Far away the canopy was ablaze and spreading, this orange and yellow beast leaping from tree top to tree top in the dark. Smoke was choking up the night sky. And the screaming. Faint but discernible. A mass dying was taking place in the village, where the elders and the non-hunters and the few children were there for their safety.

Her child.

A panic seized Ira’s chest.

“Go,” Pyrik said.

“My men have the situation handled from here,” added Cutter.

With the mother insectoid incinerating on the ground, Menov was free to run rampart on the smaller insectoids, playfully swatting and crushing the onslaught of murderous bugs. That stymied the assault of those chitinous beasts for the coordinated collective that were Hospitallers to shred through them with their calamitous weapons without getting overwhelmed. Wave after wave of lead met wave after wave of bestial bodies. Ira knew for certain that Pyrik and the Hospitallers had it handled.

Ira blew a piercing whistle, rallying her arachne to return to the village. Her stomach twisted tighter and tighter as she swung and jumped from tree to tree. The smoke grew thicker, choking every breath. The flames stood taller and brighter, straining her eyes. And when she returned to her village, her heart dropped. The whole village was on fire. Cauldrons of spider fire were shattered, its contents everywhere. Twisted bodies were smoldering on the ground, the fire unending. Those that were unscaved by the fire were mourning over the dead, unable to hold their bodies without getting burned themselves. Wherever the spider fire did not touch, the flames had commandeered the spider silk that criss-crossed up and down the trees to reach the village built into the canopy. Her home was getting consumed with flames, where her child resided.

“Try and search for any others that haven’t gotten down from the village,” Ira said as she climbed up a tree adjacent to her home.

The fire was intense, scalding without a tongue of flame touching her. Once Ira had climbed high enough, she saw the fire had burned through the roof of her home. In her panic she jumped down, braving the lashing flames, landing on a pile of ashened debris. She feared that the pod was crushed when the roof caved in, embryonic fluid bubbling from the immense heat, her child getting cooked from the inside. However, no debris managed to land on the cradle because shielding it was Elder Clarice, her body burned and crushed from the collapsed roof. A swell of tears rose in her chest but she choked it down. Mumbling a prayer for forgiveness, Ira removed the fallen debris, gritting her teeth as the smoldering wooden beams scalded her hands, and rolled Elder Clarice’s body off the cradle.

Her pod was safe, still swaddled in her blanket. Ira swept the pod into her arms and dashed out the door. The wooden door broke apart, and soon the floor turned into air as she bounded off the village. Trenches were dug into the tree bark as her appendages clung onto the trunk. Just in time too. The scaffolding that kept up the village was all charred up and snapped with the ease of twigs. The village came crashing down from the canopy, burning.

Ira could only hope that the villagers got out of the way as she descended from the tree.

“How is everyone?” She asked once she touched solid ground.

“Fine. None of the falling debris hurt anybody,” Feston, a hunter, said.

Some ash was stuck onto the pod. Ira brushed it off gently. “What happened here? Did any insectoids attack the village?”

“No, not an insectoid,” said Judith, the weaver with the divine hands that crafted her lovely tunic. “It was him! That Hospitaller! He destroyed a cauldron and the spider fire…” Her words trailed off into tears.

Ira looked at the body that Judith was glaring at. It was charred black, having been completely consumed with spider fire, looking more coal than human. “That… that can’t be. Captain Cutter… they… he offered us their help. They wouldn’t do something like this on purpose.”

“Look at our home, Ira!” Feston gestured to the smoldering wreck still burning at the base of the trees. “This is what we get for working with humans. We never should have trusted them!”

“What in the name of all creation happened here?” It was Captain Cutter, splattered in yellow blood, his saber pointed to the ground. The hunters drew their bows, arrows nocked and ready to fly into the Hospitallers. In response they raised their rifles. “Whoa, whoa! What is the matter?”

“One of your men burned down our village!” Feston snarled.

“Shut your lying mouth, you fucking beast!” a Hospitaller said.

“Is this true?” Cutter asked.

There were too many rifles, too few of their bows. Ira stepped up with a hand raised to show no harm. “I’m afraid so. They claim that one of your men ignited one of the cauldrons and caused this massive fire.”

“You’re taking their side now?” Feston spat at her.

“No I’m not,” said Ira, “I just want to resolve this peacefully!”

“I knew we couldn’t trust these beasts, Captain. We offered us their help, our brothers, and now they accuse us of going back on our word!” the Hospitaller shouted.

“Stand down, brother. Stand down! There must be some misunderstanding,” said Cutter, however, none of his men lowered their rifles.

Ira searched amongst the Hospitallers for Menov and Pyrik, wondering where they were. Pyrik was breathing heavily, a panicked look in her eyes, and Menov was trying to calm her down.

“Lower your weapons now!” the Hospitaller demanded.

“Come take it then, you detritus waste of life!” Feston called him.

“Stand down! That is an order!” Cutter commanded.

However, the order was either ignored or never heard. When Ira approached to speak to Cutter, the Hospitaller opened fire and shot her in the chest. Arrows flew, and more shots were fired.