A Dark Tide (Book of One)

by Jordan Baker

  He leapt toward her and he was astonished at her speed when Lexi did the same. Draxis barely managed to meet her blade with his axe, but he already knew something of her abilities from what Calexis had told him, and he was ready. Lexi might be fast, but Draxis also knew that she was inexperienced at battle, and he was able to anticipate her attacks. Frustrated, Lexi attacked him even more ferociously, overextending her balance, which Draxis used to his advantage, waiting for just the right moment to strike and pretending that he could barely keep up. Lexi hammered at him with furious speed, and she slowly increased the force of her blows, while Draxis continued to block.

  Finally, she pulled back, to deliver an even more powerful attack and Draxis caught it with the haft of his axe, then he shifted the angle of his weapon and drove the pointed tip of the axe right into her shoulder. He was nearly blinded as raw power shot into him through the jeweled blade, but it stopped almost as abruptly as she stumbled away from him. Draxis noticed that his grip on the axe haft trembled from the sheer power of her strike, but it was not enough to slow him down. With speed and power he had concealed, he swung at her, and Lexi barely dodged the giant double blades of his axe, holding her shoulder, which dripped dark blue down her chest. In a blur, Draxis attacked again and, with a flash, she leapt backward, out of his reach, but knocking into several Darga, who turned and attacked her all at once.

  Draxis stood and laughed as Lexi was quickly buried by the Darga, but the air around him suddenly became thick, and sparks of energy began to dance along the blades of his axe. With a thunderclap, the Darga were tossed aside and a blue streak shot straight up into the sky, and Draxis was very much impressed when he saw a giant blue dragon appear, though he could not help but notice that it flew a little crooked, favoring one of its wings over the other. He looked ahead as his Darga continued forward and he leapt above them, flying toward the elven lines, determined to kill as many of the forest people as he could. The elves were powerful fighters in their own right, but they were no match for the Darga, but if he was to fight three dragons as well, Draxis knew he would need every bit of strength he could gather, and he was eager with anticipation of facing Lexi again, when he would destroy her once and for all.

  *****

  At the head of the elven ranks, watching the oncoming tide of Darga, Quenta waited until the creatures had passed the point that had been marked out ahead of the battle, and he raised his sword, giving the first signal. The ground began to rumble around the Darga as trees sprouted from the ground, tripping the creatures and tangling them in roots and branches that seemingly came out of nowhere. Elves, hidden among the fallen trees coaxed hundreds of saplings they had planted to grow all at once, each of them bursting with branches filled with red leaves. Quenta moved the tip of his sword forward, pointing at the enemy, the signal to charge, and the elves leapt forward into the trees, attacking the Darga before the creatures could get their bearings.

  Elves flitted in all directions, killing Darga with efficient speed, but they were soon fighting a pitched battle as the invaders got over their initial confusion. Quenta dashed into the fray, fighting his way toward the leader of the Darga, who was cutting a swath through the elven warriors with his giant axe. With every kill, it seemed that the Darga leader grew larger and more reptilian, and when Quenta got close to him, he realized that it was the weapon he carried that was giving him such strength. He glanced down at the blade in his hand that the mysterious girl, Ehlena had given him and he was angered that such weapons had ever been created, for the thought of stealing the essence of another, was utterly distasteful to him, but it was becoming apparent that there might be no other way to counter an opponent who had no such restraint. Quenta fended off an attack from one of the lizard men and he could feel the sword bidding him to take the strength of the creature as he sliced the creature's throat, and as the giant Darga leader approached, he grit his teeth and finally let the weapon work its magic.

  Quenta was shocked as power flowed into him, similar to the way the trees would lend him strength, but this was far more immediate and intense. He felt the flesh in his arms grow thicker and more dense, like the wood of an oak, and his senses became noticeably sharper as energy coursed through him. Quenta turned and killed another Darga and felt himself become even stronger, and now he truly understood why the blades had been hidden away by the gods. The rush of power that filled him was almost unbearably intoxicating, and he felt his thoughts shift from defending his home and his people to a kind of lust at the thought of killing. While Quenta was not shy about fighting, he found it unnerving how the power of the jeweled blade affected him, but he knew he had no choice. He killed another Darga, this one far more powerful than the last and felt himself grow even stronger as he cut his way through toward the Darga leader, but as he watched the creature become more monstrous, he began to realize that until he became powerful enough to face such an enemy, he would have to wait, and trust in the others, who had pledged to defend the elven forest, and he hoped the three dragons would fare better than they had during the first attack.

  Then, from the corner of his eye, Quenta saw several Darga dragging captured elves away through the trees and he turned and pursued them, intending to rescue the captives. The lizard men moved quickly through the trees and, from the branches, Quenta noticed a number of other Darga dragging captured elves through the forest. They ran out of the trees and Quenta saw something that completely horrified him. Standing before a small pile of dead elves was a large, winged Darga, holding a jeweled blade. One of the Darga dumped an unconscious elf at its feet and the winged one handed him the sword.

  "Take its strength," the winged creature said and the Darga stuck the blade into the chest of the elf, dealing a mortal blow. The Darga grew in height as its arms and legs became thicker and more heavily muscled, and the creature turned and looked at the winged Darga with a killing look in its eye. The much larger winged Darga thrust a clawed fist forward and opened it, and the Darga grudgingly handed over the blade, then moved out of the way making way for the line of his brethren that had also managed to capture elves.

  With livid rage at what he had just witnessed, Quenta leapt from the trees and attacked the Darga, killing one after another, dispatching them with a wildness that became more intense with each stroke of the jeweled blade. The Darga turned on him, dropping their elven captives, some of whom were regaining consciousness, which only spurred Quenta to fight harder, in the hope of saving his warriors. The large, winged Darga turned and faced him, along with four remaining Darga, who snarled angrily at having been interrupted from getting their reward.

  Quenta squared off against the Darga, cutting two of them down before the larger one met his blade and counterattacked with shattering blows as powerful as his own. The two other Darga slashed at Quenta and one of them cut his shoulder as he blocked the other, and he narrowly dodged another attack from the winged Darga as he struck one of the lesser creatures in its reptilian face with the pommel of his sword. The Darga went down, the bones in its skull crushed, and Quenta deflected another attack from the large, winged creature. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other Darga moving in to attack him, but steel rang upon steel and Quenta saw that one of the elves that had been captured, had blocked the creature using a blade she had found on one of the dead lizard men.

  Quenta faced the large, winged Darga, swinging his blade in several short, powerful cuts, which the creature blocked and deflected easily, then responded with several attacks of its own. With one clawed fist, its blows were as strong as his own, and Quenta was careful of the creature's other scaled hand and the sharp claws that slashed at him. He parried another strike, then he drove inside the creature's reach, trying to knock it off balance, but he underestimated the Darga's center of balance and barely managed to duck when it swiped at his neck with its claws. Quenta instinctively blocked with his forearm and he felt the Darga's claws cut through his tattered leather sleeve and scrape against bone. He ducked out of the way
and glanced at his arm, expecting to see blood and torn flesh, but the outer part of his arm had changed, its surface resembling the horns of a forest creature.

  The winged Darga attacked him again, leaving Quenta no time to think about such things and he met the creature's crushing attacks, blocking and dodging to the side. He dropped low and thrust his blade hard into the Darga's midsection, then he threw himself back and out of the way of a swipe of its blade. Quenta rolled to his feet as the creature bellowed at him and lunged toward him, and he sidestepped the blade and smashed the point of his sword into the Darga's chest. Bone crunched and the creature tried to slash at him failingly, as its life energy flowed into the blade. Quenta shook from the intense rush of power that flooded into him through the sword, and when it finally stopped he stepped back from the Darga and yanked the blade free. He turned around and several of the elves that had been captives were up on their feet and helping the others. The elf, who had intervened with the other Darga, wiped the black blood from her blade on the creature's carcass and she lifted her mask from her face and stared at Quenta.

  "Lord Quenta," she said, with a concerned look. "Are you all right?"

  "I am fine," he said. "Let us return to the fight."

  Quenta picked up the jeweled sword the winged Darga had dropped and he tossed it to the elf.

  "Use this sword with great care," he said as she caught it by the hilt. "It can give you the strength of your enemy, but do not let its power rule you."

  Quenta nodded and strode back toward the trees, not bothering to acknowledge the changes he could feel in his body and ignoring the stares of the elves, all of them wide eyed at the bone that covered his arms and legs, and the horns that protruded from his temples. A wingless Darga ran from the trees, charging toward him, and Quenta dashed toward him and cleaved the creature in two with one powerful swipe of his sword, then he leapt up into the trees and set off in search of the Darga leader.

  *****

  Draxis stepped from the stand of trees to the open space on the other side, a wide gap before the red forest where he knew the rest of the elves were hiding, and he saw dark scorch marks upon the ground along with the remains of numerous Darga that had died tried to cross. He looked up and saw the black and white dragons circling overhead and he understood the strategy, but he would not be deterred. Draxis stepped back into the new forest, then he wrapped his arms around the trunk of a tree and began to lean back, pulling at it with all his might. It was as he thought, the tree did not yet have deep roots, and though it heaved and groaned, the earth beneath his feet began to loosen as he yanked the tree from the ground. Branches snapped and whipped about as he dragged it out into the clearing, holding its branches up before him.

  The black dragon screeched and came flying down toward him, and it released a blast of flame, but Draxis used the tree as a shield and the stream of white hot acid flame split around its branches and trunk, missing him almost completely. The tree was charred half way through, but it surprisingly did not catch fire, though Draxis knew that it would not protect him from another blast from the dragon, and he dashed the rest of the way across the gap as the white dragon descended from above, blasting him with fire that was hot but not enough to burn. Draxis made it into the trees on the far side and was immediately met with numerous arrows, but they bounced harmlessly off his thick reptilian hide, and he continued into the red forest, killing every elf that dared to cross his path.

  As they circled above the clearing, catching their breath after using the last of their flames, Borrican and Storm both saw that the massive creature had made it through the gap. Borrican recognized the axe the creature carried and he wanted to pursue, but hundreds of Darga began to emerge from the stand of trees and they began crossing the gap, and he knew that the elves that were left in the red forest would not be able to defend against such a number.

  "What do you suggest, Akandar?" Storm asked, sensing Borrican's hesitation.

  "We have to stop them," Borrican growled between labored breaths.

  "My flames are losing their heat," Storm told him.

  "As are mine," Borrican said. "I do not feel any weaker, but I cannot call my fire as easily, and we must stop the Darga from entering the forest."

  "Then we must keep them busy until we have recovered," Storm said, and he dove toward the mass of lizard men below, landing upon the ground and whipping his tail at them, sending a number of them tumbling. Borrican dodged an attack by one of the winged Darga that flew at him, then he knocked the creature out of the air with a swipe of his claws. He saw several of them flying after Storm, and a few more were closing in on him, and Borrican knew that Storm was right. The only way they could stop them now, was to engage them on the ground, so he dove toward the sea of Darga and crashed into them, crushing as many of them as he could as he skidded across the ground.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Lexi thanked the elven healers for using their gifts to heal her wounded shoulder. With their magic and the power within her, the deep puncture had closed up completely and though it was still a little tender, she was able to move properly again. The small wooden palace in the center of the red forest had become a focal point of activity, with teams of healers working constantly as elves returned from fighting to get patched up and head back out again through the trees. The elven queen, Laurana coordinated things, making things moved as efficiently as possible, balancing the need to get elves back into the fight with making sure those whose wounds were dangerous, received attention in time.

  Lexi walked out of the structure, frowning at her stupidity in her fight with Draxis, for she had expected him to be the same as she remembered him and had completely misjudged his power. She foolishly allowed him to get the better of her and her injury had not only taken her away from the battle, but she had needed help from the healers, who were already overburdened, dealing with so many wounded elves and humans, who were fighting against the Darga that had managed to enter the forest.

  "It is hard not to get discouraged," Ariana said, noticing the frown on the mysterious blue girl's face.

  Lexi turned and stared at the red haired girl with the jeweled skin and the pregnant belly, and she sniffed the air, catching her scent. It was strangely familiar in a few different ways, and she wondered who she was.

  "You smell like the black dragon, but you also smell like someone else," she said.

  "You mean Prince Borrican," Ariana said, and she smiled. "Who else do I smell like?"

  "A friend who fights the darkness," Lexi said. "His name is Aaron."

  "You know him?"

  "Yes," Lexi said. "He saved me and I tried to save him but he made me go away."

  Ariana found Lexi's way of speaking odd, as though she was very young, like a child, but with a melancholy of someone very old, and she wondered about the paths she must have walked in her life. She had heard about the dragon girl from Ehlena, who said she was an ally, but divulged little else in terms of who she was except that she apparently knew nothing of dragonkind. Ariana found it interesting that she did know Aaron, and it sounded as though she had seen him recently.

  "Aaron is my half brother," Ariana told her. "Perhaps that is why we have a similar scent. I am sorry, I do not believe we have been formally introduced. I am Ariana of Maramyr, and you are called Lexi, if I am not mistaken."

  Lexi looked at the girl, her eyes widening, for she had heard of Ariana, and she knew she was the Princess of Maramyr, and the rightful ruler of the kingdom her mother now controlled, and she would be queen if her crown had not been stolen. Lexi realized that if Aaron was her brother then it might make him some kind of prince.

  "Aaron is your brother?"

  "Yes," Ariana said. "Our mother was Princess Aria, Queen Laurana's sister. You wouldn't know it to look at him, but Aaron is part elf, just like me. You said you tried to save him?"

  "I tried," Lexi said. "I wanted to fight Calexis, but Aaron made me go away. Ehlena told me it was on purpose, and she says Aaron knows
what he is doing, but I am worried because he doesn't know Calexis and how mean she is."

  "And you know her as well?" Ariana was curious.

  "Yes, I know her, and Draxis too," Lexi said. "I am going to kill them both."

  "The way you speak of them, it sounds very personal," Ariana said.

  "It is personal," Lexi replied with a scowl. "You have family and so do I."

  Ariana looked at the girl a little more closely and she realized that Lexi was not so much a dragon in human form, but that her features were far more reptilian, and there was a dark beauty to her that was subtle and perhaps hidden by her blue skin and the way she hung her head, but she recognized the resemblance.

  "Calexis is your mother," Ariana said, and Lexi looked down at the ground.

  "You hate me now," she said, her voice almost a whisper.

  Ariana stared at Lexi and she could feel the conflicting emotions within her coming through to the surface. She stepped toward her slowly, then gently put her arms around the girl. Ariana could immediately feel the tension in Lexi and the fierce power that raged beneath the frozen stillness at her surface. It was almost unnerving, the silent intensity of her being, but Ariana held her and she felt her tension let go just a little and Lexi rested her head on her shoulder.

  "It's all right, Lexi," Ariana said. "You are your own person, and if Aaron is your friend, then I would think you must be a good person."

  "I don't know," Lexi said, her voice a raw whisper, and Ariana realized that she was crying. "I don't know if I am good. I am like a beast and I kill."

  "You are a dragon," Ariana said. "Dragons are violent creatures, but they can also be gentle, and their emotions run very deep."

  "I don't know much about dragons," Lexi said, wiping her tears and pulling away. "I am sorry."