by Rosie Scott
Desoriencia! I thrust the murky energy at our new contender, and as soon as the illusion magic sunk into her skull, she stopped in the midst of hefting up her sword for a second swing. She blinked rapidly in confusion, newly alarmed by the battle raging around her. Letting the sword sit heavily on the deck by its tip so she had a free hand, she reached out to Cyrus nearby, giving him a ward. The Sentinel was in the middle of punching his katars forward into the head and neck of a foe and didn't even notice. Still confused and now panicking, the woman dropped her sword entirely before pushing through the crowds of soldiers as if trying to flee. She was caught in one of Maggie's hammer attacks which swept through a handful of the elves in a wide arc and ended up hanging over the railing of the ship with shattered kneecaps. Maggie gave her a helpful push overboard.
Cerin's alteration shield flickered out as the necromancer before him continued to leech. The death magic connected to his chest for a split second before Azazel regenerated the protection. The archer fended off a man with a giant two-handed ax, the blade made out of the creamish-white bone of a hunted creature. The beautiful weapon swung toward Azazel's side with great strength, but my friend dodged the hit. The ax was pulled back for another swing, but Azazel reached to the weapon, transferring black alteration magic into its blade. The ax fell to the wooden deck with such weight that one of the boards cracked with the hit, and the man's throat was split with a karambit a moment later.
Cerin was still hacking into the necromancer's neck, deepening the cut until it spurted blood out to the side. The foe backed up, putting a pale hand on the wound and calling, “Healer!”
Another Icilic came to her, white magic over his palms. I forced coral-pink energy to the man, and he dispelled the magic, deciding instead to give Cerin a ward now that he was charmed. The necromancer backing away from Cerin started to panic at the turn of events. Thick blood trickled down the exterior of her neck from beneath her wound. She continued calling for a healer until she was backed up against the railing of the ship, out of places to go.
Azazel rushed past me, paralyzing the necromancer as her weight was supported on the railing. The archer grabbed the woman's hips to hold her against the ship for easy targeting and yelled, “Cerin! Now!”
Cerin lifted his scythe up with the curve of the blade facing his foe, and the weapon crashed into both the necromancer's wound and the fingers trying to protect it. The digits were crushed and broken, two of them falling to the deck in bloody clumps. With another swing, he finally got through to the existing wound, deepening it further. One last hit was all it needed. Still paralyzed, the necromancer's silver eyes dulled with a lack of life. Azazel hefted the woman over the railing, and her body splashed into the ocean seconds later.
Cerin went back to leeching, eager to recharge himself after an arduous fight. I refreshed the soldiers around us with the energy of our foes. I thought about raising the dead on the deck, but there were few living Icilic left. I looked out over the ocean, finding that the ships under our command and Zephyr's had surrounded the other five Icilic warships, their own battles wrapping up. We outnumbered the snow elves on the sea, but many of them had boarded the ships left in Esen's harbor, and now Uriel and Altan's navies were being bombarded with close quarters attacks by a sudden influx of new contenders.
Our men hurried back to the Eteri warship when the last Icilic had been dealt with. With Zephyr's navy still finishing their battle against the remaining vessels, ours headed to Esen's harbor to aid Altan.
The first Sentinel was in the middle of a group of Icilic, wielding his heavy chain with bulging muscles. Most of Altan's men were fending off the snow elves who had jumped across to the allied ship, but the Sentinel had isolated himself on the enemy vessel. As he wielded his chain, I understood why. The wide arcs of the spinning weapon clashed into every soldier in the vicinity, shattering magical shields and bones alike. Altan had imbued the end of the chain with fire, and many of the Icilic near him were injured with scorched armor and reddened flesh, leaking pus from recent burns.
The rapid and sweeping movements of the chain were keeping some of the enemies just out of reach as they tried to figure out how to counter the weapon. One of the Icilic wasn't fazed at all and stalked past the rest of his comrades with a trident that stood many feet tall. As Altan swung the chain around the trident was forced into its path, stopping it short. Altan only laughed at the interruption, letting the chain wrap around the trident until he yanked the weapon out of the foe's grasp. The chain unfurled from the trident as Altan held it in only his left hand before he swung his right fist straight into the foe's jaw. The man staggered back from the hit, and Altan threw the chain forward, letting the weapon wrap around the enemy's neck until it was grasped at with panic. Altan tugged tighter on the chain to strangle the man even as others came up behind him. Though Altan sidestepped many of the weapons thrown his way, one of the Icilic managed to nick him with a spear under the rib. The Sentinel took a moment from strangling one foe to shoot a fire bomb back at the others. His own alteration shield absorbed the magic, but the snow elves just behind him were scattered backward with the hit, one even hitting the railing and falling overboard. With the enemy in the chain now strangled to death, Altan yanked the chain free of the neck and went to work finishing off those who were on fire.
I'd never seen someone who excelled at being outnumbered before. Altan's laughs of exhilaration bounded over the seas toward our ship as we neared the harbor. Far past it and into the town of Esen and beyond, an even more significant battle was happening in the northern cup of Eteri.
Kirek and her army were in the midst of fighting Icilic reinforcements. She was outnumbered but holding her own. Both sides were utilizing necromancy because I spotted corpses fighting corpses. I heard Kirek screaming orders at her men as a tornado was unleashed by an Icilic mage. The allied army split into two to avoid most of the tornado's path, and those who weren't so quick to act ended up in the storm, flashes of yellow spinning through dark winds. As the Icilic soldiers rushed forward to take advantage of the allied army's panic, Kirek forced both hands toward the ground at her boots. The grasslands just south of Esen split open, the crevasse leading from the Sentinel's feet and into the pursuing Icilic. The snow elves that didn't dodge or run fell within the gap like they desired to create their own mass grave. Kirek brought both hands together with another spell, and the earth trembled as it closed upon all of the foes trapped within. As the Icilic tornado funneled back up into the sky behind her, Kirek pulled the axes from her belt. Both weapons were already discolored with dried blood, but new liquid was added as the axes were dual-wielded in a flurry. Kirek wasn't only immensely strong, she was nimble. She wielded both axes like Nyx had used daggers, able to dodge and duck swiftly between her massive swings.
“You are surrounded by capable people,” Azazel repeated his previous statement beside me, his eyes watching the same battle.
I laughed, but it was more in disbelief than humor. “Clearly. I only wish I had access to all their spells.”
“You don't know how to split the earth?” Azazel asked.
“Not like that. I know earthquake, but that's a little more unwieldy. I don't know how to close the earth, either.”
“Well, we simply can't have that,” Azazel teased. “Once we win this battle against Glacia, I'm sure we'll have some downtime before Hammerton. You can learn everything then. It's only right after teaching alteration to their people.”
I nodded. “Right. Let's just make sure we win this battle, then.”
“That's the plan,” Azazel agreed, firing arrows into the unprotected Icilic along the coast.
With our ship finally pulled up alongside a stolen Eteri galleon, I raised my hands to the sky above the vessel. The Icilic had given the warship a ward, but with enough damage, I could get my magic through it. I didn't want to risk destroying the ship, so I didn't plan on using fire. After all, a good number of the Icilic were water mages and would be able to squelch the
flames. I decided to use their own element against them and give it extra power left over from leeching energy from their friends.
Generat le shouer a friz. The skies darkened in a circle over the stolen ship, water particles in the air pulling together to create dense clouds. A high-pitched crackling from water crystallizing rattled through the skies, before sharp shards of ice fell into the ship's ward from above. The ward flickered as the icicles hit the protection and shattered. After a few moments, the spell proved to be too much. The protection disappeared, and icicles were soon raining down toward hardwood and flesh alike. Snow elves were impaled from above, and given the power of the spell combined with the helpfulness of gravity, the skies might as well have been raining knives. One foe was pinned to the deck after an icicle stabbed through both his boot and the hardwood, and another's eyes popped out of their sockets from the force of a shard through the skull.
The ward of the ship soon regenerated, and the last bits of ice from my spell shattered harmlessly over the refreshed magic. I did not utilize another spell just yet. Our soldiers were hard at work pulling our ships together with multiple grappling hooks, and I didn't want to waste my energy. As soon as we were within jumping distance of the other deck, my friends and I were rushing over at the front of the pack. I focused on leeching and regenerating allies.
HUUURRRNNNNN!
I spun to look north. Zephyr's navy was on its way to aid us, and the Sentinel was pointing frantically down the coast. I followed her direction, finding that an Icilic warship which had only recently been boarded on the coast headed straight for us, its bow facing our ship's right hull. The enemy vessel's speed was great, which led me to believe they desired to ram our boat to sink it.
“Kai!” Cyrus's voice reached my ears from our own ship's deck. I pulled back from the fray, leeching from foes as I went.
“Cy!” I yelled back when I was close enough.
Cyrus jabbed a katar forward into a foe's throat, the wide pointed blade doing so much damage to the muscles of the neck that the woman's head tilted back at a sickening angle, no longer supported by anything but the spine. The corpse fell to the deck, leaving the Sentinel's arm splattered with thick blood. Two blue eyes met mine. “Do you have a leeching high?”
“Yes,” I replied.
The Sentinel pointed to the waters just before the ship which meant to ram us. “Steam! I don't have enough energy, it has to be you! I'll watch your back.”
I understood what he wanted to do. I hurried to the right railing of the ship and recited the spell in my head.
Tranferra la agua ti vapur. Clear water energy trembled in my palms. I built the spells until my high was gone, ensuring it would work how I wanted it to. I forced the power into the waters a moment later. The spell hit the seawater to the right of our ship, and the air vibrated with a violent hissing as liquid transformed into steam, leaving nothing but granules of salt to fall to the sands after being separated from the water's embrace. The energy rippled toward the ship that meant to ram us, removing the water required for them to travel. The mages on the galleon saw the spell rampaging toward them and tried to stop the vessel, but they'd been going too fast and had reacted too late. The water surrounding them burst upward in a dense fog, and the ship fell abruptly to the sloped sand, landing on its full keel. The huge vessel was unbalanced on the thin structure and toppled downhill to the north. The ship crashed to the wet sands, spewing elves from its deck into the ocean waters that rushed in to fill the sudden gap.
The spell hadn't just affected the Icilic. As the water pooled toward the area, our ship was tugged with it. Cyrus grabbed my arm to keep me from falling overboard as the galleons were readjusted at the mercy of the waters. Once the vessels stabilized, I turned to ensure my friends were all safe. Happy with what I found, I leeched from a few foes before pushing a new spell into the waters surrounding the wrecked ship, turning the water into ice. The Icilic that had been desperately trying to swim to shore from the wreck were entrapped.
I looked at the other ships, finding that the aid of our navy had allowed Altan and Uriel to once more get the advantage. There were masses of Icilic here, but most of them were on land. Zephyr's ships sailed to the docks of Esen's northern harbor, preparing to disembark. Far on the other side of us, Uriel's navy prepared to do the same. Altan's navy dealt with the last few Icilic warships that posed a threat.
I turned to our men. “Retrieve the grappling hooks!” I pointed a finger toward the battle raging in Esen. “To shore!”
Forty-two
Crash!
The boarding ramp of our ship clattered over the stone of Esen's northern dock. Before our men could rush in front of us, Cerin shot two orbs of death energy into the Icilic scattered through the town ahead. As soon as the black fog imploded back into his chest, he grimaced in pain.
“What?” I asked desperately, hesitating to rush into battle so I could ensure he was okay.
“The high,” Cerin breathed, twirling a finger beside his temple. “It hurts.”
I took that information in with some worry. Cerin had had access to the enervat spell for so long and hadn't experienced the pain like I had until now. Perhaps his insistence on switching between magic and melee had prevented the energy from ever building up that far in the past. Regardless, I didn't like him being in pain, and I was still a little uncertain as to whether or not that side effect was connected to my own rapidly growing powers. I'd always been quietly relieved that Cerin had never experienced the trauma, but he was apparently not immune to it.
“I have the dull senses spell,” I reminded him softly, “but I don't want to endanger you.”
“I'll be fine,” he insisted. Cerin raised the nearby dead next, expending as much energy as he could right away. We rushed forward into Esen together, and when Cerin skidded to a stop to battle with his scythe, I ran past him and into the fray.
“Azazel, stay back!” I yelled behind me, as my shields became pummeled with hits. In the midst of a group of Icilic, I glanced back to ensure the archer had listened. Even though he fought some distance behind me, he still paid attention to where I was, prepared to be supportive as always.
Explodis a meta! Earth energy in my palms thickened and strengthened into shards of metal. Metal clacked and scraped by itself as it swirled within the magical barrier. My shields were weakening quickly, so I thrust the energy to the ground at my feet.
Fragments of metal exploded out around me in a full circle, flying through the air with the sound of a thousand hard projectiles. Unprotected snow elves were impaled with hundreds of tiny jagged blades, falling to the ground around me in puddles of blood. The strength of the earth element was helpful in flickering out both wards and shields alike, and the foes which had protections now found themselves vulnerable. I took advantage of that with a bomb of death next, and the battlefield in my immediate vicinity was cleared of soldiers who'd simply been overwhelmed.
“Kai! Shield!” Azazel was yelling it even while fighting. I only realized then that the metal bomb had shattered through the rest of my shields. One glimmering shard stuck out of my right thigh like a blade, thick blood drizzling out of the break in armor.
I gave myself an absorb magic shield and followed it up with a life shield next. In the middle of doing so, the world disappeared in white, leaving me with an influx of energy. I'd been hit by lightning again. I mentally thanked Azazel for his warning. It had come just in time.
“Creatius le funel!” I spun to find the female voice who'd said it. An Icilic mage stood at the edge of the clearing, a tornado building in her palms. I started to prepare my own spell, but a breeze blew by my right ear just before a black arrow sunk deep into the mage's eye socket. The magic dispelled as the woman died, her body folding to the ground. Tendrils raced into the area a moment later as Cerin raised the recent dead.
“Am I done staying back, Kai?” Azazel breathed, hurrying up to me as if my answer didn't matter.
“I guess so,” I replied. �
��Be lively for a minute, will you?” Azazel huffed with amusement by my wording, standing by to protect me as I finally removed the shard of metal from my leg and healed the wound. Afterwards, I asked him, “How are you doing on energy?”
“A little fatigued,” the archer admitted, loosing arrows into the crowds like it was going out of style. I sent death magic into the nearest foes before refreshing Azazel with life magic, and he thanked me with a nod.
Maggie was in the middle of a crowd of foes and without a shield, so I headed to protect her next. One of the elves thrust a trident toward her rib cage, and the three spiked ends of it sunk through her armor and scraped against bone. The engineer swung her huge hammer in an uppercut, and the man flew through the air with a shattered face, knocking down one of his comrades when his broken body fell back to the ground. Maggie spun her hammer in a large circle, and the elves surrounding her collected on the gigantic weapon as it rushed around before they were thrown into the crowd in bruised and broken masses of flesh.
“Maggie!” I called it out just before reaching her, ensuring I was safe from her next hammer swing. She glanced over at me, relief in her blue eyes.
“Ah, there ya are, Kai. Spare some energy?” Maggie motioned toward her new wound.
“Of course.” I went to work healing her as Azazel watched my back. Maggie watched over the battle from her greater height, her eyes watching Kirek's army fighting farther south. “How's it looking?” I asked her.
“It's a bloodbath,” she replied. “As usual. Do ya think this is all their reinforcements? Maybe we won't have to go to Glacia at all.”
“I don't know whether this is it or not, but I do know we'll be going to Glacia regardless,” I replied, watching her skin meld back together within the breaks of armor. “Both Bhaskar and Tilda want Vertun dead.”
