Their group of two turned to eight and quickly dropped to six, but they had come too far to return. His footprints in the sand had been wiped away many days ago, but Kanu could not forget the way back to the cave. After witnessing the death of one of their own, the prisoners did not argue or question where they were going. They did not trust Kanu, but they had no choice knowing they would be killed. If not by Kanu and Hassian then by the woman with the fiery hair. Spotting the stones that hid the cave Kanu picked up the pace.

“Wait, we need to plan,” Hassian stopped him as they drew closer.

“What is the point of planning if we do not know what we will be facing,” Kanu asked.

“Then allow us to rest, and prepare for a fight.”

While others prepared, Kanu chose to take a brief nap. Part of him hoped that the voice would come to him again. It had guided him away from home, and began this journey. He was hoping the constant presence in his life would have something to say about his upcoming battle. He did not speak the same language, but he was leading these people. Hassian spoke, but he spoke based on what Kanu had told him. Sleep didn’t come, the voice didn’t come. Kanu was left alone with the darkness and his own thoughts. When the others were ready, he led the way without pause, or words to motivate them.

Inside the cave he knew he had chosen the right place based on the wall markings. There was no child here waiting for him this time. He walked deeper into the cave, unsure of where he was going, following a grinding sound. Hassian produced a lamp when the moonlight no longer lit the way. Soon they entered a large chamber with tunnels leading in several different directions. There was no debate of which way to go as children began to appear from each tunnel speaking in several different languages.

“We invited you in you kill,” one of the children spoke in Kanu’s language.

The child came forward, the same feeling prior crept over Kanu’s body as the children approached. He was not the first to strike a child. One of the prisoners took a wild swing at one of the children. As if synchronized the children went into a rage. The assegai had been Kanu’s most valuable weapon but the space as too tight to use it now. Instead he used his sword. He had thought of killing and how it would feel many times on this journey. Deep down he knew one day he would have to kill a person; either in war or in self-defense. He hadn’t considered it would be a child. As he dodged feral swipes of claw like hands he couldn’t bring himself to attack the child. As more children entered the room Hassian’s shouting was a reminder, these were not children. They were simply the bodies of children long gone, their souls left this world long ago. Kanu stepped to the side, thrusting his blade into the back of one of the children. The child’s pale body slid from his blade and crumpled to the ground. There was nothing of the child’s death. He didn’t pause for more than a few seconds before rejoining the battle. Thinking of them as corpses made it easy for him to land killing blows. They had numbers but there was no skill to their fighting. Yet, the numbers were massive, almost never ending.

Several of the children were larger, brandishing weapons, more skilled. Kanu made these his target, the prisoners were vicious but they were not skilled. A female wielding a sword similar to Hassian’s. Her movements were not as graceful as his, more forceful and aggressive. It was easy for Kanu to get near and slash at her throat causing her to drop. An arrow zoomed by his head penetrating the skull of the still moving body. Kanu could not spot the fiery haired woman but it was good to know she was watching his back. Kanu moved on, a large male wielding a spier with no point, focused on bashing attacks. He was more agile than the woman but his attacks were few and far between. Kanu chose to land blows on his weapon until he was able to cut through it, slicing through the abdomen as well. Before Kanu could search for his next opponent he felt something sharp dig into his back. He turned to spot a child with a bloody dagger; no doubt the source of his pain. Despite the injury Kanu made quick work of the child.

The wound was nothing, Kanu could fight through pain. But his vision was fading, and breathing became laborious. The dagger had been poisoned, something he did not expect. Had the necromancer poisoned the weapons because he was afraid? There had been warriors who trained their bodies on small doses of poison so that they could continue fighting. Their ferocity would surprise their opponents. Kanu continued to fight, taking out several children even as it became hard to move his limbs. Alas, Kanu was not one of these warriors and just as it appeared that there was a path towards victory, he fell to his knees. Attempting to lift his body back to his feet was no use. Nobody noticed when Kanu fell to the ground. He attempted to push himself to his feet again, but his arms could not support his body. Even if he managed to stand, he could barely see. The moonlit chamber had become pure darkness for him. Even if he could see, each breath was as if he was being stabbed with the dagger a dozen times.

“You have forsaken me,” the words that last words that left Kanu’s mouth. They were not meant for any Gods he had prayed to nor the people fighting alongside him. For his entire life Kanu had only been able to depend on himself; his mind, determination and his body. Yet now, his body refused to move. His body had forsaken him.