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Dakkar never thought he'd see the familiar fields he grew up in again, least of all under these circumstances.
It still felt like home, all the wheat growing in the fields, the birds that Frumpkin liked to chase chirping quietly in the trees and the crickets in the fields.
The moon was new and concealed by clouds. Good. There would be no judgement from the heavens.
He once longed to return home to his family as a graduate of the Soltryce Academy, for them to know he had done them proud by being handpicked to become Volstrucker, serving the Empire at the highest level.
That was before he knew they were traitors.
Astrid and Wulf were by his side, his beloved shadows. It was a marvel watching them dispatch their own traitorous families with ease, and if they were troubled by it, he couldn't tell.
"Come, little spark," The voice of Master Itzal echoed in his mind, gentle and scholarly. "Between you and me, you show the most promise out of your group. If the others can do it, it shall be easy for you."
The small cottage that Dakkar once called home came into view, the smell of Chazira's warm stew bubbling away at the fire reaching him as he caught a glimpse of his mother sat down at the worn table that was old when he was born for dinner, the family cat, Frumpkin, curled up in the place Dakkar once occupied.
The scene was peaceful and normal, and Chazira Ermendrud did not seem like a traitor at all.
Despite his better judgement, Dakkar was briefly taken back to his childhood, nostalgia overwhelming him.
That was his mother in there. The same woman who had cried when he left, but told him to go and make her proud anyway. The woman who patched up all his bruises and scrapes and loved him no matter what.
Dakkar froze briefly, eyes wide with fear. He couldn't do that to his mother.
But she was a traitor.
Itzal had shown him the proof personally, talking to him with a kind hand on his shoulders, apologising for this tragic news. He remembered the feelings of knowing his mother had committed treason against the Dwendalian Empire, the one entity every Volstrucker loved and served above all. The disbelief that faded into a bitter acceptance, and then a fiery rage. He clung to that, drowning out the doubt in his heart with an unwavering devotion to the Empire.
For all he cared, Dakkar's family was the Empire, and Itzal, and Astrid and Wulf. Chazira Ermendrud was just another traitor, another name to strike off the list, another job.
Dakkar closed his eyes and looked back at the house with determination in his eyes. Time to do what must be done.
The air was dry and still, and the cottage was mostly wood, perfect kindling.
He nodded to Astrid and Eadwulf and they sealed every possible exit to the house with long wooden beams fused into the walls.
The spell to create flame was one of Dakkar's favourites, the one he relied on most.
It was highly effective in combat, and he would use it during drafty winters at Itzal's, lighting a small fire to keep the people he loved warm as they gave up studying late into the night, eventually curling up by the fireplace in one another's arms, buried beneath one of their blankets.
Now it will end the life of a traitor.
Dakkar pressed his hands together and drew together all the required components to summon fire.
The metal and stone began to melt and crack as the wood and thatching began to burn, the smoke stinging Dakkar's eyes.
All it took was a small spark to set the place ablaze, lighting up the night like a star on earth.
The flames rose higher and higher, taking the cottage piece by piece.
Dakkar watched dispassionately as the place he once called home burned in front of him, feeling the warmth within as Astrid and Wulf took his hands.
Thank all the gods that existed for them. Dakkar didn't know what kind of Volstrucker he'd be without them.
Then Chazira started screaming and Frumpkin started clawing at the windows as the flames began to burn them both, their clothes and fur catching alight like leaves on the wind.
He didn't register the screams at first, ignoring them in favour of the grounding presence of the people he loved more than anything except the Empire.
Then he looked up as the front door burned and crumbled to ash, revealing the fire and flame consuming his mother. Her clothes and hair were aflame and her tears sizzled away as they fell into the flames burning her skin.
She saw him through the embers, the ash and the smoke, her eyes wide in horror and fear.
Dakkar's thoughts began to swim as his mother locked eyes with him, his heart freezing between one beat and the next.
Does she recognise me?
He thought he could see Chazira say his name in confusion and desperation.
Astrid and Eadwulf squeezed his hands tighter, knowing how he was wavering, fracturing under this stress.
The trio had stayed up all night when Itzal had embedded the Residuum into their arms, making them ever more powerful and named them Volstrucker, talking and making promises between the three of them.
Stronger together, they had sworn, relying on one another as comrades and comforts.
But Dakkar was breaking as he watched his mother burn, all the training and lessons flying out the window as it was a bridge too far.
What am I? He thought to himself, his mother's pained, horrified expression searing itself into his mind.
I am Volstrucker, a servant of the Empire and right hand to Archmage Itzal. He thought, but it rang hollow and false. Why would he grieve a known and flagrant traitor so? Why would guilt seize his heart, even if the traitor was supposedly family? Why would he waver?
I am a monster, burning my family alive like this. He couldn't be… His mother was a traitor, disobeying the Empire and committing treason. He was just doing his job.
The flames grew higher as Dakkar lost control of himself and his own magic, almost touching the night sky.
He didn't notice when he dropped to his knees, when he burned Astrid and Wulf by accident, he was completely breaking apart, splintering into ashes and embers, like his former home.
Dakkar, Astrid and Eadwulf remained there for hours, until the flames consumed the house, his mother, Frumpkin, the furniture, everything, leaving a pile of ashes in its wake as the dawn broke and Dakkar finally ceased summoning flame, his magical reserves completely and totally spent.
His two loves carried him home, comforting him as much as they could, praying he would be alright.