by C. J. Aaron
The Leaves flared into life, their green blades burning with an eager fire. A wicked sword blade slashed at Ryl's head. What would have been a blur to the human eye was too slow to cause him harm. He ducked it without a second thought, sliding to his knees under the trailing edge of the spiked shield. The blood red spikes narrowly missed impaling him as they slammed to the ground.
The true target of Ryl's assault never saw him coming. The roar of anger that screamed forth from the wounded Lei Guard as it prepared to launch its strike at Ramm was cut blissfully short. Ryl's green blades neatly severed his head from his shoulders. A fountain of blackened blood poured from its neck as the lifeless body pitched forward, slamming into the crumbling bridge.
The walkway shuddered from the impact. Stones gave way, pulling the corpses down with it. A gap opened, swallowing the span of bridge toward the village. Kaep grabbed Ramm's cloak dragging him back as the stones plummeted away where his feet had been planted but a moment earlier.
Ryl and three Lei Guard now stood alone atop the crumbling remains of the center of the bridge. To either side, gaps of nearly fifteen meters separated them from the remaining pillars nearer to the banks of the shore. The street was now filling with the villagers, wide eyed at the spectacle they were witnessing as the battle waged on.
The three remaining Lei Guard charged as one, intent on forcing Ryl into the churning river. He sidestepped the assault, reached the top of the stone railing and launched himself over the Lei Guard; their slow-moving blades extended upward to strike, missing him by a matter of inches.
He struck the ground in a controlled roll that brought him back onto his feet; his body in a crouch, ready to spring. Ryl rocked back on his heels, his body twisting, leaning backward as a sword slashed at his throat. He felt the gust of wind from its passing brush against his neck. Without pause, he brought both Leaves up, his arms crossed in front of him to meet the shield that barreled toward his face.
Ryl slashed outward with both arms. The burning green blades sliced through the metal of the shield, splitting it neatly in two. The Lei Guard howled, a bloodcurdling unnatural scream, as the blade tore through his left hand. It backed away shaking the pieces of shield from its arm, blood flowing freely from the ruin of its hand as the others joined the fray.
Ryl found himself pinned between the two remaining Lei Guard; his agility put to the test as he dodged, parried and countered. The Leaves sparked gouts of green flame as they made contact with the wicked blades of his attackers. The heat from the flames distorted the air around them.
Clutching the wreckage of its hand to its chest, the third Lei Guard clumsily joined its companions. The sinking feeling of hopelessness threatened to ruin Ryl as he ducked under a vicious strike while blocking another with his right hand. His attackers backed off momentarily, slowly circling their prey like a pack of hungry wolves waiting for the kill.
The battle to this point had been intense. Ryl's focus had been on the nearly continuous onslaught that poured at him from all sides. With a chance to catch his breath, he took a moment to assess the abnormal feeling that had been growing in his left arm. The tingling sensation had increased steadily.
The circle of enemies rotated slowly around him; the injured guard was now at his front, the others just inside the outer reaches of his peripheral vision. Without warning, the injured Lei Guard lunged forward, its sword racing toward Ryl’s chest, intent on running him through. The guard to his right stepped forward beginning his slash high, while to his left, the black cloaked guard swung his sword low at Ryl’s legs. He was penned in—the simultaneous attacks came from all sides at once. He heard Kaep scream, her pained cry cutting through the air. The phrenics were helpless to intervene, relegated to watching his demise. He focused the woodskin over his body.
Ryl had not yet consigned his body to its doom. The alexen surged through his veins with a fury the likes of which he’d never felt. The tingling in his left arm became a throbbing, burning sensation that grew stronger with every beat of his heart.
Andr’s words flashed through his head.
The one constant in every fight is its unpredictability. Be the unexpected. Sometimes the more rash, the more foolhardy the plan, the greater the chance of survival.
Ryl roared as he leapt into the piercing attack. He concentrated on hardening the woodskin on his left hand and torso as he let the Leaves slip from his fingers. He twisted his body to the side. The razor edge of the sword tore across the skin of his stomach as his hand wrapped around the blade. Squeezing down on the weapon, the blade bit into his flesh as he wrenched his left arm backward, pulling the Lei Guard toward him as he spun. His right hand hammered into the back of the guard as he passed. At the same time, he released a torrent of wind that flowed outward in a focused beam into the back of the Lei Guard. The blast propelled the guard away from him, its wicked sword point now aimed toward the guard that had swung for his neck.
Ryl watched as the blade punched through the other guard’s chest. He’d switched places with the black cloaked warrior so rapidly that the others had failed to react in time. One sword severed the unfortunate guard’s head, the other bit deep into his torso. Blood rained down from the decapitated Lei Guard as it wobbled lifelessly on its feet. The second dropped his shield, clutching frantically with both hands at the blade that had penetrated its chest to its hilt.
The move had left Ryl off-balance and woefully unprepared. The flat wicked face of the remaining Lei Guard’s shield hammered into his side; his head rebounded off the solid metal rim between the spikes. His vision spun as he toppled from his feet. He frantically focused the woodskin on the entirety of his body, preparing for the inevitable following strike.
The heavy black boot of the guard caught him in the chest, robbing his breath, flipping him over. He gasped for air as he slammed down onto his back. Out of desperation, he waved his right arm, thrusting an unfocused wave of wind at the approaching Lei Guard. Ryl’s uncoordinated attack parted as it washed over the shield. The hood of his black cloaked attacker shifted backward, revealing the black stained lines running up his neck, branching out across his chin and mouth. The crooked grin was painfully familiar.
The blood red points that lined the edge of the circular shield bit into the stone of the bridge on either side of Ryl’s right hand. His arm was pinned down, trapped between the weight of the shield and the stone walkway of the bridge. The Lei Guard drove the tip of its sword into the stone at Ryl’s side leaving the blade wobbling unattended as it dropped its knee into Ryl’s chest. The pressure sent a wave of pain tearing through his body. A wave of hatred and malice crashed over him with renewed fury. The darkness surrounding them blotted out the sky, swallowing them whole. Outside, only dim shadows of his companions remained visible. The Lei Guard leaned in close.
“Tell me, tribute, how is it your tainted blood has not been harvested yet?” it voiced hissed with an airy, animal like growl. The hint of humanity beneath it toyed with Ryl’s mind.
The gloved hand closed high on Ryl’s neck, forcing his chin up. It twisted his head to the left revealing his brand.
“Ah, this is interesting,” it spat. The hatred swelled further, and his body felt as if it was being crushed beneath the added weight of the emotion. “A wayward herd.”
The hand spun Ryl’s head forward, as its face lingered close. The shadow of the hood was still too dark for Ryl to make out its eyes, although he could feel them boring into him, twisting like daggers.
“A pity, there was still time for you,” it growled softly. “It will be a waste, but the blood of your friends will suffice.”
Ryl felt the impact against the shield reverberate through his right arm. There was a loud crash and a breaking of stone as the projectile launched from the hands of his companions shattered against the barrier. Small chunks of stone rained down on his face. The Lei Guard twisted his head momentarily, looking back at the futile attack from the shore, his body still protected by the bulk of the shield. A
stone careened off the top of the metal rim striking a glancing blow across the guard’s face as he twisted his head away from Ryl.
The force of the impact and motion of his head ripped the hood back from its face. The tattoo on its neck sent a shiver down Ryl’s spine.
H1349.
The head was entirely hairless; the black stains leached their way up to the top of its skull, branching outward from the spine. Ducking slightly, its head whipped back toward Ryl.
His heart skipped a beat as he saw the face.
The last time he’d seen it, the crooked smile and wink were forever burned into his mind.
The face was nearly unrecognizable now, though Ryl knew it instantly. The usual carefree expression he recalled was gone. The face that glared at him now was contorted with unbridled anger, his mouth snarling like a wild animal.
“Elias,” Ryl choked as the gauntlet tightened around his neck.
Chapter 53
An instant of recognition flashed across the face of the Lei Guard, yet it disappeared as quickly as it came. The look was replaced by a triumphant, maniacal expression of glee as he choked the life out of his prey.
Ryl was helpless to defend himself. His legs convulsed uncontrollably and his vision blurred as the life faded from his body. Time flashed back to normal as he lost control of his skills. His saddened eyes pleaded with those of his friend, staring into their icy black depths.
Ryl opened his mouth to beg for his life, yet no sound save a quiet gurgle exited his lips. He felt his senses failing; his legs went still, his eyes struggled to remain open. The pain from the gash in his side and in his hand faded away into nothing.
Yet even as the rest of his body shut down, even as his senses failed him, the throbbing in his left arm reached a fevered pitch. His arm stretched forward on its own volition, the sun centered on his elbow pulsing with a golden light as it condensed, sliding down his forearm. The black tattoo filled in where the sun passed. The glow continued to intensify as it reached his hand.
Elias, or what remained of his friend, growled as he squeezed tighter around Ryl’s neck, intent on finishing the task. The light shifted as it left his arm, growing into a small, brilliant white ball that seethed in the palm of his hand. The throbbing sensation in his arm began to fade as the last threads of life began to fray.
The orb of light was blinding. Ryl could see only blurred silhouettes of washed out shapes as his eyes began to close for the last time. A final impulse surged through his veins. A veiled understanding that had remained hidden blossomed in his mind.
The answer was startlingly simple.
It was in the palm of his hand.
Peace had conquered the hatred that seeped from the Lei Guard.
Hope had vanquished the decisive feeling of failure they fought to instill.
Light would banish the darkness.
With every ounce of his remaining strength, he swung his left arm, leading with his open palm toward the chest of the Lei Guard. The motion of his hand was aided by the rushing of power through his veins and an unexpected magnetism that his oxygen starved mind failed to comprehend.
Ryl’s palm, fingers splayed outward, hurtled toward the heart of the Lei Guard. As it neared, the ball of burning white light focused, the sphere narrowing into a spike that extended outward from his hand. His palm slammed into the chest of his friend with a flash of light. His black cloaked body went rigid as the spike of pure energy and light burst through his back.
The hand around Ryl’s neck went limp. His frenzied gasp for air was excruciating as the blood and oxygen rushed back through his body. His lungs burned. The slashes on his side and hand screamed in agony. He felt the warm blood oozing from both, pooling on the ground around him. His left hand was still on the breast of the Lei Guard; he felt the energy pumping outward through his palm.
The connection was electric. Ryl felt as if his hand was stuck against his friend’s chest. The feeling flashed back to the unforgettable memory of the solitary occasion that his hand had contacted Kaep’s bare skin. The magnetism was similar, yet shockingly different at the same time. His connection with Kaep had been energizing, enlightening and exciting. The hand on his friend’s chest communicated unimaginable pain, suffering and ultimate cold.
The spike of light blossomed at its point, spreading outward like flares of light from the core of a star. The beams curled inward, wrapping around the body of his friend as it fell backward onto its knees. Elias' arms went limp, falling to his sides. The Lei Guard’s head rolled back staring up into the darkened sky above.
Still struggling to suck in every drop of precious air, Ryl squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head to the side as the cocoon of light surrounding his friend imploded on itself. The wave of light exploded outward, drowning the area for a moment in a brilliant, blinding white.
Ryl was still panting rapid shallow breaths, savoring every morsel of oxygen he could draw into his lungs. The air around him smelled a noxious mix of blood, smoke and the unforgettable odor of burnt flesh. He blinked his eyes open. The sky above was blue and clear. The mists of the morning still clung in places to the forest and river below.
He remained still for a moment as his senses regained control of themselves. He flopped his head to the side, wincing as the pain raced through his body. He lifted his left arm in front of his face. The tattooed surface had returned to its previous state, though the large sun that was centered on his elbow appeared to have dimmed a shade. A small smudge of a black dot had appeared in the crook of his elbow.
The monotone pitch of the ringing in his ears returned, slowly at first before ratcheting into a thundering force. Over the doldrum, he could hear the frantic calls of his friends from the shore. With pain and effort, he wiggled his body to a seated position, offering a feeble wave to his companions. He saw Nielix rushing toward the docks, barking commands at the stunned fishermen who stood frozen on the piers.
Hardening the woodskin on his right leg, he hammered upward on the side of one of the red spikes of the circular shield. Without the body weight of the Lei Guard pressing it down, his effort was rewarded as the shield shifted in the ground enough for his hand to slide out from underneath.
Ryl sat, rubbing his right wrist with his left hand, flexing his fist over and over. The scene around him defied explanation. The battle had lasted only a matter of moments, yet the devastation they had wrought was intense. Once spanning over fifty meters across the river below, the bridge had been reduced to a section of roughly ten meters that balanced precariously atop the center pillar. Close to either bank, the crumbling stone jutted out only a few meters past the sheer drop off of the land.
The final tendrils of smoke from the fireballs slithered away in the clean, morning air. Gone was the oppressive blackness that had once cast its hateful shadow over the area. At his feet, the body of his friend lay still on his back. Ryl raced to Elias’ side, leaning his head close to his face. His heart soared as he felt the soft passing of air against his cheek. The breath was alarmingly cold.
Ryl looked down at his friend. The Elias he remembered was still hidden behind a shadow of what he once was. His clenched eyes were sunken; his skin wrapped tightly around the sharp features of his face. The black stains that had spread up his neck, stretching out across his face had lightened—their jagged, hungry tendrils now flayed as they retreated downward. Ryl experienced a momentary pinching sensation akin to the poke of a needle on his left arm as he watched the black line fade and recede.
The realization of what he’d done was astounding though there was so much he was yet to understand. Had the light completely banished the darkness that corrupted his friend? Would the hatred and the malice remain? Would his friend ever wake?
If he did, what version of him would it be?
Ryl was snapped from his thoughts as the horror of the present situation set in. It was a miracle that he and his companions had survived. The overwhelming force of Lei Guard could have easily ended their pursuit to
free The Stocks. Could have, and nearly did, end their lives.
The entirety of their party was yet to be pulled from the fire.
Andr and Aldren were still in harm's way.
Ignoring the pain, Ryl surged to his feet. His balance corrected as he wobbled unsteadily. Without delay, he collected The Leaves that lay dormant on the remains of the bridge. It was with a feeling of profound satisfaction that he returned the weapons to their holsters. As he did, he viewed the gap separating himself from the shore with appraising eyes.
Nearly fifteen meters separated himself from the shore.
Ryl closed his eyes, inhaling a deep breath, holding the air in before letting it pass through his lips. The calm that filled his body with its passing was exhilarating. Without another thought, he bent down at the knees, hoisting the withered frame of Elias onto his left shoulder. He was shocked at how light his friend was. To an extent, all tributes were emaciated; an expected result of the paltry rations they were forced to survive on. The haggard shell of his friend was far skinnier than any he’d seen in The Stocks. His weight felt negligible draped over his shoulders. Ryl backed cautiously to the edge of the crumbling stone walkway on the forest side of the remnant of the bridge.
He closed his eyes one last time, envisioning the events to come. Time slowed again as he lunged forward. He could see the wide-eyed expressions turn to shock and horror as the realization of his actions dawned on his companions.
Ryl crossed the remains of the bridge in an instant, the wind swelling with the speed of a tempest around his right arm. His left leg coiled like a spring as he planted his last step along the crumbling edge of the walkway. The stones and debris rained down from the underside of the bridge as he exploded upward. His right arm thrust violently toward the ground, expelling the gout of wind that had collected. The force of the blast combined with the speed and strength of his approach propelled him out over the water.
