Unfortunately, this attracted the troll's attention. He turned, rushing the elvish maiden with a roar. Instantly, Rragor flew at the monster, ripping into its leg as Kilren attacked at it from behind. The rogue stabbed the creature again and again in what he thought must be its kidneys. At least, that's where its kidneys would be if it did, in fact, have any.
The troll swung its elbow back; knocking the rogue off his feet but, not seriously injuring him. The wolf did not fare as well. The monster dropped its hand like a hammer, driving the animal into the earth and knocking it unconscious. It was standing relatively still, however, as it did this. Another shaft flew from the ranger's bow, rendering the creature completely blind.
The monster bellowed in rage, but quickly turned its attention once again to the rogue. It stood, arms spread, turning its head one way and then the other as Kilren rose. As soon as he took a step, the creature moved in his direction. The rogue realized very quickly that the beast could clearly hear him. It lashed out at him again and again; completely ignoring the blade that sliced into its flesh each time it did so.
Erana fired arrow after arrow into the creature's back, but the beast completely ignored her. Finally, she reached down to grab another shaft and found her hand empty. She sighed. There was only one thing to do. Drawing her scimitar, the maiden flew at the monster; slashing it from behind time and time again.
As powerful and resilient as the monster was, it couldn't perpetually endure these attacks. Kilren and Erana took turns stepping in and slashing or stabbing it before leaping quickly to safety. Finally, the beast began to teeter as its balance was affected by the significant loss of its thick black blood. At last, it stumbled and fell. The couple quickly sprang upon it and finished the grisly task they had begun.
With the creature defeated, they turned their attention to Rragor. The noble animal was still breathing and they had him conscious, if not fully aware, in just moments. The valiant creature would live. The couple sat down, side-by-side, panting for breath as the sounds of battle still filled their ears.
“Not too bad,” Kilren said, smiling at his love.
“No,” she smiled, “not too bad at all.”
As she said this, something else emerged from the shadows. It was the giant. Its massive foot crushed the skull of the fallen troll as it stepped into view.
“You know, that just really figures,” the rogue said, rising once again to his feet.
The eyes of the beautiful sorceress scanned the battlefield filled with concern.
“We need to rejoin our companions,” she said to the maiden at her side.
“But Darian said...” Gwendolyn began.
“It doesn't matter what Darian said, sweet child,” Sarena asserted. “The battle is changing and it's imperative that we adapt.”
Having said this, the sorceress took the maiden by the hand and began running toward the archers’ battle-line. The dark mist that was falling from the hills had already engulfed the melee. They had only minutes before the archers would also be enveloped; their friends among them. Her gaze passed over the elvish warriors, searching for her companions. She spotted them, but not before the vapors had begun to conceal them.
“We have to hurry,” said she, pulling the maiden behind her.
“What is this?” Gwendolyn asked.
“Magic.”
“I guessed that,” the maiden replied.
“Well, at the moment, my dear, I'm afraid that's all I know.”
Sarena's short answers and distracted tone surprised Gwendolyn. It was clear that the sorceress was worried. And worry was something she rarely, if ever, displayed. It was equally obvious that this mist, whatever might be causing it, was a reason for sincere concern.
The pair stopped within feet of the dark vapor. Sarena stared ahead, listening carefully. All Gwendolyn heard at first was the chaos of battle. Elvish voices blended with the roars and howls of wild creatures; yells and screams mingling in a chorus of war and death. Finally, the sorceress heard something she thought she recognized. It was Rragor barking viciously.
Sarena turned toward her companion chanting quickly to herself before reaching out and touching the maiden. Gwendolyn vanished. The sorceress then went through the ritual again, this time rendering herself completely invisible.
“Take my hand,” Sarena said, reaching out toward her companion.
As soon as their hands touched, they flew into the mist together; searching desperately for their companions. Through the din of battle they could barely make out the voice of Kilren yelling wildly. Their friends were being attacked, they would have to hurry.
The dark shapes before Sarena's eyes grew more and more clear with every fleeting step. At last, she realized just what she was looking at. It was a giant swinging a massive club at the dodging forms of her allies. There was no time to think.
Sarena reached out, chanting words of arcane power and filling her soul with the rage of battle. Fire leapt from her hands, engulfing the rune covered monster before her. The beast immediately turned its attention to the now visible sorceress, wading through the flames toward her, the tattoos that covered its body glowing in defiance.
Gwendolyn would not leave her friend to face this foe alone. She relaxed her mind, feeling everything around her; the sights, the sounds, and the power flowing through the body of the powerful sorceress. The maiden would follow her example. She could do it. She had to.
The maiden stretched out her arms, flames shooting from her fingertips. These jets of fire combined with those cast by the sorceress, increasing the effects of both. The power seemed drawn from them, almost against their will. The pair stood side-by-side, flames creeping further and further up their arms. Their eyes burst into flames, the ring on Sarena's hand glowing as if in the heart of a furnace. The heat from their attack blew their hair wildly behind them. The growing flames seemed to draw power from the mist and consumed the dark vapors that surrounded them.
Suddenly, Sarena dropped to her knees; extinguishing the flames that covered her. The maiden also ceased casting her spell; stumbling one way, then another, before dropping to her knees. The giant collapsed before them, its remains nothing more than a smoldering hulk.
“What was that?” the rogue asked, stunned by what he had seen.
“Synergy,” the sorceress said between panting breaths.
“Well, obviously...” he began.
“No,” she interrupted. “I mean, we call it synergy. Gwendolyn and I happened to be doing something very similar and, for some reason, it also reacted with this mist. I'm not sure we could do it again, and I'm very sure we shouldn't try.”
The maiden and the sorceress had burned away a large portion of the vapor around them. There were bodies everywhere. A short distance from where they stood lay the prostrate form of the warden Callin. The band rushed to his side to see if anything could be done for him. It was clear that he was mortally wounded.
“I'm glad you're here,” he whispered, a slight smile on his lips. “Please, tell my family I'll wait for them in the halls of Kaldor.”
“We have to help him!” Gwendolyn exclaimed. “Kilren, find Darian or Ian quickly!”
“I can try,” the rogue replied with a look of sorrow on his face, “but I don't think he has the time.”
Chapter 7: A Pleasant Surprise
“We have to do something!” Gwendolyn insisted, “We can't just let him die!”
“Well, I'm very open to suggestions at this point,” Kilren replied, throwing his hands in the air. “I don't see Darian or Ian anywhere. Do you? And, let's not overlook the fact that we're still basically in the middle of a battle!”
The maiden's eyes darted around the small area surrounding them, wildly seeking any source of hope. Clearly, there was no help at hand. All around them were the dead and dying. The sounds of battle began to lessen as the number of combatants did the same, but it would take time for aid to arrive. And time was something Callin had very little of.
The mist
that surrounded them had been greatly thinned by the fire of the sorceresses, but it still obscured much of the immediate view, not to mention the rest of the battlefield. They had no hope of attracting the attention of the elvish healers in time. If the warden were to survive, they would need to do something themselves – and they would need to do it quickly.
“Maybe you could heal him,” Erana suggested.
“I can't!” Gwendolyn exclaimed, her pulse racing. “We need Darian!”
As she said this, tears began to form in her eyes.
“He's not here,” Sarena observed, wrapping her arms around the maiden's shoulders. “Callin needs help now. You may not succeed, my dear, but there's no harm in trying. Not at this point.”
“I might kill him!” she exclaimed.
“I don't think you need worry about that,” the sorceress replied, shaking her head. “You're not likely to do that accidentally and, unless he gets help very soon, he's not long for this world.”
“Darian!” Gwendolyn cried, a touch of fear in her voice. “Ian!”
The entire band joined in this heart-felt summons, but neither of their companions answered.
“Alright,” she said, her voice shaking. “Alright, I'll try!”
The maiden dropped to her knees and held her hands over the wounded warden. What had Ian suggested? She had to think. She would have to bring her thoughts and emotions inline. Callin needed healing and she wanted to heal him. Gwendolyn focused on thoughts of love and joy. Images raced through her mind of her father and mother and Nanna, of the friends that surrounded her, of the last time she saw Callin hale and hearty, and the first time she had ever seen the noble Telian.
Nothing happened. She took a deep breath. It would have to work. She had to heal him. He couldn't die like this, he just couldn't. Again, she focused her thoughts on her love of life and all the things she found miraculous and wonderful. In her mind's eye, she saw the sun rise above Andor's Fortress and once again watched the unicorn drinking from the sweet flowing stream. She saw the young knight, his armor shining in the sun, as he healed the sick and injured. Still, nothing happened.
Tears filled her eyes as fear filled her soul. What was she doing wrong? What was she missing? In silent prayers, she begged the Eilian to help her. She pleaded with them to touch her and give her hands the power to heal. Suddenly, a strange and wonderful warmth began to flow through her. She opened her eyes to see her hands glowing above Callin's shattered body.
Instantly, his wounds began to close and some of the color returned to his face. Then it ended. She had done all she could. The power that flowed through her was burning in her veins. She suddenly felt nauseated, dizzy, and exhausted. The light coming from her hands died, but the warden would live.
“That's as much as I can do,” Gwendolyn said, leaning forward with sweat covering her face.
“That's enough!” Erana cried. “You saved him!”
“Thank the Eilian,” the maiden replied.
“Maybe not quite as well as Darian would have done,” the rogue observed with a relieved smile, “but not bad for a first try. Now, let's just hope we don't all get killed for not answering the retreat.”
“Sometimes, Kilren,” the sorceress began with a sweet smile, “you can be surprisingly wise. However, too many of these men are still alive for us to abandon them. We need to bring safety to us, rather than fleeing to it.”
“Do you have any ideas?” the rogue asked.
“Often,” Sarena replied. “First, fair daughter of the forests, I think you should collect more arrows. Kilren, you'll probably want to recover your crossbow, as well. Gwendolyn, you rest for the moment. As for me, I believe I'll thin this mist a bit more.”
Having said this, the sorceress threw her hands out before her and began to engulf the dark vapor in flame. She moved quickly up the hill, cutting a narrow path through the darkness as she passed. In less than a minute, she had reached the edge of the fog. From there, she was able to attract the attention of a number of rangers and spell-casters that had fallen back to a position not far away.
Several of them rushed to her aid and, after a few words of explanation, headed into the darkness to support her allies. Already the wind had begun to break up the black clouds and here and there across the battlefield were patches of sunlight. Once the elvish spell-casters realized they could burn the unnatural vapor away, they exerted their energies in doing just that. Within minutes a large area was cleared surrounding the spot where Erana and Kilren had taken their stand.
With their vision unobstructed, the wardens and rangers were easily able to keep the few enemies that emerged from the mist at bay. Priests and other healers flocked onto the field to attend the wounded. For the moment, the battle was over. However, it was hard to say for certain which side had gotten the best of it. The bodies of both elves and wargs littered the ground. Here and there, a troll lay unconscious. The single giant that had taken the field had been reduced to a smoking corpse by the sorceress and her student. Whether or not it had been victory for Innalas, it was certainly not the victory they had hoped for. The cost had been far too high.
The Telian and the warrior made short work of the troll. Although it had managed to get back on its feet and into the battle, it was still terribly injured. In mere moments, the lance of the knight and the sword of the captain brought the massive monster to the earth. Tealor slipped from the saddle and decapitated their prostrate foe before throwing the creature's head a few feet away.
“Do you think that will stop it?” Darian asked, staring down at the mutilated beast.
“I'm not sure,” Tealor replied, climbing back in the saddle. “Normally, I would say no. However, your sword seems to sear their flesh as it cuts them. So, we can hope. Either way, we don't have time to burn the body right now. Eilian willing, we'll get the chance before this is all over. If we don't, a lot of this may have been for nothing.”
The sounds of battle still surrounded the pair as they once again made their way up the hill. It was important to fall back as quickly as possible. If the enemy could continue pressing their attack, this battle might well become a rout. The warrior and the knight needed to lend their strength to the retreating soldiers. As much as they detested the possibility of leaving wounded soldiers on the battlefield, delay could cost even more lives.
However, when the pair stumbled upon an injured unicorn and the shattered form of its former rider, the Telian immediately leapt from the saddle. It was his duty to help those who needed aid, no matter what the risk. He didn't have the time to search the shadows for possible survivors, but he would take the time he needed to attend to this worthy warrior and his wounded mount.
The young knight rolled the unfortunate elf over on his back, carefully checking him for signs of life. There were none. Darian could do nothing for him; he was already dead. Not long ago, he had pulled Tealor's soul back from the grave and bound it once again to his body. But that act had nearly cost the young knight his life. He couldn't afford the risk this time. There were too many others that would likely need his aid before the sun set today. He wouldn't be able to heal the living if he had lost his life trying to save the dead. With a sigh, the Telian rose to his feet.
“There's nothing I can do for him,” he said, shaking his head.
“That's unfortunate,” the warrior replied, “but you did what you could. It sounds like our enemies are getting closer. We need to go.”
“I agree,” the knight nodded. “But, I have to heal this unicorn first.”
“I'm not sure we have the time,” the captain pointed out.
“We'll have to,” Darian replied. “It will only take a moment.”
“There's more to it than that, Darian,” Tealor said. “It's just a simple beast. How many injured warriors are going to need your help before the day's over? I don't think you can afford to waste your strength on an animal.”
“Normally, I'd agree with you,” Darian said, kneeling down beside the suffering crea
ture. “But this isn't just a horse. Ian told me that Unicorns are very intelligent creatures. It may even be able to understand what we're saying.”
Immediately, the animal whinnied in reply and did its best to sit up.
“Can you understand me?” the Telian asked with a touch of surprise in his voice.
The noble creature nodded its head in response.
“That could be a coincidence,” Tealor pointed out.
In response, the beast shook its head no.
“So, you can understand us?” the warrior asked.
Again, the Unicorn nodded.
“Well, that's it, then,” Tealor replied. “You have to heal him. I had no idea...”
Immediately, the Telian began his prayers but the unicorn shook its head violently in response.
“You're saying you don't want me to heal you?” he asked.
The noble beast nodded.
“Well, I'm going to anyway,” the knight replied. “I won't tax myself. I'll save as much of my strength as I can, but I have to get you on your feet... er hooves... We won't abandon you. We have to heal you or defend you – and the healing's going to be a lot faster.”
After the Telian said this, the unicorn relaxed and lay perfectly still. Darian asked the Eilian to fill him with the power he needed to aid the creature. His prayer was answered at once and the beast was standing in moments. It was clear that it was still wounded, but the knight had done as much as he dared. The noble beast would make it to safety. For now, that would have to be enough.
The pair again resumed their journey back toward their fellows; the unicorn following close behind them. A short time later, they were beyond the reach of the dark vapor. The commanders had only pulled their forces back a short distance from the unnatural mist. The elves stood, rank upon rank, ready to face any foe that emerged from the darkness.
The Beasts of Areon (The Chronicles of Areon Book 2) Page 14
