Chapter 1: Chapter 1: Smoke And Fire

The year 1763

Location: Beiniholm (A small village on the outskirts of Iceland)

The smell of burning flesh and ash filled Magnus's nose. The sight of the blood-filled ocean embedded in his mind as the corpses increased in number. Houses, ships and taverns went up in flames. He stood up from the small corner he was hiding in and ran towards the town centre. The smell of blood and flesh only intensified. A group of black and red uniformed soldiers with weapons came toward him.

When he was certain they hadn't spotted him, he turned to his left and into the open field. He ran as fast as he could, trampling over the bodies of dead children and women. He spotted the large cottage house at the end of the large field and thanked the Gods that his house was spared. He pushed back his red hair as his golden eyes caught a glimpse of his mother standing by the window. The night was almost over.

The dark, purplish, smoked-filled sky turned brighter, welcoming dawn as it drew close. He rushed up the front steps of his house and barged through the door, where he was greeted with hsi mother's torn dress on the ground and her kneeling with nothing but her undergarments on. A hunting knife was pressed at her pale throat. Tears, both old and new, streamed down her face. Her crimson hair was dragged back by a man in the same black and red uniform as the ones he evaded. "Magnus, leave!" His mother screamed, horrified by his appearance. All the young boy could do was stand there like a statue, and stare ahead in shock. His mother's cries continued to echo around the house as the soldiers did unspeakable things to her.

A million different dark thoughts went through the sheltered sixteen-year-old boy's mind, but as soon as the pale, bald uniformed man slit his mother's throat ear to ear, that was when he finally snapped. Without a moment of hesitation, Magnus grabbed his late father's hunting rifle and started shooting without aim. The soldiers who were focusing on his mother, were now focusing on him. he hit two uniformed men in the head before reloading and shooting aimlessly again.

The soldiers yelled before firing their weapons. Magnus was able to dodge, cutting corners in the dark house and running up the stair to his bedroom. He locked the door, the soldiers firing their weapons. Magnus fired back, but the gun made a clicking noise, indicating that he was out of bullets. He looked at the window that seemed to be miles away and decided to head for it, but before he could reach it, his bedroom door bursts open and the uniformed men opened fire at close range. The bullets hit his body at tenacious speed, not allowing his brain to process what was happening.

When his body finally hit the ground and he lay in his pool of blood, did his brain register that their time was up and that he'll join his mother up there soon. He could barely make out the words that were coming out of the soldiers' mouths, but they sounded french. They shoved his body to the side, not caring in the slightest about his pain. His eyes bearly focused on the puckle gun they placed by his window. The window had the best view of the nursery, and Magnus could only pray that the children went out quickly.

With one last strangled breath, Magnus's soul finally left his body and his life was now gone. 

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