Homecoming (Homecoming Chonicles Book 1)

by James Thornton

  “Unfortunately, you’re now as useful as the ‘rabble,’” Forec said. “Heal the soldiers and stay far out of our way, please.”

  “And under whose authority do you give us orders?” he asked. “I don’t see old lady Insmith skulking around anywhere. As far as I can tell, you’re just another mage. Late to the party too.”

  “Council Mage Forec Desmith, if you must know,” Forec said. He narrowed his eyes. “Shall I give you a demonstration?”

  “Going to show me a trick and expect me to be impressed?” the mage asked. The others slowly backed away from him. “Go on, show me then.”

  Forec emptied the mage’s lungs. He sucked the air out of a bubble around the mage’s head. He hadn’t even blinked. The mage grasped at his chest as he struggled. Forec felt his lips curl into a grin. The mage collapsed to his knees. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound escaped.

  Forec released the bubble. The mage inhaled. Then drew deep, desperate breaths. Forec allowed him to regain himself and waited until he returned to his feet. The man coughed and took deep breaths. He began to open his mouth.

  Forec stepped within inches of the mage and halted him before he could speak. Forec’s hand raised before the mage’s face. He called a light—brighter than the sun—less than an inch from his face. The mage screamed. Forec would rather have burned his eyes out with fire, but these were Insmith’s mages. He needed to restrain himself.

  “Heal your eyes, then tend to the soldiers,” Forec said. “That goes for the lot of you.”

  "As for the rest of us?" Mauvia asked.

  "We're going to go fight," Forec said. "The orcs below will be overrun if we just sit up here and watch."

  "Doesn't this go against the High Mage's orders?" she asked.

  "We were told not to assist in the city," Forec said. "Freedic pointed out there is no city for hundreds of miles."

  "Time to cook 'em," Helien said. He laughed a bit too much.

  "A bit of a crude way of putting it," Forec said. "But we will involve ourselves."

  "I don't think that's such a good idea for all of us," Vyra said. "Some of us won't do so well. Unless you want me to disappear really scarily."

  "I suppose I will have to make an exemption for the girl," Forec said. "She has no combat skills to speak of, the same as those five useless-"

  "Thank you," Vyra interrupted.

  "Yes," he nodded. "Now, for the rest of us."

  "We go on down and burn the bastards," Helien said. "Seems simple enough, let's go on down."

  "Helien, you're no longer allowed to talk," Mauvia said. "Council Mage, please, continue."

  Helien frowned and stared at her from the corner of his eyes but kept quiet.

  "Well, he was basically right," Forec said. "We're going to open a rift behind them and pinch them against the orcs."

  "We’ll only push the elves forward," Ruephen said, his voice was gravely and deep. "We should push them back."

  "Yes, I suppose that makes sense," Forec said.

  "Unless we burn them quick enough that they can't get to the orcs," Helien added.

  "Didn't I just tell you, Helien?" Mauvia said.

  He frowned again.

  "I believe a combination of the two will best serve us," Forec said. “Mauvia, you will bring Freedic, Ausa, and Ruephen to the front with the orcs. I’ll keep an eye on Helien at their back. When they begin to move back, we’ll crush them.

  "I suppose," Ruephen said. "Better than killing all the orcs. Still stupid, but better."

  "Mauvia, you're in charge of the attack. You four will follow her orders, or I’ll deal with you myself." Forec said. "Freedic, try not to be as stupid as you were in Quisen. If you get yourself killed, I’ll bring you back to life just long enough for you to regret it."

  Freedic huffed.

  Forec opened a rift that appeared a few hundred feet behind the elves. Mauvia opened her own behind the orcs. Ausa, Ruephen, Freedic, and finally Mauvia stepped through. The rift closed a moment later. As they finally disappeared, Helien stepped through and Forec followed.

  The battle had quieted since they had arrived. It was a barely audible murmur from the hundred or so feet away Forec was. The sounds of metal had all but disappeared. It rang out rarely and never from a fight. That would soon change, Forec thought, a grin grew on his face. He looked to his side where Helien eagerly twitched and sparked his fingertips. The man wasn't quite right, but to Forec, it seemed he was a bit excessive.

  Shouts came from the lines of elves. They began to move and shift nervously at the back lines. Helien started to shake, and flames began to drip from his hands. Forec could see the stress on his face, but it was not the stress of a man who would soon face battle. It was that of a man who saw what he wanted but could not have. Like an animal that lunged for food just out of its reach.

  "Control yourself," Forec said. "You're acting like a madman."

  "I need it," Helien said. He licked his lips and blinked his eyes. Flames still dripped from his hands and scorched the ground below. "They're just waiting for it. Look at them Forec. They’re going to burn so nice."

  It appeared Helien was worse than Forec had thought. Worse than anyone had imagined, probably.

  Whatever happened at the front was a mystery. Neither of the mages could see through the crowd of black-armored elves. The shouts and screams were the only indications they had, along with the sounds of metal against metal. Helien could hardly stay in his skin. Forec found himself more worried about the mage next to him than the elves. It would be safer to be at the front in a fight the elves than to be with Helien. Then again, he wasn’t in a fight with the elves.

  Freedic ducked under the spears of fire, chunks of stone, and orbs darkness that whipped and glided through the air. The mages didn't let up from the moment they stepped out of the rift. It was a constant stream of spells. Fire, stones, and orbs rained death into the formation of elves. Ruephen had, for the most part, stood behind the other two. He would occasionally send a barrage of needle-like rocks into an elf that had managed to avoid the attacks of Mauvia and Ausa. The orcs had not yet moved. They waited for their moment.

  From the corner of Freedic’s eye, he saw the first elf he could reach. As good an opportunity as any, he decided. He called his sword and sprung towards it. The elf noticed far too late. By the time it had looked in his direction only the sword had cut through its armor and into its guts. Sheets of blood poured out. The elf tried to hold his organs in place. That was enough to get the attention of the rest. Dozens of elves broke off from the group, and despite the attempts from Ruephen's needle-stones, they began to close in on him. Freedic licked his lips. He charged.

  On both knees, he slid under the first of their attacks. With both hands extended he called two swords. They cut through the armor and thighs of the elves on either side of him. Both fell immediately, their massive swords dropped to the ground. As his momentum slowed, he spun and jumped back towards the two fallen elves. Swords cut through the air behind him. He jumped over the two. His swords dragged through the ground, then both of the elves. There were still some-teen left of them, but he had shown himself as more than capable.

  Five of the elves charged him while the others blocked any escape route, not that he would have a need for it. He ducked. The blades of three swords crossed the air where his neck had been. Swords in both hands, he spun in a tight circle. He felt both swords cut through metal, bone, and flesh. Blood sprayed onto him. Three more elves fell.

  Freedic saw two more elves charge him, from left and right. He rolled forwards. Two of the black swords blurred from either side, one where his knees had been and one where his head had been. Too slow. By the time they finished their attack, he faced them. He dismissed both swords and sprinted towards the elf on his left, who matched him and began to charge. Freedic called a sword and let it materialize through the elf's heart, before he dismissed it and spun away from its body. He recalled the blade and slashed across the armor covered back as
it fell. The last one in the circle learned to respect him and called in the ten who surrounded him.

  He dashed, dove, and slid among the elves, but barely had a chance to do as much as a pivot for his next jump, never mind get an attack in. He jumped among them desperately and looked for an escape, but wherever he landed, they already were.

  He dove again and slammed into the legs of an elf. He was far too light to bring the elf down. He didn't even take it off its balance. It looked down at him through the slits in its helmet with brownish-red eyes filled with hate. It stabbed down, but missed his throat as he rolled back into its legs. From beneath the elf, he called a sword, straight through the thing's groin. He cut as hard as he could. Through organs, bones, and armor, he cut through the elf’s back. Blood and guts spilled onto him. But another was already on top of him. The cycle of dodges began again. He felt the elves push and direct him, always towards the walls of the cliffs. He continued to fight, regardless.

  The pain began to pile on. He felt the burn in his muscles and aches in his bones. His arms were a mess of blood, dirt, and opened skin. His legs were not much better. There were nicks from the lucky few elves who landed blows, but the most severe of his injuries were from himself. From the way the elves pushed him, they were aware of that.

  He stood with his back pressed against the wall as the elves pressed forward. He felt, for a moment, a sense of peace. There was nothing left for him to fight for, he had gotten his revenge for Norvance. Why did he still fight? The moment of peace was interrupted by the Norvance’s voice. If Freedic let himself die here, Norvance would be ashamed for eternity. He leaped up and called a sword. It materialized in the face of the cliff behind him. He pulled himself up, then called another and began to climb.

  The elves grabbed at his legs and stabbed at him. They were close, too close for Freedic’s taste, at least. But he didn't have the strength to escape. Only to delay the inevitable. He looked down at the elves below him. Their attention lingered on him, they ignored the mage who approached them calmly.

  Ruephen walked toward the ten or so elves that were left. The mage glanced up at him with a look of disapproval in his eyes before he materialized a weapon in his hands. A glaive, the staff was as tall as his neck, and the blade extended over his head. Still, the elves seemed not to have noticed. By the smile that grew on his face, it appeared Ruephen thought that a good thing.

  He attacked with speed and precision, faster than anything Freedic had ever done. Three elves dropped before they even had managed to turn to face him. As he swung on another, the elf rose his sword to block. Somehow, the elf missed the block, and the blade of the glaive cleaved through helmet and skull. The few that were left—six maybe—charged together. He dismissed the glaive and raised both hands.

  The ground before the elves leaped up as long spears, two for each elf. They punched into the armor, some impaled the elves straight through, others broke on impact with their armor. It was enough to stop all of them. Once finished, he pointed a finger up at one of them. A flash of firey light went through the elf's head, and it slumped. He continued for each of the six, each slumped dead after the burst. He pointed to Freedic.

  Freedic recoiled.

  “Forec said not to die,” Ruephen said. “Did a shit job of that.”

  “I know,”

  "Come down now," he said. "Its a bit safer."

  "Safer?" Freedic asked. "You mean safe?"

  "Still a few hundred elves," he said. He pointed his thumb at the elves behind him. "Safer."

  "Fair enough,"

  He climbed down gingerly. The pain had set in.

  The orcs had rejoined the battle. The mages attacked with precision, only able to pick off individuals when they had the chance. The tide had turned. The elves had been put on the back foot. The orcs were on the attack, and the elves back. Behind them, he saw the two mages. One of them was fully engulfed in flames, Helien of course. The elves retreat would be fun to watch.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Chapter 13

  Forec watched as the elves began to move away from the orcs. Some at the back didn’t bother with the formality of retreat and broke out into a full sprint. Forec knew he could no longer contain Helien. He was already on fire—literally. Flames burst from the mage as if they needed to escape.

  Helien walked forward and left a trail of scorched footprints behind him. The elves tried to run past him. The few who passed too close fell in violent tumbles. Their armor melted, as did the skin beneath it.

  Helien laughed as more of the elves rushed towards him. Dozens of them dropped unceremoniously. He shot spears of white flame aimed at those that had managed to pass him unharmed. They fell into violent tumbles as well. Helien’s laughs only grew.

  Forec aimed his flames at the elves who continued to run. Each tumbled to the ground dead. But something felt wrong. It wasn’t as enjoyable. Ultimately, he would rather watch Helien work than. The only times he did interrupt and attack was when they had sneaked by Helien and began to escape. He told himself that he needed to conserve energy in case Helien tired out. He knew it was a lie, but it was easier that way.

  It took less than ten minutes. Hundreds of elves laid around a jubilant Helien. He danced and sang while he took in the scent of the burnt bodies. The smell made Forec a bit queasy.

  The orcs celebrated the victory with their weapons raised overhead. They chanted in their language. The mages stood before them, quiet and stoic. Above them, Vyra’s legs swayed over the edge of the cliff.

  Forec reigned in Helien once the bodies began to cool. They returned to the mages, gathered away from the celebration of the orcs. For the most part, they were untouched, though Freedic looked like shit. His body was a mess of bruises and cuts. His clothes were a mess of holes and tears. Ruephen sat on a rock next to him and mended the wounds as best he could—he never was much of a healer.

  “It seems you’ve had an easy time of it,” Forec said. “Freedic, you look like you were at the bottom of the orc’s celebration.”

  “Would have been easier,”

  “The talent killed many elves,” Ruephen said. “ A great fighter but a bit thick.”

  “Anything specific to report?” Forec asked. “Anyone?”

  “Elves burn nice,” Helien said.

  Ausa and Mauvia shook their heads.

  “They’re smart. Bad fighters, but adapted quick,” Ruephen said. “If they were better fighters, we wouldn’t be here.”

  “What of the orcs?” Forec asked. “Would they have stood a chance without us?”

  “They were biding their time, waiting for the elves to make a mistake,” Mauvia said. “The elves never made that mistake though. Impossible to say if they ever would have.”

  “They wouldn’t,” Ruephen said. “Too smart. Orcs might have been able to overpower them if they tried. Not very good fighters.”

  “Good enough,” Forec said. “Do any of the orcs speak?”

  “Somewhat, but not like Kura,” Mauvia said. “None worth talking to.”

  “Very well then,” Forec said. “Back to the camp, we’re checking back in with those idiots.”

  Forec opened a rift and gestured for the mages to walk through. Helien practically danced as he made his way through. The other three followed. Freedic limped there. Ruephen offered to carry him, but he rejected the help. Ruephen was never a healer.

  Vyra greeted them with a massive grin and applause. She congratulated the mages individually. She lingered while she talked to Mauvia and gushed over her. While she stood next to Mauvia, she gave Helien a thumb's up. When she reached Freedic, she started with the same praise. It soon turned into a string of mocks. She looked at Forec with a touch of disappointment and shook her head gently.

  “You were awfully boring,” she said.

  “I thought better of getting in Helien’s way,” Forec said. “Same as you did, it seems.”

  “That’s different,” she said. “He scares me.”

  “How do you
think I felt? The bastard set himself on fire next to me.”

  “I know, I watched,” she said. Her smile stretched from ear to ear.

  “Then what did you want me to do?” he asked. “Find some wood?”

  “Or put him out,” Vyra said. “You can make water, right?”

  “It didn’t cross my mind,”

  A man ran over and saluted to Forec, then waited with the salute still held. Forec couldn’t tell if that was normal. If he was supposed to salute back, or if he only had to say something. He decided to grin and nod. The boy looked at him with cautious eyes and held the salute, then glanced to Vyra.

  “Is there something you need?” Forec asked.

  “Word from King’s Hand Ters Versing to Council Mage Forec,” the boy said. “Shall I pass it on?”

  “Yes,”

  The boy looked at Vyra and then back to Forec.

  “She’s fine,”

  He cleared his throat. “The meeting between the High Mage, Kura’Gasa, and King Pharris has finished,” he said. “The King has decided on a tentative alliance with both the mages and orcs, details to be decided. Orcs are to stay out of cities to prevent civilian panic. Mages are to operate independently of Auverance’s armies. Any casualties caused by a mage will be seen as an act of war, and appropriate action will be taken against them.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Yes, sir,” the boy said. “Would you like to send a response?”

  “Yes. Though I doubt I should,” he said, then waved the boy away.

  “Sir, before I leave,” the boy said and turned back around. “Orders from High Mage Insmith Crissing.”

  “Get on with it, boy,”

  “Return to Krux Aev’then. Preparations require members of your team,”

  Forec sighed and looked over the camp. “Boy, those five mages, where did they get off to?”

  “Back to Krux Aev’then, sir,” he said. “High Mage sent messages for each of them to return.”

  “Wonderful,”

  The boy ran off. Forec rubbed his temples and sighed.

  “Mages, we’re on the move again,” Forec said.