by Rosie Scott
A memory came to mind of being in Nahara. We'd been overwhelmed with anubites, and I had summoned a lightning storm to help clear the field. These highlands were open to the skies, and lightning usually killed immediately. I could refresh all of the mages in the area and wipe out many of our enemies with a single charged spell. It was the only thing I had access to that could cause widespread damage to the Icilic while keeping my friends safe.
My mind was set. I stole life after life out of the crowd with death magic, not stopping when the high I'd been seeking swelled in my head. I wanted as much power as possible. I needed to change the tide of this battle.
Only when tears blurred my vision from the throbbing pain of the energy did I finally back away from the frontlines. I raised both hands to the sky above the Icilic Army, calling for a miracle.
Generat la bolta a multipla!
Clouds started to accumulate above in dense strings of black and gray. Rumbling rolled forth like the heavens themselves were hungry for future bloodshed. The battlefield was thrown into shadow, and many mages on both sides were distracted as they looked to the skies. Some of the Icilic tried to scatter, but as weakened as our army was, we still surrounded them.
BOOM! Sss...
The first bolt of lightning had the thickness of a tree trunk and hit the earth so hard that bodies flew up into the air like a splash of water, trailing smoke before they fell. The ground at the point of impact was left scorched and indented. An Icilic soldier was fried within the crater, his body broken into two pieces. The blood puddle beneath him boiled and sizzled with heat.
BOOM! Sss...
As soon as the next bolt hit the ground, pure purple-white electricity sizzled out from the impact, reaching elves that hadn't been affected by the initial hit. This magic sizzled across the land like chain lightning, seeking moisture from bodies before sending them into seizures. In a circle around the crater, fried bodies were being thrown into comrades like shrapnel as gravity coaxed them out of the skies.
With a pounding heart, I realized that the spell was different than the last time I'd summoned it. The craters and chain lightning were both new. I'd meant my magic to be devastating; after all, that's why I'd recycled so much power into it. But like the tsunami at Narangar, this spell was so overwhelmingly powerful that it was transforming, gaining new abilities it'd never had before. Perhaps that revelation should have made me happy, but fear rose in my chest as I realized that the very spell I'd meant to protect my friends with could end up hurting them.
BOOM! Sss...
The next bolt struck down in a massive group of foes. Bodies were nothing more than playthings to be tossed and tumbled. With each strike, dozens upon dozens of our enemies were cleared. Though the heavens rumbled with the promise of more, so many were dead. The casualties left holes in the groups of Icilic, leaving the battlefield spotty with their newly weakened ranks.
My fingers grazed along the smooth surface of my war horn. This spell was too powerful. With the Icilic numbers depleting rapidly near the center of their ranks, the next bolts would seek out foes near the frontlines of our own men. I needed to urge them to retreat.
BOOM! Sss...
“Aggh!” Jakan.
My heart jumped so far into my throat that I felt I couldn't breathe. I spun to find his location, my golden eyes frantically searching through the battlefield.
There was a crater, like all the others, near the frontlines of our ranks. Dozens of Icilic flew through the air above, proving the hit was recent. The electricity had spread over the ground, affecting the immediate area. Like all the others.
Except Jakan had been fighting near this one.
The thief still stood, his scimitar bloody with recent hits. His body shook with a seizure. Foam lined his normally happy lips, dripping slowly down his chin. The scimitar fell from his grasp, clattering to the ground over another lost weapon. Wisps of smoke rose from closed eyelids before the electricity finally released its hold of him.
Jakan fell to the ground face-first, landing beside the crater in a still heap. I rushed toward him, fear holding both my heart and mind hostage and life energy already building in both hands.
Lightning usually kills immediately.
But I refused to believe it would kill Jakan so easily. The people I loved were strong. Surely they were stronger than the others. Surely...
I collapsed beside the thief, shaking immensely as I noticed blood pooling over the grass beneath his face. My eyes fell on the exposed skin of his bronzed arms. Ordinarily perfect, youthful skin was etched and scarred with evidence of being hit by lightning.
My lightning.
With trembling hands, I pulled Jakan over. Hot blood was draining from both eyes and nostrils. His youthful face was scarred, but relaxed. I noticed he was moving, but barely.
He's not in pain.
I told myself that over and over before I tried finding his wounds. I'd never had to heal someone who had been hit by lightning. They usually never survived it. While holding him over my lap and supporting his head with my left arm, I used life magic with my right to seek his wounds. White life magic spread out over his torso, but it didn't sink into his skin. It stayed just below my hand as if refusing to work.
“Jakan,” I murmured desperately. “Wake up. Where does it hurt?” My voice was thick with anguish. I hadn't meant to hurt him; I'd wanted to protect him. The elements could not always be controlled. That didn't mean it was any less painful knowing I'd injured him. “Jakan,” I blurted again.
“Kai.” I turned to see Cerin behind me, his eyes welling with tears. It was so hard to make Cerin cry that I found myself in shock.
“Jakan is injured, but I don't know how to heal him,” I rambled desperately, disoriented. “The magic is refusing to work.”
“Check his pulse, Kai,” Cerin murmured thickly, his brow furrowed.
I did so. I put two fingers at Jakan's throat, just below his jawline. I waited for a heartbeat. None came.
“Cerin,” I blurted, his name coming out on the edges of a sob. “He's moving. He's alive. He's alive.” My body released another wave of shudders, and Jakan's body mimicked them. It was then I realized he was only moving because I was a shaking wreck.
No. Not you. Not here. Not like this.
My eyes were wide in shock, and my chest was thick with panic. My head was tormented with Jakan's happy voice, just hours ago when he'd teased me about killing the necromancer. I loved this man. I'd always found him so adorable that I felt more protective of him than I should have been. And here he was, dead by my magic.
Friendly fire is a real concern. They were my own words, said to Anto long ago in the city of Al Nazir. They did nothing but haunt me now.
My body shook with the release of violent sobs. I hugged Jakan to my chest, overcome with mourning. His body was intensely hot up against me from the remnants of the spell, and I was desperate to hold onto that, like keeping him warm would mean his body would never cool.
“Jakan!” Nyx's voice was hoarse with trauma as she saw me holding him from farther down the battlefield. I heard the rampage of her boots as she ran toward us. “What happened?” She yelled, collapsing to her knees on the other side of him. Her purple arms shook as she reached out to him, tugging at his body. I sat back, letting her have him. My best friend trembled as she pulled Jakan's body up against her, black eyes staring into my own. Tears rolled down toward her chin in glimmering streaks. “You,” she blurted, the word nearly multiple syllables as her voice shook. “You did this.”
More tears came as I watched her rock back and forth with Jakan in her arms. Her words echoed in my head, overriding my own thoughts of guilt. I felt sick, and upset, and angry, and traumatized. I knew Nyx loved Jakan immensely, but so did I. She had to have known this wasn't intentional. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt my friends. They were my family. These were the people I loved the most.
My eyes scanned over the battlefield, searching for the others. Cerin and A
zazel were just behind me, mourning in their own ways. Maggie was still battering through the remaining enemies beside the Sentinels, and Anto...
Anto stood alone on the battlefield, piles of corpses and mutilated body parts scattered around him. His arm blades were slick with red blood that dripped to the grasses below. His brown eyes were on us. They moistened as he came to realize everything that had happened. They moved from his dead lover to the crater nearby, and then to us. Finally, his eyes fell upon me. Focused.
Then, all sanity in them was gone. Anto roared as he fell into a berserker rage, rushing toward me with a need for vengeance.
Thirty-three
“Wait.” I scurried to stand up so quickly that I fell back to the grass. My chest was tight with mourning and panic. I heard Cerin and Azazel pleading and reasoning with the orc as he neared, but it would do no good. As I finally came to a stand, I doubled my power into a life shield and it bubbled over me, stronger than usual because it had to be.
“Anto, wait,” I blurted again, the plea so thick with grief the words were nearly indiscernible. I rushed back from him as he fell into a spin, arm blades slicing through the air and clanging off of my white shield. “Please! It was a mistake! I love Jakan! I love you!”
The arm blades shattered through my protection, ripping through armor and flesh alike of both arms as I held them defensively before my torso. Blood splattered over the grasses around my boots, adding itself to the puddles already saturating the land. I regenerated my shield, but it soon flickered with weakness.
“Anto! Stop!” Cerin swung his scythe toward the orc, and it hooked over the blade of one arm, temporarily stopping him. The orc's eyes were full of rage when they met Cerin's, but he did not attempt to hurt him. Anto's only target appeared to be me.
Persuadua. Coral-pink energy zoomed to the orc from my palm in an attempt to charm him. As Anto finally burst free of Cerin's hold with a new spin, I realized the spell wouldn't work against his rage. My arms were drizzling so much blood now that it was audible as it trickled down the armor Anto had once made for me and splattered over the grasses. My heart was full of so much trauma and regret that it physically felt as if it were tearing.
Cerin shot a new physical shield over me when mine flickered out, and then he attempted to stop Anto again with his weapon. The grasp of the curved blade didn't hold, and he was stunned as the orc's power forced the scythe back into his chest, knocking him back.
Berserker rages would only stop for two reasons, I'd remembered being told. Either Anto would have to die, or he'd have to run out of energy. I was sure his rage would stop in the case of my death, but I didn't want to die today. I hadn't wanted any of my friends to die today.
A flash of emerald green flew from Azazel's direction. Anto had been a blur during his whirlwind, so I mentally thanked the archer for using the spell with his better eyesight. The orc spun to the ground, temporarily paralyzed.
Cerin rushed toward me, starting to heal my bloodied arms.
“What are we going to do?” Azazel blurted, panicking. The archer stood beside me as I was healed, his face a mess of emotion. “I don't want to shoot him. He's one of us.”
“Cerin,” I blurted, as my lover's focus was on my wounds. “You have to leech from him.”
“I can't do that,” Cerin protested, alarmed. “I'll kill him.”
“No, I'll kill him if I do it. Your spell is less powerful than mine. You'll see him start to slow his movements. I can tell you if his eyes clear.” It was a desperate ramble because it was my only idea. Anto couldn't die. We'd already lost Jakan, and there'd been such little time to mourn.
With my arms healed, Cerin finally turned back to Anto. He said nothing, but death magic soon funneled from the orc, leeching his energy.
Azazel's spell soon dissipated. Anto rose, his eyes still on mine and his mind set on destroying me. The orc rushed up to me, throwing his arm blades into my shield with hits so intense they caused me to stumble back within its protection. I was constantly on the defensive, regenerating the life magic as I hurried back over bloody grass. Cerin wasn't far behind, leeching from our friend in a desperate attempt to both stop him and keep him safe.
It took minutes. Anto was immensely strong, and his rages doubled or even tripled his strength. The orc was in the midst of jamming his right blade into the life magic protecting me when his brown eyes cleared, and his arm fell to his side.
“Cerin, stop!” I yelled. The necromancer did so immediately.
Anto breathed hard before me, low on energy. His eyes teared up as he looked at me with regret. A hand came up to his chest, grasping at the armor over his heart.
“I'm sorry, Kai,” Anto offered, his voice thick with mourning. His brown eyes fell into a state of panic, and he spun, before rushing off to Jakan's body.
I ran after him, tears running down my face. I didn't want Anto apologizing to me. Not now. Not when we had to mourn. The orc's breaths were raspy and panicked in the air as I followed him.
Anto reached Jakan's body where Nyx still sat. The orc collapsed to the ground before reaching out to touch Jakan's face. Thick green fingers ran over newly scarred skin delicately. As I reached the scene, I fell beside him, transferring life energy to my friend in a desperate attempt to replenish him.
Anto's body shook with sobs, and his breaths were panicked. Too panicked.
“Anto, are you okay?” I asked him. It was a stupid question. He had just lost the love of his life. But his body was heaving over Jakan's corpse as if something else was affecting him. He didn't answer me. It didn't seem like he could talk.
Sik le life. Life magic spread over Anto's torso as I tried to find what was wrong with him. The white energy sunk through his armor, tugging my attention to his heart. Its beat was irregular, troubled.
No. I thought back to our talk with Uriel and Cyrus near the Orna Cliffs about Anto's heritage. He was a man of two vastly different backgrounds. The orcs and the Celds.
Anto held onto Jakan's face with both hands. I forced life energy into his chest rapidly in a futile attempt to save his heart. A final tear dripped from the orc's eye, and then he fell forward, his body sprawling over his lover.
No. No no no no no. My hands kept spewing life magic to Anto's heart, but the magic would no longer work. Life magic could not work on the dead. I kept trying anyway because I refused to believe I had lost them. I refused to accept they were dead. I loved these men. I loved these men so much. I had risked my life to save Anto in T'ahal. There were so many times I'd saved Jakan's life through combat or healing in the past. Every selfless sacrifice I'd ever made for them couldn't add up to the first time I was truly powerless to save them. The unfairness of such things in life was a cruel reality.
My friends were all crying. I no longer was. I was in such a state of shock and traumatic disbelief that I could find no emotion. I hadn't yet had the chance to properly mourn Jakan, and now Anto was also dead. My mind was so broken and mortified that it'd finally went numb to protect itself. One hand subconsciously moved up to my chest, where the necklace hung that was like a burden to me. My other hand was still over Anto's torso, attempting to heal his corpse in my daze. I dispelled the life magic, my eyes staring blankly at my hand.
These hands, I thought distantly, my gaze moving to the scars marring Jakan's skin.
I breathed hard over my two dead friends, feeling as if I were in the midst of a purgatory. My overcharged spell had indirectly been the cause of both of these losses. And I wouldn't have ever needed to use it if we hadn't been so outnumbered. If the Icilic hadn't attacked, we wouldn't be here right now, and my friends wouldn't be dead.
If the Icilic weren't here, Jakan and Anto would be alive.
I was quiet as I turned my face to the north where Zephyr's army was battling in the cup of Eteri. The Icilic Army facing her still looked fifteen thousand strong.
“Oh, no,” Cerin murmured, his voice thick. Perhaps he could read into my thoughts.
If the
Icilic weren't here, Jakan and Anto would be alive.
“Kai, I know you're upset, but please...” Cerin rambled, grabbing my arm.
If the Icilic weren't here, Jakan and Anto would be alive.
It was a chant in my head that rose to a chorus. I stood from the bodies of my friends, my eyes on the army in the north. I felt a sharp tug on my pants and glanced over to see Cerin had ripped the war horn straight from my belt.
HUUURRRNNNNN!
“Retreat!” Cerin screamed. “Zephyr needs to retreat! Kai will kill them all!”
I heard Cyrus yelling back, but I pushed the screams from my head. Cerin was right. My grief was rapidly converting into anger, taking control over my mind. Much like Anto's mixed heritage had caused both the berserker rage and then his broken heart, the blood of my godly ancestors raged through my veins, seeking vengeance and destruction. But my lover was wrong about one thing: I wanted that massive army dead, but even in my fury I knew I needed more energy to do it.
I stalked toward the enemies that were spread over the Cleves like a plague, shooting death energy from both palms. Orbs of black exploded into groups of Icilic, stealing lives and returning them to me. I heard the Sentinels blowing their war horns behind me, screaming at their men to retreat. I wasn't aiming for allies with my magic, but I also wasn't in my right mind. Memories of Jakan and Anto in happier times ran through my head, fueling me. Snow elves fell by the dozen. As my head began to pound and tremble with the pain of power, I found I sought more of it. I was emotionless, but I wanted to feel pain. I wanted to feel more of it. I wanted to feel it as much as possible because I couldn't bring my friends back and I refused to settle for helplessness.
Bodies were so numerous over the Cleves that they overlapped. Previously beautiful green grasses were red and brown with blood. Limbs were strewn over random places, mismatched and leaking. I walked over it all, facing angry Icilic elves with a rage that caused some of them to regard me with fear.
