Flight from Glandledale

                                    

                                          


                          
            
                          


                          
The blood in Alf's veins ran cold, and an image of Carlos's destroyed town square filled his mind.
                          
"The blood oaths?" the vice champion asked as he turned to look at the out of breath champion. "What are—"
                          
"Are you certain?" Drake asked, overriding the vice champion.
                          
Zaphaniea sucked down another lung full of air and snapped, "Would I have half killed myself getting here if I wasn't?"
                          
Drake nodded. "Well then, we need to leave at once."
                          
As the gruesome images from Carlos permeating his mind and fear threatened to overtake Alf, the ancient words rose in his heart, 'For God hath not given me the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.' Grabbing a hold of the words, he pushed aside the terror rising in him and strengthened his resolve. Now was not the time nor place for fear.
                          
"No,' he spoke up, his tone wavering. "We need to stay and prepare to fight."
                          
Drake and Zaphaniea turned to stare at him as if he had lost his mind. 
                          
"Think about it," Alf said. "There are hundreds of skilled fighters right now. We can take them."
                          
"Fat chance. There's three of them and they have an army!" Zaphaniea exclaimed.
                          
Olivia's eyes grew wide as Zaphaniea said the word army. "An army? Then what about the people in the city?"
                          
The grand champion threw her arms up in frustration. "Dragon spit if I know, and I'm not sticking around to find out either. We need to go! Now! They'll be here in fifteen minutes tops."
                          
The eldest of the three sisters laid her hand on Zaphaniea's shoulder, and the frantic champion seemed to calm down a bit. "Now think calmly, are your certain running is the best course of action?"
                          
"Of courses it is. We get massacred if we don't."
                          
That's right, Alf thought. Zaphaniea can see the future. "Wait," he said. "How come you didn't see this coming?"
                          
"I am not all knowing," she said in irritation, tossing her hair behind her head. "And I don't have time to explain that right now. Let's get out of here!"
                          
"I'm not going anywhere," the vice champion said, reasserting himself back into the conversation and stepping forward. "If someone's attacking my arena, they will have to go through me."
                          
Zaphaniea rolled her eyes, and Olivia frowned. "Your arena?"
                          
"Ya, his arena. His father is the owner and he's his son. No one is supposed to know that, and that's why he wears that stupid mask."
                          
"It's not stupid! It's fashionable and cool." 
                          
"Whatever, it's stupid and ugly," Zaphaniea spat and turned to Alf, grinding her heels in the grass. "Let's go already." She glanced back at the warrior in green. "You can stay mysterious vice champion if you want. I hope you have a nice funeral." 
                          
Alf looked from Zaphaniea to the vice champion. Zaphaniea said if they stayed they'd be massacred, but she'd also just said she wasn't all knowing, which meant there might be a chance. Alf closed his eyes. The sound of thousands of voices echoed above him from the stands, and the sound of laughing children penetrated his ears. In the natural, maybe they were right. Maybe they should run, but...if there was a chance... He straightened his back. 
                          
"I'm not going either," he said. "There's tens of thousands of people in this arena, and if we leave there's no telling what might happen to them."