by Tom Hansen
And he needed to find a way to change that.
If there were no weapons in the arena are able to smash it into dust with a single blow, he would just have to find something else that could.
He thought about trying to knock it over, smash it on the ground, then use their weapons to break it up, but that wouldn’t do much good, and the ten of them couldn’t possibly break it up enough to take on the hundreds of Nagos coming at them.
He looked out over the sea of blue and a knot formed in his stomach. Hundreds of gleaming tridents and bows grasped in scaly hands, ready to slaughter. He swallowed. This wasn’t going to end well.
At the edges of the arena, the last of the Nagos troops finished filing in. Their numbers had seemed to grow exponentially. Five-hundred of the enemy, possibly six. The crowd was too massive to count.
They were a well-practiced group, each one moving in unison with their neighbor. It was impressive.
It is more than impressive, Scarhoof thought. It is impossible.
It was one thing for a bunch of soldiers to be able to march in time for a display, a faire, or celebration. Timing your steps could be trained, but that was in the best of circumstances.
This wasn’t a parade. Six hundred Nagos soldiers bored down on ten well-armed, well-trained Tau’raj.
Some of those Nagos had to be realizing they were going to die.
That sort of fear had to put something into your brain, at least enough to trip up your well-rehearsed march.
A thought rose to the surface of Scarhoof’s mind just then. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but something Spirit told him suddenly made sense.
This wasn’t a display of skill or practice from hundreds of troops, something bigger was going on.
These troop movements simply shouldn’t exist the way they did. They were … wrong … somehow, yet he didn’t have an explanation for why.
There was a mechanical nature to some of them that was suddenly very clear.
Scarhoof shook his head to clear his errant thoughts. The threat of the multitude of Nagos, odd or not, was still very real, and despite his small group’s prowess, they were vastly, overwhelmingly, outnumbered.
He shoved the thought out of his mind. Now was not the time to dwell on this.
He glanced at his Shaman trainer, Helu Hillbender, who’s gaze looked out over the horizon at the throng of enemies and back down to Eldermother.
He’s worried about his wife.
Scarhoof knew the feeling and wished he could comfort the old bull. He’d been a huge help thus far with his lessons, and bits of information doled out over their time together. He hadn’t just taught him how to be a Shaman, he had taught him about life, about himself, and about taking care of others. They were lessons that Scarhoof would cherish. He had learned so much from Helu that he didn’t know how he could possibly repay him, all the training and the spells.
The spells.
Not everything Scarhoof had learned had been explicitly taught, like patience, meditation, and a certain teleport spell. Something clicked in Scarhoof’s mind.
The beginning of a plan started to form. It was risky, but most good plans were.
He glanced up into the sky, watching the zeppelins float in their lazy circles.
The plan clicked into place. It would most likely end in his death, but not doing something was going to get them killed.
He knew how he could save the raid, and possibly kill the Nagos. He just needed to get everyone out of there.
“We’re not going to survive this here,” Scarhoof said, glancing around the arena at the wall of upturned ships.
“Nonsense, soldier. Stick to your training.” Bloodhorn replied, stamping a hoof to the ground and beating a fist into his shield. “Everyone, clump together, we’re going to have a nasty fight on our hands!”
“Nice attitude,” Xanovi replied, leaning over at Scarhoof.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” Scarhoof cleared his throat, addressing the whole raid. “You fought on the edge of the boat, to limit how many Nagos came at you at any given time. Down here on the arena floor with the rising water, we’re not going to survive.”
Scarhoof pointed to the ship the other half of the raid had been on. “Up there you had the high ground, and most importantly, you had only a handful of Nagos able to reach us.
Scarhoof glanced up into the sky, noting the airship, still floating lazily around in circles.
It was the last airship he’d been on before the fighting started, and it had been flying in circles the whole time.
“Rigimex, you see that airship up there?”
The Goblin mage looked up into the sky, squinting. She nodded once.
“That was the last airship you sent me to. Are you able to pinpoint the insertion point you used for the last portal?”
She closed her eyes for a second, her eyelashes fluttering back and forth like she was reading an invisible book.
“It’s faint, but I can see the residuals.” Her small voice was difficult to hear over the thundering movement of the Nagos troops, but he got her gist.
“I’m going to need you to open a portal underneath the shard to there. Can you do that?”
She looked between the two locations, finally nodding. “I can.”
“Good, then as soon as you have done that, I need you to open a portal to safety. Get us all out of here, back to the army, just nowhere near this arena.”
He pointed into the sky addressing his raid. “If we can get this shard into that Zeppelin, and drop it on this location, it will smash into dust so fast that it will instantly vaporize, mixing with the seawater. The mixture will surely kill everyone here, so we must get ourselves to safety.”
“Rigimex, go ahead and open both portals, please.”
She nodded and began chanting.
“Arrows!” Bloodhorn yelled, raising his shield as the first of the Nagos archers got into range. “Tighten up and get your shields facing outward!” An arrow bounced off his shield with a metallic clink.
Scarhoof thought about the modified Tether Recall spell to port more than yourself, reciting the extra syllable over in his head. He had to get it right for this to work.
He hesitated, remembering his promise to Nitene to never experiment with spells. Had no other choice, they would all die if he didn’t do this. I’m sorry, Nitene. I’m doing the best I can.
He bent down, placing his palm on a large, flat rock embedded in the soft sand. He noted the location, the rise in the rock formation. The center was ever-so slightly raised, like small dais. The thick sandstone platform was moments away from being covered in the rising water.
It was perfect.
He said the words for Spirit Tether Bind to lock himself magically to the stone. Spirit flowed from that special tranquil sea inside of him, surging through his arms, and binding him to the stone. A circular rune-filled Yantra etched itself magically into ground, marking his binding spot.
Hillbender gave him a curious look, one of his furry gray eyebrows cocked up. “What are you doing?”
Scarhoof flashed him a grin. “Winning the war for us.”
Eldermother shoved her husband aside, a determined look on her face and a finger in the air. “Oh no you’re not. I will not allow you to go on a suicide mission.”
The whole raid gasped as they realized his true intention.
Scarhoof grimaced. “There is no time to argue. We must get this done. It’s the only way. Helu, promise me you’ll take her through that portal?”
Helu, looked at him his eyes stony and wide. He nodded.
Rigimex finished the spell and the massive shard began to slide slowly into the portal. She turned and began casting the second portal. There was a gentle thudding sound, and she let out a quiet gurgle, her face contorted in pain.
Two arrows protruded from her neck. Her eyes were wide as she continued to try to mouth the words to the spell. Magic pooled in her hands and a slight glimmer of a portal began to f
izzle in front of her. Blood gushed from the wounds, pouring down her tunic.
“No!” Scarhoof’s cry was echoed by the rest of the raid.
Upon seeing her health plummet, Scarhoof began to cast Mending Force only to fail. She was already dead.
Bloodhorn was by her side and caught her as she fell to the ground. Her body was limp, and her face bore a waxy complexion.
Scarhoof looked back at the shard. It had fallen halfway into the portal already. There wasn’t any time for another plan. The shard was already on its way to the airship. He needed to teleport that shard to this spot or it would be for naught.
“Hillbender, get them out of here, back to the ship!” He pointed to their original location on the overturned ship.
“Go! I will handle the shard! I’m already bound!” He tossed his waterskin of Mother’s Tears at the old bull hoping it would be enough to protect them.
The Nagos army sped up.
Scarhoof leapt with all his might at the shard, latching onto it with his hands and hooves, grappling for purchase on the jagged crystalline structure. It continued to slip into the inky blackness of the portal, faster and faster with each heartbeat.
Air Shardtouch appeared as a buff just as the portal began to close around him.
He just needed to hold on until he was through the portal.
Behind him, he felt the tell-tale snap of Spirit as Hillbender grabbed raid members and teleported them to the boat.
An arrow embedded into Scarhoof’s side, knocking off 20% health. Warmth flooded his back as blood dripped down his leg. He winced through the pain but refused to loosen his grip on the shard.
He was shoulder height with the ground now, his eyes on the mass of Nagos swarming the platform.
The last thing he saw before he slipped below the horizon of the portal was the looming head of Grath’gar as he charged with anger at the platform.
They locked eyes for a moment and Scarhoof gave the largest grin he could muster.
Gravity kicked in as the portal swallowed up the shard and they sunk into the ground.
Then, someone landed on top of him, grabbing his hand and screaming. “I’m coming with you!”
Chapter 43
The early morning sky was complete chaos. The portal tore through all the key components of the zeppelin. Pieces of wood and metal rent from the airship fell into the abyss below. The huge shard, nearly as big at the Zeppelin itself, lodged through the hull, nearly splitting it in two.
Scarhoof’s stomach lurched as he watched pieces fall off. The ballonette hadn’t been breached and the hunk of junk continued to float, for now.
Eldermother clung to his neck, squeezing hard and making him feel light headed.
The zeppelin groaned. A sharp whine filled the air. He felt the ship lurch as whatever mechanical engine that kept the airship moving broke down. His stomach was in his throat, and he tried to ignore the fact that he was about to purposefully plummet to his death. They had a few seconds until the shard fell out of the bottom.
“Why did you come with me?” Scarhoof yelled at Eldermother.
“You need my Air magic to help guide the shard!”
She jumped off his back, landing on the fractured wooden floor of the zeppelin.
The entire airship groaned. The planks shifted beneath his feet and the high-pitched whine continued to ring though the air. He tried to slow his breathing as the ship began to slow its forward motion.
Above them, the balloon that carried the whole contraption hissed and shuddered.
Looking down, he realized they were at least a couple hundred meters inland, some ways away from Nagos army. He had vastly misjudged the location of the zeppelin above them before porting up.
His mind spun. He had doomed them both to die and left his team short a healer. He had no other bind points to get her to safety. His entire plan hinged on him being able to warp the shard to the rock in the middle of the Nagos army, alone.
Eldermother cast a spell, encasing the massive shard in a covering of compressed air, then jumped onto the shard, grabbing on with her aged hands. “See? I got this. You teleport yourself back to safety. I will not let you sacrifice your life, Spiritmother has need of you. I promised Her I wouldn’t let you die.”
Scarhoof repositioned himself on the shard’s massive surface, gripping tightly. He wasn’t going anywhere. This was his plan, his life to give. Why did she have to be so impetuous?
A high-pitched human scream pierced the groans of the airship, and something small jumped onto his back.
“Get me out of here! He took the last parachute! I don’t want to die! Help me!”
It was a female Litlin, short, blue-haired, and high-pitched voice, the same one that Jaxyl had knocked out before disabling the zeppelin.
Scarhoof had forgotten she must be up here, and without a parachute, she was as good as dead.
Guilt flooded his chest. He was now responsible for one more death today.
Around them, a wooden rending sound indicated the zeppelin’s time in the air was over. He tried to calm his racing heart.
A massive beam from the broken zeppelin swung at them as the air shard tore through the hull, falling out of the bottom.
The beam slammed into his back, and the Litlin grunted from the blow.
He reached behind, grabbing her limp body and cradling her in his arms. She still breathed, and even though they were all going to die, he could at least try to protect her. He slipped her into the satchel at his waist and lashed her to his chest so he could keep his arms free.
The airship finally gave out, and the three hovered in the air for a scant moment before the full weight of the Air Shard took over.
Wind whipped his leathers as the ground began rushing up to them. He couldn’t see. Air pulled at his face, contorting his hide.
“Shit!” The words were stolen from his lips by the wind.
He reached over to Eldermother, grabbing onto her hand. He tried to copy Hillbender’s words, to transport not only him, but Eldermother and now the Litlin, back to safety.
Magic coursed through him, but nothing came of it. His hands burned like he had touched hot coals as the pent-up energy from the magic had nowhere to go.
He tried again, despite the pain, this time something popped and fizzed, shooting fire down his arm and taking off some health.
Dammit!
“Let me try again!” He yelled, but the words were ripped from his lips. The wind tore tears from his eyes as he tried reaching for Eldermother.
She shook her head no, pointing to the Litlin, then down below. Her words thundered in his ears as she magically enhanced her voice. “You try to land in the water! I will get this to the Nagos!”
She put out one hand, and hot air hit him, throwing him off the shard and toward the ocean.
Below him, the sea rushed at a relentless pace. Panic threatened to overwhelm his thoughts, but he shoved it down. He needed to focus.
No! I will not abandon her!
He put out his free hand, trying to direct his body back to the shard.
With some effort, he figured out how to position his body so that he moved toward the shard. He wrapped an arm around the Litlin, to keep her from falling away.
But Eldermother used her magic to shoot hot steam out of her hands, propelling the shard toward its destination, moving further away from him.
Below them, the ground continued to rush, closer and closer with every heartbeat. He could see the individual Nagos soldiers now. There was no time to make it to the ocean anymore. They were all going to die. His choice was now sealed, it was either teleport or die trying.
She was close, nearly perfectly over the arena now. Scarhoof struggled to catch up to her, but he was at least a dozen meters behind as she propelled herself through the sky.
He picked out the rest of his raid standing on the boat, all seven remaining members, including Rigimex’s resurrected form. Hillbender had done it, including saving her.
Wait, seven? Shouldn’t there be eight?
Something ahead of him blinked as Spirit shifted the air in front of him.
Helu Hillbender was there, on the Air Shard with Eldermother. The fine lines of a Yantra fading on Eldermother’s body.
She glanced up at him a bewildered look on her face which soon melted as he took her in his arms.
The two embraced, Helu pulling her face close to kiss her. They held each other for a long second before she pushed him away and pointed at Scarhoof.
Helu turned.
Take her, Helu Hillbender. Take her so I can fulfill my duty.
Scarhoof transformed himself into a bullet, aiming for the shard. He was going to make it.
Helu waved his hands back and forth, telling him to stop.
Then Scarhoof noticed Helu’s Spirit bar and realized what the old bull had done. Porting all the raid members to the boat had used up all of his remaining Spirit. Rather than watching his beloved wife plummet to her death, he had come here to die with her. Perpetually apart for decades, he was making sure to spend the rest of his life with her.
The premonition from Hillbender earlier that day echoed in Scarhoof’s mind. Just remembering the most important bind I made long ago. One I have never unbound.
After all those years, he wanted to spend his last few seconds with her.
More people dying. But Scarhoof was going to do whatever he could to help. He shot forward, aiming for the shard again.
He could make out details on the axes carried by Grath’gar. The entirety of the Nagos army looked to the heavens and their eyes bulged as they realized what was about to happen.
Helu yelled at him while pointing downward, his voice enhanced by magic. “Recall now!” He then cast a spell and Scarhoof’s world went immediately silent.
The wind didn’t pummel his ears any longer, and the biting cold of the sky was gone, replaced by a comforting warmth.
Effect Status: Spirit’s Grace!
You have been protected. All damage is negated by Her Grace. Choose your actions carefully. Duration: Six seconds.
