Lighting Distant Shores

by Nathan Thompson

  That’s more than enough for a team to get there in time, I decided. Save power for now.

  I sent another message to the rest of my team. Guineve and Virtus, the skeletal commander of my militia, were still bound to Avalon’s land, so they couldn’t leave the shelter, but Breena, Val, the three Testifiers, my Gaelguard, and the fairies and elves that had started to accompany the Gaelguard all rolled out, along with Merada’s team and a handful of champions that had distinguished themselves in the war against the Hoarfolk. This time, the Icons didn’t have to divide their focus between multiple threats, so they transported our strike force with no questions asked. In fact, I didn’t even have to bribe Pan with drawing on me again.

  I know that last one, because I actually checked.

  I had asked him a few weeks ago, before the big battle with the Hoarfolk, about when he wanted to draw on me for our earlier deal. He had just laughed and said he was surprised I hadn’t noticed the deal was concluded yet. I had figured he was still teasing me, but then everyone who had heard him started snickering at me. So I spent the next few days checking every part of my body for hand-drawn obscenities. I never found it, no matter how much I checked, so I just scrubbed my entire body as hard as possible the next time I bathed. Apparently, that one prank was going to last him for decades, so he didn’t need any further amusement to continue doing his job.

  We departed as quickly as possible, using the Icon’s power to move our large group. The invaders were using three Pathways, one of which had seen a small degree of use, and two which were all but forgotten. All were within hours of travel on foot from one of the Woadland tribes’ borders, so there was yet another reason to arrive quickly, in case another monster like Raw-Maw came through to wreak havoc before we could stop him.

  With Icon travel power, and the planet actively trying to restrict entry, we arrived long before our enemies. I activated my new battle-link with two of the chieftains, who both took up positions around the other two waypoints, so that we could all coordinate what we saw.

  We planned to observe what came through, and withdraw immediately if we were outmatched, until we reached a distance where the Icons could operate at full power.

  But if we could, we’d slaughter them at the Pathway entries, so that they’d gather even less intelligence, and possibly give people more opportunities to Rise, since overcoming evil invaders hellbent on exploiting and ruining your entire planet counted as an opportunity for growth.

  This was all assuming the arrivals were hostile. Because there was a slim chance that this was not the Malus Men, possibly one of their escaped prisoners, or a hostage forced to deliver a message, we were going to wait long enough to confirm their identities before we unloaded the ambush on them.

  Have they used the Pathways to attack your people before? I messaged Merada. She was standing right next to me, and she shook her head.

  They’ve had the portals up until now, and preferred to use them instead. It let them strike faster and harder with a small force. But this be the first time I’ve seen them use the ancient ways.

  That was probably because Stell had regained control of her portal network. It wasn’t perfect control, since she was constantly on the run and forced to use it herself, but it meant our enemies would be denied its use, and that was the next best thing.

  There was nothing left to say, so we finished our preparations and waited for Woadhome to alert me when the Pathway was about to open up. The message came soon enough, shaking me out of my boredom.

  From the stone arches before me, a small group of hooded figures stepped out.

  All of them wore heavy cloaks that disguised their identity. I heard the clank and jingle of armor from a few of them, but the one in the lead was clutching a small crystal ball, staring at it while the two men just behind him were looking around.

  “Nothing immediately nearby,” the man said quietly. “Wait, something’s trying conceal itsel—”

  Now, I sent through the link, upset that they had found a way around Carnwennan’s shroud. But a moment later, it probably wouldn’t matter.

  Arrows, spears, hatchets, and spells fired into the group of over a dozen robed warriors. Many of them turned faster than I expected, raising hidden metal shields or creating magical barriers to block most of the incoming missiles. It didn’t protect them from the next step, though, as the fairies activated all of the magic traps they had placed. Sparks, fire, ice, and snares began erupting from the ground, and magical storms of hail and sharp stones began raining down on the group. They flinched in surprise, most of them dropping their guard as the second volley from my people struck them head-on. I wove some enhancement script magic through the air and tried to see what the Practitioner level of Fire magic would accomplish.

  The results were rather gratifying.

  A massive bloom of yellow, with faint tinges of orange and just a hint of green erupted right in the middle of the enemies. I saw magical barriers appear in an attempt to defend against my signature fire spell, flicker, then finally fail completely as heat washed over my enemies, making embers dance along the edges of their clothes. Another moment later, two smaller fireblasts erupted from both Eadric and Karim. They were mostly red and orange, unlike my own attack, but the blasts were larger. I looked and saw that Karim had cast the spell through several layers of floating script, and Eadric was now holding a small, glowing, recently-carved figurine, aiming it at the now-burning opponents.

  You guys got the Ideal of Fire too? I sent at the both of them. When did that happen?

  Conquering the Tumult unlocked a great deal of hidden knowledge for us, Karim sent tensely. Our comprehension isn’t Innate, and lags far behind our primary magics, but it’s more than sufficient for workings. Especially in conjunction with the Saga magics.

  When did you have time to craft a magic flaming statue? I sent at Eadric.

  Probably one of the times you were trying to get laid, Eadric replied casually. Best of luck with that, by the way.

  I bit back a reply and turned my attention to the screaming, burning hostiles that were attempting to scatter while being cut down by archer fire. The ambush had pulled off almost perfectly, and there was no question in my mind that the fight at my current position was turning into a rout. From my battlelink, I could tell that the other two ambushes were going almost as well, with no friendly casualties yet.

  Then one of the men looked at me, and dove for the crystal ball still rolling through the flames.

  “He’s here! Prime Target is here!”

  A lightning bolt from Breena cut him off, but the crystal ball kept glowing even when it rolled out of his smoking hands.

  More creatures are attempting to access the Pathway, Woadhome sent to me. Entities appear to be unnatural in origin.

  How are they entering at all? I demanded, because there was supposed to be a cooldown time between Pathway activations.

  Unknown, Woadhome replied. Unable to restrict new invaders’ access. Caution is advised. Incoming in three...two...one…

  Something massive burst through the giant arch.

  The stone archway was over twenty feet wide, but the wingtips of the monster still scraped both sides of the enchanted entryway. I had a brief glimpse of scaly coils before the monster cleared the distance and slammed into me. The force of the blow lifted me off of my feet, and I felt knife-sized teeth stab through my wards and nearly pierce through my armor.

  The pain was intense, but what was worse was that instead of falling back down, I found myself rising through the air, caught in the monster’s teeth. I heard Breena shout in surprise, and then heard more magical blasts tear through the air, as if more new enemies had appeared to distract my companions.

  In the next half-second, my brain caught up with my senses and began to process what had just happened. I was being held in the mouth of a large, flying lizard with a torso twice the size of a draft horse, a neck longer than a large snake, and a head with jaws as long as my arm.

&nb
sp; In other words, the classic description of a dragon.

  It’s not a dragon, dumbass! Teeth snapped at me. Not a full one, anyway. But check the amount of power and freaking number of limbs before you jump to conclusions!

  Right, I thought back sarcastically. I guess I forgot to do that when I almost got bitten in half!

  I had no idea how to check the damn thing’s ‘power,’ but it had wings, and legs, but no foreclaws. That usually classified it as a wyvern. Which, in the tabletop games I used to play back home, also meant a poison stinger that was probably about to stab me somewhere terribly inappropriate.

  No stinger, Teeth growled. Not always a feature. But yes, otherwise it’s an unusually strong wyvern. Because we haven’t torn our way out of its grip yet.

  That was true. I hadn’t been able to force my way out of its jaws with both hands, despite the fact that I was at least as strong as a grizzly bear right now. Furthermore, the wyvern’s scales looked… off to me, with some of them discolored and warped, with hints of black veins beneath them.

  Update complete, my mindscreen told me. Identifying hostile lifeform as a Chaos-based, Horde-based least dragon, type-wyvern. Said monster possesses the following mutations: enhanced strength, enhanced scales, increased tail size. Caution advised.

  Someone swore over my head, and as I looked to my right, I realized the dragon had a rider. A figure in black plate armor, complete with an evil-looking horned helm, as if he had dressed up like a dark knight on purpose. He looked like he wanted to use the long lance in his other hand, but was having trouble holding onto the reins attached to the wyvern’s head.

  An angrier, more feminine curse indicated that Merada had been caught too. A wild glance showed her to be caught in the monster’s hind claws, with the wyvern’s tail coiling around her spear, trying to wrest it from her grip.

  Then the reins ripped free of the rider’s hands, and the wyvern began to shake me like a rag doll.

  “Not while we fly, idiot!” The dark knight shouted. “Be careful with the cargo!”

  Despite having a mouthful of human, the mutated beast was still able growl out an answer. Hot breath blasted over me as the creature spoke.

  “Kill the traitor-prince!” The Horde dragonling growled, its muffled voice full of hate.

  The dragonling’s attack was painful and disorienting, but its fangs were still having trouble piercing my defenses. I got a hand free enough to summon Claimh Solais, and I immediately stabbed into the monster’s neck. The scales resisted me for moment, but then gave way to the short, glowing blade. The monster hissed and screamed as its vital guard struggled with the wound. It jerked its large head and let go, flinging me out into the air. For a few moments, I felt my body spin madly. Trees and sky swam circles around my eyes, revealing that I was a few hundred feet up in the air.

  Good thing I was a full-fledged Air mage now.

  My signature Air spells had undergone another transformation. They didn’t just enhance my Dexterity and protect me from ranged attacks anymore. Now, I literally had a cloak of air that could surround me at a moment’s notice. It still didn’t do that much to protect me from something like a sword thrust, but it could slow, cushion, and even halt my fall.

  If I really wanted to, I could even fly on my own power for short distances.

  But that last one would take too much time. I summoned my air cloak, slowing my spinning descent until I completely stopped moving and was facing my former captor. The monster was still snarling, but its vital guard seemed to be enough to arrest the damage of my cut, even though the wound smoked visibly even from this distance. But Merada was still in the dragonling’s grip, which meant I needed to bring the thing down safely and slowly. Her vital guard could probably make sure she survived the fall even at this height, but I sure as hell didn’t want to chance it any more than I had to. And every second the monster flew higher was a second her chances worsened.

  I used my sword to scribe the word aim into the air, while my free hand began performing the gestures for a Friction Slice. Then I fired the spell through the script, enhancing it so that it would home more easily on its target.

  The five foot wide, spinning disk of crackling air curved its way to the wyvern’s right wing, slicing through the unarmored membrane. The monster shrieked in pain as its vital guard struggled to preserve the use of the wing, but then Merada began stabbing it in the belly with a knife she had somehow drawn. The combination of so many different wounds finally overwhelmed its vital guard, and the dragonling began drifting downward. With another pained cry, it flexed its legs and hurled Merada toward an oddly murky patch of forest I had never noticed before.

  Something about those woods chilled me just as much as the sight of Merada tumbling into them.

  That, fortunately, went about as well as possible. The beautiful woman fell maybe a couple dozen feet above the treeline. She somersaulted as she descended, kicking against the top of a darkened tree, then bouncing toward another cluster of dusky branches. She landed with a tumble, but she was still able to wrap one of her arms around a blackened limb.

  I be fine, she growled at me over the mindlink. But watch out for yer own self before ye hit the ground!

  That was sound advice, but I still needed to take care of our aerial attacker before the trees obstructed my view of it. I pointed my free hand to fire a stored lightning bolt into its side.

  The blue-white bolt was the thickest and brightest blast I had fired yet, and it cracked into the large monster with enough force to send it careening through the sky, its rider catching the reins at the last minute to save himself, even as the current traveled up into him. The monster arrested its fall before it hit the trees, proving it still wasn’t dead, but it couldn’t be that far off.

  I hoped.

  Don’t let it get away, Teeth urged me. We need to finish it off. Quickly.

  I didn’t know what prompted Teeth’s urgency, because the wounded, smoking, bloodthirsty beast still showed no signs of wanting to escape. The monster corrected its course to fly straight at me, still bellowing with hate. Its rider had lost his lance and was now pulling out a large, long-hafted axe as he doggedly gripped the reins with his free hand. He seemed to have given up on controlling his mount and decided to just help the thing kill me.

  The monster crashed into me before I could cast another spell, but I had time to summon my shield and take the monster’s tackle at an angle. Then we were hurtling into the trees below. Limbs and branches cracked as we crashed through the upper reaches of the tall pine-like timber. I stabbed at whatever I could on the way down, but I was bouncing and crashing through tree limbs too much to really put much force into my blows.

  At last, we landed, all parties tumbling away from each other. I hurt like hell all over, but my script wards, signature Earth spells, chain mail, Icon padding, and magically toughened body were all being enhanced by my new Woadtattoo, so I had escaped having my bones and vital guard broken. I could feel my Blood and Water magics already working to heal the damage as I rose shakily to my feet. The Malus knight had apparently tumbled clear at the last moment, because he was already standing, watching me cautiously as he waved his axe in front him.

  “They weren’t kidding when they said you were full of surprises,” he said in a gruff voice, his face still hidden by his dark helmet. He stood still, axe raised to strike, waiting for me to make the first move.

  I didn’t. Because there was a giant goddamn dragon still unaccounted for.

  It’s not that big, and I told you it’s not a real dragon, Teeth protested. And oh shit, it’s coming—

  “Kill the traitor-prince!” Another bellow tore through the air, the Horde wyvern barreling into view, shredding underbrush and saplings as it charged me with torn wings.

  “Damn it, don’t take him straight on!” the Malus knight cursed, but the monster ignored him as it ran straight at me and snapped its teeth. I jumped backward and raised my shield just in time for the massive mouth to close arou
nd it. It started to shake its head again, but I tore my arm free just in time to avoid another ragdoll treatment, and sliced the monster’s snout with my glowing blade. The wound bubbled again, while the beast spat my own shield at my face. I got a limb up just in time to avoid a massive head injury, causing the wooden barrier to glance painfully off the side of my mailed arm and coif-covered head, dazing me for the split second the monster needed to slam one of its forelegs into my chest.

  The blow knocked me into a nearby tree and caused all my ribs to start shouting expletives. So far, my armor was still holding my body together, but the constant battering was taking a toll on my vital guard. If I kept going at this rate, I’d start taking more damage than even my incredibly robust vital guard could afford.

  I tumbled to my right as soon as I could move again. The Horde dragonling charged predictably into the tree I had been resting against a moment ago, and just as predictably whipped its tail around for another attack at my torso. This time, I dismissed Claimh Solais in favor of my heaviest weapon, the massive, enchanted Horde cleaver, and brought it down onto the tail in a two-handed swing.

  The impact sent tremors up my arms, but my weapon still crunched into the monster’s tailbone. I felt the vital guard struggle to arrest the damage and fail, before the dragonling’s thrashing tore the weapon out of my hands as it stumbled away, bellowing in pain. I pushed away all my physical agony, and leaped onto the monster’s back, crawling up its wounded neck until I reached the wound where I had stabbed it earlier. Then I summoned Toirneach, the axe of the Woadlands, and began hacking at the thing’s neck while I gripped its reins with my free hand. The monster bucked wildly, trying to fling me off, but its wings and tail were both torn, and it only had two legs. By the third swing, it started to waver, and by the fifth swing, the monster collapsed completely. I tumbled from its back just in time to see the Malus knight’s axe swing toward my head.

  I jerked away at the last minute, so that the weapon clipped my shoulder instead. The sharp sense of pain told me my protection had finally given way enough for the blow to leave a small gash, but I still retained the use of my arm. The other Earthborn swore in surprise as I stumbled to my feet a safe distance away.