Homecoming (Homecoming Chonicles Book 1)

by James Thornton

  The first few men who collided with the elves didn't stand a chance. They were cut down with such ease it almost seemed like they fell on purpose. Of course, they probably wouldn't have done that. Unless they tried to fake their death and then run away, maybe. That did seem the most likely way to stay alive, she thought.

  She watched with intrigue as two formations of soldiers grew in the alleys on either side of the elves who continued stream in. They planned to pincer them from both sides and give them no way to escape. It wouldn’t to work. She knew that. But it did make her wonder how effective it would be if the soldiers were more competent.

  Just as she expected, the attack was a failure from the start. They had managed to kill some of the armored elves. That was more than she could say for any of the other attacks the humans had made so far. But they had lost nearly twenty men for every elf that they had managed to kill. A loss like that would more quickly lose you an army than it would defeat an enemy. Well, maybe, she wasn't sure how many people there were in an army.

  As the battle continued, her attention focused on pockets of action where the soldiers found success against the elves. There was something different about them. They fought with confidence that the others didn't. With a leader at their helm that exuded that confidence. Maybe that was the key, someone who could inspire the men to fight to their full capabilities.

  She watched one of the pockets break as the elves focused in on it. The men abandoned the leader who was hacked apart by a group of elves. They managed to hold out better, but there was no way to counter such an power without some strength of your own. The mages, had they been able to work with those men, could have been enough. But there was no way to know for sure unless they did something.

  The elves were the soldiers’ antithesis. There was no order in their technique. They created chaos and reveled in it. Every attack was lethal and without hesitation. There was no resistance or struggle in any of their motions, only power. Even as the soldiers began to find success against the elves, they pushed forward, deeper into the city. She couldn’t blame the soldiers who had started to retreat. In fact, she thought they were the smarter ones.

  She wondered how hard it would be to fight against the elves. Would the soldiers have stood a chance with better training, or were they doomed from the start? The elves did seem like a force of nature as they crashed through the gate and into the city. Did men ever try to fight against nature? Well, yes, they did. But they usually died. Besides, the elves were decidedly more powerful than any other force of nature she had ever seen. So why were they sent out there anyway? Were the leaders of the army that incompetent?

  The elves began to regroup, as did the soldiers that remained. She wondered why they didn’t try to escape. They had realized that there was no chance to fight the elves, yet they stayed in the city. She thought they had been the smarter one, but maybe she was wrong.

  It occurred to her that she hadn’t seen a single resident of the city. The soldiers stayed to defend the civilians. They must have wanted to be brave, she thought. In her mind, they weren’t. Just stupid.

  They gathered together and started to walk through the alleys. There was still more soldiers than elves, but only two to one. They began to approach the back of the elven lines. Would a surprise attack be enough to even the odds? No probably not, she thought, but it would be fun to watch.

  Forec watched the elves gather in the center square of the city. The archers atop the wall had ceased their attack and gathered where the outer wall met the inner wall. The few soldiers that remained in the city had begun to group not far from the front gate. They didn’t escape as he expected them too, they organized for something instead. If they were strong enough to survive, they might be able to work together against the elves, Forec thought. That was, of course, if there was more of them. With their current numbers, even a surprise attack from a flank would do little.

  His fellow mages had started to grow restless, as did the swordmaster, Freedic. He couldn’t understand the mage’s angst. They should have been used to the boredom of idleness. Freedic, he understood. The talent was quite literally made born to fight but had been forced to the side. And he had just been forced to watch a battle just out of reach.

  “Calm yourselves,” Forec said. “You remember the High Mage’s orders.”

  “I didn’t realize that meant watching a slaughter,” Mauvia said.

  “And we didn’t even get to have a part in any of the fun!” Helien added. “It’s unfair, Forec. I didn’t even get to smell it.”

  “What have we observed?” Forec asked. “Did anything particularly important catch your eye to report?”

  “The soldiers didn’t stand a chance,” Mauvia said. “Magic was effective enough against the elves but didn’t seem to have any psychological effect. Even when you kill the one, the others ignore it entirely.”

  “Our fortifications are useless against them, even barehanded they tore apart a gate,” Ruephen said.

  “They burn awful pretty,” Helien said with a twisted grin.

  “You forced us to watch as thousands of men were slaughtered,” Freedic said. “And don’t even seem to give a shit about it now.”

  “They abused the city layout,” Vyra said. “They used the alleys between buildings to trap soldiers into fights one at a time. Even when the men were able to remain in groups, the elves were never truly outnumbered.”

  “What was that?” Forec asked.

  “Well, the soldiers didn’t seem to use their numbers to their advantage,” she said. “One of the elves could easily overpower two or three men at a time, but not eight or nine. So if they grouped eight or nine men, the elves would swarm on the group.”

  “That’s very good, girl,”

  “It’s also useless,” Freedic said. “Especially when we can’t do anything to help the soldiers.”

  “Watch for any elves that leave the city,” Forec said. He kept his eyes focused on Freedic. “The second they step out of this city, we can attack them. Not a moment sooner unless you want Insmith to hang you out of Krux Aev’then by your toes.”

  “Yes, but not a sooner,” Freedic said. “We can’t afford to upset anyone. They might be mad at the mages. Too bad there wouldn’t be anyone to be angry in first damned place.”

  “You know we cannot intervene in the city,” Forec said with a clenched jaw. “We have to follow our orders.”

  “She specifically mentioned the mages,” Freedic barked. “The mages weren’t to intervene, but the talents could.”

  “Then why didn’t you?” Forec asked. “Were you too busy imagining this argument to involve yourself? Why don’t you go down there now and show us how brave of a man you are?”

  Freedic spat.

  Freedic pushed past the mages and stood at the edge of the wall. Far below, the soldiers that remained had started to creep forward, towards the elves. He leaned over the wall and called a sword. Half stuck in the stone. What he planned to do was stupid, he knew as much. In fact, it would probably kill him. But death seemed better than another minute under Forec’s thumb.

  He leaned over the wall and gulped. It was a forty foot drop to the cobblestone ground below, but he was already committed. With a deep breath, he stepped over the edge and placed one foot on the blade. The sword held steady. He stepped over with his other foot. It never touched the sword. His arms shot up to balance himself, but both feet were already above his head.

  His outstretched hand scraped against the wall as he tumbled end over end. There was no time to think. His instincts had already taken over. A sword began to form in his hand, only inches from the wall. He felt the handle and braced himself.

  The entire blade formed within the wall. His whole body jerked upwards, and his shoulder made a loud pop. Pain shot through his arm and into his hand but kept his grip. The conjured metal cut through the stone as he continued down but slowed him. Only two or so feet from the ground, he stopped.

  Atop the wall, he could see th
e terrified expressions of the mages. Not one of them had even tried to help him, though. They just watched. Typical.

  He dusted himself off as his hands shook uncontrollably. Each beat of his heart sent a shot of pain into his throat. With heavy breaths, he began to calm his heart rate, enough that he began to feel the pain in his shoulder. It must have been dislocated at the very least but likely was much worse. This wasn’t the time to worry about it though. There were more important matters at hand.

  Freedic set off into the city and began to search out the soldiers. As he started to make his way through the alleys, he discovered it was much easier to look down on the city than to navigate it. He wandered the maze of alleys and buildings blindly, but he still hadn't managed to find the main road where the majority of the battle had taken place. Once he did find it, however, he knew it would be a direct line to the battle.

  The sounds of battle dragged him through the maze of alleys. He turned corner after corner around similar buildings, as he searched for the source of the noise. As he continued forward, he began to stumble over signs of the battle he had watched from the wall. Bodies were splayed in every position. When buildings still stood, they were stained red. And above all else, the smell of death permeated the air. The scent of rot was so pungent, Freedic had to stop to cover his nose and mouth. It didn’t do much to help, but he couldn’t afford to slow down. The sound of the fight dragged him forward. And he was close.

  He stepped out from the claustrophobic alleys and onto the main roadway. The last remnants of the soldiers fought with the elves less than a hundred feet in front of him. The men were outnumbered and the elves picked them apart. Freedic’s heart stopped. He sprinted forward.

  As he reached the first of the elves, he called for a sword. It materialized in the elf’s armor and thigh. Freedic continued his sprint. The sword cut through flesh and metal the same. The first elf fell with a scream of shock and agony. Freedic repeated it another five times before the elves paid attention to him. They saw him as a threat. Enough of one to take pressure off the soldiers, at least.

  An elf charged at him, no weapon in hand. Too confident, he thought, as he called for a sword that materialized in the elf’s chest. It toppled over and screamed as blood gushed into the gaps in the cobbles. He called a second sword through the elf’s throat. Not a out of mercy, Freedic told himself, the elf was just too loud.

  The next elf came alone. This one took him more seriously. It held its sword and took a proper posture. They saw him as a decent threat now. He liked that. The elven sword was a massive piece of jet black metal. From the tip of its blade to the bottom of its handle it was nearly the same height as Freedic. Compared to the elf who held it, the sword was about the right size. He wouldn't be able to block any of the blows. That had already been decided for him.

  The sound of metal clanked from behind him. He threw himself to the ground. One of the massive elven blades cut through the air where his neck had been just a moment earlier. He landed on all fours. The elf in front of him began to run at him, sword ready to strike. He pushed himself onto his feet and began to spin. At the same time, he called for a sword. The sword materialized at the side of the knee of the elf behind him. It cut through armor and flesh. The giant armored monster fell to its side.

  He leaped over the fallen elf and spun again to face his new attacker. It tried to jump over its fallen comrade but hadn’t managed to clear it. With a loud crash, the elf hit the ground. After it had landed, it didn’t move.

  The soldiers no longer took any attention from him. He only saw their backs as they ran to the inner wall. Cowards. He would have to finish the fight on his own.

  Two more elves faced him, both with swords in hands. They both cut at the same time, but also in the same area. He ducked under the two swords and pressed forward as he called two swords. One sword punched through the chest of an elf. The other, much to Freedic’s shock, did not.

  The elf had sidestepped his attack. Its sword held overhead. It began to slice down at him. He dismissed both of his swords and let himself fall forwards. The elf blade nicked him just below his shoulder. Enough to hurt, but not enough to distract him. It followed up with a stab at his abdomen that he managed to avoid, though it did open a hole in his shirt.

  The stab had been a mistake on the elf’s part. It was its last mistake. Freedic called a sword through the elf's forearm and punched with his sword hand. His sword opened a massive wound, straight through to the elbow. He didn’t give the elf a chance to scream. Another sword materialized between the elf’s eyes.

  Two more dead. Freedic looked up to face his next opponent. Instead, he faced with hundreds of elves that swarmed around him. They boxed him in. It was over. He lost.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Chapter 8

  Forec stepped from his rift and stood just before Freedic. He scowled at the bloodied man and raised a wall of fire so intense it singed his hair. The elves that were brave enough to approach the flames burned away to nothing in a flash. Their armor and flesh burnt away to ash. With a grunt of effort, he began to swirl the air around him and Freedic. Then he pushed and sent the flames outward before they finally dissipated. Dozens of black stains appeared on the ground where the elves had stood. Beyond them, dozens more writhed in agony.

  “Now,” Forec shouted.

  Freedic charged the fallen elves, a sword appearing in his hand as he ran. Forec shot darts of red flame at the elves that remained and fell any of the elves who could still attack the ranger. In the back of his mind, he wondered what would happen to him. Insmith’s ideas of punishment were diverse. Though, that was a problem for a later time.

  Both men worked with calm brutality. Freedic stabbed through the fallen elves without a moment’s hesitation. Forec did not so much as break a sweat as he continued to fire darts of red flames, each landed with deadly precision. He struggled to keep track of how many he had killed, though, he was sure he was over fifty. The wall of flame would have done twenty in its own right.

  Sweat beaded on his forehead, exhaustion had begun to take over. The bolts of fire bounced off the elves’ armor and didn’t even manage to scorch the black metal. He knew his time was low. Freedic continued to charge about, but without Forec’s support it was suicide. Unfortunately, he couldn’t allow the ranger to die. Insmith would have his head for that too.

  Before he used all his magic and became a useless sack of flesh, Forec opened a rift. He ran through it and landed a step in front of Freedic. He closed the rift behind him. Before the ranger could argue, Forec grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. Forec opened yet another rift and dragged him through. This one sent them to the top of the wall.

  Forec still held Freedic by the collar and threw him to the floor. The mages gasped as the ranger slid towards the edge of the wall. Vyra watched on with dead eyes. Forec stood over him.

  “Are you happy with what you’ve done now, ranger?” he asked. “Nearly getting, not only yourself, but me killed?”

  “And if I am?”

  “Then it was a waste of my time to save you,” Forec said. “I should have just let the elves have their way with you and not disobeyed the High Mage.”

  “And allow all the soldiers to die?” Freedic asked. “I bet you would have enjoyed that, you sick fuck.”

  Forec swallowed his pride and didn’t kill the man. “They abandoned you. I risked my life and disobeyed a direct order from Insmith,” he said. “And you dare to call me a sick fuck?”

  “They did what they had too,” Freedic said, “they would have died otherwise.”

  “Pathetic worms,” Forec said. “They abandoned you to die and yet you still act as if they are better than me.”

  “They are no better than you,” he said. “But they are certainly no worse.”

  “Coward,” Forec said. “You can hate the mages as much as you’d like, you may even be correct in your hate. But you let it blind you and worship those men. Those pathetic worms who would have thrown you to y
our death if given the opportunity.”

  “At least they were honest,” he said. “You hate me and yet you risked everything to save my life. And why? Because you were told to. You have no room to speak, mage. You and your kind are truly pathetic.”

  Vyra watched the elves that Forec hadn’t killed on the ground below. Despite the heavy losses they took, they had begun to press forward. In the background, Forec continued to argue with Freedic. He continued to berate him for his selfish and brash decision. As far as she figured, if Freedic wanted to fight, Forec should have let him. But she understood Forec’s position too. If Freedic was to die, he would be responsible. Now instead, he would be punished because he used magic to save him.

  The elves begin to gather just outside of the inner gate. From the five hundred or so that there had been, Vyra counted less than two hundred now. The inner gate was much less impressive than the gate that she stood on. But unlike the main entrance, it was flanked on either side by a handful of smaller gates. It was probably to allow quicker access in and out of the inner part of the city. If the elves managed to take those last gates the city was as good as taken.

  The gates burst open, soldiers poured out into the city street. With swords and spears in hand, they streamed into the road and surrounded the elves. The elves fought viciously. They swung their massive blades into the crowd of soldiers. With each swipe, the elves managed to kill handfuls of soldiers. Each swing cut through them with ease. There were too many of the soldiers, though. The elves were overwhelmed.

  Soldiers began to fill the alleys beyond the main road. They closed off any conceivable escape for the elves. Even the main gate below was filled with soldiers. They stood in formation their spears pointed out. The elves continued the fight despite their numbers. Less than two hundred of the elves had managed to kill over a thousand soldiers in the first few minutes of the battle.