It happened quite quickly. Not slow and tortured but needless to say it was not pleasant.
I knew who had come to murder my father and my family (including me) after that.
Xanthia ( the country where I was from) had lost the war and now KingsElton (the opposite country) was beginning a massacre. Of all the soldiers who had participated in the war.
The worst part was that my father was no general or had even fought at the front. He was like a footman and did not even see one battle. Xanthia had lost the war before he got the chance.
But because he lived with his family, which included his mother, wife and five children, near the border or barracks we of course would face death first before all the others.
So my father decided to hide atleast his children safely in the cellar so that they could escape. My mother and my grandmother's survival was a matter of chance and he was surely going to die.
The troop came late evening, 3 weeks after the defeat. There was one very old General, who rode on a skeleton of a horse and he seemed he would wither away but the malice in his eyes was obvious. Near him was a handsome you man, who wore the cloak of a Dark Mage and seemed a little disturbed when the soldiers behind them, whose faces were masked, shot down a poor old man who tried to run across the path.
Then they reached my home. My father took me, my two younger sisters and two elder brothers downstairs and into the cellar. It was littered with all old dirty stuff, and reeked of rat **** but it was our only place to hide.
After that my father went upstairs and me and my sibling hid and waited for the gunshot to come, the one that will kill our father and we would run away.
The plan failed of course