Aphrodite's Acolyte

by J. E. Spatafore

  Fidel's steps grew longer and quieter as he used many tricks taught to him by his second mother. His training as a thief allowed him to gain a quiet entry into the camp. As he approached the top of the hill, a half-dozen of Pravas' guards were looking in his direction. He slipped into a silent jog and zig zagged through the blind spots in their vision. He made a mental note of the positions of the perimeter guards.

  He approached a tent to his left and slipped to the shadows, making his way closer to the center of camp. Within minutes, Fidel was in the direct middle of the temporary fortress and ready to strike. He looked to the northeast, watching for the sign of Abby's entry. He saw the small human female scaling the makeshift tower's southern wall. His face tensed as he started to mutter his first spell.

  Fidel's enchanted staff started to glow, a light orange at first growing to a full red. Fidel launched his first spell, a staff amplified fireball, aimed directly at the south-gate sentries he avoided prior. The fiery explosion knocked all six of the sentries from their posts and leveled the wooden walls.

  The enemy camp jumped to life as the green-eyed elf danced, sending fiery blasts in all directions of the camp, his staff twirling with fireballs exiting the tips. Within moments, just about all sentries for the fort were out of commission. The entire camp was preparing to barrel down on the elf invader.

  Fidel had provided the sign for the four kingdoms to approach. Fidel took a deep breath as he saw the first platoon of attackers coming his way. Fear filled his heart as the unbearable odds became a reality. A situation that sounded logical in a tent a couple of days prior now seemed impossible and insane.

  He whispered to himself, “Have faith,” and began casting more spells, this time holding them within his magical staff.

  Abby watched from the tower as Fidel's enchanted staff started glowing green, appearing to amplify with every second. She knew the spell Fidel was saving up to release. It was her turn to start her mission. She scaled the walls of the tower using her iron claw gloves and dropping ropes every dozen feet. She made quick work of the tower and climbed over the top. Abby stayed against the wall as she saw archers answering the summons for defense.

  She looked over the wall and watched as Fidel battled opponents in an entrancing dance of parries, his staff still glowing and the magical halo appearing to grow larger and more solid in color with each second. She looked to the edge of the camp and saw the soldiers of the kingdoms slowly cresting the hills on all sides, moving silently but quickly toward the battle. The captains of the allies all rose their hand signaling a halt to their advance.

  She whispered, “Now Fidel, now.”

  Fidel, with his confidence growing and his skills surely shining, danced on the field, parrying any attack coming his way. An enemy struck high and his staff met the blow, the opposite side of his staff striking low and knocking the enemy from his footing. A low strike came in. Fidel blocked then countered with a jab served to the attackers head. Fidel spun circles, ran in arcs, and danced wildly as he worked the ranks of the onslaught.

  All the while, he chanted, his magical staff growing a halo that was now two feet in diameter and bright enough to blind any onlookers. All the sudden, the elf stopped dancing. The enemies surrounding him all joined together to attack. The elf raised his staff high over his head and brought the staff down hard to the ground, releasing the green halo in a huge blast of emerald light which spread outwards by at least one hundred feet.

  When Fidel looked up from the blast, he smiled wide as his enemies lay on the ground. None of them hurt, but all of them unable to move. He heard the shouts of the armies of the four kingdoms engage as metal clangs rang out all around him. Fidel turned toward the tower and started off to the door at the bottom.

  Abby witnessed Fidel's paralyzing explosion from above, admiring the elf's skills in both staff and spell. As the bodies of Pravas' cronies hit the ground, Abby understood it was her turn to disable the archers recently dispatched to the tower. She moved to the north wall, using the shadows to hide her cover.

  A dozen archers spread out on the south and west facing walls of the fortress. Their bowstrings hummed as they released arrow after arrow into the advancing armies of the four kingdoms. Abby pulled out her slingshot, a rudimentary device made of a single piece of thick wood and a string. She pulled one of her green vials from her satchel, placed it in the pocket of the slingshot, and pulled back hard. The paralyzing poison hit the west tower archers and rendered them immobile.

  Abby drew her daggers as one of the southern archers released one of his wooden missiles in her direction. Abby ducked and rolled forward, hearing the buzzing sound of the arrow fly overhead. She jumped up in front of the archer and made quick work of the ill-prepared distance fighter. Her knives slashed and stabbed, scoring critical hits and sending the archer off the side of the tower to a certain death.

  The second southern archer, a silvery human female matching Abby's size, let her arrow loose against the invading female. Again, Abby rolled away and came up to meet the archer. This archer, unlike the previous, was better prepared and had a mace ready for Abby. Abby slashed and stabbed, both attacks parried by this unusually fast mace wielder. The second remaining archer notched an arrow and pointed his bow in Abby's direction.

  Abby placed her back to the bow wielding archer and continued her offensive against the mace wielder, her attacks designed to move the mace wielder in front of her but out of view of the archer. Abby heard the twang of the bow as the arrow took flight. She immediately rolled to the right in a clockwise turn, moving to the side and facing the archer.

  The arrow hit its unintended mark with a loud thud and a groan from the mace wielder. Abby flicked the dagger in her right hand over and threw it hard at the archer, the blade scoring a direct hit in the man's throat. He dropped his bow and grabbed for his throat in a feeble attempt to save his own life. He stumbled backwards toward the tower edge and was just about to fall over when Abby's hand pulled him back in. Abby held her victim by his chest plate. She pulled her blade from his neck then released her hold, watching him fall the forty plus feet to the ground.

  The mace wielder, still grabbing at the arrow shaft protruding from her chest, started to panic as Abby's attention refocused on her. Abby stalked in and finished the poor soul with a slash to the throat. Abby walked over to each of the remaining and paralyzed silver archers one by one, cutting their throat to end their threat. She wiped the blood from her daggers on the final archer's tunic, then advanced toward the door to the tower.

  The dwarf approached the back of the minotaur pen as Fidel's paralyzing circle reached through the walls and froze all the silvery bull-headed creatures in place. He watched as the minotaurs expressions turned to surprise as they found their feet, and subsequently their bodies, would not respond to their commands.

  Immune to the paralyzing blast by Fidel's spell prior to battle, Noxater entered the pen with a large grin on his face. He saw the fear in the minotaurs eyes as he approached, pulling his double-headed axe from his back. He couldn't help but feel pity for these creatures as it was almost too easy. Then he remembered his previous run-in with one of these foul beast's brother. His orange eyes flashed wickedly.

  He cut down each minotaur with haste, his axe quickly severing bone and tendon alike. The dwarf made his way to the front door of the pen and opened the door slowly, observing the battlefield before him with thousands of disabled troops sprawled out, ready for slaughter like cattle. The dwarf smiled wickedly and whispered to himself, “That clever capt'n.”

  Abby reached for the metal door handle and depressed the single lever, hearing the slight clink as the metal pin disengaged. She pulled the door open to enter the interior when a fiery blast knocked her from her feet and sent her flying the thirty feet to the opposite side of the terrace, the raised edges of the tower preventing her from flying over the ledge. Abby's face recoiled in pain, not from the blast of the fireball. The pain came from the splinter of wood protruding fro
m Abby's side.

  A grinning blue-eyed elf walked out through the door's opening. The male wizard approached Abby, his tone was dark and mocking. “Abigail Lapillus? Do you really think a thief of your stature can bring down the great Pravas Medeis?” The wizard raised his hands once more, this time emitting blue-tinted streaks of electricity from each of his finger tips, each streak burying into the human rogue.

  The metal buckles on her black leather armor turned red as the electricity did its work. The electricity didn't bother Abby, the magical barrier provided earlier in the evening held the mage at bay. Abby pulled hard on the unintended spear protruding from her side, trying to pull the plank through.

  The wizard showed signs of frustration, noticing his spells had no effect on this thief. He ceased his lightning and raised his hands again. This time, a transparent bubble surrounded Abby and she felt herself being pulled upwards. She heard the crack of the board as she pulled free from the wall and rose five feet into the air. Abby saw the edges of the wizard's grin grow higher as he turned her around to face her death.

  As Abby cleared the edges of the tower wall, seeing the forty-foot drop in front of her, she realized the wizard's plan. She quickly reached into her satchel and grabbed a small vial of orange liquid. The rogue placed the orange vial in her mouth and closed her eyes. The wizard released the magical bubble, sending Abby plummeting toward the ground. Abby hoped her idea was going to work.

  The battlefield was littered with unmoving bodies, many of which were corpses. The armies of the four kingdoms were striking down their victims as quickly as they could, butchering the silvery defenseless creatures.

  Noxater smiled as he saw his elven companion enter the tower using the front door, a fitting entrance to the elf's very direct personality. He looked to the top of the tower for signs of Abby's task being completed. He saw the last moments of Abby's demise as the rogue crested the tower and hurtled down to the land below. The dwarf's heart sank as he saw the human free-falling toward the ground. He quickly sprinted in the direction of his fallen comrade as fast as his short and stubby legs could carry him.

  The blue-eyed wizard approached the side of the platform immediately after he tossed the human rogue. He looked down at the scene of Pravas' minions being slaughtered by the four kingdoms. His wicked grin left his face quickly, being replaced by a look of concern.

  He raised his arms high and started chanting, his fingers flicking in rhythmic patterns. His black hair snapped in the wind as his hands started to glow white with magical energy. The sorcerer's voice reached a crescendo as he snapped his arms forward and together, a white beam striking from the tower to the center of the battlefield where Fidel stood a few moments previously.

  The beam hit the ground and spread out wide. As the white circle spread, solid green light dissipated quickly around his non-slaughtered companions, effectively canceling the paralysis spell Fidel summoned moments earlier. The silvery bodies not yet slaughtered rose to the battle and the soldiers of the four kingdoms paused to regroup.

  The wizard smiled wide, seeing at least half of Pravas' minions were still alive and up for the fight. He looked down toward the minotaur pen. His smile faded as he realized a significant power in the group had been slain.

  Captain Sizod looked up from the western side of the field, catching eye of the wizard and wondering whether or not Abby made it into the tower.

  Noxater winced as he watched Abby hit the ground hard, her body appearing to snap in two on the uneven ground. He raced toward her in a panic. As he approached, Abby sat up straight and looked up toward the top of the tower. Noxater skidded to a halt within a few feet from her, his jaw dropped open in surprise. “Thee elf's spell saved ye?” the dwarf asked incredulously.

  Abby pulled some shards of glass from her lip then flicked them toward the dwarf. “No, not Fidel's spell. My potion!”

  The dwarf smiled and offered a hand to help the human up to her feet. As Abby tried to rise, she found she could not move her legs and the splinter of wood was still in her side. Abby pulled a large flask filled with orange liquid from her satchel. She pulled the wood from her side and cut a deep gash in each leg. She poured a generous helping of the potion over the wounds.

  Noxater, being the first time he witnessed the work of the potion on others, stood in awe as he watched the potion mend the bones, tendons, and muscles in Abby's legs and side. A few moments later, Abby stood tall in front of the surprised dwarf. The dwarf whispered, “So that's how ye fixed me up?”

  Abby nodded her head and looked up at the top of the tower. Her eyes narrowed as she focused on the wizard, wanting nothing more than to watch the beast suffer a horrible and agonizing death. Abby brushed herself off and stared up the side of the tower and then to the door Fidel passed through earlier. “What do you think, dwarf? Door or walls?”

  Noxater looked to the tower, then to the door. “I like to keep me feet on thee ground.”

  Abby grinned wickedly, “The wall it is. Let's go!” Noxater shook his head and followed the woman over to the wall. They started their climb to the top of the tower.

  Upon entering the tower, Fidel was able to sneak past the first floor guards without much effort. The distractions outside kept the guards interested in their forthcoming battle to defend the tower's wicked owner. Once he cleared the first floor, the elf found the guards on the second floor were much more attentive to their surroundings.

  Fidel's head barely peeped over the top of the stairs as an arrow flew past, barely missing the elf. Fidel jumped up the remaining steps and rolled behind a stand holding a single vase filled with black roses. Another arrow flew by, hitting the wall behind him. A third arrow hit the vase and knocked it to the ground, spilling the flowers and dirt. Two of the three silvery guards pulled their swords from their scabbards while the third stayed back and notched an arrow.

  Fidel stood up tall to watch the approaching swordsmen. He pulled out his staff, twirled it in his hands a couple of times and finally pointed the tip at the archer. A red streak of flames erupted from the end of the staff, directly toward the archer.

  The archer's eyes sprang open as the impending doom hurled at him. He dodged to the side, twisting his body to avoid the flames. The flames caught his bow arm, catching the wooden missile launcher on fire along with the leather sleeve of his fine armor. The bowman yelped in pain and quickly squatted to the ground in an attempt to put out the magical flames.

  The swordsmen attacked. Fidel backed up as he parried the blows from the sword bearing soldiers. He twisted and twirled, waiting for his opportunity to strike back. Swords came in high and low, an attack sequence a master staff wielder like Fidel had no issues countering.

  Just like on the battlefield, Fidel's staff started to glow green as he channeled his magical energy into the staff. Unlike on the battlefield, Fidel let the paralyzing magic loose on the next parries. The green glow of the staff traveled through the swords of his attackers, their eyes growing wide in surprise as the energy forced their swords to drop to the floor and worked its way down the length of their arms.

  The soldiers looked to each other and shared a shocked expression just in time for the edge of Fidel's staff to smash into the face of one. The second attacker turned his head to Fidel, his face begging for mercy as the second end of the staff smashed in. With both attackers down, Fidel jetted forward and burst through the door the attackers were apparently guarding.

  The room was an armory, full of various weapons and armors. No sign of further inhabitants remained. Fidel turned and headed toward the third flight of stairs. As he climbed, he heard the door fling open on the bottom floor along with several voices shouting orders to defend the keep.

  Abby and Noxater continued their climb up the side of the tower using the ropes Abby set in place during her initial ascent. They picked up the pace and paused to watch as a silver ray of light streaked down to the battlefield below.

  The duo observed as the streak slammed into a green and brow
n armored elven soldier, knocking him to the ground. The streak bounced to a red and white cloaked human, sending him flying to the side. A third ricochet of the bolt knocked an orange and red clothed soldier twenty feet across the field.

  The streaking white fire continued to knock targets down one at a time. Abby looked to the top of the tower, watching the blue-eyed sorcerer smiling with glee as he directed his searing bolt on the battlefield below. Oh how Abby hated wizards. Noxater pushed on Abby's leg, urging her to continue on. The duo continued their climb as quietly and quickly as possible.

  Fidel reached the top of the third flight of stairs, the level filled with several rooms. He intended to climb the remaining floor but something pulled at his instincts to go down the empty hallway. He walked down the torchlit corridor, listening at each door before opening slowly. The first two rooms appeared normal, no evidence of current occupants.

  As he opened the third door, he thought he saw a movement in the corner of the empty room. Upon inspecting closer, he saw nothing and turned to leave. A faint grunt caught his attention so he entered the room fully and closed the door, locking it. He scanned the room closely, nothing appearing out-of-place but still heard the faint sound of a grunt. He heard the grunt again, sounding like it was directly in front of him.

  He reached out in front of him and felt nothing solid. The air, however, was cold as he put his hands through the mysterious void. He walked into the unoccupied space, his body turning cold but not feeling anything more. The grunts grew more frequent and louder, sounding like the voice of his elven friend. Fidel whispered, “Cap? Is that you? Where are you?”

  The grunts continued along with the sound of a chair rocking and tapping the wooden floor. Fidel whispered, “What magic is this?” He grew frustrated, knowing his childhood friend was around somewhere but unable to do anything about it.