by D E Boske
The great maw split open, yellow mucus dripping from its fangs. Shaggy, green hair covered its massive head. A thick, scaly hide covered its body and made it impervious to most attacks. The torso was the size of two large oak trees, and huge, powerfully muscled legs tore up the earth.
How had it gotten into the forest? She could feel the evil of it. It was palpable. Tynuviel had never seen anything like this before. She began to fire arrow after arrow, hoping to score a hit. They all bounced off harmlessly, the thick hide repelling the deadly attack. In a heartbeat, Plistin was beside her. They would face this evil together.
Meriac came bursting through the trees, blood dripping freely from a gash in his
ribs, His left arm hanging useless.
“Retreat! Get back! Get back!” he frantically yelled at them. “Our weapons are useless against this beast. We must get back to safety.”
Killini fired a volley of arrows; one buried itself deep in the creature’s left eye. The beast threw back its head, howling in agony, raking its claws in a wicked slash but the elf was too quick. Killini dove in a forward roll as the claws ripped the air above his head. He jumped up and started running. He spotted Tynuviel and saw that she was unharmed.
“Takasha! You’re alright,” he said. She let him take her arm and lead her away. They were
about thirty yards away from the walkways when Tynuviel noticed Genia break from cover. He was trying to catch up to them, but it was too late. The beast saw him. The monster almost squashed him with its huge, clawed appendage. Genia dodged at the last second.
“Genia hurry! You can make it!” cried Tynuviel as she ran toward him.
He was about five yards away, running recklessly when the beast swiped savagely with its claws. Genia seemed so tiny compared to this thing. The claws ripped through Genia as if he were paper, his blood spattered across Tynuviel’s face and body.
“No!” screamed Tynuviel.
Killini pulled her away as the tears streamed down her face. She could not believe he was gone, ripped apart right in front of her. She wanted to stop and fight this evil thing, but Killini dragged her along.
“We can’t help him now!” cried Killini. “We must keep moving. We’re almost there.”
She could not even see where she was anymore; her tears blurred her vision. Just ahead, the crystalline elven buildings were visible in the treetops. The monster roared in fury, flinging the lifeless form at the fleeing elves. The body hit a tree with a sickening wet sound, and Tynuviel screamed in rage.
Meriac stumbled and went down. Plistin rushed to his side, the monster closing fast.
“Leave me friend. You must save yourself,” said Meriac weakly. He had lost so much blood!
“Never! I will stay with you and fight ‘til my last breath,” said Plistin.
“Then you will surely die,” said Meriac, losing consciousness.
“I will not leave you, friend.” Plistin turned, firing his arrows as fast as he could, but they did no harm.
He picked up Meriac and started dragging him along, but it was slow going and the monster was reaching for them. The beast swung its arm in a downward stroke catching Plistin on the side, ripping him open and exposing bone. The elf screamed, but stumbled on. Killini shoved Tynuviel forward, turned, and ran back for the others.
“Plistin!” cried Killini, rushing up to help him. Then he saw Meriac, and his heart fell. “Plistin! Let him go! He’s dead! We must get to safety quickly.”
“No! He’s not dead. Have to… save him…” his breath came in ragged gasps, and Killini knew they would lose Plistin as well if they could not get him to the Shak Ta’ Ru; elven healers.
Upon hearing the war horn, Tyvale sent reinforcements to help. He hoped they would be in time. He also sent for the Ghinkar, the elven battle Mages. They would need powerful magic to defeat this enemy. He saw it in a vision. It was an ancient evil. He had gone to consult with
Kinistaya, the oldest elf among them, who had confirmed Tyvale’s worst fears.
The Dorgansi were as ancient as the elves. They were born in the Brish To’ Nah, the beginning, and sent forth in the Niv Dol’ Meh, the war of Faerie creatures against demons. What was one doing here now? They had all been banished to Ac Ti’ Loh, Oblivion.
He lifted up a prayer to Starshenna, hoping she would be with them during this difficult battle. Where are Kyler and his Shivvendari companion Darian? Tyvale thought.
Desperately, he wished that they were here, as the Mage was greatly respected in Kiri A’ Nouell. He truly was a powerful ally, and that staff! Tyvale had never seen anything like it. The ancient elven rune that crowned the staff and the milky orb within was a breathtaking sight. Tyvale had never seen another Mage staff equal to it. The others were plain in comparison.
The Ghinkar assembled on a circular walkway that surrounded a huge, ancient tree. In the thousands of years the elves had resided in the forest, their secure walkways remained intact. Retractable stairways climbed around the trees, rising ever higher in the forest canopy. In millennia, none had breached their security. However, the elves knew all things must pass from existence in due time.
The Ghinkai, the head of the battle Mages, was Kiriasti. He called them all together in a tight circle and bade them to link their power with him. They could see the Dorgansi approaching quickly. The border guard stood no chance against this monster.
Once joined, Kiriasti was in command of all their power. He sent forth a searing blast of lightning, scoring a wicked hit on the left wing of the monster and shredding it like paper. The beast howled in rage and agony, coming on in renewed fury.
Tynuviel could see the walkways now and knew she would be safe. She worried for Plistin, Meriac, and even Killini. Though they had their differences, they were still kin and kind. She could see Tyvale now, and she screamed his name frantically. Immediately, he called to Koria to lower the stairway. She met the reinforcements on her way to Tyvale and told them to go no further. She explained the battle briefly and told them the others were on their way.
Killini finally got through to Plistin and got him to release Meriac. “Can you run?” asked Killini.
“I think so,” answered Plistin.
“Go in front of me, and I’ll try to hold it off as long as I can.”
Suddenly, the sky seemed to rip apart as lightning tore through the heavens. It struck the beast in the left wing, rendering it useless. The beast swung about in a blind rage, missing Killini’s vulnerable head by scant inches. Killini felt the rush of air from the beast’s mighty swing and it persuaded him to run faster. They reached the stairway, and Koria pulled them up just as the
monster slashed at Killini with those wicked claws.
Even with one eye blinded by an arrow and his left wing useless, the Dorgansi would not give up. The beast kicked at the tree with its powerful legs, but the tree would not give. It did not even vibrate from the blow.
Kiriasti sent forth an arrow of fire to pierce the wicked beast in the breast. The smell of burning flesh rose in the early-morning air. Upon the elves’ return, he stopped the reinforcements. They could do nothing. Their only hope was the Ghinkar. They must not fail.
Kiriasti took out a blue orb from his robes. A very powerful weapon in its own right, but linked as they were, he wondered at its power.
He began to sing to it, and it grew brighter and brighter until it seemed the sun paled in comparison. He held the power in check, letting it build.
When the orb seemed on the verge of exploding, Kiriasti released the power. White-hot energy shot forth, enveloping the Dorgansi. The monster writhed and screamed, trying to get away, but the orb would not release it. The light was so intense the elves had to shield their eyes or become blind by it.
A scream, high and keening, pulled at their heartstrings, and when the light faded, the beast was gone. Disintegrated. However, one of the Ghinkar died as well. Too much power. It was Kiriasti’s youngest mage. It was also his daughter.
5
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br /> The day grew cloudy and overcast. Soon a steady drizzle began to fall. The Mage pulled his Shryvven, his Mage cloak, from his saddlebag and put it on, pulling the deep cowl over his head. It gave him a menacing look. The air crackled with the tension between the companions.
Kyler donned his fine, forest green cloak, pulling up the cowl to ward off the chill and the rain. Shaz was cursing loudly, about the weather, his companions and anything else in general. Darian, riding beside the elf began to chuckle. Shaz rode behind them and with the rain, he did not hear. Kyler shared a smile with his friend.
In rolled big black clouds, the drizzle turning to a deluge. The Mage made a small gesture, shielding him and Kyler from the worst of the storm. He did not even consider protecting Shaz.
They did not bother to stop at midday, deciding instead to keep moving, hoping to reach the much bigger town of Marubiel. It was a town of outlaws and cutthroats so they would have to be very careful.
Maybe we can pay someone to take Shaz off our hands, thought Darian with a wicked grin.
Darian only used his magic when they most needed it. It would not do to have an exhausted Mage in a battle. Magical creatures could feel the vibration in the Weave from spell
casting and it would attract undue attention.
It continued to rain throughout the day. Finally, they had to stop and rest the horses. The Kalishar River sliced across the vast expanse of land between Limmin and Marubiel before turning south to Kiri A’ Nouell. They could fill their waterskins and give their mounts fresh water.
They found shelter from the weather beneath a cluster of pines. Kyler went right to work on the horses, making sure that they had food and water, then he brushed them down. They dug a pit for a fire and soon had a nice size blaze going.
Outside, the rain showed no sign of letting up. They regrettably decided it would be best to wait out the storm. They removed their wet clothing, drying it on low hanging branches, and then sat before the fire warming their hands. They retrieved blankets from their saddlebags, which they had wrapped in well-oiled cloth to keep them dry. They sat around the fire, no one saying a word. Shaz was trying so hard not to look at the Mage that it was obvious. After a while, the silence became awkward.
“Shaz, what do you do?” asked Kyler, sincerely interested.
“Bounty hunter,” he replied.
“That’s a fine blade you carry,” Kyler said, admiring his sword.
“Thanks. I got it in Al-Dan-Tir. I bought it from the dwarves of Thunder Peak. People want elven or dwarven made blades much more than man forged steel. Few, however, can afford such a sword,” he replied.
The Mage did not enter the conversation. He would try to keep his promise to the elf. He removed himself completely. Taking a change of clothes out of his bags, he began to dress, apparently not ashamed of his nakedness. He donned a dark-red tunic stitched in gold thread and dark-blue pants of fine cut and make.
“Your friend over there sure thinks a lot of himself. Look how he dresses in all his finery,” said Shaz sarcastically.
“He’s deserving of it. He also deserves respect,” said the elf.
“Respect! From me? Never!” replied the bounty hunter acidly.
“You humans and your pride, it’s no wonder why your life span is so short. You burn yourselves out in hate and anger,” said Kyler without malice.
Shaz sighed, making a strangled sound. He was turning red like metal left in the forge fire too long. He was straining to keep himself calm.
“You are only proving my point. You have no reason to be so angry. I am merely
making an observation,” The elf said, a slight smile touching his face.
“You obviously are someone of character. How did you get mixed up with that fop any-
how?” asked Shaz, trying to pay the elf a compliment.
“That fop has saved my life several times. He is my friend,” stated the elf.
“Oh I see, two against one.”
“Are you so blind with pride you cannot see? No one is against you, except yourself. Can you not see he is a great ally? A Mage of The Order, do you not know what that means? Can you be that dense?” asked Kyler.
Shaz looked disappointed. He truly liked and respected the elf, but there were limits. The Mage was certainly well beyond his limits, so he kept his thoughts to himself.
Darian had moved off by himself to study the spellbook Shermin had given him. He had already read a good portion of it, Kyler noticed. The elf was glad they were friends. He would not wish to face off against the Mage. He was not altogether sure who would win.
“We should get on our spare clothes. These will not dry before morning,” the elf said, striding over to the saddlebags. He removed a finely stitched dark-green tunic and soft brown pants.
Shaz was lost in thought for some time, mulling over Kyler’s words. He pulled on a white linen shirt and black pants.
They decided to make a stew of fresh vegetables that they picked up in Limmin and Kyler caught a rabbit to add to the pot. They ate in silence, seated around the fire.
“If you’re so powerful, couldn’t you just blink us there or something?” Shaz asked of the Mage.
“It would be best to save my abilities until they are really needed,” replied the Mage without even looking up.
“Even the all-powerful Mage has limits,” Shaz retorted.
“Anytime you want me, I’m right here. I’ll not cower in a corner if that’s what you’re thinking,” said the Mage, riveting Shaz with those silvery grey eyes.
The bounty hunter stood and drew his sword, pointing it at Darian. As Shaz attacked, the Mage made a small gesture with his hands, and the blade went wide of the mark.
“Gonna’ hide behind your magic Mage? Or are you gonna’ fight like a man!” Shaz
roared angrily.
Kyler did not want to get involved; he believed Darian should teach this one a lesson. The Mage withdrew his staff and used it to block strike after strike from the bounty hunter. He whirled to the right, kicking out with his left leg and caught Shaz under the chin, dropping him instantly.
Pride is a funny thing. It overrules good common sense. Shaz got right back up, albeit a little shakily. He took his time, circling carefully, watching and waiting for the perfect moment.
“You do know how to use that thing. I was beginning to think it only ornamentation. Have you learned a lesson? Or do you want some more?” Darian asked with a laugh.
The elf could not help but smile. The remark had the desired effect. Shaz charged the Mage, but Darian had anticipated this and sidestepped out of the way. He brought his staff crashing down behind Shaz’ knees, and he dropped to the ground groaning.
The Mage turned his back on the fallen man, making his way back to Kyler. Shaz, thinking he had an advantage, charged the Mage, sword raised.
The Mage made no move to protect himself, and Shaz was in such a rage he didn’t stop to consider what this could mean. He brought his two-handed blade in a downward chop to cleave the smart-ass Mage in two.
It was as if the blade hit an iron wall. The blade vibrated so badly he had to let it go. His arms went numb from the force of the blow. The bastard called up a shield to protect himself! Shaz screamed his frustration.
“Listen you little imbecile!” the Mage roared, turning to confront Shaz. “You are no match for me! Stop this idiocy before I kill you! We should be working together. We are on the same side.” Darian had not even broken a sweat, but Shaz was drenched from the effort.
Shaz looked to the elf for support, but Kyler intently studied a patch of ground at his feet, paying them no mind. Shaz snatched up his fallen blade, limping over to seat himself on a rock jutting up from the earth.
Kyler and Darian left him to his thoughts. They sat alone by the fire and spoke in low tones.
“I’m sorry. I tried to keep my word, but this one makes it so difficult!” The Mage said heatedly.
“I know. Let us hope he has learned his lesson, but
somehow, I don’t think he has. I see fire in him and too much pride,” the elf remarked.
“So much for that warrior spirit. I’ll take the first watch. You get some rest.”
“Wake me for the second,” said the elf, ignoring the Mage’s comment.
Shaz did not move, and he still sat in the same position. Darian built up the fire, listening to the steady sound of the rain. He cast a simple ward around their camp and removed the small leather-bound tome he received from Shermin and began studying it intently. He possessed an opaque stone that glowed brightly, which helped him to read in the growing darkness. The words and symbols that decorated the pages were very familiar to him. He had learned all forms of the elven tongue in Piri-Tuma, though it was not part of his studies. There was not a Mage in Piri-Tuma that could teach it anymore.
When he last visited Kiri A’ Nouell, he studied with the Ghinkar. They actually taught each other. Kiriasti was a powerful mage in his own right, but they both knew instantly that Darian was the stronger. The Ghinkai did not hide his surprise.
“This boy is young!” He said. He greatly respected the Shivvendari Mage, even tried to persuade him to stay, which was unheard of, but Darian had politely declined, saying he would travel with Kyler.
Everyone could see that the elf and the Mage had become fast friends. Kiriasti also knew there was a layer to Darian that Kyler had no idea existed; he had tried to speak of it to the Mage. Darian had not been ready to listen, and he was not ready even now.
