It was in the silence of a cool, moonlit night that only the chirps of crickets could be heard before the echo of the warning bells arose a panicked village, still groggy from sleep.

The villagers made their way to the lake's shore, their thin arms carrying their most valuable possessions, vital to their survival. The boats made of the local timber crowded the shoreline. The rush of people hurriedly clambered onto the boats. Smoothly, the boats glided across the lake, sending ripples across the mirror like water-surface. The boats made their way swiftly, just as the soldiers, mounted high on horseback, stormed the deserted village.

The village's former occupants started, open-eyed, as the archers drew back their bows, a flaming arrow notched in place and released the strings tension to send a volley of arrows into the thatched roofs. A cloud of smoke rose to the sky, blocking out the moon. They watched with a mixture of awe and disappointment as their former home disappeared behind a thick wall of fog.

It was no longer a surprise for the soldiers to storm their homes. In fact, it was amazing that this home had lasted so long. The kingdom's nobles were after someone, the people played a game of hiding and seek and it would not be long until one would be found.

Slowly, the villagers drifted away, vanishing silently into night's curtain.