The Chosen - Rise of Cithria Part 1

by Kris Kramer

  Chapter 3

  Aiden scrambled to his feet, looking for cover amongst the splintered trees surrounding him, but his sluggish body resisted his every movement. He'd been the victim of Warshield magic before, but nothing as formidable as what he'd seen from this one. His muscles were numb, and the forest around him had been ravaged. But he was still alive, and as long as that held true, he could fight back.

  “Move!” he yelled, although the word sounded more like a garbled moan. Aiden ducked behind a tree, then glanced back to see Finias still on his back, staring in shock at the Warshield. "Move!" he shouted again, and this time Finias responded, rolling over and darting across the clearing to his own hiding spot. “Here!” Aiden tossed over the longbow, which Finias snatched out of the air with his left hand.

  The sky rumbled and Aiden ducked back behind the tree as another lightning bolt slammed into the ground between them, shaking the trees and rattling the branches so violently that hundreds of leaves and nuts fell to the ground. Aiden turned back to Finias, who had sheathed his sword and pulled out an arrow. Finias gave Aiden a nod followed by a roguish grin, and then disappeared into thin air, fading into the shadows so he could sneak up on the Warshield. That left it to Aiden to keep their enemy distracted. Aiden shook his head, partly in disbelief, but mostly at the fact that he'd have to play the bait against this monster. He squeezed the hilt of his sword, took a deep breath, and then charged.

  He dodged left and right through the trees, always keeping something between him and the Bergsbor, to make it more difficult for him to target his spells. It proved to be a fortuitous tactic as the Bergsbor raised his hammer to the sky, and a crackling blue bolt struck the tree just behind Aiden, splitting it down the middle. The shockwave sent Aiden stumbling forward before he awkwardly regained his balance and pressed on. The Warshield held his hammer out, ready for melee this time. Aiden remembered his no-parry strategy from their last meeting and decided it was still a good idea, so when he finally got close enough to attack, he made sure he was the aggressor. He feinted a high swing, then switched into a low thrust. The Warshield bought the feint and raised his hammer up, allowing the sword to go into his midsection – where it bent as soon as it hit armor. Aiden pulled the sword back to see a curve in the blade that might have snapped it in two had he thrust any harder. He didn't have time to be upset, though, because the Warshield swung his hammer outward in a wide arc, aiming straight for Aiden's head. He waited as long as he could before finally dodging to his left, his heart skipping as the wind from the swing brushed by his cheek.

  Aiden held the bent sword out in front of him, having no other defense for the back swing that was sure to come. Luckily, Finias appeared from the shadows behind the Northman, holding his bow up and pulling back an arrow. The relief must have been clear on Aiden's face because the Warshield noticed his gaze and turned to see Finias readying his shot. Aiden ducked away – in case Finias missed – but they were both surprised when the Warshield disappeared into thin air.

  “Whoa,” Finias said. His eyes went wide, then darted all about. He lowered his bow in disbelief. He'd mocked Aiden only moments ago for claiming the Warshield could do this, but there was no denying it now.

  “Watch out.” Aiden looked around frantically. “He's still here, we just can't see him.”

  “I know how it works,” he replied, backing away and raising his bow again.

  Aiden put the bent sword into his belt and reached down to grab a large, club-shaped branch lying on the ground nearby. Not a great option, but it was thick and sturdy, and he felt safer with the branch in his hands than he did with that ridiculous piece of iron. He swore to himself that if he got out of this alive, he'd have that sword melted down one day and re-forged into something useful – like a spoon.

  Suddenly, the Northman reappeared a few yards to Finias' right, and Finias responded by yelping in surprise and ducking away to his left. He scurried toward the nearest tree and faded. Aiden charged once more, yelling taunts to get his enemy's attention, but the Warshield faded again before he could get in range, leaving Aiden standing alone amongst the trees.

  “Show yourself!” he yelled out in frustration. “Fight me!”

  He waited, but got no response. He stood silently, listening to the sounds of the forest around him. Fading was a skill based on magic that tricked the eyes, but not the ears. If he concentrated, he could hear the footsteps of both Finias and the Warshield. Especially the Warshield, considering all the armor he wore. A gentle wind rustled the leaves nearby, making it hard to pick out distinctive noises, but he thought he heard the crinkle of leaves to his right. He moved in that direction, hoping to get lucky by stumbling into one of them. Fate must have been with him, because he heard a twig snap in the same area, behind two clustered trees growing around each other. He stopped again, listening, and choosing exactly where he would throw his body.

  Without warning, the Warshield appeared several yards to Aiden's left, charging toward the same trees. He shouted as he reached them, releasing another spell that caused everything around him to tremble. Finias appeared, falling backward from his hiding spot, his fade broken by the tactic. The Bergsbor sidestepped the trees and raised his hammer, looking to crush the young bandit's skull.

  Aiden lunged forward, and the Warshield twisted his hammer around, knocking the branch away with the edge of the long handle. Aiden pressed the attack, swinging again and again, each blow knocked away expertly by the Northman, but distracting him enough to let Finias pop up and sprint away, getting distance between him and the two warriors. For the hundredth time Aiden wished for a better weapon, or any weapon for that matter. Between the bent merchant's sword and this tree branch, he'd barely put a scratch on his enemy. And he’d thought to kill this thing?

  He remembered a lesson he'd learned from a trainer in Solstin, a former armsman and spearman named Graff, who'd lost his hand in one of the early battles of the war. Graff, despite his bitterness at having to stay behind and train others instead of fighting himself, always harped about using your environment to gain an advantage. Solstin was surrounded by marshlands to the east, which were full of shallow pools that proved useful in slowing down an enemy's advance if you situated yourself just right. Aiden didn't have any shallow pools handy, but there was a river close by - a dangerous environment for someone wearing armor.

  He had to refocus his thoughts as the Warshield quickly countered a parry by bringing his hammer forward in a thrust toward Aiden's belly. Aiden sidestepped, but he felt the edge of the hammer's iron head brush across his torso. Fortunately, that allowed Aiden to swing high and smack the Warshield square on the side of his head with the branch. The Warshield stepped back and swung out angrily, exactly as Aiden had hoped. He backed away, drawing the Bergsbor after him. When he saw that he had his attention, he turned and ran toward the riverbank.

  “Stay with us!” Aiden yelled to Finias. “And shoot him!”

  “I'm trying!” Finias fired off a shot that just missed the Warshield's shoulder, striking a tree nearby instead. He grimaced with the effort, then shouted back. “In case you forgot you hit me in the arm with a rock!”

  Aiden crashed through the trees, glancing back every so often to make sure the Northman stayed in pursuit. Eventually, the forest thinned out and he reached a narrow clearing that edged up against the river. He spotted a small batch of clay huts about fifty yards down the bank that a clan of goblins called home. Calderans in the past had been notoriously prejudiced against non-humans, one of many reasons why elves, dwarves, firbolgs, and a host of other races fought so readily against them in this war. But some Calderan lords had recently made token measures to rectify that, including providing land to the Garzhak goblins. The Garzhak once lived in caves and forests in the southern edges of the county, and raided farms for livestock and supplies. But Lord Amus Enrik, who owned the land south of Corendar, including the town of Alvarton, had decided to solve two problems at once, by giving the Garzhak land near the river.
Hidden away by thick woods, they could hunt and fish in peace, and leave southern farmers alone, provided they paid taxes, which they surprisingly managed to do most of the time.

  The Warshield, carrying forty pounds of armor and weapons, had fallen behind a bit, so Aiden had enough of a lead to do what he needed to do. He ran for the village, shouting like a mad man. At first, only one curious goblin poked his head out the front door of his half-sized hut, watching in confusion as Aiden came charging down the riverbank towards him. But as soon as the goblin squealed out a warning, eight more appeared from their own huts, brandishing weapons and shields. Garzhak goblins were small creatures, the tallest coming up to a man's waist, with thin, sinewy arms and legs under leathery, faded green skin. They had long, thin faces and long protruding noses, with small bug-eyes peering out from a prominent forehead. They weren't strong, but they were quick and fierce, and dangerous when attacking as a group. They used swords and spears for hunting and fighting, and while a goblin sword would be little more than a dagger for Aiden, their sturdy hunting spears would be strong enough to pierce a Warshield's chain armor.

  Aiden ran to the closest spear-wielding goblin. The creature tried to stick it in his gut as he approached, but Aiden easily sidestepped the thrust, grabbed the spear and yanked it out of the goblin's hand. The goblin shrieked at him, but Aiden ignored it and kicked him in the chest, sending him tumbling away. Several more came running toward him, yelling at him in their gibbering nonsense that passed for a language, and he immediately targeted the one carrying a big shield. He glanced back to see the Warshield stop in the clearing between the village and the tree line, raising his hands to the sky. Aiden had only seconds to get that shield before things became much more complicated. He charged through the four goblins trying to flank him, parried a sword strike with his spear, then grabbed the edge of the goblin's shield tightly just as the sky above them roared.

  Blue energy crackled in the air around them as lightning struck the space just behind Aiden and the goblins. Aiden stumbled forward onto his knees, while the four goblins around him were thrown in four different directions, including the one with the shield. Aiden kept his grip on the edge of that shield, though, so when the goblin landed, he threw himself forward and prodded the creature away with the butt of his spear. The goblin, terrified of the lightning, abandoned the shield and ran back to the village, where dozens more of his people watched with a terrible fascination. Aiden slid his left arm through the loops on the shield and hefted the spear in his right. He stood in the middle of the goblin village, feeling like a true warrior once more, and with a renewed sense of vigor, he charged forward.

  The Warshield called forth his lightning again, but Aiden was ready for it this time. He hit the ground, rolling forward as the bolt pounded the earth behind him, sending the awestruck goblins back into their homes. Aiden found his feet and lunged forward with his spear, forcing the Northman to duck to the side. He responded with a wide swing of his hammer, and Aiden leaned back to avoid the blow, but the heavy iron head caught the edge of the wooden shield, breaking off a small chunk with a loud snap. An arrow whizzed by the Warshield's head, and they both turned to see Finias standing at the tree line. The Northman ignored him and swung at Aiden again. Aiden leapt back, then used the Warshield's long backswing to his advantage. He jumped in close, trying to hook the Northman with his shield arm and hold him in place while he jabbed him with the spear. The Northman pushed him off, and then shouted his bellow again, trying to knock Aiden off his feet. The cagey armsman was prepared for that, though. He widened his stance, which helped him hold his ground against the buffeting wind.

  Another arrow flew by, this time clipping the Warshield on the side of his hand. It didn't pierce the armor, but he definitely took notice this time, and visibly contemplated breaking off to attack Finias instead.

  “Don't scare him!” Aiden shouted, not taking his eyes off the Warshield. “Kill him!”

  Aiden lunged with the spear, trying to keep the Warshield focused on him. The Warshield parried away the attack, but he didn't follow up with one of his own. He'd obviously decided to stay on the defensive now, which would make things difficult if Finias couldn't hold up his end. Aiden stepped forward with a feint to the Northman's head. He leaned away, so Aiden thrust the spear again and again, each time seeing it smacked away by the hammer or simply sidestepped. Aiden, frustrated by the change in tactics, decided to gamble. He feinted low, going for the legs, and deliberately lowered his shield to leave an opening for a counterattack. The Warshield hesitated, but took the bait. After dodging the feint, he raised his hammer and swung down. Aiden quickly raised his shield and prayed it would hold.

  The wood cracked in two as the hammer hit the shield, and Aiden's left arm flared in pain, but he had the opening he needed. He leaned in and thrust the spear down, digging it deeply into the Warshield's thigh. The Bergsbor cried out, and yanked his leg away, freeing it from the spear, but Aiden just spun around and thrust the butt end of the spear into his gut, sending him staggering back, clutching his stomach with one hand and his leg with the other. Aiden sensed the advantage now. He strode forward, determined to end this with another feint and thrust, only this one would be fatal. He hefted his spear up and decided that this time he'd be aiming for the heart.

  Suddenly, an arrow stuck into the Warshield's neck. His head jerked back and his eyes went wide. He dropped his hammer and clutched at his throat helplessly as blood poured out of the wound. Aiden turned to see Finias readying another arrow. He raised his bow, pulled the arrow back slowly, and after a moment's hesitation, let it fly. The arrow sailed across the clearing and pierced into the skull of the Northman. The momentum of the impact carried him over, toppling him onto his side, dead before he hit the ground.

  Aiden stood next to the body and stared at his vanquished enemy. Blood poured from his throat, but there was no movement, no breathing, no nothing. Aiden let himself take a deep breath, reveling in the knowledge that it was done. The Warshield was dead, the old Brin couple – and who knows who else – were avenged, and they could take the body to Corendar and claim their due reward. He smiled, exhausted, and turned to look at Finias, expecting to see the same. But there was no smile, no sly expression, no flippant remarks. Instead, Aiden saw a young boy, still in his teens, with a look on his face that he'd seen a hundred times before on the battlefield.

  He had the look of a man who had just taken his first life, and who realized that there was no going back.