by Marcus Sloss
Just when I thought things would get heated, my next fire attack already in my hands, the Lezric froze in place lowering their weapons. Confused, the Silverwolf fighters halted their attacks as well. Both sides were at a standstill.
I followed the gaze of the Lezric soldiers and found Illia, walking toward us gracefully. She wore the shorts and tunic given to her by the Silverwolf clan, her once waist-length, and pale-pink hair trailing behind her.
She appeared ethereal, seeming to almost glow as she walked toward us. Her delicate features and small stature, a harsh contrast against the scenery of battle she strode toward, no fear present on her face.
Tate moved toward Illia, toward the wolf clan who tensed in response, readying their claws to attack.
“We’ve come to take you home, Illia,” Tate pleaded, his words falling on deaf ears.
“That was never my home. I won’t go with you. Leave now, while I’m askin’ nicely,” she told them, her stance firm as she spoke.
The leader’s face contorted in disgust, his hand clenching his weapon. Tate turned his pleading gaze on the leader, begging for more time to convince her.
“We will take better care of you, we promise. Not like before, it will be better this time. We can even give you your own house. Would you like that?”
“All I hear are empty words. I’m not a child anymore—I don’t need to be taken care of and certainly not by the likes of you Lezric. I’ll give you a final chance. Leave now and we can forget you were here. Otherwise, don’t blame me for what happens next.”
Again, as if on cue, a spear came flying toward Illia, stopping short as it plunged into the ground in front of her. She eyed it with disbelief, so sure the Lezric would turn tail and run. She inhaled deeply, holding it a moment before letting it out in an over exaggerated exhale.
Her head shot up, and her eyes focused on the lizardman who threw the spear. She lightly raised her hand, palm up, toward the assailant.
The earth shook as it bended to her will, the ground raising into a mound. The earth hovered in an elongated shape before Illia flipped her hand toward the ground, consuming the lizardman standing near the moving earth, his eyes locked in a fearful trance. Damn.
It happened so effortlessly, so quick, that the Lezric didn’t even know how to respond. Illia didn’t give them time to process either.
Using both of her hands this time, Illia cut the air in front of her, sending the ground rippling under the Lezric. With their balance disrupted they toppled over, finally realizing that she was the source of the strange occurrences.
Horror replaced their once fierce expressions, the understanding that they were in way over their head sinking in. I joined in the chaos, shooting fire arrows at the fallen Lezric soldiers. Fire didn’t seem to have as much of an effect on their toughened skin, but I still dealt some damage to their forces.
Feeling the flow of my mana, letting it build in my fingertips, I prepared to use my lightning mana gift.
Taking aim, I pulled back my hand, releasing the lightning bullet toward the target.
The Lezric fell to his knees, slumping to the ground, a dime sized hole in his head—success.
Illia laughed loudly, lifting the dirt under her until she stood several feet above the ground. She pushed the mass forward, riding the mound closer to the formation of soldiers.
When she placed herself in the middle of the crowd, she lowered herself to the ground, breaking the mound into floating chunks before expelling them toward the lizardmen.
The rocks dispersed, hitting the Lezric with intense force, their bodies falling backward with each blow. Tate stood off to the side, and Illia, having noticed him, moved in his direction.
She brought her hands together slowly, the dispersed rocks coming together to form a rock barricade around Tate’s body. She left him like that, a wall of rocks surrounding him on all sides with no way of escape, focusing her attention on another of the Lezric fighters.
The Lezric soldiers moved away from Illia, trying to venture further into the wolf clan’s village, but there were plenty of fighters on stand-by, ready to block the attempt.
The Silverwolf clan attacked, their claws long and unforgiving, while Aquina and Cera joined the fray as well, weapons ready to attack.
It wasn’t difficult to see that the Lezric were being completely overwhelmed, our victory only a matter of time. Still, we fought as though the tides could turn at any moment, not willing to give them an opening.
After taking down a few more soldiers, their numbers easily diminished by half, if not more, the group started moving toward the exit, huddling up together. All at once, they dropped their weapons, hands raised as they admitted defeat.
The Silverwolf clan halted their attack, stepping back to determine their next move. The leader of the Lezric stepped forward, hands raised.
“We surrender!” he announced, raising his voice loud enough to be heard over the commotion.
Murmurs erupted amongst the wolves, unsure of how to proceed.
“Do we just cease the battle?” one of the beastwoman beside Mika mumbled, close enough for me to hear.
“It is the outcome we were looking for.” Mika responded, considering their sincerity.
As they discussed the potential that the Lezric’s surrender was a trap to allow them to regroup with the remaining fighters in their village, Illia soundlessly stepped toward the Lezric leader. I moved toward her, worried the surrounding soldiers might try to catch her off guard.
“Please, have mercy,” the Lezric’s leader said in a calm voice, one lacking the sincerity of someone who believed their life was truly in danger.
“Please, have mercy,” Illia repeated his words, anger rising in her voice.
“Spare our lives, and we promise to follow any command. Please. We won’t bring you any trouble.” Illia’s clenched her fist tightly, the rocks around her obeying her emotions as they adhered to her hand and forearm.
“At the very least, please, spare my babies.” Her anger mixed with sadness, her eyes never leaving the eyes of the leader.
“Mercy is for the weak.” Her tone changed, signifying a different speaker.
“Isn’t that right, Commander? Or do you feel differently now that you are the one askin’ for it?”
Understanding crossed the face of the commander, fear finding its way into his features.
“I’m sorry, it was a mistake—” the Commander pleaded, but it was much too late.
Illia extended her arm out to the side, the rocks sharpening with the motion to form a blade at the tips of her fingers. The motion was quick, effortless, and with another swift movement in front of her body, the Commander’s head rolled to the ground.
“Guess that answers that question,” the beastwoman chuckled, her claws sharpening for the impending battle.
When the leader's head separated from his body, the remaining soldiers retaliated. Spears flew in Illia’s direction intent on avenging their fallen leader. I knew she could handle herself, but I instinctively brought up a fire wall in front of her, deflecting the spears before they could reach their target.
Illia remained still, her fists still clenched as tears streamed down her face, the rock sword long returned to dirt. Her mind was a million miles away, but I needed her to come back to the present.
“Illia!” I shouted, trying to make my way over to her, blocking the attacks of the incoming soldiers as I moved.
“The battle isn’t over—focus!” I shook her impatiently.
She turned to me, and her eyes clouded as she gripped the collar of my shirt. Putting my hands over her small, clenched ones, I said her name again, softer this time as I looked deeply into her eyes.
“Nolan?” Her voice came out weak.
As if waking from a dream, she glanced around the surroundings, remembering that we were in the middle of a fight.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, releasing my shirt from her death grip.
“Nothing to be sorry for,”
I responded, convinced she would be okay.
“Rahh!” Cera’s hammer fell hard on a soldier to Illia’s right and she smiled at us, blood splatter fresh on her cheek, before returning to the chaos of the battle.
When the last Lezric succumbed to their inevitable fate, I felt my body relax, the threat extinguished. I noticed Illia walking away from the group toward the rock pile that remained, remembering that she had trapped a soldier inside amidst the fighting.
Finding Aquina and Cera among the crowd, I walked over to join them, keeping an eye on Illia's movements. She breathed deeply, calming herself before touching the stone pile in front of her. Her hand on the stone, the once solid structure turned to dust, the particles falling to the ground and revealing the huddled form of Tate from within the pile.
“Illia,” he said, stuttering as he straightened his posture.
He surveyed the area, his expression growing increasingly grave the more bodies his eyes scanned over. Fear overtaking him, he turned with the intention to run.
Illia shook her head softly before flicking her fingers upward slightly. Rocks built up from under Tate’s feet, securing him in place, his attempt to run futile. Illia stood in front of him, her eyes fixated on his face.
“Tate,” she said firmly, garnering his attention.
“Yes?” He bowed his head low, chancing the occasional glance at Illia.
“Don’t worry, I won’t kill you. I need you to send a message for us. Tell your clan to give up. To stop looking for me and my friends. Oh, and don’t be tryin to seek revenge against this village. Break any of these demands, and we won’t stop with your soldiers. We’ll come for your whole village until not a single Lezric is left standing. Do I make myself clear?” She leaned in close to his face, whispering her final question.
Tate shakily nodded his understanding, wringing his hands and awaiting further instructions.
“Good,” she said simply, releasing him from his stone shackles.
Tate, feeling the moment of release, wasted no time in running back through the hole in the gate, continuing in the direction of the Lezric village.
I walked over to Illia and placing my hand on her shoulder, I asked, “Are you ok with that?”
“Yes. Though I hate the Lezric, Tate was the only one who showed me any semblance of compassion...the only one who saw me as something other than a convenient tool. Still, it wasn’t enough to help me escape or to get me out of the dungeon at the very least.”
Aquina, recognizing the battle as won, ran over to us, wrapping Illia in a comforting embrace.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered into her pale locks.
Illia’s muffled response could be heard from her place against Aquina’s chest, “It’s a relief. I finally feel like I avenged them. Maybe they can finally find some peace.”
I let the three have their moment, Cera quickly joining in the hug to comfort Illia, and I headed over to where I saw Mika inspecting the broken wall.
“How’s the damage,” I questioned as I approached.
“All things considered, not so bad. We are sending out a unit to cut down some trees in the nightmare forest in a bit. I want to start on the repairs for the wall as soon as possible. No need to invite any more invaders. We also need to collect and bury the bodies, so they don’t attract beasts.”
As he listed off the things that needed to be addressed, I nodded after each one, ready to help wherever needed.
“I can lead the team for the nightmare forest mission,” Vero spoke up, examining the hole in the gate.
“Two or three trees should be enough...more if they are smaller. Be sure to come back before dark—finished or not,” Mika said sternly, letting Vero know he was serious with his timeline.
“You got it boss,” Vero responded, half in jest.
In the end, I decided to help with the collection of trees, following Vero as he collected volunteers for the mission. Aquina and Cera quickly volunteered as well while Illia decided to remain in the village and help with the clean-up.
The group of around fifteen volunteers gathered in front of the gaping hole in the wall, awaiting Vero’s orders.
“I am the leader of this mission. My word is law. If you have a problem following my command, you may leave now. This may seem like an easy task, cutting down a few trees, but the nightmare forest is unpredictable and ultimately dangerous. Keep your wits about you, stay with a partner at all times, and alert the others if anything seems amiss. Is everyone in agreement?”
Acceptance of the terms was easily acquired, and we all left through the hole, not bothering to open the gate. I found it odd that no one carried an axe or any other weapon, but figured they really weren’t lying when they told us they depended on their claws for practically everything.
The walk across the plain seemed shorter now that I was no longer losing blood and we quickly made it to the entrance of the nightmare forest. A chill ran through my body, the memory of those all too real nightmares still fresh on my mind. I could tell Aquina and Cera felt the same, a look of determination on their faces as we prepared to enter.
The trees near the entrance were much too thin to be used for the wall, so, much to everyone’s dismay, we ventured deeper into the woods. Hoping to finish the task quicker, the Silverwolves split off into smaller groups, each with the intention of securing a tree.
I stuck with Aquina and Cera as well as two others from the wolf clan.
“I think this one looks nice,” the taller male of our group spoke up, singling out a thick forest tree.
“Jaron, don’t you think that would be a bit too much for the five of us to carry back...besides that one tree probably has enough wood to fill the entire hole and more. It’s excessive.”
“It’s excessive.” Jaron openly mocked the other member who only shook his head, unamused by the childish response.
He wasn’t wrong. The tree had grown quite tall and by the looks of it wasn’t going to go down without a fight. It would take all the volunteers, if not more, to try and lug it back to the village, a feat we were not prepared to attempt.
Luckily, trees of varying sizes filled the forest, so it wasn’t too long before we found one of a good size that looked manageable with our numbers. The other wolfman, called Argent, marked the tree with his claws and stepped backward, examining the girth.
“Now to cut it down,” He said, more to himself than the group.
“I can help,” I volunteered, imagining that claws alone wouldn’t make for easy tree chopping.
“Alright.” Argent agreed, stepping backward to give me space to work.
“No, no, I can get it.” Jaron ran forward, his claws out and ready, ignoring the group's intentions.
I stopped in my tracks, not trying to accidentally injure anyone in a fight to be the first to chop down a tree. His claws grinded over the bark of the trunk, digging deep into the wood. He struck the tree countless time, alternating between his two hands, his groove growing deeper with every strike.
When he stepped back, he’d cut about a fourth of the way through the trunk. We all remained still, wondering if he would continue. I saw sweat starting to form on his forehead and laughed inwardly, knowing he found the task to be a lot more difficult than it seemed at first.
“Should I help out?” I asked after the brief silence.
“I mean you can try if you want,” Jaron shrugged, stepping back from the tree.
Yes, if I want. I reached for my gift, deciding I would try something slightly different from my usual moves. I didn’t think the wolf clan would appreciate a tree trunk blown to hell by a fireball blast.
I pictured a flat blade, hot enough to slice through anything. I felt the pull of my mana, quickly realizing the attack would require more than my usual contribution.
Still, it didn’t seem to be an amount I couldn’t part with, so I let the fire materialize in front of me.
Directing the blaze with my outstretched hands, I sliced clean through the truck of the
tree, the whole thing finished in a matter of seconds. I let the weapon disperse back into the air, not willing to lose any more of the mana it continued to consume.
“Watch out everyone,” I turned to face the others, Argent and Jaron staring with their mouths agape.
The tree stayed upright, having yet to realize it had been cut at all, and I moved to give it the push it would need. Jaron, realizing my intention, rushed to my side, wanting to be the main force behind the tree's downfall.
He wanted to be able to take some credit for it later, I’m sure. It made no difference to me, and I welcomed the help, both of us placing our palms against the trunk of the tree. With considerable force the tree began to tip, falling to the forest floor with a loud thud.
Moving to the leafy portion of the tree I prepared to slice off the branches using my condensed fire once more. I quickened my pace, trying to use as little mana as possible in the process. The limbs easily separated from the trunk, and we were left with a nice size tree that would make excellent slabs for repairing the wall.
Pulling out the ropes we had prepared, I moved to tie them around the width of the tree. It didn’t take long to realize we made a mistake, not tying the ropes first before the trunk pressed against the dirt ground.
I placed the ropes lengthwise beside the tree, ready to roll the trunk on top of them. My goal was to have handles so we could drag the tree, not expecting we could carry the log out of the forest with just the five of us.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get it.” Aquina smiled, pulling a crystal from a pouch on her hip. “The Silverwolves had some pretty nice catalysts in madam Ondras storage, so they told me I could take what I needed.”
She held the crystal up in front of the tree and chanted in her mysterious language, but nothing seemed to happen. I waited a bit longer, but the trunk appeared unchanged in front of us.
“Try lifting it now,” she told Argent who looked at her skeptically.
Still, he listened, moving to one end of the tree and placing his hands underneath. His face scrunched as he prepared to lift, his body already preparing for the struggle. Unexpectedly, the trunk lifted easily, his face turning to an expression of disbelief.