Neither Aeron nor Melia waited to shoot. Both arrow and bolt flew at almost the same time with Aeron’s projectile striking first. His arrow struck the spawn in the chest while Melia’s bolt dug into its shoulder. The creature opened its mouth and uttered an unearthly howl, like the low moan of a dying animal that made Melia’s blood run cold. She saw its luminescent eyes narrow in hatred as he it glared them before flinging its arms forward like whips even though they were well out of its reach.
Unfortunately, the distance did not appear to be an obstacles as its lengthened and tapered like branches that bore sharp claw like hands at the end of it. They lashed out at Aeron and Melia with such speed that neither had time to escape its reach. The tendril like fingers clamped around Melia’s ankle yanked back with such force, she was swept off her feet. Landing hard on her arm, she once again felt the familiar pop of her shoulder and was barely able to keep from screaming in pain when it started to drag her across the floor.
Aeron on the other hand had dropped to his haunches in an effort to avoid being impaled through the chest by the claws that were sharpened like knives when it flew towards him. Only then did he see Melia being dragged across the dirt away from him.
‘Melia!’ He made a wild lunge to grab her wrist but she was too quickly out of his reach. The wooden appendage attempting to impale him did not given up and came at him again. Aeron rolled over as it drove its sharp point into the ground where he would have been and flipped onto his feet and unsheathed his sword. Swinging the blade, he cut the deadly spike away from the rest of the appendage. Another agonised howl followed as it retracted its limb and that gave Aeron time to reach Melia.
Dragged across the dirt like of sack of flour, Melia tried maintain her calm when she saw an arrow flying over her head to strike the spawn in one of its eyes. Glowing yellow fluid exploded viscously from a ruined eye as the creature uttered a scream of pain and fury, releasing its grip of her ankle. She scrambled to her feet, finally able to draw her own sword and ran to protect Aeron as he rearmed his bow.
She stopped short when she saw another spawn appearing through the woods behind her Prince. It appeared the creature in the middle of their campsite had not come alone and the other was lying in wait to attack at an opportune moment. Aeron yet to see it, too preoccupied with coming to her rescue and putting down the creature that had dragged her across the ground earlier. The new arrival closed in, extending its limbs that quickly turned into sharp spikes There was barely enough time to warn him before she bolted forward, ignoring the pain in her shoulder as she ran to intercept the thing.
‘Prince!’ She cried and shoved Aeron aside just as the branch reached them. There was a moment of blinding pain when she felt the point of it press again her jerkin and then penetrate the leather to reach her skin. What ability she had to hold back her scream vanished as the jagged point tore through her shoulder and then out again.
Melia screamed without even realising she had done it.
The agony of it was all consuming and she could think of nothing as her knees buckled beneath her and she landed on them, stunned from the shock of it. She became aware of the sensation of warm blood spreading across the fabric of her shirt and the stench of iron rich blood almost made her gag.
For a split second, Aeron could only stare.
Nothing registered. Not the fact that her wound was not mortal or that it was her shoulder that was impaled, not her chest. She stepped into the path of danger for him and his mind could not process the realisation she could have died for him. When the creature retracted its limb, bark glistening with blood, her blood, something inside Aeron snapped and rage he did not believe could exist inside him, surfaced like bile in his throat with all consuming fury.
‘I am alright!’ Melia managed to cry out because the danger was not over and if they were to survive this, he had to shed that look of horror on his face and act quickly. There were two of the things now and this injury meant she would be next to useless. He had to save them both.
Hearing her say it did not subside his fury because it was like a fireball inside that needed venting. One of the creatures came at him again and his blade was there to meet it, severing it’s limb with one hard strike. The other was going after Melia and though she was managing to fend it off, he could tell she would not be able to do it for long. One strike perhaps, two maybe but no more than that. Her arm was hanging limply at her side and it required strength to cut through bark. He needed a more permanent end to these creatures.
It came to him in a flash of inspiration and Aeron sprinted across their campsite, stopping at the fire before tossing his arrows into the flame, quiver first. The spawn guessing his plain attempted to stop him but Aeron hacked through the branches lunging at him with elven speed. Glancing at the arrows in the fire, he saw that they were ready and plucked one out of the fire before shooting it at the spawn Melia was combating. It struck the creature in the middle of its body and for the first time, Aeron saw fear in it’s eyes as it came face to face with its most primeval fear.
He spared no further thought as he swept up a second arrow and shot it into the other creature, the arrow embedding itself in its body like the first. Both monsters were too panicked to try and put out the fire, instead running towards the stream to extinguish the flames. Aeron gave them no such quarter as he fired arrow upon arrow into both of them with each step they took forward. Each new arrow drove them into a further state of terror until they lost their sense of direction entirely and the dry bark of their skin ignited like tinder.
Once they were consumed in flames, Aeron retrieved his small axe from his saddle bag and began hacking at them with merciless determination. The burning children of the mother tree flailed their limbs about desperately as they attempted to fend off the blows but dismemberment and fire soon ceased their struggles and sank to the ground as small pyres of flame.
Melia let out a sigh of relief and stumbled away from the conflagration, sinking to her knees a short distance away, finally surrendering to the agony in her shoulder. Gritting her teeth against every moment she made, she had forced herself to stand because he needed her help but now that the danger had passed she was yielding to her pain of it. As soon as she had dropped, Aeron glanced over his shoulder to see where had gone. Upon realising that she was down, his raged immediately subsided to be replaced by a new emotion—fear.
‘Melia?’ He skidded to her side, the sight of the blood slick against her jerkin provoked a fear so thick he could choke on it.
‘I am alright,’ she assured him, seeing the naked fear in his eyes. ‘It hurts like anything but I think it just pierced my shoulder, not any more serious.’ Of course, she was no healer and she could not say for certain if she was really injured or not. It just seemed important at this moment that he hear it.
‘Let me see,’ he told her finding their places reversed from days ago when it was he who had been injured and needed help with his broken ribs. Of course he was an elf and he healed rapidly, she was not. Never more than at this moment, did Aeron feel the fragility of her mortal existence. How easily he could lose her to the perils of this world.
She did not offer protest when he opened the buttons of her jerkin and then her shirt to see the wound. There were splinters in it he was sure but it was impossible be certain in this dim light. In fact, if they were closer to Eden Iolan, Aeron would have taken her straight there however, at the moment, Tor Iolan was closer. Even though it reeked of evil, the fortress itself was empty and it would provide them with some shelter from another attack. If they rode now, they could reach it before dawn.
‘I will dress this quickly for travel,’ he said to her, kissing her gently on the forehead and noted the sweat against his lips. He needed to bind this wound quickly to prevent any further loss of blood. ‘We are leaving as soon as I am done.’
‘You will have no argument from me,’ she said weakly, closing as her eyes as the pain throbbed against her shoulder in wide, burning pulses acutely at
her. She did not realise she was quivering even though she was until he examined her wound, dressed warmly. Her throat felt dry and it felt like there wasn’t enough air in her lungs.
‘That will be a change,’ he added with a small smirk as he covered her up once more and set to work. They had a long ride ahead and he did not want her condition to worsen before they arrived at Tor Iolan where he could properly attend her injuries.
For once, going to Tor Iolan would save a life instead of ending it.
Chapter Nine:
Tor Iolan
For thirty years the fortress of Tor Iolan was the singularity to which all evil in the north was drawn.
Constructed almost immediately after the fall of House Icara, Balfure built the fortress for his Disciples to over see the occupation of the Northern Province. From Tor Iolan, Balfure directed his attacks against Angarad and Eden Halas while maintaining control of Cereine by ensuring any dissenting voices were soon screaming within its walls. The Disciple Kalabis, a sorcerer himself, was known to have conducted many a dark ritual using the prisoners brought here over the course of three decades.
When Aeron approached the ancient fortress, he could see the silhouette of the building against the sky though there were no lights in its windows to indicate any habitation. This did not surprise him, Tor Iolan had been abandoned since the end of the Shadow War. Some Berserkers had taken refuge within its walls for a time after the end of the conflict but the elves had promptly driven them out. Forced into the woods, they soon discovered that in the woods of Iolan there were things far more dangerous than them lurking in the shadows.
The tower itself was rectangular with turrets at each corner. The top of the keep was partly demolished by the assault of a trebuchet during the final battle between the elves and the Berserkers. The land on which it was built was devoid of vegetation. The dark spells conducted by Kalabis, hungry for life force, sapped it out of the earth when the victims sacrificed for the purpose were not enough. The ruined land remained spoiled, defiantly refusing to allow the forest to reclaim it
Aeron led Melia’s horse behind him while Melia herself was pressed against his chest as she sat astride his horse, his arms around her as she slept. As promised, he attended her wound enough to keep her from losing more blood and making her fit fro travel but a more permanent treatment was needed. Unfortunately, with the scent of her blood wafting through the forest, Aeron knew to remain where they were was to invite every creature hungry for flesh back to their campsite. Leaving was the only option they had.
For once she did not protest when he swept her off her feet and put her on his saddle, a testament to the seriousness of her condition. Instead, she acquiesced and allowed him to ferry her all the way here and at some point, succumbed to exhaustion. One hand on the reins while the other holding her firmly to him, he spent the journey breathing in the scent of her hair and feeling the rise of and fall of her chest against his. Somewhere in the middle of the night, he offered a silent prayer to the Celestial Gods for her continued survival until they reached the fortress.
Upon arriving, his first order of business was to make a quick scout of the building to ensure that they were indeed alone here. While the Berserkers were known to be driven away, there was nothing to stop anyone else from taking up residence following the departure. Aeron left nothing to chance before he would bring Melia into the keep.
When he was finally satisfied that it was safe to do so, he brought the horses to into what was the great hall and allowed the animals to be stabled there while he took Melia upstairs to the solar and the private chambers of Kalabis. It was in all likelihood the one place in the entire fortress that did not reek of misery, death and torture.
Even an evil Disciple needed to sleep, Aeron supposed.
Returning to the hall, he unpacked the horses and then using his elven ability to speak to them, directed them to the river where they could drink and graze in open country. They would return when they were needed and truth be told, with Melia’s injury, they may well be in this place for some days. Still, despite their unsavoury surroundings, Tor Iolan would afford them some measure of protection during the night since the cursed land surrounding it kept most creatures away.
The solar was ransacked of anything valuable the Berserkers had quit the place. What furniture that was left, a chair or a upturned table was of little use to them. Aeron cleared a corner of the room of debris and dust before he laid out Melia’s bedroll. Once her sleeping place was prepared, he finally set her down.
Melia was now in a deep sleep that had much to do with the rhoeas tea he had made her drink during their journey. He had found the dried leaves in what appeared to be a healing pouch in her saddle bag and was aware the plant possessed certain properties that dulled pain and apparently induced sleep. The limited quantities of it in her possession indicated he did not have to use very much and he was right. It had let her lapse into a peaceful sleep because the ride was hard on her injury.
While the room was almost empty, save for the chair and table, there were also pieces of wood left over from furniture that was broken up to light a fire. It was quite idea for their needs for the window gave him a good view of anyone approaching from the trees. No traces of its former occupants remained for which Aeron was grateful. Despite being abandoned, Tor Iolan radiated a sinister atmosphere that did not die with the Disciples. Even when the sun was out and glaring across the barren land around them, he could still feel the anguish and horror this place had wrought during its day.
Once they were settled, he went to the well which had it source from the nearby river and was grateful to find that the water was still fresh. Then he set to work tending to Melia. Fortunately twenty years at Dare’s side had given the elf some experience in tending to wounds acquired by humans. The Circle had often joked that when Dare needed a royal physician more than an army if the frequency of his injuries was anything to go by. Of course why Dare became injured so often had to do with the fact that he was always the one charging ahead into any peril to spare his friends.
As expected, the spawn’s limb speared her shoulder right through to the other side but did not damage any organs, only muscle and bone. These could be healed in time. He removed the splinters, cleaned the wound and stitched the raw flesh. Applying a poultice to the wound to reduce any chance of a fever, he bandaged her up again and then let her sleep some. Only then did he allow himself to relax as he sat next to her, sipping tea and wondering whether or not she was right.
Whether he really understood what it was like to love a human.
When he thought that the spawn had killed her, his heart had stopped beating in his chest. The despair that threatened to overwhelm him was so complete he did not think he would survive it. How would it be if he lost her after a life time together? Would he die? Was he willing to die? He knew of elves who lost their mates and succumbed to death because the grief had been too much, too overwhelming. Was he willing to place himself in the same position?
Yet, as he watched her sleep, he knew it was too late. He loved her. It had probably happened when he met her at the Frozen Mountains. Kyou, that damned dwarf, had seen it but Aeron refused to admit it because back then he had sense enough to know the price for loving a human.
Now he did not care. As always, the heart seldom required permission or appropriate timing when it chose to love and Aeron was too far gone in his feelings to protest.
Whatever the pain it would ultimately bring.
******
The woman was weeping.
She was crouched in the corner of her cell, weeping terrible tears.
The creature standing before her was not a man. He was the progeny of Syphia. From a litter of what she considered to be her lesser children, he was the oldest and protected his younger siblings from Syphia’s more powerful creations who would have devoured them if given the chance. It was he who listened to the Mastery’s warning that they needed to leave Sanhael soon because the Celestial Gods we
re coming. He who made the choice that spared them the fate that fell over many of Syphia’s children in Sanhael that day.
The woman was not the only one in such torment this day. Echoes of other voices, men and women, weeping elsewhere created a windstorm of pain swirling around the creature who had caused it. He was not alone though. There was someone else with him. A dark man, with skin so flawless in its colouring, it was like looking into the richness of dark soil. He wore rich amber robes and his brown eyes lacked the indifference to the woman's tears that was worn so shown by his unholy companion. His eyes were haunted, bearing the look of someone who was damned for all time and knew it.
‘This will not work,’ he implored the creature before him, the one who wore black like an endless chasm of darkness. ‘I cannot do this.’
‘You have begun,’ the creature answered and his voice had the will to drain the life from anyone who heard it. It was all the things hidden in the night and lurked in dark places waiting for prey to emerge.
‘I cannot finish,’ he replied. ‘They will die before I am done and what good will they be to your Master, unformed?’
The woman continued to weep, heeding nothing of them both.
‘He is your Master,’ the creature reminded. ‘You chose to serve him in this place. We have been good to you. You have had your fill of unwilling subjects to work your magic. Now it is time to pay the price for that.’
‘I never intended this!’ The man cried out. ‘I only wished to make something greater than elves or men combined. Your master had no right to twist my work into this abomination!’
‘My master has right to do anything he pleases!’ The creature shouted and though his voice was not loud, its menace sent fear through the man.
Avalyne Series 02: The Easterling Page 12