Heather hated commotion.
Heather hated chaos.
Heather hated destruction.
Why she decided to partner with the most destructive man she had ever met still astonished her. She stood there in utter amazement as the man she was trying to help led her out of the big square nest and into a mess of chaos. A few men wearing silver helmets and yellow tunics covering chainmail shirts suddenly came running into the marketplace, swords at the ready. Flashes of unnatural color darted everywhere as robed bystanders leapt away from the cluster of armed guards. However, just as the guards entered the scene, they fell at the mercy of a raving lunatic with a large silver club.
Heather stood frozen a fair distance from the commotion, watching as intently as a lonely tree. Standing alongside the dirt-splattered, wild rifle-wielder was a fair skinned man with an equally wild grin on his face. Heather watched in unbelief as the man with blonde hair and strikingly blue eyes suddenly disappeared and then reappeared, still grinning as if the whole fight were just a game. Three more guards joined the scene along with a man in dark armor.
Heather took her attention away from the fight which had migrated ever so slightly toward her. Engle wasn't next to her. Heather looked back and...yes of course. Engle had joined the fight.
Heather stayed rooted where she was. As five more guards suddenly appeared, four dropped to the ground. Heather could hear the cries of the guards in acute detail. A sickening feeling filled her stomach as ten more guards poured from all ends of the marketplace, replacing the ones that lay strewn about the dust covered floor. Suddenly Engle's weapon of ultimate destruction gave another sickening crack and another guard fell to the ground. Blood the color of ripe bunchberry flecked the dusty earth.
More guards came and fell in the same general pattern. Guards would attempt to take one of the three men of destruction, the dirty man with the long hair braids would hit one over the head with a whack, the blonde one would slice another with a flash of metal and Engle would either kill them with his awful booming weapon or kick one to the ground. Eventually, Engle got hold of the big silver weapon the tall, suntanned man had and started using it as a thunder weapon.
Just when Heather thought the pandemonium couldn't get any worse, Engle suddenly fell. Not long later the blue-eyed man was taken down with him. The dark-skinned man morphed into a good sized rook before her eyes and tried to fly away before being caught in the firm grip of a blood-splattered guard. Heather wanted to move and help, but there was no use. The six men left standing disarmed Engle, caged the raven and pinned the blonde man to the ground. It wasn't long before all three troublemakers were dragged somewhat unconscious from the bloody scene.
Just before they traveled out of Heather's sight, she followed the bloody parade, careful to not look suspicious of stalking. Just as Heather was about to escape the bloody remains of the battle scene, Heather could hear the sudden wail of a mother in anguish. Heather turned around to look one last time at the piles of silver, yellow and red.
There they were, the families in tears, the distressed merchants, the horrified looks frozen onto the faces of innocent human children...
They were the mourners of fallen daisies.