by Levi Samuel
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” Ra’dulen stated coldly, overlooking the rocky bluff. Turning to face the troublesome warrior, he clenched his fist. “Understanding or not, I can’t let you stop me!”
Ra’dulen drew his sword with blinding speed. He charged, bringing the sharpened weapon across. A smiled breeched his lips, seeing Gareth had come prepared. There was no pleasure in an easy kill.
Metal on metal rang out. Gareth strained against the crushing blow, holding the attack at bay. It seemed their friendship truly was over. The Ravion he knew wouldn’t have done any of this, let alone tried to kill him. Releasing the block, Gareth rolled out of the way and brought his sabre around. It glanced off Ravion sword, but the empowered scout wasn’t ready for his second attack. Gareth fist connected, clapping against Ravion’s jaw.
Ra’dulen took a step back and adjusted himself. The punch caught him off guard, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. It simply meant he was going to take some joy in this. Lifting his sword, he charged again, aimed to cut the warrior in half.
Seeing the approaching blow, Gareth charged, ready to parry.
The swords rang out, dislodging one another.
A pressure erupted in Gareth’s left kidney. Glancing down, he saw a deep gouge in the side of his armor. Had it not hit the small plate as solid as it did and glanced off, it would have been his end. Turning to face Ravion, the scout held a thin dagger at the ready.
“I’m done toying with you. This ends now!” Ra’dulen pulled the energies around him together and launched a black bolt at Gareth.
Knowing he had no way of deflecting or blocking the fatal attack, Gareth fashioned his rage into a shield. The air around him hardened just as the dark energy exploded, blocking his vision. Before he could raise a defense, Ravion was upon him again.
Ra’dulen swiped with the dagger, adjusting his stance for a powerful attack. His sword materialized in his grip and plunged forward. The tip stabbed deep into the shield surrounding his former friend, but it didn’t break. Taken back, Ra’dulen tried to identify the magic. His sword should have cut straight through it. But it was unlike anything he’d seen before. Nothing he had could bypass it. That meant it couldn’t be arcane in nature.
The dagger’s slash glanced off his invisible barrier, but the thrust had a more damaging approach. Gareth saw the tip headed straight for him. It slowed, narrowly stopping an inch from his chest. Out of options, drew his sheathed cutlass and flipped the blade around to knock the sword away from him. His shield was ruined either way. Charging forward, he sent his psychic grip ahead.
An unseen force slammed into Ra’dulen’s chest knocking him from his feet. He brought his sword up, deflecting Gareth’s downward attack. Rolling to the side, he hooked the bald warrior’s leg and pulled it out from under him.
Gareth crashed to the ground, doing his best to keep ahold of his sabre.
Kicking hard, Ra’dulen threw his weight and flipped to his feet. Sword in hand, he readied a final blow. An unexpected power erupted near him, stealing his focus. Glancing toward the forest, an orange line formed in the air.
It spread wide, nearly consuming the entire forest edge. Over a hundred dalari stood in battle formation on the other side. At their head, Kashien, Trendal and several other officers stood side by side, dressed for war. The orange glow faded behind the army, leaving them standing at the forest’s edge. The large unit moved in perfect unison, like a well-oiled machine. They rotated as one, horseshoeing out around the embattled warriors. At once, the unit snapped into position, their weapons at ease and awaiting command.
“I see you’ve brought reinforcements!” Ra’dulen mocked his prone opponent. Seizing the moment, he thrust downward, aimed to kill.
Gareth rolled out of the way, jumping just in time to avoid another swipe. He kicked out, feeling Ravion’s knee buckle beneath the blow. Using the opportunity to his advantage, he swung as hard as he could, knocking Ravion’s sword out of hand.
The empowered scout stumbled back a few steps, surprised by the loss of his weapon. Wincing his pain away, he stood upright, ignoring his shattered knee. Ra’dulen thrusted his hands toward one another. A deep blue cloud formed between them. Lightning sparked within the translucent surface, growing larger by the moment. Reaching peak potential, the electrically charged ball launched forward, slamming into Gareth’s chest. It exploded around him, sending massive bolts of electricity in all directions.
Several of the dalari were launched back, breaking their formation in several places. A few went to work picking themselves up, while others laid where they’d fallen. The scent of cooked meat and charred flesh filled the air.
Gareth felt his body spasm, but something had protected him. Sitting up, he stared his hatred at Ravion. He was little better than the monsters they’d spent so many years hunting. Spitting a mouthful of blood into the churned dirt, he pulled himself up and grabbed his sword from the dust covered rocks. “In all of this you’ve made one massive error.”
“Oh! And what’s that?” Ra’dulen summoned another ball of energy.
The storm cloud was moving closer, nearly overhead. Bolts jumped between Ra’dulen’s spell and the approaching cloud, dancing back and forth. Each time the bright energy returned darker than before. A darkness grew over the area, blocking out the sun’s rays. Bolts of blackened energy danced all around, seen only by their blue outer edges.
Gareth knew he couldn’t survive another direct blast. It didn’t matter. It was time to end this. “You made the mistake of bringing my family into this!” Throwing his weight, Gareth launched from the dirt, charging the enemy to everything he stood for. Uncaring if the magic crashed into him, he lowered his head and aimed for Ravion’s midsection. He had one purpose and that was to end his once friend. If it claimed his life in the process, so be it.
The energy made his hair stand on end. He was surrounded, entangled in the electrifying magic. Slamming his shoulder into the taller man’s ribs, an explosion erupted around them, launching him back. He hit the ground, feeling the jagged rocks tear into the leather plates of his armor. A thick cloud of dust made it difficult to breathe. At least that’s what he told himself. In truth, his chest was heavy after such a powerful hit. Laying his throbbing head on the packed earth, he closed his eyes. He needed to rest, if only for a moment.
Ra’dulen picked himself up from the dirt. Glancing over, he saw Gareth lying several feet away, stirring from the explosion. Many of the closest trees had toppled, and the majority of the assembled dalari were scattered among the rubble. It was odd they hadn’t involved themselves in the fight. Perhaps they wanted to see how this encounter was going to play out. Though he was surprised they hadn’t taken greater precautions to protect themselves. None of it mattered either way. He was the strongest dalari in existence. And soon he would rival the gods themselves. Any part the dalari had in his mission had long played out. For all he cared, they could return to wherever it was they were hiding for all the years he needed them. Summoning another bolt of energy, he took aim at Gareth. Perhaps he could finish them all in one final assault.
A dark storm cloud lingered overhead. It had been there since he set out from Drundale that morning. It left a gloom over the area, but somehow, he was able to feel hope.
Demetrix trekked along the trail leading up the cliff face. Nearly fifty dalari followed in his wake, most of them disfigured and drained of will. They walked because they had to, though it was clearly taking its toll. Looking back to ensure they were keeping up, a massive explosion echoed in the distance.
Eyes searching, Demetrix carefully made his way up the treacherous path to the top of the rocky bluff. Confusion and panic gripped him. Gareth was laying in the dirt. His chest moved rapidly, but he wasn’t getting up. Behind him, several dalari laid dead or wounded among the shredded tree line. It seemed a few remained unscathed, but those few were busy trying to help the others. Standing in opposition, Ravion’s hand glowed a deep blue. He reared back,
as if he was going to launch the deadly spell into the group.
Calming himself, Demetrix searched for any sign of outside attackers. What other reason could there be for what he was seeing? Unable to find any, his vision returned to Ravion. Whatever was happening was clearly beyond his understanding.
Ra’dulen smiled at the defeated forces. His spell was ready. All he had to do was release it. A strange sensation reached him. He could taste the power he’d been searching for. It was closer than ever. It seemed the power he’d be tracking had found its way to him.
Glancing to the cliff’s edge, he saw Demetrix standing there. An expression of pain and confusion settled on his face. The younger dalari was dressed in black studded leather, seemingly of dreualfar design. He looked as if he’d aged a few years, though he was still remarkably young in appearance, by human standard anyway.
Though his age, or appearance therein, was of little concern. If Demetrix had the power he sought, he’d take it by any means necessary. Turning to face his brother, he felt the spell in his hand dissipate into nothing. Confused, he turned, directing his focus to the dalari army.
Kashien stood at the head of his men, his sword was extended, pointed at Ravion. Remnants of the dark spell retreated into the blade, offering a warning against continued aggression. A magical wall fluctuated behind him, shielding the wounded dalari from further damage.
Ra’dulen smiled at the general’s feeble attempt to stop him. It was going to take more than stealing his spell to end his plans, even if he had a magical blade. Wait! His blade. Ra’dulen stared intently, unsure what he was seeing. It can’t be!
If he couldn’t use the sword, he’d have to find alternative means. Ra’dulen summoned the energy around him. It formed into a long and narrow bolt of a purple and black smoke. Growing corporeal, a long spear took form from the raw energies. What should have been a wooden shaft, was instead a glass-like tube, black as night. Bolts of lightning danced inside the hardened exterior like a sprite trying to find its way out of a vial. Ra’dulen marched toward Gareth. This fight was over. He had but to drive the tip into the dreuslayer’s heart.
Gareth’s strength had fled him. His mind was blank, unable to process what had happened. He was drained, physically, emotionally. The explosion took every ounce of will to keep from blowing him to pieces. Seeing Ravion step into view, memories flashed through in his mind. You lost your family. You failed! The echoing taunts made his fists clench in rage. He wasn’t going to let it end this way.
“Never again!” Gareth’s hand shot forth, locked firmly around the spearhead aimed at his chest. He wasn’t finished. Not yet.
Demetrix stared in horror. What the hell happened while I was gone? He had to do something. Gareth was going to die if he didn’t. But what could he do? He couldn’t kill one to save the other. And he couldn’t refuse to act. Torn, he charged toward the pair. As if his body made its own decision, he felt the ground shake vigorously.
Slowing to a stop, he noticed the trees were shrinking. No, that wasn’t it. It was the opposite. The ground was rising. The earth around Ravion, Gareth, and himself had torn itself away from the forest floor and was hovering in the air, like their own little island away from the rest of the world. Searching for anything that made sense, he noticed his hand, outstretched and locked around the glowing blue stone. He could feel the power within, urging his will into existence.
Searching all around, he was aware of all things. The dalari on the ground, those that were alive and in pain. He took that pain. Those that were dead, he gave life. Even Ravion, he could feel the desires coursing through him, but he couldn’t connect to him. There was something else blocking him, something dark and hungry. And he couldn’t feel Gareth. Pain erupted inside, forcing him to return to himself. His leg hurt, it felt like it was broken once again. Stealing a glance, something strange was happening. Okay, not that strange, but certainly noteworthy. He couldn’t explain how, or even why, but he could see the magics surrounding him. The barrier containing his wounded leg was weakening, diverted to keep them in the air. The energies inside him were rapidly depleting, and he was had no way to replenish. Not without stealing that which he’d already given. That was unacceptable. There had to be another way.
Ra’dulen glanced up from his target, seeing Demetrix several feet away. But nothing else was in sight. They were on an island, away from all. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. Suddenly, thick vines sprouted from the dirt, entangling around his legs and body. He tried to plunge the spear into Gareth’s chest. Tried to finish the job, but the prone warriors hold was too strong. The vines were robbing him of strength.
Gareth saw his moment. Rolling hard, he pushed the spearhead to the side, watching it stab into the dirt where he’d been a moment before. Refusing to give Ravion another chance, he rolled into the spear, knocking it from his grip. The weapon dissolved into the magics it was born from and disappeared. Gareth slammed his weight into Ravion’s legs. He felt the empowered scout topple beneath him. Seizing the opportunity, he threw himself atop of his aggressor. The vines swarmed around him, locking him in place. He couldn’t move. He was stuck, staring his hatred into the man beneath him.
Liquid trickled from his nose. Pressing his empty fingers to the source, Demetrix saw the bright red blood flowing from him. He strained against the power he was inadvertently releasing. Just a little longer and they’d all be safe.
A gruesome snap echoed in his ears and he crashed to the hovering island of dirt and stone. Refusing to release his hold, he pushed on, feeling his insides quake from the exertion. He’d saved Gareth. Now he had to save Ravion. He watched the vines engulf them both. Neither could move. Which meant neither could kill the other. Feeling a moment of victory, his vision faded. Sapped of strength, his will evaded him and he blacked out.
Weightlessness took its hold. The vines withdrew, retreating into the ground. Gareth crashed into the earth, bits of rock and soil breaking apart beneath him. Still atop Ravion, he stared into the broken man. He radiated defeat. There was just one thing to finish this. Raising his fist, he hardened the air, turning it into a weapon. He didn’t have to look to know his psiblade was present. Staring into the glowing eyes of his once friend, he saw those near absent, blue pupils faintly behind the fading glow. They were nearly hidden from sight, but still there. He recognized those eyes. Not the ones of the man he’d traveled with the past month, but those of the man he’d known for years.
Letting his mind travel into them, he saw a child sitting in a world of shadow. Two bodies lay before him, a man and a woman. Gareth didn’t have to ask to know these were Ravion’s parents. Something beyond his understanding had happened. A shadow flew past him, and another. He wasn’t alone in here.
Returning himself to the now, Gareth screamed, releasing his anger in Ravion’s face. Enraged, he brought his fist down. The psionic weapon stabbed deep into the earth beside Ravion’s head. Another inch and it would have split his skull wide open. Staring into the defeated scout’s eyes, Gareth slammed his forehead down, bashing him in the face. Seeing all resistance fade away, he climbed off the unconscious warrior. His body shook from anger. It took everything not to kill him. Gritting his teeth, Gareth picked himself up and marched toward the forest.
Several of the dalari soldiers moved into his path, spears and swords ready to stop him.
“Move!” Gareth demanded, waving his hand. They flew off the path, launched by an unseen force.
Landing roughly on the rocky terrain, they picked themselves up and started after the bald warrior.
“Don’t pursue. We have more pressing matters here!” Kashien ordered, approaching the unconscious Ravion.
Chapter IX
A Question of Royalty
An eerie silence filled the room. Even the usual sound of crickets chirping outside was absent. Feeling the smooth blankets covering his skin, Demetrix slowly opened his eyes, unsure where he was or how he’d gotten there.
A faint blue glow pulsed weakly
against the ceiling, bringing a comfort unlike any other. The scent of pine reached his nostrils, alerting him to his own lack of scent. Patting himself, he realized the stolen armor he’d taken from the dreualfar captain was missing, replaced by thin garments made of silk. His skin was clean and what little hair that remained from his imprisonment had been trimmed and evened.
Taking a deep breath, Demetrix sat up realizing how easily his attire slid across the matching blankets covering the down bed he was upon. Looking around the dimly lit, well-furnished chamber, he froze seeing Kashien at the foot of the bed.
“My apologies, Lord Kashien, I didn’t realize you where there!” Hoping to offer the proper respects to the dalari general, Demetrix pulled himself up, feeling every muscle in his body tense in protest.
“Stand down, my friend. You’ve been through quite enough since we last spoke. We also took the privilege of mending your leg. The damage was quite severe, but we were able to pick up trace elements of the magics used to keep it together. After that it was as simple as reapplying the spell. I was hoping you might be able to answer some questions for me.”
Demetrix fell back against the bed, letting the tension in his body return to its less painful state. “I’m in your debt, My Lord. I’ll answer however I can.”
“Nonsense. It’s I that owes you my gratitude. Without you, my men wouldn’t have returned and we wouldn’t have the slightest idea as to what was happening until it was upon us. Though I’m pleased for your cooperation. I’ll try to be brief so you can get your rest.”
