Instantly, two Draconians slid down from their horses, tore through the undergrowth, grabbed his arms and pulled him out of the weeds.
“Please, please!” Elwin begged, being tossed to the feet of their commander. “I mean you no harm. I was just passing by.”
“Why were you hiding?” the commander asked, lifting him into the air by his tunic. The Draconian’s dark-yellow eyes were terrifying, his fangs dripping saliva.
“I was passing through when I heard you coming, so I hid. Whatever your reasons for killing that man I'm sure were good ones. I won't say anything. Your business is none of mine. Please, you must believe me.”
“Oh, I do little human,” he smirked. “And you are right—our business here is none of your concern.” Long claws extended from the Draconian's hand and he stabbed Elwin in the stomach, then tossed him to the ground.
“Nooo!” Darshun roared, leaping out of the bushes and charging them.
Seth followed.
The commander drew his sword to oppose him.
It did him no good, as Darshun swung his weapon so hard and so fiercely that he shattered the opponent's weapon to shards and particles. He then lopped off his head, and furiously cut down two others while Seth quickly took out the rest. Before the enemy knew what’d happened they were laid to waste.
“...Elwin?” Darshun knelt beside him.
Blood and foam gushed from his mouth. For the claws of the Draconian were not only sharp, but also venomous. “Dar—shun. Please, give this to—my brother.” In his hand, Elwin held the sack containing the healing leaf.
Darshun grabbed it. “No, you take it!” He put it up to his mouth. “Elwin, eat. Besides, you have a lady to court, remember? We can go and pick another leaf. You must not die. We’ll get another. We’ll get another! Please?”
“There’s—no time...” His eyes became still, and his breathing stopped.
“He’s gone,” Seth whispered. “Sorry, lad.” He reached to Elwin and closed his eyelids.
Darshun buried his face in Elwin’s chest and wept, wondering why he hadn’t acted sooner, but everything seemed to happen so fast.
“You must take the crystal and leave here at once!” Borius pleaded.
Seth picked up the sack which the Draconians dropped and looked inside of it. “I—do not believe it. The Water Crystal of Arabeth?”
“You know of it, I assume.”
“Of course. One of the four ancient Wizard Crystals of the Elements. Tell me, who are you?”
“My name is Borius Kendall. I’m a monk, and servant to the true King of Zithel, King Adeleric. Beyond those trees, lies the city and not long ago was it taken over by a sorcerer and his army of Cullach. Now we are enslaved, living only to do the sorcerer’s bidding.”
“How did you come to possess the Water Crystal?”
“The Cullach were transporting it through here to go to another location. I had a friend on the inside steal it. We planned an escape but were sold out by a traitor. Please take it. The dark forces are searching for all four of them, and if they succeed, everything sacred and good on earth shall perish. Please, you must get rid of it.”
“Everything perish?”
“By the spell of a Demon, aye. We’re at war, good stranger, the Second Great—” An explosion of fire fell over Borius.
Seth was thrown back by the force of it, and within a moment it reduced Borius to a smoldering skeleton.
They looked to their left and saw the sorcerer, holding up a smoking staff. A large number of Draconians on horseback were beside him. “Seize them,” the sorcerer ordered.
Seth transformed, releasing a green flash of light. He stretched out his hand and split the ground apart before the charging Draconians, causing them to scatter.
Then Darshun prepared to transform also.
“Darshun, no! There’s too many. We must flee.”
“What about Elwin’s body?”
“There’s no time.”
They ran to their horses, saddled up and rode across the field with great speed.
The Draconians pursued.
“We must split up to scatter their numbers.”
“Uncle, we can't.”
“There’s at least twenty behind us. They saw me display power and retrieve the sack, so most of them I gather…will leave you alone. Meet me at Azriel River’s fork, the one that splits to Loreladia.”
Not liking the idea of abandoning his uncle, he nevertheless submitted. “All right.”
“Don’t worry about me—the animals on this mountain will lend aid.” Seth glanced into the eyes of Darshun’s horse. Brother stallion, bring him to safety by the quickest and most efficient path. Avoid all danger, and run your fastest. “Darshun, stay alive!”
They separated, riding off into different directions—and Seth had spoken truly, more than half of the Draconians followed after him.
~~***~~
Arrows flew past Darshun at every moment. He rode side-to-side around trees, trying to shake their aim, but the Draconians were still gaining ground. Soon, they were right to his sides, two on his left and two on his right. He took a dagger from his girdle, threw it at one to his left, striking it between the eyes.
The other Draconian, now enraged, shot an arrow at his head.
He ducked while the arrow passed over and killed one to his right. The last two slowed their pace and rode behind him, attempting to shoot his back.
Up ahead, he saw a large branch that hung low. He grabbed it, slid off his stallion, swung over the branch and using both of his legs he kicked one of the Draconians on its back. It flew from its horse, and smashed into a tree, shattering its cranium. Darshun dropped to the ground and unsheathed his sword. “Come on,” he taunted. “No more running.”
The last Draconian slid from its horse, drew his weapon and charged.
They met with a hard clash of steel and began exchanging blows. With every offense Darshun led, the Draconian countered. He was good, far better than Darshun expected. In fact, seeing a lizard-like creature, with such massive bodily structures move so fast was impressive, to say the least.
Backing Darshun up with a series of heavy blows, he brought down his sword one final time against Darshun’s, knocked the blade from his hands, and kicked him under the chin.
Darshun's mouth slammed shut, his head jolted up, and he fell upon his back, a bit dazed, with a slight headache.
The creature, grinning and snarling, withdrew his weapon and extended his long venomous claws. “Give me the crystal you’ve stolen and I’ll sheer your intestines quickly.”
Darshun smirked, reached for his weapon and stood.
The lizard creature stilled and seemed to be wondering about the sudden confidence his opponent showed. Unexpectedly, a flash of red light shone, blinding the Draconian for a moment. When his sight returned, he saw his opponent engulfed in red flames and holding a burning red sword. His hair glowed, his eyes were shining; even his skin glistened like a finely polished fire-opal gem—glorious. His mouth dropped open. “...A Nasharin? It’s not possible. Your kind—are extinct!”
Grinning, Darshun taunted, “Are we?”
The Draconian swung, aiming for Darshun’s throat. Swiftly dodging, Darshun drove his sword through the enemy's chest, tearing it out the left side of his upper torso, the fiery blade disintegrating the heart.
Then, just as Darshun thought he would be in the clear, there came another one rushing through the trees on horseback, enraged, holding a battle-axe high. “So, he wants to play too,” Darshun seethed his gaze fierce. He extended a hand glowing like the coals of a long heated fire and shot a thick stream of flame at the pursuing enemy.
It covered him completely while the horse he rode tossed his roasting carcass to the ground.
“It’s dangerous to tempt fire.” Darshun smiled as the thing burned up at his feet. Yes, while in the power of Transformation conceit filled his mind. Why should it not? Fighting, power and strength are enormous traits of a Nasharin Being.
He descended to his normal state, and thanks to Uncle Seth's words his stallion came trotting back, determined to bring him to safety. He jumped on. “Let’s get out of here, my friend.”
He rode to the mountain’s slope and began the climb down when the horse suddenly stopped and motioned its head north. “What? What is it, boy?” Darshun focused his eyes past the trees in the distance and saw Cullach beside each one, armed and waiting. There were hundreds. “Now what? I can’t fight them all.” Soon, there came a terrible hiss from behind him. Turning around, he saw yet another Draconian on horseback, pursuing him. “Blast! How many of these things are there?”
Not wishing to fight and stir up a lot of noise, he rode off, moving horizontally across the mountain, remembering to keep away from the ambush below. But the hideous lizard unexpectedly shot Darshun’s horse with an arrow. Regardless of the pain, the stallion continued to ride with all his might, all his spirit and at a speed, Darshun never felt before, passing trees like the wind. Then he gradually slowed his pace, until finally collapsing to the ground.
Darshun saw the arrow lodged into its side, just past the ribs. “Ah, no!” he lamented and pulled it out. A green liquid dripped from its tip. “Poison.” He stared at the horse, its body beginning to tremble. He knelt down beside it, placing a hand upon its forehead, gently stroking its smooth dark mane, giving as much comfort as he could, so the stallion wouldn't feel alone in its hour of death. “My friend, you saved my life, bringing me out of harm’s way—away from those Cullach. I thank you.” He patted his head, and then the stallion died. “Rest in peace.” A tear rolled down Darshun’s cheek. He hated seeing the death of animals, especially one so loyal. But nothing could be done.
A strong breeze blew against him accompanied by a howling wind. He followed the sounds, stepping through the brush and came to the edge of the mountain. Gazing downward, he stood in awe. A glorious sight it was indeed, the landscapes below with its luscious green woodlands and meadows, the crystal blue lakes and rivers—but there was no time for sight-seeing, he needed to get out of here.
He returned to where the horse lay and quietly sat, meditating and listening to his senses. He could hear the Cullach searching the mountain and scented their foulness. “I can’t proceed that way. There’s too many Cullach. And if I go the way I came, I’m bound to run into more of those hideous Draconians. Wait, this mountain, that’s it! I could climb down the rocks!”
He then heard a Draconian—the one that most likely shot his stallion—approaching fast, the lizard’s vile stench could not be missed. To tempt the creature, he stood in front of the brush before the edge of the mountain, hoping to lead it in. Perhaps it was ignorant of the other side?
Storming past the trees it laid eyes on him, letting out an unpleasant hiss, held high its battle-axe and charged.
Darshun ran into the undergrowth, crouching down where it seemed the thickest and kept his place.
Taking the bait, the Draconian yanked back on the breast-girth, commanding its poor horse to jump over the wall of brush, and as it did the Draconian looked—surprised, to say the least, to discover no ‘other side’. It fell off the mountain, plunging to its death.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Darshun got up and walked to the ledge, studying the shadow-gray rocks below. “Hmm, the edges are too smooth, hardly rugged. So much for that idea.”
In the distance, he spotted a familiar tree he’d almost forgotten about, one that grew as high as the mountain having branches two feet thick, scarlet leaves and dark green bark with a tint of blue. “The great tree Merlin! The tree planted long ago by the Air Wizard Azarius. I remember Father showing it to me when I was ten years old, when passing through here. That’s how I can get down the mountain. I will climb down Merlin’s branches!”
Darshun walked along the edge of the mountain, carefully stepping over pebbles of rock and old forest debris until reaching the tree. Its closest branch was about twelve feet away. He cast aside about ten feet of brush to make a path, then concentrated a decent amount of energy, took a deep breath, ran and jumped off the mountain’s edge. He hurled through the air and caught one of the branches, swung himself up then latched onto the wood tightly, gazing at the landscapes below, which appeared to be thousands of feet away.
“Phew…” He sighed sweat dripping down his brow. After a few moments to catch his breath, he began the long descent, branch-to-branch, step-by-step.
Every now and again, creatures of the air would fly by. One in particular appeared to be the Golden Eagle, a mammoth-sized bird, extremely rare, and he adored it. The eagle glided past and locked eyes with him, then continued its flight.
“How magnificent! If only I could talk to animals like Uncle Seth. Perhaps the eagle would give me a ride.”
Soon, he was halfway down the tree, and the wind carried up echoes of unfriendly voices and foul smells. He slowed his pace and peered below.
A dozen Cullach and a few other creatures with burgundy skin, unnaturally slender bodies and pointy ears, stood out on a wide ledge stretching into a large opening upon the mountain.
“Oh no, more of them? How can they be gathered down there? Did they climb down Merlin also? Unless that opening is a tunnel that runs through the inside of this mountain?” He climbed to the opposite side of the tree, away from the enemies and started back down. When he came parallel to them, he noticed they were conversing in a language he’d never before heard.
It sounded strange, the way the sentence structures stretched out, or the simple responses to a long agitated speaker—eerie, to say the least.
He gathered they were probably talking about Seth and him, possibly Elwin too. Curious, he wanted to catch another glimpse of the burgundy-skinned creatures again, the Cullach too. Just a quick glimpse, then he would be on his way. After all, what was taking place this morning seemed like something out of a dream.
Carefully, he poked his head around Merlin's thick trunk behind a set of branches clustered together like a spider web. This would allow him cover, even when looking upon the enemy. Just as he shifted his left foot on a lower branch, he hadn’t realized how close to its edge he already stood, he carelessly slipped and fell a few feet. Hurriedly, he grabbed another branch, catching himself. Darshun, you fool! He remained still, hands sweating, heart racing.
“You there!” a Cullach shouted, “Reveal yourself!”
Darshun didn’t answer—of course.
One of the burgundy-skinned pointy-eared creatures shot an arrow at the tree some feet below him…an explosion erupted. Almost immediately, it shot a second arrow, this time striking above Darshun, which exploded also, and both sections of the tree scorched into beautiful dark-yellow and orange flames.
Inexplicably, something peculiar happened. Unlike a fire, which every now and again, ignites sparks these fires ignited what looked like hands of shadow—long and bony with dagger-length claws. In reality, there were no creatures around fitting that description, at least not on his side of the tree.
When these shadow hands reached out, no sooner would another section of Merlin scorch into flames.
“You have nowhere to go, intruder,” the Cullach warned. “Give us the crystal and we’ll make your death painless. Otherwise, bathe in the flames.”
No natural or perhaps earthly fire could burn the great tree Merlin so easily, or possess such bizarre effects. These flames were different. Darshun could sense a presence of magic within them, but it wasn’t Nasharin. Probably not Wizard either. This felt dark…evil. He believed he couldn’t proceed through unharmed, even in Transformation. For what if he were ‘grabbed’ and burned alive? He hadn’t much time either; for every passing second—the fires spread.
“What am I to do? Wait—the Azriel River! If I can climb out far enough on this branch, I should be above the water. He grabbed hold of it, firmly gripping the thick wood, and began to climb across. Unfortunately, it reached out past his cover, and once the Cullach saw him they began shooting arrows.
He could hear them flying past; one stuck between his fingers, another beside his head.
Darshun withdrew and got behind the tree once again. The fires were so close now they were beginning to singe his skin. He felt at any moment one of the shadow hands would reach for him. He thought of jumping from where he stood. Would he make it? The blistering heat fast becoming too much, and the smoke stung his eyes. He needed to make a choice quickly.
At that moment, some type of black sappy liquid began seeping out from the tree causing the fires to produce thick black smoke and seemed to hold back some of the flames—along with the supernatural hands, for they could not pass through.
This gave him the cover he needed. The spirit of Merlin is aiding me, he thought. Now’s my chance.
With hands sweating, he climbed across the branch. Arrows aimlessly flung past him every second, but he didn’t stop for anything this time. Soon, he reached the end, took a deep breath and let go. He felt like a star descending from the Heavens. Closer and closer the river came, the wind drawing teardrops, the fall stealing his breath. He straightened his body like a pin and plunged into the river like a solid rock. He sank deep into the cold water and struggled to make it to the surface.
Once he broke through, the currents carried him away fast, giving him no control. Up and down he bobbed, the water becoming choppier. Then, he remembered why, and also what lie ahead— the waterfall! Helplessly drawn to it, with a sharp wind striking his face, he actually enjoyed the wondrous dark-green woodlands in the forest below, and the grassy hilltops lying west of the trees. For these last few moments, he still remained above the common landscapes, and it looked spectacular.
Then, like a piece of driftwood having no control over the power of the currents, he flowed over with the water along the falls, falling yet another great distance and again, plunged into the deep dark river. He swam up to the top, nearly out of breath and fortunately saw a large log drifting over the currents. He climbed onto it, gasping for air then lay still a while, resting as the driftwood floated along the water, a slight breeze blowing against him.
Prophecy Of The Guardian (Guardian Series Book 1) Page 11