Wielder's Rising

by T. B. Christensen

  33

  Gilrod stared with awe and shock as the gargantuan ball of what appeared to be ice slammed into the ground, crushing his master under its massive weight. The ground shook with the force of the impact and a wave of air blasted through the ranks of soldiers watching from a distance.

  Whoever the young man in black was, he had killed Gilrod’s master. The mighty Wielder Kadrak had fallen. He watched as the young man in black struggled to get back on his feet but fell back and lay still. The power he had wielded had undoubtedly left him completely drained. He must have used every last ounce of his strength in his relentless attack against Kadrak. The Kalian wielder had defeated the most powerful man in the world, yet now he lay weak and defenseless.

  Gilrod’s eyes took on an evil gleam. The Balthan Army had no chance of winning if the Kalian wielder was left alive. Without Kadrak, they would be decimated by the wielder in black and the Kalian Army. He would not allow that to happen. He had tasted victory and power like he never had before, and he wouldn’t give them up without a fight.

  He burst from the crowd of soldiers who were still staring in wonder at the giant ball of ice. Their minds were still numb from the epic battle they had just witnessed. His mind was not. His legs carried him swiftly towards the body of the wielder in black. He held his sword at the ready as he closed in on the still form. The young man wouldn’t survive to celebrate his victory over Kadrak.

  * * * * *

  Blaize stared with amazement as the midday sun glinted off the giant ball of ice in the distance. He could hardly believe what his own eyes had just witnessed. He had recognized Traven almost instantly when his young friend had appeared on the hill and challenged the Balthan wielder. His initial surprise had soon been replaced with fear and concern for his friend’s life.

  He had tensely watched the confrontation from his saddle. When the Balthan wielder had spoken with Traven, Blaize had strained to hear the conversation but was too far away to make out the words. The thick band of soldiers between him and the open field surrounding the two wielders had kept him back. The intense battle of magic that had ensued had left him speechless.

  He had soon realized that Traven had somehow grown to be a master wielder over the last couple of months. He had no idea how it had happened, but it was obvious that his young friend was as skilled in the ambience as the Balthan wielder.

  He had watched anxiously as the battle continued. When Traven had been engulfed in flames his heart had almost stopped, and when the young man had reappeared and launched such a ferocious counterattack, his heart had leaped. In the end, his heart had sung at his friend’s victory.

  He turned his attention from the glistening monument of ice and stared at the still form of Traven. The fight must have exhausted him. A flash of movement from the edge of the inner ring of soldiers caught his eye. An enemy soldier was running towards Traven with his sword bared.

  Blaize instinctively reached for his war crescents. He groaned as his hands came up empty. He had used them both earlier in the battle. He tried to shove his way through the thick ring of soldiers but realized it would be impossible to get to Traven’s side in time. He watched with despair as the enemy soldier closed in on Traven. There was nothing he could do!

  His eyes widened as three arrows suddenly sprouted from the attacking soldier’s chest. The man came crashing to the ground several feet short of reaching Traven’s body. He quickly looked around for the shooter and located him. A tall, cloaked man stood on the same hill where Traven had first appeared with a bow in his hand. The cloaked figure quickly threw the bow over his shoulder and raced down the hill with surprising grace and quickness. He swiftly covered the open ground between the hill and Traven. When he reached the young man’s body, he whipped out his sword and took a defensive position.

  Blaize had no idea who the cloaked man was but was immensely thankful for his quick action. The man’s defensive stance reminded him that although the Balthan wielder was no more, the battle wasn’t over. There was still much to be done. Blaize quickly tied a rallying flag to the end of one of his swords and began waving it in the air as his voice boomed out in the silence.

  “To me! To me!”

  He smiled as the Kalian soldiers began regrouping and rallying around him. Traven’s victory had destroyed the Balthan Army’s most powerful weapon. Now it was up to the Kalian soldiers to finish the battle and defeat the remaining Balthan troops.

  * * * * *

  Traven slowly pushed himself into a sitting position and looked up at Darian. The elf had startled him when he had jumped over him moments before. Darian had his sword out and was surveying the soldiers at the edge of the empty field. Not far from him lay a Balthan soldier, riddled with arrows. Where had he come from? He turned back to the elf.

  “Why aren’t you with the princess?” he asked weakly.

  “She’s safe,” Darian replied with a smile. “I’m just fulfilling my duty to keep you alive. Can you stand?”

  “With some help,” he replied. He took Darian’s outstretched hand and let the elf pull him to his feet. He tried to stand on his own but wavered. His legs felt like jelly and his head was pounding. Darian pulled his arm up over his shoulder and allowed Traven to lean on him.

  “I would suggest getting off the field of battle as quickly as we can,” the elf said. “I don’t think the Balthans are very happy with you right now.”

  He glanced around at the staring Balthan soldiers and saw that many did indeed have looks of hatred directed at him. The dead soldier near him took on a whole new meaning. Darian really had just saved his life. A wave of deep gratitude toward the elf washed over him.

  “I think you’re right,” he agreed. “Let’s get out of here.”

  He half walked, half stumbled as Darian led him back to the foothills. In the distance he could hear Kalian battle cries. Soon the battlefield was in commotion once again. The battle wasn’t over yet. Luckily, none of the Balthan soldiers were brave enough to come after him. Darian quickly led him into the hills without any incidents.

  “Thanks,” Traven said once they were safely in the foothills. “I believe you just saved my life.”

  “That’s what I live for,” Darian said as he flashed a grin. “It’s nice to know that I’m good for more than just errands.”

  He returned the elf’s smile. He was reminded of how fortunate he was to have the elven warrior as his devoted servant. However, Darian was much more than a servant. He was a true friend. Traven leaned heavily against him as the elf led him deeper into the foothills.

  The sounds of battle were soon muted by the tall hills at the base of the mountains. They turned a corner at the bottom of a hill and ran into six royal guards, all with their swords drawn. They apparently recognized Darian and stepped aside, letting the two of them pass.

  Traven spotted the Princess Kalista immediately. She lay under a small tree at the base of a steep incline. Another eight royal guards were near her. A couple had burns and dirt on their uniforms, but the majority looked as though they hadn’t seen any action yet.

  Darian led him over to the princess. She was sleeping, but her breathing was quick and shallow. Her delicate face was marred by a puffy, blackened eye and her hair was clumped with blood and dirt. She also had bad burns on the left side of her body. She was alive, but she was hurt badly.

  Tears brimmed in Traven’s eyes. He hated seeing her in such a state, but he was relieved to see her safe and alive. In the end, he had reached her in time. His hand involuntarily reached out and brushed a stray piece of hair from her soft cheek. He realized what he was doing and jerked his hand away. He then carefully pulled out the healing stone from one of his pockets and held it just above Kalista’s left side. Darian placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “Is this wise?” the elf whispered in his ear. “You barely have the strength to walk.”

  “I have to do what I can for her,” Traven replied. “I still have a little strength left.”

  He wasn�
��t sure how much healing he would actually be able to do, but he wanted to ease the princess’ suffering as much as he could. He concentrated and began feeding the stone. It started to glow with a white light that grew brighter and brighter. His pounding headache became excruciating. He pulled more energy out of himself and continued feeding the stone. His vision soon began to blur. He decided he better stop, but it was already too late. He slumped down and all went black.

  34

  Kalista gazed down at the sleeping form of the young soldier Traven. He lay on a cot in one of the soldier’s tents. Despite the burns on him and the scrapes and bruises on his face, he appeared calm and content as he slept. His face looked surprisingly serene. She wondered what the young man might be dreaming about after such an intense battle.

  It was hard for her to believe all that she had been told upon waking up. Apparently Traven had showed up just in time and saved her life. His mysterious cloaked companion had carried her safely back to the royal guards who had been waiting. While she lay unconscious, Traven had fought the Balthan wielder in an epic battle of magic and ultimately defeated him.

  He had then made his way back to her side, healed her injuries, and lost consciousness. She still could not believe that she had been completely healed. She remembered the lightning blast that had scorched her and sent her flying through the air. She remembered slamming into the ground and then passing out right before being burned by a fireball. When she had woken up, she wasn’t even sore.

  It was hard for her to think of Traven as a wielder. It did explain how he had saved her from the serpent, but it was difficult to think of the nice young man as possessing such great power. She supposed it was hard for her to imagine anyone wielding such power.

  She glanced from Traven towards the cloaked man that waited in the corner. She couldn’t make out his face, but she could tell he was watching her every move. He made her nervous but not in a threatening way. No one knew anything about him except that he wouldn’t lower his hood and he wouldn’t leave Traven’s side. She turned her attention back to her rescuer.

  She wished she could do something for his burns and bruises. He would be in pain when he woke up. She was once again inadvertently the cause of his injuries. She would find a way to repay him. This was the second time he had saved her life. She would properly thank him when they returned to Candus. She reached down and squeezed his hand. A small smile flitted across his face as he shifted position on the narrow cot. She couldn’t help but smile back. Kalista suddenly remembered that the cloaked man was still watching and pulled back her hand in embarrassment.

  She gave her rescuer one last look and then ducked out of his tent. She hurried through the night air towards where she would be eating dinner with Gavin. As she walked, she rubbed her hand against the folds of her dress, trying in vain to get rid of the warm, tingling feeling left over from holding Traven’s hand.

  * * * * *

  Traven sat upon the ornately gilded throne. The crown of Kalia rested comfortably on his head. A silver armband with a bright green stone was clasped tightly around his left bicep. At his side stood the beautiful Princess Kalista. He smiled as she laid her hand comfortingly on his shoulder. She was alive and safe. Things were how they were supposed to be. He felt calm and relaxed for the first time in over a month.

  It made him slightly uncomfortable to be alone with the princess, but it also felt right. The strange thing was that he couldn’t remember how he had gotten on the throne or why the crown was on his head. Maybe the princess could tell him how he had gotten there. He turned to ask her, but she stopped him by putting her finger gently against his mouth.

  He stared back into her mesmerizing eyes as she pulled her finger away from his lips. She then reached down and grabbed his hand. The feel of her soft hand around his, sent a jolt of energy up his arm and throughout his entire being. He smiled back at her and reached towards her with his other hand. However, she quickly pulled away and hurried towards the door. Where was she going? He tried to stand up to follow her but couldn’t. He struggled against the invisible barrier and finally sat up.

  * * * * *

  Traven looked around in confusion for a moment. Where was he? He felt a presence near him and turned to see Darian standing off to the side. He was on a cot in a dimly lit tent. He closed his eyes against the pounding in his head and lay back down with a groan.

  “You just missed her,” Darian said.

  “Who?” he asked groggily.

  “The Princess Kalista. She just left.”

  He smiled as he remembered the feel of her hand wrapped around his in the dream. It was too bad he hadn’t awakened before she left. He involuntarily opened and closed his hand at the memory.

  “She held your hand,” the elf stated.

  “What?” Traven said as he sat up and opened his eyes. How could Darian know of his dream? “How did you know that?”

  “I was standing right here,” Darian replied with amusement in his voice. “I saw everything she did while she was here visiting you. Maybe you better lay back down and rest.”

  It took a moment for him to realize what the elf meant. The princess had actually held his hand in real life. Now he wished even more he had been awake sooner.

  “Did she say anything?” he asked excitedly.

  “Why would she say anything?” the elf responded. “You were asleep.” He chuckled as Traven put his hands to his head and lay back down with a grimace. “She did stare at you for quite awhile. Almost for as long as you stare at her in your screeing dish.”

  “How long have I been asleep?” Traven asked as he quickly changed the subject.

  “Since this afternoon when you passed out,” Darian replied with more than a hint of amusement still in his voice. “The sun went down about an hour ago. You slept right through the surrender and the end of the battle.”

  “What happened?”

  “After you defeated the Balthan wielder, the Kalian Army rallied and increased their attack against the invading army. Without the wielder at their lead, the Balthans lost heart and surrendered after only a few hours. It quickly became apparent that without him, they couldn’t hope to prevail.”

  “So the war is over?”

  “Yes,” replied Darian. “And the Kalians recognize they have you to thank for it. You’ll need to be very careful. By defeating the Balthan wielder you have become a very important person.”

  He knew Darian was probably right. He didn’t want all the extra attention, but he knew it would be impossible to avoid it after his public battle with the wielder. Too many people had seen what he was capable of doing. He wondered if he should just sneak away and return to Faldor’s Keep. He did know how to make himself invisible. As appealing as the idea was, he needed to find out if Blaize was okay and wanted to meet with the princess in person before leaving.

  If the vision he had just had before waking was any indication of the princess’ safety, he could leave her and head back to the keep. However, after so many days of worrying for her safety, he needed to wait a few more nights to confirm that she wasn’t in danger any more. He tried to pretend that this was his main reason for staying, but deep down he knew it was more than that. After having his thoughts and emotions affected by dreams of the princess for so long, he wanted to be around her for awhile. He needed to clear up his feelings before leaving.

  “You know what Darian?” he said as he reflected on his current emotions. “It’s gone.”

  “What’s gone?” the elf asked.

  “The feelings of foreboding, depression, and loss. Every day since the princess first disappeared from my dreams, I’ve had those feelings linger with me. Now they’re gone,” he said with a smile.

  “So you must be feeling great,” Darian observed.

  “Other than the fact that my burns sting, my side aches, and I have a pounding headache, sure I feel wonderful.”

  “I warned you about healing the princess,” Darian replied. “The headache was your choice.�
�

  “Yes, but it was worth it,” he replied.

  “You should probably stay down and sleep it off,” the elf suggested. “You pushed your body too far today. If I hadn’t been there, you’d be dead. You would do well to remember that in the future.”

  “I know,” Traven replied. He lay in silence for a few moments, resting. He then opened his eyes and sat back up. “Do you know what I need more than sleep right now?”

  “What?”

  “Food. I’m starving!”

  Epilogue

  “You look fine,” Darian said with a chuckle.

  Traven kept looking at his reflection in the wash basin and tried to smooth his hair down. He was wearing a clean set of his black clothes. He had washed the dirt and dried blood from his face, but there was nothing he could do about the bruise and scratches.

  “It’s just breakfast,” the elf said. “You’re not the only one that will be there with the princess.”

  He shrugged at Darian’s comments. He just wanted to look presentable. He was happy that a full meal and a good night’s rest had taken most of his headache away. His dreams had also been peaceful once again. He had been awakened this morning with the invitation to join the commanders and the princess for a midmorning breakfast.

  He doubted he would have the chance to speak to the Princess Kalista at breakfast, but at least he would see her. He hoped he might even have the chance to ask her whether or not she had clearly heard the messages he had sent her on the wind. He glanced in the wash basin again. He decided he looked as good as he was going to and straightened up.