The Axe's Edge

by Summers, Derick J. M.

“It’s alright, Smash, they’re friends,” Lan announced as he leaned heavily on the big man. “Tanel, Smash, I’d like you to meet my father, Lean’thor. The Dark Elf with him is Dan’tal – the one who brought us news of the attack - and the Elf hovering behind him is Aerlian’thor, El’s father.”

  Both Elves nodded in greeting and Aerlian’thor settled to the ground. The warriors with them eyed Smash nervously and were keeping their weapons at the ready. Lean’thor, who had just released his son from a tight bear hug and was now eyeing him critically, followed his son’s gaze and shot the warriors a dark look.

  “Oh, for Hades sake, put your weapons down! If Smash here was going to attack us, he would have done it by now.” Being careful to maintain his hold on his son, to steady him, Lean’thor offered his arm in greeting to the mountain troll.

  “Good to finally meet you. My son speaks of you highly.”

  Smash clasped arms with the warrior chief, being careful not to crush the tall Elf’s arm.

  “Quite the grip you have there,” he added with a reassuring smile before leaving Lan in his care and turning towards Tanel.

  “And you must be Tanel, I’ve heard of you as well, I knew your father. I’m sorry to hear about your brother.” He gave Tanel a smile and nod as he clasped arms with her before finally moving to Raeth and sweeping her into a hug.

  “Thank you for keeping him alive,” he whispered as he hugged her.

  “Where is my daughter, Lan?” Aerlian’thor finally interrupted.

  Lan frowned for a moment.

  “The question of the hour. We don’t know.”

  Lan’thor proceeded to explain the early morning’s events. Aerlian’thor listened intently as Lan detailed El’s disappearance, asking one or two questions for clarification. When Lan finished, Aerlian’thor was quiet for several moments as he contemplated this new information.

  “I will need to investigate this further,” the older Elf announced suddenly sitting down near the camp’s fire and closing his eyes. Lean’thor rolled his eyes at his companion, shaking his head slightly.

  “He’s likely to be a while. We’ve had a long journey, I suggest we take our rest while we wait.”

  Lan nodded his agreement and Lean’thor made a gesture to the warriors with him. The warriors had all lowered their weapons and now quickly went about setting up their own camp. Lan was still holding tightly to Smash’s arm, not wanting to show weakness in front of his father and fellow warriors. He was doing far better then he had been, but between the excitement of El’s sudden departure and the arrival of his father, he had burned through the little energy he’d had. He was now totally exhausted and only his grip on Smash, and more importantly, Smash’s grip on him, kept him from collapsing.

  Tanel and Raeth had both noted the strain on Lan and moved to him. Each taking a side, they helped him sit by the fire.

  “Too much,” scolded Tanel. “You’re not ready for that much excitement yet.”

  Lean’thor watched with worried eyes. He had obviously noticed his son’s injuries but in typical warrior fashion had not drawn attention to these potential weaknesses. Lan’thor gave him a weak smile.

  “The battle did not go as we would have liked.”

  Lean’thor simply nodded, joined him by the fire and waited for his son to continue. Quietly, while the others fussed around the camp, Lan’thor gave his father the details of the ill-fated expedition to save the Dark Elf village.

  As tired as he was, it took Lan’thor far longer to finish his tale than he would have liked. When he finally completed it, he and his father sat in companionable silence for several minutes.

  “I thought you weren’t coming?” Lan finally asked. “El said the council had decided that the security of the village was too important to risk another force.”

  “That they did, lad,” his father agreed with a nod. “That they did. But fathers will be fathers and when our children are in trouble, few things matter more. Aerlian’thor and I agreed we couldn’t just leave you all to your own devices. So, here we are, and with a bit of help from Aerlian’thor’s magic far quicker than I would have thought possible.” Movement across the fire caught Lean’thor’s eye and he gestured with his chin. “Speak of the wicked and the wicked shall appear.”

  Aerlian’thor blinked a couple of times and then frowned at the warrior’s comment.

  “So?” Lean’thor asked the mage. “Did you find anything?”

  Aerlian’thor nodded slowly. “She did it.”

  “Did what?”

  Aerlian’thor stared at him for a moment more. “Something I have only heard tell of in stories and legends. She transported herself, transported herself to his side.”

  “You mean she’s there? With him?” Lan’thor exploded loudly in stunned disbelief.

  The rest of the companions quickly gathered to hear the details, questions babbling up from all of them at once. Aerlian’thor held his hand up for silence.

  “Yes, she’s transported to his side. She fights with him even now, against incredible odds.”

  “We must go, can you take us?” Raeth asked simply.

  “I cannot,” Aerlian’thor said sadly. “As much as I would love to go to her side, the magic she has performed is unknown to me. To my understanding, it is unknown to our world except in legend. The best I could manage is fast travel, the same way we arrived here so quickly, but even with that it will take more than a day or longer depending on the terrain.”

  “It’ll be over by then,” pronounced Tanel sadly, stating what they were all thinking.

  Home For A Rest

  The attack had been unexpected. Siris didn’t see the spear until the last moment before it punched into his chest. Knocked to the ground, he was awash with pain and anger. Rage welled up inside him. He couldn’t believe it. He had underestimated that damn freak again. He’d thought he was safely out of the way, far at the back, orchestrating the battle but not fighting in it.

  Damn, damn, damn! he thought as he felt the stolen life essences flow from his body.

  Reese had moved quickly, getting him away from the battle with the aid of a levitation spell and dragging him back to the relative safety of the Dark Elf village. Once there, Siris could heal. He could absorb the life forces of these pathetic creatures, these Dark Elves. They would feed his body, providing the energy to close the wound. In Siris’ mind, it was only right that they should feed his need. That was the purpose of lesser creatures - entertainment or food.

  “Damn it, Reese,” Siris complained. “Hurry up.” The agony from the spear in his chest was sending his body into spasms.

  Reese said nothing, moving Siris as quickly as possible. Before long, Siris saw the buildings of the Elfin village. Reese floated him past the Elfin on-lookers and into the central chamber, the temple that Siris had appropriated for his own malignant uses. With a wave of his hand, Reese cleared the remnants of Siris’ latest project from the wide stone alter and carefully floated the General to it, laying him softly upon it.

  “I will make arrangements,” Reese announced before disappearing.

  Siris knew that the mage was gathering up Dark Elves to feed him. It wouldn’t take long, but it felt like an eternity. While he waited, he contemplated his situation. Reese would find him food and he would begin the healing process, but what he didn’t know was how long the Goblin hordes would keep Logan and his wench busy, especially without himself and Reese there to keep the little cowards focused. Given they way the two had been slicing through the creatures, he didn’t think it would be too long.

  Reese returned with the first Dark Elf and began the feeding process and announced.

  “They’re coming,” he announced.

  “Great,” replied Siris breathlessly as he began absorbing the Dark Elf’s life force. The Dark Elf withered away to skin and bone before collapsing in a heap. “Please let them know that I’m not seeing visitors at this time.”

  Reese nodded to the General and left to greet their guests,
calling deeply on his magic as he went.

  As El stepped into the Dark Elf village, a shiver ran through her. The signs of brutality and torture were everywhere. The Goblins had not been kind and much of the village was burned and broken. A large pot occupied the square and El tried hard not to think about what had been cooked in it.

  Dark Elves shuffled aimlessly about. Haunted, vacant eyes stared blankly out of gaunt, drawn faces. El assumed that these were the Elves Dan’tal had referred to in his story. The ones who had tried to escape and failed. The ones that Siris and Reese had made an example of to cow the rest. The able bodied – if any still survived – were nowhere to be seen and the village felt eerily desolate.

  She was tired from their battle with the Goblins, but not as much as she would have expected. With Reese and his energy attacks gone, she and Logan had made short work of the horde. Many of the Goblins had fled into the swamp when they realized their masters were no longer present, rather than face the whirlwind of pain and destruction that El and Logan had become. Still, so many died that the banks of the swamp ran red with their blood, the water taking on a pinkish hue.

  Despite the incredible amount of power that El had already used, she found the magical energy was flowing easily to her. She knew she should be exhausted, tapped out from the strain, but the power continued to flow. It flowed more easily than she’d ever experienced before, strengthening her, rejuvenating her. At one brief calm moment amongst the chaos, Logan pointed out that her eyes had begun to glow under its influence. El had never experienced anything like it and the power was a heady temptation within her. It was at this moment, she began to see how even the most well intentioned mage might lose himself to the temptation. At this moment she felt powerful, immortal.

  A single figure stepped out of the temple to greet her, a figure she recognized immediately. Reese, Siris’ pet mage, faced her across the village square, his hands aglow with the power he’d been calling. Her enhanced mage sight showed her the lines of power, the connections that Reese drew around himself. She saw the truth in his nature. The body he wore was a mask, an artificial construct designed to distract others, to make them underestimate him. Beneath that guise a figure of dark and tainted energy pulled magic from the living world around him. His blindness wasn’t a ruse but Reese could see with clarity beyond measure in the magical realm. Through his magic he touched everything.

  The human mage attacked. No pleasantries, no discussion, just malevolent aggression and anger. His energy blast burned a swath of earth as it charged toward her. It almost made her smile. He was powerful, but unoriginal. She easily shielded herself and the energy passed around her, leaving her completely untouched. Amused, she returned the favour with much the same result.

  Reese watched her, a smile stretching across his face. It had been years since he had been challenged like this. He hadn’t thought it possible any longer. In some perverse way, he enjoyed having an opponent who could come close to matching him. Reese poured energy into the ground and the swamp quaked and shook. A long crack opened up and rushed toward El.

  El’s new vision had shown her what was coming. It was a simple matter to levitate off the ground allowing the fissure to pass harmlessly beneath her. In response, she tore a boulder free from the exposed ground and sent it hurtling toward him. Reese worked his shield quickly and the boulder deflected harmlessly away.

  “You are much stronger than Ar’n’tor suggested,” Reese observed.

  “I’m much stronger than he knew,” she replied.

  “It’s a shame, it won’t be enough.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yes, I can keep this up for hours,” he said.

  “True, we seem to be closely matched. It could well take hours for one of us to slip up, make a mistake. Except…”

  “Except what?” he demanded.

  “Except, you’ve already made one.”

  Reese was curious.

  “Oh? And what mistake have I made?”

  El smiled, it was not friendly. “You forget. I’m not alone,” she revealed.

  Reese’s eyes widened in fear as he realized she was right.

  Where was he? He thought. Siris! I have to protect Siris.

  Turning, Reese surged forward to rush to the aid of his general. Reese was stunned to find he was facing the downward swing of Leveller.

  How? Why hadn’t he felt him approach?

  The answer dawned on him too late. The Elf, she had masked his presence. Somehow, she had managed to hide him, and keep him so busy that he hadn’t realized what she’d been up to.

  Squirrel? he thought in confusion, as the runic axe tore through him, severing him from his shoulder to his waist. The mage collapsed to the ground in two heaps.

  Little House Of Horrors

  “My, my, look what you’ve done.”

  Logan spun round at the sound of the voice to find Siris leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe, a quirky little smile on his lips and a strange twinkle in his eyes. Other than the hole and blood on his shirt, there was no sign of the spear wound he had sustained.

  “Now, where am I going to find myself a new mage?” Siris looked from Logan to El, his smile grew wider as he spoke to El. “How about it? You seem to have grown considerably since we last met.” Siris gave her an exaggerated wink. “Imagine the fun we could have.”

  El shuddered reflexively at the thought. “I don’t think so. For some reason I don’t think you’re going to survive the day.”

  Siris waived off her dismissal.

  “We’ll see. Let me take care of your boyfriend here and we’ll discuss it. I’m sure you’ll come round.” With that final disturbing suggestion, Siris disappeared back into the darkness of the church.

  Logan cast a quick glance towards El, uncertain if he should follow the General into the building.

  “Well, are you coming?” The General called from within. “Don’t tell me you’ve become frightened of the dark all of a sudden.”

  With a final nod at El, Logan approached the darkened doorway.

  You know it’s a trap, came El’s thought.

  I do, he replied in kind.

  Then why?

  Because, trap or not he has to be stopped.

  Approaching the door with caution, Logan peered into the darkness. Something wasn’t right. He wasn’t able to make out shapes in the darkness. Admittedly going from a bright day to a dark room was always hard, but with his vision he should have been able to make out more than just shapes in the darkness.

  Yep, he thought to himself. Definitely a trap.

  As Logan carefully stepped across the threshold, a strange tingling sensation travelled down his spine. He wasn’t sure if it was magic or tension. He half expected the General to come leaping out at him from the shadows. When it didn’t happen, Logan released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

  Now that he was in the full dark, Logan’s eyes adjusted quickly to the gloom, he realized that the shapes he had been able to make out earlier were actually the desiccated husks of dead Elves. Some things were better unclear. Logan felt ill. All around him, the carnage lay on display, testament to the insanity that was the General.

  Logan? What’s going on in there? came El’s thoughts. Something is shielding the building, stronger than I’ve ever seen. I can’t seem to get through it.

  I’m all right, El, Logan assured her. If I had to guess, I’d say the gods want this to be champion versus champion, no interference. Even as he thought it, Logan knew it was true. The gods wanted this.

  Alright, he thought. Just him and me, may the best champion win.

  Logan stared into the shadows and the death that surrounded him, seeking the monster that had caused so much pain but the General was nowhere to be found.

  “Lose something?”

  The words echoed through the hall and Logan spun defensively, waiting for an attack that didn’t come. Logan’s heart thumped heavily in his chest. Movement to his right set Logan on the
attack, Leveller sailing out in a devastating cross chop.

  The Dark Elf stared at him with empty eyes as Logan pulled his strike, driving Leveller into the wooden floor instead of the poor Elf’s head. Though looking into the Elf’s vacant eyes, he might have been doing the poor creature a favour. The Dark Elf’s skin was tight against its bones as though all the moisture had been pulled from its body. It resembled a skeleton more than a living thing. Logan couldn’t even be sure if it was male or female. It was no wonder that he’d thought everything in the room was dead.

  Too close, Logan admonished himself. Take a deep breath and relax. This is no time to be jumpy.

  Wrenching Leveller free from the floor, he watched the Dark Elf shamble off before continuing his search of the room. It wasn’t long before more movement caught Logan’s eye, but he resisted the urge to lash out. As another Dark Elf shuffled past him, he was glad that he did.

  With the dead moving, it wasn’t at all surprising that Logan ignored the next bit of movement in his complacency. It wasn’t until the faint glint of metal caught his eye that he realized he was under attack. The speed of his reflexes saved him from what could have been a lethal blow, but the razor sharp sword opened a long line across Logan’s ribs.

  Turning to counter, Logan found his opponent gone, disappeared into the shadows.

  “Tag. You’re it.”

  The taunting voice echoed through the hall.

  Well, that’s going to get real old real fast, Logan thought.

  With his senses running on high alert, the wound in his side causing his adrenalin to flow, Logan stopped moving and simply waited. It didn’t take long. Movement to his right caught both his eyes and his ears, too fast to be one of the near dead Elves. Logan lashed out with Leveller and was rewarded with a yelp of pain.

  “Now, you’re it,” he muttered under his breath as he closed on the General.

  Siris snarled his reply, a long gash leaking blood down his arm. Attacking Logan like a man possessed, he rained sword strikes down upon the shorter man, pushing him back. It was all Logan could do to block the frenzied attacks, countering them was out of the question. All he could do was wait for the General to tire himself out or make a mistake.