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Greenstone

Page 30

by C E Johnson


  Xena growled as she appeared at the top of the platform. She had dodged past the enemy. Her ears were raised, and her muscles were tensed at attention. You must attack quickly before more troops arrive.

  A moment, Emily managed, raising a hand to stop Xena. She saw black circles ringing Samil’s eyes and she wondered how much energy he was expending overseeing this massive operation. I have to try one more time. “You can still end this!” Her voice was shaking as called to Samil. “You can stop this battle and walk away.” The confusing feelings inside her mind were nauseating—concern battled hate.

  While she waited a last time for Samil’s final decision, her attention was drawn to Droth, who stood ramrod straight near the ramp with his golden eagle on his shoulder. How much power can he wield? Emily wondered to herself. He must have recently arrived on Acacia and his power must be incredible. Abruptly, as if he had made his own crucial decision, he inclined his head toward Emily and moved toward the ramp that led away from the battlefield. In the confusion, Samil didn’t notice his general was departing. Droth is leaving, Emily was incredulous. Let him pass, Xena.

  I will let him pass, Xena acknowledged Emily’s words, but you must attack Samil, Xena spoke more forcefully, for your father, mother, brother, and your friends.

  Emily whispered to her friends. “Nock.” They pulled out their bows and prepared their arrows and bolts. “Draw,” she ordered.

  “Do we fire?” Luke called.

  She saw a flicker of doubt forming in Samil’s eyes, but he spat at her, “I hope to be breathing your death-mist into my lungs in a few moments.” Emily saw him mouth the beginnings of an offensive spell.

  Wearily, Emily whispered, “Fire.” Her friends’ quarrel and arrow shafts flew across the short distance separating them, slamming into Samil and his magicians in the midst of their spells. Samil reeled backwards, gritting his teeth in obvious pain and his wounded men moaned and shrieked as missiles continued to fly. Samil’s face was a mask of agony and anger. He went on the offensive. Emily focused on her magical shields and her dragon-scale shield, but she still gasped with the sudden energy drain as fireballs and ice angled toward her squad from Samil and his magicians.

  Use your energy in attacks before it is used up in your shields, Xena roared as she dove into an attack of her own, jaws snapping, teeth rending.

  Emily calmed her mind, summoned her magus, and let it flow to perform her own spells while her friends continued to fire their weapons. Clusters of undead continued to move to the top of the platform, forming an extra-protective wall of flesh around Samil and his magicians in their dark black cloaks and tall hoods. The magicians all had potion vials at their waists.

  Emily’s head felt swollen and throbbing, and her heart began pounding in her ears louder than the warhorns resounding on the battlefield around her. A cold sweat was forming on her brow.

  Are you okay, my link? Ammolite was suddenly in her mind.

  I’m fighting Samil, Emily whispered, allowing Ammolite to view the scene through her eyes. My strength is ebbing.

  His aura is weakening, Ammolite encouraged her. Never surrender! I’ll keep Skyler occupied so he can’t come to his aid.

  Emily’s friends continued to fire their bows and bolts, and the close-range fire of their powerful weapons guided by the strength of their heightening began to weigh on each of Samil’s magicians, who were also putting more of their magus into their shields rather than into their offensive spells. Xena was a black weapon, a whirling devil dog, and her attacks were taking their own toll on the enemy. Throwing herself at their necks with incredibly fast, heightened jaw biting, she was racing between the magicians and half-deads. Running out of bolts, Luke threw down his crossbow and drew Draculafire in a smooth motion, launching himself into action. Undead erupted in smoky clouds and weaker magicians slowly fell unconscious or evaporated into black smoke as Luke, Xena, and the arrows finished them off.

  Emily found herself breathless and panting. The strain of protecting the whole group was weighing heavily on her. Her hand fumbled to her waist, and she frantically opened an elven healing potion. Downing the liquid, she restored a small fraction of her strength, but it wasn’t enough. Her breath was becoming more rapid and blood was beginning to trickle down her body from multiple lacerations. Glancing toward the base of the platform, she saw even more of Samil’s reinforcements arriving.

  “You’re weakening!” Samil screamed with an insane fire lighting his eyes and a confident smile playing at the corners of his lips. “A legion of my Black-guard is coming to my rescue.” Samil gestured toward a group of warriors dressed in black armor and black leather rushing past Cameron and his few remaining horse-clan warriors.

  Larger cuts began to appear on Emily’s arms and legs and her blood began to flow more freely. We’re losing, she thought desperately.

  We haven’t lost yet, Xena’s voice filled her mind with determination. Attack him!

  I can’t attack him. I must focus on my shield, Emily moaned while glancing at her friends. I brought them to this world and I can’t watch them get hurt. She was soaked with sweat, nearly blind with exhaustion. If they’re to perish, at least we will all leave this world together. She fell to her knees on the solid ironwood of the platform, knowing her energy would only endure another minute. Lances of pain shot through her body while blood rushed over her in a torrent.

  Use Lightleecher, Ammolite bellowed over the despair threatening to overflow Emily’s mind.

  Weakly, Emily drew out her sword and used it to stand. She began to spin it above her head and she felt a trickle of energy flow into her tired body.

  Samil feels the drain, Xena whispered. Use the energy to clear your mind.

  Emily began to amass all the energy she could muster. She drew strength from her incorporation of Suci, magus from her bondsmates, power from her arch-mage process, and knowledge from her assimilation of a portion of her mother and prior elf generations.

  However, just as quickly as the energy grew, it was abruptly taken away. New pain lanced through her mind. Luke was injured. He staggered and fell to the ground, screaming in agony as an arrow penetrated her shield and planted itself in his leg, shearing through armor, skin and bone. Panic roared through Emily’s mind. If I drop unconscious, all my friends will die. A lump formed in her throat so large that she could barely breathe. How much longer can I protect them?

  Your friends will die the moment your shield drops, Xena warned. Use that as motivation. Protect the pack.

  I’m so proud of them, Emily whispered to Xena. Her friends, even Elizabeth, were now fighting with swords. And I’m so proud of you, she whispered to Xena. Xena’s black coat was matted and streaked with blood. I love you, she conveyed to Ammolite while wiping her nose with the back of her hand. Her hand came away drenched with blood.

  The Black-guard contingent arrived and swarmed onto the top of the platform, surrounding Samil, swords drawn and ready. “Hold,” Samil roared. He held up his hand to delay their attack, his victory assured. “I think even you can finally see the outcome of this battle,” he snorted dismissively at Emily. “But to show my great compassion, I promise that if you and your friends give me your dragon-oath, I will spare you.”

  Emily sank to her knees and her friends wearily walked and limped over to kneel around her. Xena was also at her side. “Give him your oaths … spare yourselves,” Emily panted.

  A silence hung in the air until Luke spoke up, “We will all die one day, Em,” Luke wiped his blood encrusted hair from his eyes, “but the only way to live is to challenge death head-on. I’m up for one final attack together. I’m ready to let my death-light shine with yours.” His proud chin was raised and there wasn’t an ounce of regret in his expression.

  He’s crazy, Emily thought in exasperation, grimacing as she sucked in a painful breath of air.

  He’s noble, Xena retorted, a fighter.

  “Let’s go out in a fiery blaze.” Tears were streaming down Anna’s face.


  “Let’s blind him in death-light,” Elizabeth said in a low voice. She wiped the back of her hand across her pale brow, smearing a long trail of blood across her delicate features.

  “I always wanted to burn out in a blaze of glory rather than fading away.” Isabelle’s eyes were burning brightly as she spoke defiantly.

  The pack that fights together, survives together, Xena added defiantly.

  Emily, on the other hand, saw no way out of this conflict. With barely enough energy left to even draw a breath, her friends had to help her up from her knees. “We’re done here,” she said defiantly to Samil. “None of us will give you a dragon-oath.”

  The black arch-mage looked incredulous. He stared at her small group with wide, dark eyes. “As you wish.” But before he could signal a final attack, the air became thick with a hissing sound. White arrows appeared out of nowhere, striking his Black-guard, and his soldiers began to fall to the ground in clouds of death-smoke.

  “Who’s attacking us?” Samil’s son questioned in anger while drawing a two-handed greatsword and looking to the sky that was filled with smoke and mist. Well-aimed and deadly arrows were killing most of the forces around him. After the smoke cleared, a single magician and five of the largest Mavet raa were all that remained, aside from a wounded Samil and his son. The Mavet raa began to moan and shriek, becoming louder and louder in their desperation with their motions becoming more random as Samil’s power over them was decreasing with the evaporation of his strength. Amidst the chaos, the last magician took off her black hood and revealed herself.

  “Claire.” Emily couldn’t believe it. Claire’s face was wet with tears. Emily turned away from Claire to watch a flying contingent of Alitis archers materialize from the fog, led by a grizzled old warrior with a falcon on his shoulder. “Keaton!” Emily gasped. Tears of joy fell from her hopeful eyes, clouding her vision of the winged warrior. There was also a growing haze in her mind that was becoming thicker than the mist around her. “You came to rescue me.” She thought of Ladon’s prophecy, suggesting one of her Acacean friends would save her in her moment of need.

  “Camouflage spells are very useful in battle,” Keaton boomed.

  “I didn’t think you would come.” Emily ran her tongue over her dry lips.

  “Our prior friendship led me down the correct path,” Keaton spoke with a strong voice. “I just didn’t realize that Claire would be at the side of Samil.”

  Claire bowed her head, choking out her words through sobs. “Samil bonded me with Pearl … I thought I loved him, but his dark bonds with the world of Ater are just too strong.” She glanced at Emily with downcast eyes. “I’ve failed you and I failed your brother, Hadrian.”

  “Why haven’t you turned on Samil?” Emily could barely force out the words. Her peripheral vision was beginning to dull, and her head was swimming in confusion thicker than oil.

  “I can’t,” Claire sobbed even louder. “He’s taken away my little one.”

  “Pearl?” Emily was just beginning to comprehend Claire’s pain.

  Samil rasped through gritted teeth, “You have no clue, Emily Dalton.”

  Claire shook her head to tell Emily ‘no,’ with a desperate look on her face. Abruptly, realization flowed into Emily’s mind. “You were married … you had a child together?”

  Claire turned her head away in shame. “Yes, we married not long after you killed his wife, Suci. Our son is named Iscar.” Claire’s voice became firmer, “I won’t let them hurt you anymore, Emily.” Swiftly she snatched up the potion at her waist and threw her kill-vial at Samil. Samil ducked and the kill vial smashed into his son’s mail, covering his enameled plate armor. Already weakened by the arrows, Aamon reeled backwards from the blast and fell to the ground bursting into an inky black cloud without a duel even being performed. With his death, a dragon high above in the smoke let out a massive roar that became louder as the beast fell through the clouds in their direction, coming into view just before destroying a portion of the platform with its fall. The massive dragon landed in a colossal heap of black glistening scales, snorting and screaming before erupting in his own massive cloud of smoke.

  “You’ve killed my son,” Samil’s voice was as cold as ice. “How could you betray me?” Before anyone could react, he sent a stream of magical black arrows from his fingertips into Claire.

  Claire glanced at Emily, whispering, “I’m sorry for all I’ve done to hurt you. I’m at peace.” Claire erupted in a pure white death-light that lit up the shadowy smoke-filled platform. Emily and her friends sank to their knees to honor her sacrifice.

  Samil also fell to his knees, while putting his hands on the sides of his face and bowing his head to place his forehead on the wood of the platform. The moaning Mavet raa advanced toward their distracted creator whose powers had become so low that he could no longer direct them. As one, they ripped into his fragile skin, descending upon their master while his hands clawed at his throat in terror. Within seconds, only a cloud of black smoke hung in the air where Samil once knelt.

  With his death, the remaining Mavet raa on the battlefield also erupted, while the remaining half-deads fled in the direction of the Dothan Forest. Emily tried to retain consciousness to see what else would happen, but she was too weak to even wipe away the tears streaming down her face. She fainted away, listening to the painful screech of Samil’s dragon, Skyler crashing downward from the skies above.

  Epilogue

  How did the battle end? Emily asked Ammolite from her recovery bed. Her eyes were still closed, and she felt so weak and weary. She fingered the largest bandaged wound on her stomach, wondering if one day her skin would be one continuous scar.

  With the loss of Samil, the tide of the battle changed quickly. Cyril realized what had happened and tried to escape the battlefield, but Hadrian and the warriors of the Javan army descended upon him and his remaining family.

  Cyril is dead? Emily couldn’t believe it.

  Cyril, his sons, Yannis. They are all dead, Ammolite answered.

  And his Oath-bound?

  The remaining dragon-oaths were shattered and dragons and dragonriders that were released from their allegiance surrendered quickly and pledged new dragon-oaths to me.

  Emily slowly opened her lids to see her friends and Xena in her room. Xena, she thought with love.

  My link, Xena answered warmly.

  “How did I get here?” Emily whispered, her voice sounded raw and unusual in her ears.

  “Keaton flew you to the elven healers,” Luke answered while fingering a bandage on his leg. “I think I’m going to have a nice scar to match yours,” he joked.

  “Everyone’s waiting for you,” Elizabeth added eagerly.

  “Right now?” Emily tried to blink back tears of joy.

  Anna nodded. Luke left the room while her friends helped her to dress in a new set of leather armor. “So many cuts and scars,” Elizabeth whispered as she ran her fingers along Emily’s skin.

  “It’s not that bad,” Emily answered softly. They exited her healing tent and a roar went up from the soldiers who were the first to witness her exit. The roar echoed over the plains and warriors began to flood forward to honor her. Her father and mother came to greet her with Hadrian at their side. Ammolite landed in a field near to her. Emily hugged her family then staggered weakly with Luke’s help to Ammolite, rubbing her hands and head on her dragon’s scales, which were dented and discolored.

  I’ve missed you, Ammolite thought.

  And I’ve missed you, Emily thought back.

  We will fly together soon, but we must finish the ceremonies first. Ammolite gifted a portion of her magus into Emily to strengthen her, while gesturing her snout toward a dais that had been erected. Emily went to a chair that was awaiting her and collapsed into it.

  A parade-like precession began with creatures advancing one by one to retell portions of the battle. Hero dragons and champion warriors from the war recounted different aspects of the conflict. Ladon ca
me forward to detail the air-battle, recounting the bravery and leadership of Ammolite, the Queen Dragon Protector of Acacia. The story of Tiamat’s demise was also retold. Both the dragons and the Alitis recorded the post-war ceremonies in different ways. The Alitis made written notes for their history books, whereas the dragons committed the proceedings to their massive mental memory banks.

  Samil’s diamond contraption had been pulverized and Emily gave the resultant shards as trophies to those who had fought with honor. She gave the largest fragment to Ladon. I’m proud to finally have a gift to repay him for his wonderful shield, she thought. She thanked each group of warriors that came forward to be honored with diamonds and gifts, but her mind began to wander.

  Tiamat’s last moments were so confusing to me, Emily thought to her bondsmates.

  What do you mean? Ammolite asked, pain reverberating in her question.

  The way she looked at the end. It was so strange. I wonder if she knew the sacrifice that she was about to give. I wonder if she somehow realized she had to sacrifice herself to ensure an end to Samil.

  I can’t imagine that. Ammolite sounded confused. Dragons are meant to fight, not to sacrifice themselves. We’re strong creatures.

  See what I saw, Emily whispered. She placed her last visions of Tiamat into Ammolite’s mind.

  I will watch your memories later. Ammolite answered in a solemn tone. The pain is too raw right now.

  After the ceremony, Emily and Xena boarded Ammolite and the three spent hours of simple solitude in the air, opening their minds to each other and enjoying time together without secrets and without hidden motivations or desires. The other great dragons were so appreciative of the assistance of Emily’s friends that they allowed the small group to ride on four of the largest dragons for the week, and her Earth friends spent every available hour that they weren’t eating or sleeping flying over Acacia.

 

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