by Seth Ring
“Horg, Femet, keep chasing! We’ll handle this creature and catch up!” The dismounted Orc said, throwing away the bow he carried and drawing a pair of axes from the sheaths on his back.
The two warg riders whose names he had called out gave Akira one last glance before splitting up, one going to the right while the other went to the left. Seeing that they were going to try and pass her, Akira’s tails began to wave, fireballs forming above their tips. Just as she was about to release them, a low roar sounded from her side and the dismounted Orc threw himself at her, his axes slashing toward her neck. At the same time, the twang of bowstrings alerted Akira to the arrows that were flying toward her eyes.
Furious, Akira had to change her target, sending the fireballs at the two remaining warg riders, while her tails swung around to block the attacks. As the two axes glanced off of the tail that she used to block, Akira let out a slash, trying to rip through the Orc’s legs. As if he sensed the attack, the Orc jumped backward, causing her to miss.
The two fireballs that shot toward the warg riders burned with a deep crimson light. They were not large but the wargs were not about to stay still and block them. Jumping to the side, the wargs dodged. While one of the warg riders remained at a distance to continue shooting arrows, the other urged his mount to attack. Sprinting forward, the warg circled to the other side of Akira, sandwiching her with the axe wielding Orc.
Chapter Sixty-Four
Continuing to run, Thorn saw Akira ambush the warg riders with his [Spiritual Sense] and for a moment he was tempted to turn around. It was only through strict self-control that he was able to continue his run forward. By this time he had slowed considerably, his breath coming in large gasps and he struggled to continue running. His energy was almost completely drained, so Thorn deactivated his [Spiritual Sense] trying to conserve as much energy as he could. His legs felt like they had lead weights tied around them, dragging them to the ground every time he tried to step forward.
Breathing heavily, Thorn focused on moving forward, forcing himself to leave Akira to her fight. His battle pet was a powerful force by herself and even if she could not win, she was more than capable of escaping. For now, all that Thorn needed to do was make it to Thilvena. Forcing his body to move, Thorn could see a large open space ahead through the trees.
Stumbling forward, Thorn focused on making sure that he did not trip on one of the uneven roots that crossed the forest floor. He was so focused that he almost missed the attack of one of the wargs that had chased after him. Seeing his exhaustion, the Orc on the warg’s back put away his bow and drew his axe, guiding his warg toward Thorn’s back. Together they charged toward. Just before the warg leaped, something in Thorn’s mind alerted him to the incoming danger and his body began to dodge.
Thorn tucked his shoulders down as he spun around, dodging out of the way of the warg’s leap by bending over backward. As the monster passed over him, Thorn equipped his arbalest and lifted it up. Without the strength to support himself in this twisted position, Thorn fell to the ground on his side. Rolling onto his back he saw that the warg was still above him and instinctively pulled the trigger of his weapon. With a terrifying twang, the bolt left the bow and slammed into the warg’s belly at point blank range.
The force of the attack lifted the warg even further into the air, the sharp point of the bolt driving up through the warg and stabbing into the Orc on his back. With a sharp shout, the Orc tried to wrench himself free, but the bolt had gone all the way through his mount and stabbed up through his leg. Blood sprayed from the wound as the warg crumpled to the ground. Writhing on the ground, the warg rolled over, pinning the Orc rider against the ground and a thick tree root. Shouting for help, the injured warg rider struggled to get himself free but failed.
Scrambling up, Thorn realized that he had lost his grip on his arbalest, but with no time to find it he simply abandoned his weapon and stumbled toward the open field he had seen. Breaking into the clearing, Thorn realized that it was much more than a clearing. At least a few miles across, the massive open space was dominated by the largest tree that Thorn had ever seen. It towered in the air, reminding Thorn of the floating capital city of Northern Angoril.
The tree itself was at least a mile and half tall, making Thorn wonder how he had not seen it from the harbor or ship. Hidden in the unbelievably large branches, Thorn could make out soaring towers and countless buildings. Around the trunk of the tree were large platforms with buildings that looked like palaces stacked on them. Lower still was a thick castle wall that encompassed the entire tree. The large open space that surrounded the castle wall was dotted with Orcs who seemed to be simply waiting for something to happen. Every thousand feet or so Thorn could see a Shaman busily carving out the formation that they were using to try and trap the city in place.
Thorn was wondering how something so large would teleport when he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. A heavy force slammed into his back, sending him tumbling forward into the clearing. Realizing that the other warg rider had caught up, Thorn forced out the last dregs of his energy and lunged to his feet. As if it could sense the danger that he presented, the warg kept a healthy distance as Thorn stared at it. Thorn wanted to equip his tetsubo but he was not sure that he even had the energy to swing the heavy weapon.
Glancing at the massive gate on the wall that was only a thousand feet away, Thorn tried to judge if he could make it the remaining thousand feet without getting swamped. Realizing that it was incredibly unlikely, Thorn began to back toward the gate. As he did so, the warg stalked forward, looking for a moment of weakness so it could pounce.
“Open the gate!”
Thorn’s voice carried across the field, alerting the Orcs around him to his presence. Seeing him staggering toward the gate, they began to move toward him.
“Open the gate!”
Again Thorn raised his voice, trying to alert the Elves that he was coming. His only real chance at survival was dependent on the Elves choosing to save him over avoiding a siege, so Thorn was not holding out hope.
Up on the wall a golden sun shade had been raised. Underneath it, Queen Naevyre had been watching the Orc Shaman as they tried to lock Thilvena down. Seeing Thorn burst from the woods, the queen’s mouth dropped open. It was not until he shouted the second time that she finally pulled herself together.
“We need to open the gate!” Queen Naevyre said breathlessly as she watched Thorn’s figure struggling with the Orcs that surrounded him.
“My queen, we cannot!” A tall Elf dressed in shining armor that was standing next to the queen looked horrified at the suggestion.
“We need to rescue him. Of course we must open the gate.” The Queen’s words were firm and her gaze scorching as she looked at the general who spoke up. “Lord Greymane saved me on more than one occasion, and I refuse to ignore him when he is in need. Prepare to lead my royal guards outside the gate.”
“Your majesty, if we do that we will not be able to shift!” A mage spoke up from the other side of the queen. “The enemy Shaman are close to binding us in place. If they do so they’ll put us under siege.”
“We are going to rescue him.” Queen Naevyre’s voice brooked no argument.
“I don’t think that is a good idea, your majesty.” The general frowned as he looked out over the field. Out in the field the Orcs were spread loosely, with only the Shaman working on the grand sealing formation that would lock the great tree city in place.
“I did not ask you if you thought it was advisable, general.”
For a moment a tense air hung over the group on the wall as the general matched gazes with the queen. It was only when her eyes began to narrow that he sighed and bowed his head.
“I will do as you command, my queen.”
Turning on his heel, he jumped down to the gate, the queen's guard jumping after him. Though they fell almost thirty feet in full armor, each one landed as lightly as a feather. Rushing to the gate, they formed up as the general took his place
at the front of the formation. Taking a deep breath, he gave the queen one last look and raised his hand.
“Open the gate!”
A deep horn sounded, echoing around the walls of the city and off of the branches of the great tree. With a creak the massive doors on the wall began to open inch by inch. As soon as the opening was large enough for a single person to run through, the general led the Royal Guard out of the city. The Orcs outside the city were taken by complete surprise when they heard the sound of the horn, but that surprise soon turned to happiness. The scattered Shaman quickly renewed their efforts to lock the city in place.
At the same time some of the gathered Orc warriors began to rush toward the Royal Guard, intent on claiming the first kill. His eyes narrowing, the Elf general gestured and five of the Royal Guard split off from the force, charging out to intercept the incoming warriors while the general led the rest of the guards toward Thorn.
A moment later, the fastest Orcs met the Elven Royal Guard who rushed among them, blades flashing. The Orc in front lifted his warhammer, intending to crush the shiny armor of the Elf in front of him, when the Elf simply disappeared. Confused, he tried to look around only to find his vision flipping and then going dark as his head tumbled from his shoulders. Already past him, the Royal Guard’s sword flickered again, cutting down the next Orc in range with a simple slash through his enemy’s chest.
Completely confident in the Royal Guard, the Elven general did not even spare the fight a glance as he led the rest of the Royal Guard toward the spot where Thorn was surrounded. Moving as swiftly as the wind, it was less than a minute before they arrived, easily cutting down the Orcs who were swarming Thorn.
Dashing toward Thorn, the general stepped past him, blocking an attack from a spear wielding Orc, his flashing blade removing one of the Orc’s arms. A lightning fast stab cut through the Orc’s throat, dropping him right where he stood. The general’s eyes scanned the growing crowd of Orcs until he spotted the warg rider who was hanging out toward the back. The warg rider’s eyes met the general’s and the two of them measured each other carefully.
Seeing the bow that the warg rider carried, the general gave a signal with his hand and then took a step backward. Sliding his sword into his sheath, he rested his hand on his sword as he faced the warg rider. Sensing that the general was about to come after him, the warg rider drew back the arrow on his bow, lifting it up until the arrow was pointed at the general’s chest.
Thorn had no idea what they were waiting for, but when the two of them moved, Thorn nearly missed it. He saw the arrow being released, but everything else was so quick that he was not one hundred percent sure what happened. The Elven general blurred, passing by the warg rider in an instant. As the general turned around he wiped the blood from his sword that he had drawn during his charge forward. The arrow had been split into little shards as he passed by, and Thorn could see a couple of splinters on his shining armor.
The general returned to Thorn’s side, and suddenly the warg rider’s neck split open, red blood trickling down. The warg, which had not moved either, followed suit. With a thunk its head suddenly fell off and after a moment the body followed. Ignoring Thorn’s amazed look, the general nodded at him with a frown.
“Lord Greymane! The queen requests your presence in the city!”
The general had to shout to be heard over the din of the battle. Seeing Thorn nod, the Royal Guard abruptly sped up, quickly chopping through the surrounding Orcs before they fell in around him, escorting him back to the city as quickly as they could. The journey back to the city took much longer than the journey out to Thorn because of the Orcs that continued to stream toward them. Normally, the Orcs remained spread out since it made it easier to locate Thilvena once it had teleported, but now, seeing the enemy they had been trying to get to for so long, they rushed over as fast as possible.
Completely spent, it was all that Thorn could do to stumble toward the gate. Leaving all of the fighting to the Elven Royal Guard, Thorn just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. As they retreated, the Royal Guard cut down any Orcs who got too close while the archers on the walls provided them with cover.
When they finally made it back into the city and the gate was shut, Thorn simply fell over onto his stomach. His body, mind, and spirit were utterly exhausted, so much so that he was not sure that he could move. Laying on the cobblestone road, he saw a pair of pretty shoes appearing in his line of sight. It took him a moment, but eventually, Thorn was able to force himself to roll over. Looking up at Queen Rychell Naevyre, Thorn grinned.
“Hello, Lord Greymane.” Queen Naevyre said. “I hope you come bearing good news.”
“Greetings, your majesty.”
“Your majesty,” a flustered Elf in a long robe ran up, her face red with sweat. “Your majesty, the city is being locked down. We’re going to lose the ability to shift in another four hours. Our scouts report that the Orc army will be here soon. Arhtu the Cursed is leading his forces here now.”
The sound of drawn breaths echoed as the nearby Elves heard the news, their faces going white.
Gritting his teeth, the general who had led the Royal Guard to rescue Thorn glared down at him.
“You got us into this mess, traveler. I really hope you have a way to get us out.”
Letting out a breath, Thorn slowly sat up. Around him the Elves stared at him with various looks. Some were furious, some frightened, and others were simply unhappy. Taking in the different gazes, Thorn wanted to chuckle, but he knew it was not the time for that. Despite his exhaustion, Thorn’s eyes gleamed brightly as he lifted his clenched fist, a deep purple glow spilling from between his fingers. Thorn’s deep voice carried clearly as he spoke.
“Don’t worry, we have a plan.”
END
Afterword
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