Elemental Rising

by Toni Cox

  When she opened her eyes again, she was momentarily disorientated. Blackness was all around her and she was reminded of the dream she had after she had come back from Earth. She started to panic, but then felt the rhythmic beating of Midnight’s wings. She relaxed and, after a while, her eyes adjusted to the scarce light. She could see Evan flying to her left, with the rest of the warriors spread out behind them.

  Evan nodded to her to acknowledge that she was awake. She could feel the wariness of not just the dragons, but the men as well. They had been fighting and flying for hours without much rest. She briefly spoke to Midnight, who confirmed the state of the other dragons to her.

  “The dragons need to rest. How far are we from the clearing?” She shouted to Evan over the wind.

  Evan pointed ahead and she could just make out a lighter patch of ground. They had made it to the gorge.

  The clearing was a flat valley, high within the mountains. It was cut through the middle by a deep gorge, a river at its bottom. For miles in either direction there was no way to cross. To get to the other side, one had to either fly, or cross the long rope bridge that spanned between the two sides of the gorge within this valley.

  The dragons landed. Midnight with a grace only known to the great dragons, the Battle Dragons with wings beating tiredly and legs stumbling as they touched the ground. Maia felt sorry for them, but there was nothing she could do for them now. They just needed some rest.

  Maia ran down Midnight’s leg and onto the yellow grass that covered the entire valley. She felt a little unsteady after so many hours in the saddle, but she soon regained her balance.

  The moons had travelled far across the sky since they had taken off on the other side of the forest. They were now casting an eerie glow over the valley and Maia could make out clearly the dark circles under Evan’s eyes as she approached him.

  “Spread out, look for spoor to see if they have come this way,” Evan ordered his men before he spoke to Maia. “Let us hope we are not too late. The dragons need to rest. We dare not push them any further.”

  “I agree, Evan, but Midnight assures me that the Vampyres have not come this way yet. Bring your men in and let them see to their dragons. Allow them some sleep while Midnight surveys the surrounding forest. He will alert us should the Vampyres be near.”

  “Thank you, My Princess.” He gave a crooked smile. “Maia.”

  Maia smiled back at him and then left him to speak to his men. She briefly conferred with Midnight, before he took flight and soared over the dark forest. They had landed about two hundred paces from the edge of the forest. They had a clear view of the ground between them and the tree line. Nothing would be able to sneak up on them undetected.

  She found herself a small rock to lean against, from which she could see the forest, as well as the dragons, and watched as the men unsaddled their dragons and rubbed them down with their blankets. Their dark, sweaty bodies were steaming in the cool air and their smell was almost overpowering. Anybody would be able to tell they were here. There was no hiding. The Werewolves, at least, would be able to smell them from miles away.

  The wait felt like hours. The men, and dragons, rested somewhat, but no-one was able to sleep. Midnight came back after a while, confirming to Maia that the Vampyres were still in the forest, some four miles to the east. She relayed the message to Evan and they re-saddled their dragons. They spread out in a line facing the tree line. No-one moved. Nothing happened. Nerves strung tight.

  “!!!” Midnight’s thought hit Maia so hard, it made her double over.

  “They are here!” she croaked, out of breath.

  Evan was immediately alert. “Where?” he whispered.

  “They are approaching the tree line, still about half a mile away, but closing. Midnight is sensing ninety life forms, of which forty-three are Werewolves. They must have picked up someone else along the way.”

  Evan relayed the message down the line of command. After a short while, even their dragons picked up that they were no longer alone. They lifted their tired heads, nostrils flaring, wings half raised. Another half hour passed without incident, before even Maia was able to pick up the Eläm of those approaching. The forty-three Werewolves felt very similar to the Battle Dragons, not quite person, but not animal either. The Vampyres, of which there were also forty-three, had only a very faint Life-Force and Maia struggled to see them clearly. The other four, however, were undoubtedly Elves. Her skin crawled as she wondered why the Elves would be with the Vampyres. Were they helping them? She shuddered at the thought.

  The Vampyres halted their march about fifty paces from the tree line. The forest was so thick, even this close to the edge, that they were completely hidden from sight.

  “What are they doing?” Evan enquired quietly.

  “They are waiting, watching us,” Maia answered.

  The dragons shifted nervously. A small gust of wind brought the smell of rain from the north. Maia shivered.

  “Everyone, mount your dragons,” Evan ordered.

  Within moments, everyone was seated in their saddles. Some of the dragons were growling. Smoke curled out of Midnight’s nostrils.

  “Three of them are moving towards us,” Maia relayed Midnight’s message.

  “Hold your positions. Arms at the ready,” Evan quietly ordered his men.

  There was a clink of armour and the scrape of swords being drawn as they waited for the Vampyres to approach.

  “Dywar, what is the range of their arrows?” Evan enquired with one of his men.

  “They have sturdy weapons that shoot a heavy bolt. But they do not always fly true and I believe their maximum range to be under a hundred paces.”

  “Let us move closer then. The moons are about to set behind us and it won’t be long before we are in complete darkness.”

  Evan moved his dragon forward, the others followed. About one hundred paces from the tree line he stopped again, just as a lone figure stepped out from under the trees. Maia noticed immediately that it was an Elf, a young man, and he was in bad shape. He stopped a few paces into the clearing. He called something, but his voice was hoarse and they could not make out what he said.

  “I don’t like it. What are they playing at?” Evan protested.

  Then, a second figure stepped out of the trees and joined the Elf, who was barely able to stand. The Vampyre grabbed the Elf by the elbow with one hand and then put a knife to his throat with the other. There was an exchange of words.

  “Retreat,” the man croaked again, now loud enough for them to hear.

  A commotion ran through the warriors, but Evan silenced them quickly.

  “They want to pass,” the man shouted, “or they will kill all of us.”

  The man was silent for a moment, then yelled, “Please, help us!”

  The Vampyre slit his throat in one quick movement and the young Elf slid silently to the ground.

  Maia gasped.

  “Do as told, or zee others will encounter same fate as ‘im.”

  The Vampyre’s voice had a strange quality to it. Quiet, yet strong, and it carried well to them. It sent shivers down Maia’s back. She watched him retreat slowly back into the forest.

  “We have to help them, Evan,” Maia pleaded. “They still have three hostages, we have to do something.”

  “We cannot go in there with our dragons. And we are outnumbered. Going on foot could be suicide.”

  Maia felt Midnight tremble as her outrage was starting to affect him too. Thick smoke poured from his nostrils and she knew he was ready for a fight. Even the Battle Dragons were becoming restless, itching for a fight with the smell of Werewolf in their nostrils.

  They waited. Nothing happened for another hour. The moons disappeared behind the mountains and to the east, there was now a faint glow of the coming sun. Evan frowned.

  “We need to move closer. Otherwise the sun will blind us once it rises above the forest.”

  He gave the signal and they moved as one toward the tree line. So
meone screamed. They stopped.

  As they watched the forest, two Vampyres stepped out of the trees dragging another Elf between them. They stopped just short of where the dead Elf lay.

  “Please,” the man said, “they have already killed one son. My wife and younger son are still in there with them. They want to go across the bridge. You need to let them pass, or they will kill them.”

  Maia could see the man had been beaten, badly. His face was already swollen and starting to discolour. Blood was flowing from a wound on his temple and the way he held his body, Maia surmised that he had at least two or three broken ribs.

  “We have to go in there,” Evan’s voice was thick with emotion, but so low, it did not carry to the forest’s edge. “It is the only way to get to them.”

  Dywar shook his head. “We’d be walking into a trap.”

  “I am aware of that, Dywar. But we cannot let them cross and we cannot let them kill these people. We have to risk it. We know this territory, are used to the woods. Their Werewolves are too big to manoeuvre freely amongst the trees. We will storm the tree line with the dragons on my signal. Once at the forest, we will dismount and charge. Stay together. Watch each other’s back. Are you ready?”

  Maia heard the soft acknowledgments from the men and then, at Evan’s shout, they were running for the forest. The sound of thirty dragons galloping over open ground was terrifying. Maia briefly noticed the look of surprise on the Vampyre’s faces, before they turned and fled, dragging the Elf with them.

  The Dragon Battalion came to a sliding stop as they reached the trees. Midnight let out a small stream of fire as he stopped, briefly lighting up the scene, casting eerie shadows all around them. Maia ran down his leg and jumped down. The others were already on the ground. As one, they all stepped forward into the forest, shields raised, swords at the ready. The dragons clacked and roared their displeasure behind them. Midnight shot another stream of fire high into the sky.

  But it could not be helped. The dragons could not go into the forest. The underbrush was thick and the trees hung down low. Carefully, they advanced. Maia’s nerves were strung tight, all her senses alert to any noise or movement. Midnight took to the sky. She felt him circling overhead, every now and again roaring his displeasure.

  As the sun rose slowly in the east, the light within the forest strengthened marginally. It was just enough for them to see, but still, the shadows prevailed under every bush, every shrub. They were walking in twos and threes, their backs to each other. The forest was thick and they had to spread out. Evan gave quiet orders as they moved on.

  The Vampyres had gone, but their spoor was easy to follow. The Werewolves had left deep gouges in the soft earth with their claws. For another hour they followed the retreating enemy. The tension was tangible and the worry that they were walking into a trap, was weighing heavily on their minds. Maia tried to keep her mind open to their enemy’s Eläm. Although the Vampyres’ Eläm were faint, she should be able to pick up those of the Werewolves, but she was so tense she struggled to concentrate. They continued unchallenged.

  The sun finally broke over the horizon and some sunlight filtered through the canopy. Immediately, the forest looked a little friendlier and they stepped forward with a bit more confidence. As they went deeper and deeper into the woods, they noticed that the underbrush was thinning. Small, open clearings allowed them to re-group every twenty paces or so. It made them wary, expecting an ambush at every turn.

  “Halt,” Daran whispered.

  He had taken the lead from Evan only moments before and now held up his fist for them to stop. Everyone held their breaths while they listened to what had alerted Daran. Maia heard it first. A stifled sob, then a moan. Then she picked up a faint Eläm and her immediate instinct was to run to aid the person in pain. She felt it as her own. The sharp bite of the broken wrist and ribs, the dull throb of the head wound, the burn of the abrasions on his face, arms and thigh and, finally, the pain in his heart from losing his son. It was Evan who laid a restraining hand on her, cautioning her with his eyes.

  Carefully, she looked around. They were almost at the edge of a small clearing. The trees were still thick overhead and no sky was visible, but below, the clearing was about twenty or thirty paces across, with a small, mossy boulder in the centre. It looked as if it could have been an altar during another time. If she looked carefully, she thought she saw runes etched into the stone. The moan came again and Maia noted that it came from behind the altar. Every fibre of her body told her to go to the aid of the man she knew was there, but she stood rooted to her spot, studying the forest around them. There was no movement in the trees opposite, at least nothing she could see, and she was unable to pick up any Life-Forces close by. Even the insects have retreated, she thought to herself.

  Evan motioned for his men to spread out left and right. Daran and Eyvin stayed with her and Evan. All their senses were alert as they cautiously moved forward. Nothing happened. They moved another few paces until they reached the edge of the clearing. They waited. After a few long moments, the man moaned again.

  “I have to go to him, Evan,” Maia said quietly. “Will you cover me?”

  Evan did a quick check on his men. They had moved around in a semi circle to their left and right. He gave them all a small signal and then nodded to Maia. She slung her bow over her shoulder and then drew her Twin Blades. Slowly, she stepped onto the grass into the open. Somewhere in the forest, a twig snapped. She froze. Then a bird started to sing and she moved slowly forward again. She reached the boulder without incident. The man huddled behind it looked up at her with pleading eyes. He was gagged and bound, unable to speak, but he shook his head and his eyes filled with sadness. She knelt by his side to undo his binds.

  “Look out!” Evan yelled behind her.

  She whirled around, swinging her blades and came face to face with the snarling teeth of a Werewolf. Until now, she had only seen them from dragon-back and had not realised how big they were. She breathed in its foul breath as it looked down on her, drool dripping onto her chin as she looked up at it. There was no time to wonder as to how long its teeth were or whether its claws were as sharp. Without thinking, she sliced through the beast’s throat with her blades and then ducked, rolled and came up next to the fallen animal to drive the blades into the chest of the Vampyre still on its back.

  Vaguely, she noticed fights going on all around her. Evan clashed swords with a Vampyre, Daran fought off two Werewolves at the same time. Then the next Werewolf was upon her and she had to defend herself again. Sharp teeth grazed her shoulder, opening a burning gash. She lost her bow. The heavy impact of the Vampyre’s long swords jarred her arms as she parried each stroke with her Twin Blades.

  Again and again, they came for her. Again and again, she killed to save her life. Each time she felt herself take a Life-Force, she felt herself weaken. Although she felt it more with the Werewolves, she was now also aware of the Eläm of the Vampyres. Her arms trembled, her knees were weak and tears ran down her face.

  She looked around desperately at the men she had led into this slaughter. Many were down, lying on the ground, bodies torn open, blood seeping into the soil. Evan was still standing, but she could see he was faltering too. Then there was another Vampyre before her and she lifted her tired arms to deflect the blow aimed at her head. The heavy sword came down on her, hit the blades and knocked them out of her hands. Her arms went numb from the shock of the impact. She scrambled across the ground, looking for a weapon as the Vampyre lifted his sword again. Her hands found a sword lying on the ground. She grabbed it, but it was too heavy for her to lift.

  She looked up at the Vampyre standing above her, sword raised. In her minds eye she saw Death standing at the edge of the field where they had trained with Midnight and she knew that this was her end; he had been telling her all along that he was there to take her. She had been right. She closed her eyes. The end would come now.

  She flinched as the sound of sword striking flesh
and bone reached her ears. She felt no pain. Startled she looked up. The Vampyre still stood, staring down at her, but as she watched his sword dropped out of his hands and it fell to the side. Then, slowly, his head slid off his shoulders and made a dull thud as it hit the ground. His body followed a moment later. She only just managed to avoid it landing on top of her. A small cry of pain escaped her as she scrambled to her feet. Her body ached and she was so incredibly tired.

  Frantically, she looked for her blades. There! If she could just reach them. She stumbled towards them, the sound of fighting loud in her ears and the smell of blood heavy in her nose. She gagged. She bent to pick up the knives just as another Werewolf knocked into her. She fell to the ground, winded. The beast stood over her, growling. She held her arms in front of her face as it bent down to bite. But the bite never came. Instead, a terrifying yelp came from its throat as suddenly a long, slender blade sliced through its shoulder, knocking it off her. Maia stared as Death followed the beast and ended its life with another swing of his blade. More Werewolves converged on him and he twirled and swung his blade with such speed that Maia was unsure about how many blades he actually wielded. Death dealt death with such precision, it was beautiful.

  Something knocked into her then and she became aware of the fighting that still carried on around her. The men that were left, had formed into a tight knot around the altar, close to where she was lying. They were holding off what seemed to be at least another twelve Vampyres. She got bumped again and she turned to her other side. A Werewolf was mortally wounded and barely able to move, yet it still struggled with its last breath to kill her. Pity welled in her and she finally managed to grab her Twin Blades off the ground and she stabbed them into the heart of the beast that wanted her dead. It used up the rest of the energy she had left and, as it took its last breath and its heart pumped its last, she finally lost consciousness and lay still.