to her, and she stomped over, kicking up clouds of dust. They spoke, and Serena saw an exchange of coins before Berry left. She frowned, wondering what Berry was up to. Their conversation from the night before floated to the forefront of her mind. Maybe she didn't have as much control over these characters, this world, as she'd previously thought. 

They saw Lord Tyrus only once, as he swept past them fully suited with the rest of the militia. Over dust-red robes, they were sheathed in armor-suits, black and sharp and hard. With a jolt Serena noticed the silver swords they wielded. 

Serena had added less medieval first; the swords had been Magpie's idea. It looks so much cooler! she insisted. Who fights demons with a machine gun?

Serena had bitten her lip to suppress a smile; the walls of her apartment were paper-thin, and if she made any noise her neighbor would glare at her the next day. It's impractical, she'd typed, tapping red nails against the computer keys in thought. They have future tech, why would they use swords? 

After a few seconds, Maggie's reply had appeared: Just make up some bullshit about how guns can't pierce demon flesh. 

Serena had shrugged and added it into her world-building document. Oddly, seeing the swords now gave her a small sense of reassurance. It meant she really did control this world and everything in it. And that meant she knew it, and she could find her way out. 

Lord Tyrus paused near them only to advise them to take shelter. "Many of the civilians are sheltered in that building," he said, pointing. "I advise you to take shelter." His eyes held Serena's. "I hope you were right about us defeating them, seer," he said, grim. 

I hope so too, Serena didn't say.

He smiled— she didn't know how he could be smiling, but he was the kind of man who was always trying to raise his men's spirits. "I'd like to get to know you better, seer," he said. "Perhaps after the battle." 

Serena tried to stammer a response, but Tyrus was already gone, shouting orders at the militia. 

That left her and Patrick alone. But then he left too: "I should go to the medic's. They'll need help," he said.

"Won't they recognize you?"

He shook his head emphatically. "I'm keeping my scarf on."

A faint unearthly scream interrupted their conversation. It seemed to come from everywhere at once, making the floor underneath them vibrate and the hairs on Serena's arm crawl like there were ants on her skin. 

"Let's go." Patrick grabbed her arm and started running away, deeper into the village.

But she pulled back. "Wait. I'd like to be around to see the battle."