by Bill Albert
Luvin looked down and away. He was torn between his love for her and the knowledge that what she was saying was right.
Gallif quickly went and pounded on the chains with her flame sword. Once they were all broken, she returned to her friend.
“Trust me on this, Luvin,” she said standing close enough to whisper in his ear.
He kissed her on the cheek. For a moment he rested his head against hers and then turned and quickly walked away. He made sure the dragon knew every move he would make and climbed on to its back with his hands held tight on the metal brace. He did not look back at her and carefully guided the dragon to the opening and ducked close enough to the body to clear the exit.
“Luvin, the dragon rider,” she said as she looked out to the brightening sky. “Let the legend begin.”
She paused, took a breath of fresh air, and then started walking.
The cave was curved, but fairly smooth, and she could travel easily with the light of torches placed along the wall. She could keep her flame sword at her side without the light drawing to much attention.
She made it to the first turn and stopped as her senses alerted her to something approaching. She was confused at first, but then put a hand to the wall and picked up the vibration. She leaned into the wall and held on when the tremor hit. It was an incredibly violent tremor that brought down rocks from the walls and ceiling. She fought to stay standing and kept her sword and hands over her head to prevent herself from being hit. As quickly as it started the tremor stopped.
She had taken a face full of dust and couldn’t help but cough and gasp to clear her lungs. She took a few deep breaths and held the last one as the sound of something else coughing caught her attention. She listened carefully and realized the sound was coming from someplace in front of her. Some of the torches were now down and it was much darker, but she didn’t want to use her flame sword and reveal herself yet. She pulled the twelve-inch knife from its place and moved forward.
As she made the turn in the cave she found that there had been a considerable rock fall in this area. The coughing came from beneath some debris and as she approached, she saw three aquilus trapped under the rocks. Two were already dead, crushed by the boulders, and the third was coughing as it tried to free itself. Gallif approached it quickly and held the knife high to destroy it before it saw her and alerted anyone to her presence. It was facing away and hadn’t heard her approach, so a single strike would finish it off immediately. She paused briefly and chose where she would kill the beast.
She looked at the blade and was surprised to see it shaking. She looked down at the elf trying to free itself and wanted to kill him but held her position. He was evil, she knew that, and thought that destroying him would be the right thing. How many innocent people had he killed? How many innocent elves had she killed? Or was there just one that had fallen from Gallif’s hands to her death?
Suddenly the elf realized she was there and turned to look at her. They made eye contact and she was reminded of the face of the elf that Tome had been holding captive in the farm near Atrexia so long ago. There was a wildness in the face of this elf, like the other, and for a brief moment she felt the hatred it threw at her. She blinked and then looked back at the doomed elf and stared into its eyes. For the first time in a thousand years someone wondered if there was something other than evil in the elf’s mind. It was chaos she saw, she was sure of that, but could there be something else? Could it be confusion?
She was about to turn away when the elf stopped coughing and looked carefully down at himself. She looked closer and saw the damage done by the crushing stone was total. She had seen this type of injury before in people trapped in caves and knew how it would end. The legs had been crushed so completely that the body felt no pain. She knew there was no way for the elf to survive. As the elf realized that as well, he started to let out a low whine.
He tried to pull himself away and in panic the whine started to turn in to a howl of terror. With a single thrust she ended his suffering.
She remained staring at the dead body for a moment and then pulled the knife away. She looked at the elf’s lifeless body and shook her head. Despite what she now knew of their true nature she could still not bring herself to feel sorry for it.
She moved carefully forward and before long she came into the final stretch of the tunnel. The closer she got the more she could hear and soon could pick up the distinct voice of Zaslow giving orders to someone. The responses were the distinct grunts of orcs and she estimated there were three or four of them. Then she heard another voice that she didn’t recognize. It was human, she could tell, but could not identify who it was until she heard references to casting. She believed that this was the other assistant she had seen before when Zaslow appeared at the temple.
She entered the tunnel that led to the inner sanctum of Zaslow’s domain. The area was fifty feet in diameter with various natural alcoves along the walls. Some of them were lit by weak torches, but none of them were occupied. Instead there were small piles of potion bottles and glass jars and other items used in casting. Six of the alcoves were protected by heavily armed orc warriors. These orcs wore chain mail body armor and helmets.
The center of the room was a crater thirty feet in diameter with the floor another four feet down. On the far side the other robed acolyte was engrossed in studying a book with characters dancing in the air above it. Though he was facing in her direction his attention was completely centered on his reading and he did not notice her. In the center was the largest crystal she had ever seen. It was a brighter shade of colors than the focus crystals in the dragon’s cave and four times their size. The crystal emanated a light source of its own and the interior was filled with colorful sparkles and lines of light. She had no doubt it was the source crystal she had been informed off.
Before it stood Zaslow. His back was to her and the green tint of his armor was unmistakable. She had never seen or even heard of armor this powerful before and only hoped she could penetrate the defenses.
She did not take long before deciding how to proceed. She mentally inventoried everything she carried with her and then started walking.
Gallif was almost to the edge of the crater when the orcs barked at her in warning and started coming forward. They jumped over the rim and four took up a position between herself and Zaslow while the remaining two stood to protect the acolyte. The acolyte did not react at all and Zaslow slowly turned to face her.
She now stood on the crater’s edge staring at him and him alone. In her right hand, held from her body at arm’s length, was the flame sword she had fought with since she discovered it in the backpack. In her left hand, also held at arm’s length, was the frost sword she had found in the cabin. Like the other sword this one was cast, but instead of the orange flame, this one emitted the icy cold white light of frost. Either one of them was a formidable weapon, if handled properly, and together they were incredibly powerful.
The orcs bellowed and howled as even they knew the danger they were facing. Zaslow was confident enough not to be concerned with whatever weapons she had but readied himself for a tougher fight than he had expected.
The four orcs directly in front of her came towards her menacingly. Each had a long sword at the ready and brandished it to show their strength. She took some satisfaction in the fact that, despite their bluster, they were approaching slowly and not with the usual orc stampede.
One of the orcs finally rushed forward to attack and she parried the blow upward with her flame sword and followed with a strike from below with the frost sword. She hit its right side hard and the wound the flame made was instantly frozen solid. It howled in shock and pain as she brought the flame sword back and struck its left side just as hard. Before it could react from the pain, she finished it off with a piercing strike to the chest.
The three remaining orcs stumbled back and glanced at each other quickly and she knew that she had introduced them to fear. One of the orcs, the largest and stronge
st, pushed the other two forward to attack, but stayed behind them.
She stepped far to the left and deflected several swings from one orc with the flame sword. The orc parried her attacks but failed to see her cutting in from the side with the frost sword. Her aim was off and even though she failed to cut its hand she hit it broadside. The orc’s entire body shivered as its hand froze around the handle of the sword. In its anger it lost its reluctance and came swinging with quick, powerful strokes. Though more powerful the orc’s pain and anger made its attack less precise. She prevented it from hitting her but failed to do any more damage to it.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw the other two orcs trying to circle around her. She tried to impale the orc she was fighting in a quick move. She knew the attempt would fail, but it forced the fighter to take a few steps back and she turned on the pair. She arched each sword outward as wide as she could, and the mixture of colors distracted them briefly allowing her to put a slice on each of their arms. She crossed the thrust of the swords and each orc suddenly had an arm both frozen and heated at the same time. The pain was excruciating and one completely dropped his long sword. She took advantage of its loss and made three hard strikes to its stomach. It collapsed to the ground, out of the combat.
She looked back to see the orc with the frozen hand run at her and swing wildly at her feet. She jumped and the swing passed beneath her, but as she came down, the last orc followed with another low attack. The blade caught her knee hard and she fell back to the ground. As fast as she could she pushed herself away and scrambled to get to her feet. The orcs were approaching rapidly, but as she looked up, movement behind them caught her attention. Zaslow was staring intently in her direction and was casting. She rolled to her side and quickly moved out of the area as a fireball exploded where she had lain. It was small, only three feet in diameter, but very intense and she knew she would have been burnt to ashes had she remained there. The orcs were far enough away that they weren’t affected by the heat, but the shock wave from the blast threw one of them over the edge and out of the crater.
Gallif jumped to her feet and started running. She wanted to keep moving and hoped that putting the focus crystal between herself and Zaslow would give her more time. As she came around the crystal she realized there had been an unexpected side effect from the fireball. The ground was shaking rather badly, and cracks had spread from the area.
The two orcs who had protected the acolyte left their positions and came toward her. She cursed as she realized the acolyte had moved and she now had no idea where he was.
These two orcs were not afraid and came at her ready for combat. They tried to circle her, and she took several steps to one side to prevent them from separating. To her surprise they held back a few feet away from her. They were close enough to strike, but for some reason they held back and took very slow swings to her right side. It took her a moment of easily pushing their weapons away with hers before she realized what was going on. Her back as only a few inches away from the source stone and they were trying to herd her away. They didn’t want to damage the stone.
She took a tight grip on both her swords and thrust back striking the stone with the hard-wooden handles. The orcs howled and barked and came forward with their weapons jabbing directly at her. She didn’t have time to see if she had done any damage, but she put one foot against the stone and kicked herself high and over. She flew fast enough that the orcs didn’t realize what was happening and she managed to elbow them each as she passed and knocked their helmets clean off.
When her feet hit the ground, she spun back with both swords on the same path towards one orc’s neck. The effect of the burning blade cutting first followed directly by the contact of the freezing blade killed the orc instantly.
She was facing one orc now but saw Zaslow coming around the crystal. Even though he had another poleax, larger than the first with a six-foot handle and two-foot blade, he was speaking and walking determinedly at her. She circled the orc she was close to hoping to keep it between her and Zaslow and avoid a casting. Their weapons locked and the orc pushed forward so they were suddenly shoulder to shoulder. She pushed against it and it howled and spat at her. It was close enough that the howl was deafening, and she jerked back. She knew Zaslow was getting closer. To end the stalemate she twisted her leg behind the orc and pushed forward. The orc fell to ground knocking Zaslow off his stride.
She turned to run but found the orc with the frozen hand directly in her path. She advanced on it and kept taking rapid, but careful, jabs at it. Finally, the frost sword glanced against its forehead and it jerked back in pain. She swung in hard with the flame sword and completely shattered the frozen hand. The orc howled and withdrew. It was not dead, but it fell to ground in pain and started to crawl away.
As she looked up she saw the acolyte. He was in one of the alcoves and was grabbing some glass vials off of the shelves. She sprinted as fast as she could and, using the crawling orc’s back as a launch pad, she catapulted out of the crater towards the alcove.
The acolyte did not see her coming and she collided with him at full speed. Together they went into the shelves and fell to the floor taking bottles and bags of casting components with them. As she landed, she saw several bottles filled with the dull black powder that nullified the casting on an item. She looked down as the acolyte was rising and pulling a glowing dagger from his cloak. Holding the swords in one hand she hurled a glass bottle at the man. The glass shattered, cut his wrist, and scattered the powder to take the casting away leaving the dagger as a steel blade. She grabbed another bottle of something she didn’t recognize and used it to smash the acolyte in the face. She couldn’t tell if the powder had changed him, but the shattered glass cut his face and he was bleeding profusely. She grabbed another bottle, making sure it was the black dull powder, and blindly threw it towards Zaslow. One of the two remaining orcs was on its feet and split the bottle with its sword as it passed overhead. The bottle and the powder fell harmless to the ground.
The other orc had also left the crater and was approaching. She ran towards it with a sword in each hand. She crossed the distance quickly and managed to put the crystal between herself and Zaslow. Gallif and the orc spent several very long minutes in frantic combat. The orc scored with a direct blow to her shoulder that cut her deeply and she started a steady bleed. She almost dropped the flame sword but forced the pain out of her thoughts and parried several blows.
She glanced to the alcove that the acolyte was downed in and saw him fall again. At first she thought it was the handicap of being cut but then several of the upper shelves collapsed on him as well. The other orc was climbing up the edge of the crater but suddenly fell back inside. Before she knew it, the shockwave hit her, and the entire area shook for several seconds. Parts of the wall crumbled, and several large chunks of rock fell from the ceiling. One of them, nearly the size of a bucket, glanced against the source stone and shattered. Zaslow turned towards it and quickly started casting.
Gallif made several attempts to strike her direct opponent but it kept her blade at bay. It retreated and suddenly was off balance as its foot slipped into a newly formed crack. She decided to let it go for now and try to take on Zaslow while his attention was on the stone. She leapt off the edge of the crater and ran at Zaslow thrusting the flame sword forward only a few feet from him.
Then there was a great silence that fell over everything as all motion in the area stopped. Gallif could see Zaslow not ten feet in front of her. He was facing the colorful crystal and she was at his side but neither of them could move. The wounded orc was frozen in its crawl position on the floor. One of orc guards that had been sprinting towards her, weapon in hand, was also frozen and she could not see the remaining orc that was behind her. Finally, her attention fell to the acolyte that was standing just outside the alcove.
The acolyte stood and came towards her. He also used the wounded orc as a step to get into the crater and walked very slowly and deliberately makin
g sure his palm was facing her.
Gallif forced her mind to calm down and think about what she knew of this cast. She remembered being held before, but it was strangely different this time. She tried to look down at her weapons and felt her neck turn a fraction. It suddenly occurred to her that they weren’t held completely. They could still move but were slowed considerably. She knew that it did not last long and could break instantly and she willed it to leave her.
The acolyte went over to Zaslow and spoke an incantation. As he did, he held his hand open with the palm in Gallif’s direction. Zaslow could now move freely and blessed his acolyte for his action. The orc she could see started running again and she could hear the one behind her growling in anger as it came forward.
Zaslow did not even look at Gallif but continued casting on the source stone and walking around it as he did so. The acolyte’s attention was on Gallif only and stood in front of her.
Gallif tried to move every muscle in her body but could barely get any to respond. As long as he stood with his hand flat towards her she would be trapped. She screamed in frustration, but the sound could not leave her closed lips. She looked at the acolyte with hatred and resentment as he stood in the same spot where Zaslow had started casting. He stared back at her coldly and without him noticing she loosened her grip on the flame sword. She tried to look around the room to see if anyone had noticed her move. Her eyes stopped on a very small hole in the far wall. A hole that hadn’t been there before. A hole just big enough for a dragon with a star shape in its eye to look through.
Zaslow finished casting and smiled to himself as he looked up at the cracked ceiling. There was a slight orange glow above the stone now that Gallif recognized as a cast shield. The rocks would not hit the source stone anymore.
