Rise of the Ranger (Echoes of Fate: Book 1)

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Rise of the Ranger (Echoes of Fate: Book 1) Page 46

by Philip C. Quaintrell


  Perhaps more troubling, Adellum continued to march towards them and Asher had no idea what his plan of action should be.

  “I will have that ring, ranger.”

  Asher ignored his friends’ curious looks and focused on the approaching problem. His sword glistened in the rain, some feet behind the dark elf. The ranger pulled free his rune-sword from its sheath on his back, but the moon was low in the sky now, leaving the shining silvyr to appear as any other steel. Though shorter than his broadsword, the weight of the rune covered blade still felt more familiar in his hand. He had trained and fought for decades with short-swords, though none as deadly and strong as the one he now held.

  Never one for words or banter before a fight, Asher dove into a flat-out sprint for the elf. Before they could collide, the ranger used his momentum to spring into a leap, while raising his sword high to come down in the fashion of a scorpion’s tail. Adellum swayed to the side at the last possible second, leaving Asher to cut through nothing but air. The dark elf was quick to follow with his own attack, and swiped his magnificent bow to remove the ranger’s head with one of the limb-blades. Anticipating this counter-attack, Asher had already dropped into a roll and came up with his back to the fort’s entrance. He could only hope that the Arakesh would spectate rather than get involved.

  The dark elf span to face Asher, leaving his own back exposed to Reyna, Nathaniel and Elaith. The four quickly surrounded Adellum and attacked as one. Unfortunately, Adellum had the mind of a tactician, and not just any tactician, but one who had coordinated battles ten times the size of West Fellion’s siege. Before any could touch him with a blade, the dark elf lashed out with a swift side-kick that sent Elaith flying towards the central courtyard, in front of the main keep. Adellum had clearly decided that the young knight would be a hindrance and that a simple kick would remove the potential thorn. This of course, caused Nathaniel to hesitate and look back to check on his ward. That slight lapse gave Adellum all the time he needed to parry both Asher’s and Reyna’s attack before spinning round to back-hand Nathaniel. The Graycoat span around in the air and flew through a stable door and into the mud.

  In only a few seconds, Adellum had gone from being attacked by four adversaries to two. As if he was wielding a spear, the dark elf used his bow to deflect their blades, as well as using it to counterattack. The limb-blades cut through the rain with a speed that Asher was finding hard to track without his blindfold. Reyna danced around the ancient elf, with her scimitar slashing at every opening she could find, only to be evaded and parried by Adellum’s bow.

  Asher used his free hand to grip the mighty bow and force it down at the same moment Reyna whipped her scimitar across Adellum’s shoulder plate. The blade failed to find skin, but the blow was strong enough to push the dark elf back, allowing Asher the room to jump and bring his head down into Adellum’s nose. The dark elf’s head snapped back and the ranger kicked him in the stomach. Asher gave no quarter and chased the elf, as he rolled back towards the larger courtyard. Beyond him, Elaith was starting to stir with her arms propping her up.

  Adellum shot up from the ground with his hood swept from his head and his mask pulled down. The General was as pale as a ghost underlaid in dark veins beneath the skin. His bald head was laced with tattoos in the ancient script that curled round his pointed ears. With a gloved hand he mopped the trickle of blood that ran from his nose and observed the red liquid as if he hadn’t seen it for an age.

  Golden eyes bore into Asher before his next attack. Adellum snarled and evaded the silvyr sword, twisting his body to bring up his bow. The limb-blades knocked Asher’s sword aside and went on to slice through his right leg. The ranger would have yelled in pain had the dark elf not punched him in the jaw, forcing him to the ground.

  The night was illuminated with a blinding flash, when purple lightning streaked across the courtyard and slammed into Adellum with enough power to push him back. The elf’s feet skidded across the ground until he lifted his hand to form a magical barrier. Reyna screamed with fury, her arms outstretched, as she unleashed her magic on the General. The lightning began to spark around Adellum when his barrier grew stronger. With slow footsteps, the dark elf ploughed towards the princess, his black cloak pushed out behind him.

  “Silly little elf!” Adellum roared over the rain and lightning spell. “You are throwing a stone at a mountain.”

  The dark elf expelled a blast of energy that ran through the current of Reyna’s spell and struck her entire body. The princess was flung into the archway behind her, where her head slammed into the stone with enough force to knock her out.

  “Reyna!” Nathaniel came running out of the stables and dropped to the floor at her side.

  Asher got to his feet and stood between them and Adellum. Smoke and steam rose from the General’s armour, but still he stood, his golden eyes flitting from the princess to the ranger.

  “Why protect them?” Adellum asked. “The elf is nothing to you. The Graycoat would see you dead. You could have led the Arakesh to countless victories. Instead you live like filth, standing between that which cannot be beaten,” the dark elf looked past Asher, to Reyna and Nathaniel, “and that which was born to be beaten.”

  “Why don’t you come over here and I’ll show you what beaten looks like?” Asher defied his aches and pains, and straightened his back, broadening his shoulders.

  “Fool...” Adellum came at Asher with his bow high.

  The limb-blade was halted mid-air, only a foot from Asher’s face, by an elven scimitar. Faylen delivered a swift kick to the General’s midriff, knocking him further into the courtyard.

  “That’s twice I’ve saved you from a falling blade.” Faylen smirked through the rain.

  Asher had just enough energy to smile back before they attacked the dark elf.

  Alidyr had taken to the shadows on a high beam, in the corner of the courtyard. He now possessed a female assassin whose name escaped him. They were all tools for Valanis, nothing more. He looked on as the Graycoats put up a valiant effort to defend their home against insurmountable odds. Many had fled or taken up hiding within the keep now, their fate more obvious to them than others. It didn’t matter. Wiping out the Graycoats was a side-note compared to their true cause for attacking.

  Paldora’s gem was only feet away.

  Asher, and the elf known as Faylen attacked Adellum from all sides, seeking a gap in his defences. It was his counterattacks they had to watch for. The blades attached to his bow could tear through any armour, elf or otherwise. The fact that Adellum hadn’t used any arrows was testament to the fun he was having. The dark elf was enjoying the thrill of a real fight for a change. For too long they had stuck to the shadows and operated out of secret. Now the Hand of Valanis would show Illian what the power of Naius could really do.

  In the far corner of the courtyard, he could see the princess was coming to. The over familiarity between her and knight was clear to see.

  The Arakesh began to gather in the archways and atop the wall to watch the fight. The heroes were completely boxed in to the courtyard with one of the deadliest warriors in all of Verda. Alidyr observed the ranger land several blows as well as a significant cut across Adellum’s hip. The ranger’s prowess gave the head of the Hand pause, rethinking his last thought.

  Nathaniel cupped Reyna’s face in his hands and thanked the gods when her eyes opened. He kissed her tenderly before she sat up and looked at him, dazed.

  “Stay here.” Nathaniel put the scimitar in her hands and only got up once her grip tightened.

  The Graycoat paused when he saw the dozens of Arakesh gathering at the edges of the yard. They filled the wall above them and blocked the archways. All were watching Asher and Faylen battle the dark elf. Their swords clashed with his limb-blades and hardened gauntlets, often creating sparks.

  He would be damned if he didn’t lend his own sword to the fray. They would deal with the Arakesh when the time came, if they defeated Adellum. Nathaniel jumped into th
e opening between Asher and Faylen with his sword pulled back. The knight’s thrust was parried by the elf and sent dangerously close to Asher’s head. Luckily, the ranger’s fast reactions allowed him not only to dodge Nathaniel’s stray sword, but also evade an upper-cut attack from Adellum’s bow.

  For every blow they landed, Adellum struck them twice, drawing blood more often than not. More than one fist found its way into Nathaniel’s face or chest, knocking him to one knee.

  Exhaustion was setting in. The Graycoat had no idea how Asher had maintained such stamina, especially with twenty years on Nathaniel. Faylen however, appeared as if she could keep fighting for hours.

  “Give me the ring ranger,” Adellum said between attacks, “and I promise your friends will be granted a quick death.”

  Nathaniel didn’t have time to think about Adellum’s strange request, and continued to search for an opening.

  Elaith found it first.

  The young knight appeared from nowhere and jumped onto Adellum’s back, hooking her legs around his waist and clinging to him like a leech. The dark elf struggled under her added weight and became off-balance. Elaith pulled an arrow free from the general’s quiver and jammed it into his neck until half of the shaft was buried beneath his flesh.

  Adellum roared and dropped his bow to the ground. Asher didn’t hesitate to kick the weapon away, before turning his sword against the elf. Elaith was thrown from his back when the ranger thrust his short-sword into Adellum’s gut, penetrating the gap between his armoured plates. Faylen came in at another angle and plunged her scimitar between the armour around his chest. The dark elf dropped to his knees when Nathaniel brought his own sword to bear. The Graycoat drove his blade with both hands down into Adellum’s chest so that it cut into his guts.

  All was silent, but for the pouring rain.

  Adellum became very still, resting on his knees with three swords skewered through his body and an arrow in his neck. Nathaniel dared to hope that they had defeated the dark elf.

  That was when Adellum began to laugh.

  It wasn’t the laugh of a man about to die, delirium setting in, or even the laugh of a man with three blades stuck in his body.

  The dark elf looked up at them. “Did you think it would be that easy? I have been granted power by Valanis, the herald of the gods themselves! You possess no weapon capable of killing me!” Adellum’s roar was infused with enough magic to create a bubble of energy that exploded from his core, slamming into Nathaniel and the others.

  With their swords still in hand, they were each flung, along with their weapons, across the courtyard. Adellum rose to his feet, laughing as he did. It was his laugh that disguised the sound of a bow-string being pulled taut. Nathaniel looked up from floor to see Reyna wielding Adellum’s bow.

  The princess was focused on the elf. “How about this weapon?”

  The arrow flew through the air, cutting the rain drops, until it found its mark in the centre of Adellum’s chest. The dark elf was launched into the wall of the main keep, where he remained, pinned to the stone. If the General roared, it was drowned out by the expulsion of energy that rocked the very foundations of West Fellion. A mighty crack shot up the keep’s wall, breaking the stone.

  Waves of energy continued to pour out of Adellum, who clawed at the arrow in his chest. His movements began to slow in proportion to the waves of energy which increased in intensity. More cracks appeared along the walls, each stretching out from the epicentre where Adellum stood, pinned.

  Reyna was by Nathaniel’s side in moments, helping him up, as the others gathered around them. The giant crack grew up the side of the keep and along the central tower. The Arakesh ran for the main entrance, sensing the same doom as Nathaniel.

  “He’s going to explode!” the Graycoat shouted over the humming waves of energy that pulsed from Adellum.

  The archway between them and the main gate collapsed under a ton of stone and flailing Arakesh bodies. If they sought shelter inside the keep, it would surely fall on them. There was no way out.

  “I’m too weak to create another portal...” Faylen said with dismay.

  They could only look on as West Fellion continued to crumble around them. Soon the tower would collapse on top of them, or Adellum would unleash all of his magic and wipe them out.

  “Asher...” Faylen gripped the ranger’s arm.

  “I don’t know how to do that?” Asher replaced the silvyr blade on his back.

  “Just think about where you want to go! We need to reach Elethiah! Think about it and command the world to take you there!” Giant slabs of stone were already coming loose and falling into the yard. The group was forced to huddle together to avoid the debris. “Do it now!”

  Adellum’s screams could no longer be heard amid the waves of energy. His body hung limp against the keep wall and the veins beneath his skin glowed hot red.

  Asher raised his hand and closed his eyes. Paldora’s gem knew no bounds, its power expelling the rain from the black hole that opened in front of the group. Lightning sparked from the edges of the abyss and the rain continued to fall as it should. Nathaniel had never seen anything like it before, but if Faylen’s words were anything to go by, Elethiah was on the other side of it. He didn’t want Elaith to go to that place, but anywhere had to be better than this courtyard.

  “Run!” Faylen grabbed Reyna’s arm and rushed her through the portal, followed by Elaith and Asher.

  Nathaniel took one last look at the place he had grown up in. West Fellion had given him the tools and skill he needed to survive, to be a knight of worth... but it had never been his home. The Graycoat ran through the portal only a moment before Adellum’s body exploded with the magic of Naius, his shockwave taking all of West Fellion with it.

  Alidyr pulled back from his acolyte’s body as Adellum’s death brought the entire fort down. The elf leapt to his feet and turned his table over in rage, spilling the water and sending scrolls flying into the air. Adellum’s death was significant, and the Hand would surely suffer for it, not to mention his bow was now in the hands of the princess. But his death aside, Alidyr was furious that Paldora’s gem had escaped his grasp.

  Still, there remained hope for his master’s salvation. Faylen, the princess’s mentor had instructed the ranger to open a portal to Elethiah. They meant to destroy Valanis. Alidyr had been studying magic for over a thousand years and knew better than most that, even with the gem providing Asher power, he would be too inexperienced to open a portal to Elethiah. No one ever opened their first portal and found themselves where they wanted to be.

  There was still time.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  DRAGONS’ REACH

  Gideon looked up, between the canyon walls, to see the orange sky of dawn give way to a brilliant blue. There was nothing but cloudless skies in the south. The young mage found himself missing the cool winds and grey clouds that drifted over The Adean. He missed Korkanath. Gideon shook his head and brought his mind back to the present, not wanting to dwell on other things he missed, other people he missed.

  The Red Mountains consumed the entire landscape for miles around them. There was little vegetation dotted around the canyon floor, but it could be considered lush in comparison to The Flat Wastes. Gideon was just thankful for the shade. It would be midday before the light of the sun found his skin again. For the parts that weren’t burnt, his usually pale skin had turned a shade of olive he had never experienced before.

  “I can’t feel my legs anymore.” Gideon adjusted his position on the lizard’s saddle, but it made no difference.

  Galanör drained the last of his water skin, squeezing the hide to get every last drop. The supplies attached to the scouts had provided them with more than enough food and water to see them through The Flat Wastes.

  “When the midday sun graces the sky, we’ll find shelter and rest for a while.” Galanör appeared rejuvenated after finishing their trip across the desert with mounts and a good supply of water and food.
r />   The canyon soon opened up to a vast valley, with rolling hills of desert sand and dusky red rock. The landscape’s colour certainly earned its name. Gideon noticed the falling stones to his right but failed to see what had caused the disturbance, thanks to the sweat that ran into his eyes. Whatever it was, his lizard began to express great concern. The beast reared its flat head and bellowed to its companion, who suddenly tried to turn around, against Galanör’s wishes. Gideon fought with the reins to keep the animal under control, until he saw what had spooked them.

  “Sandstalkers!” the mage shouted.

  Galanör turned in his saddle and pulled free one of his scimitars, when he too saw the hideous creatures. Gideon had seen Sandstalkers before, but they had been lighter in colour to blend in with the sand of The Arid Lands in Illian. These monsters were a dirty shade of red to allow for better camouflage. Standing on six pincer-like legs, at eight-feet, the creatures’ bodies were that of a spider until the head of the body formed up into a torso, not dissimilar from a man’s. Two thin, but well muscled, arms extended from the vertical torso and ended in five long fingers, as razor sharp as any blade. The head was a grotesque amalgamation of man and spider, with two meaty fangs hiding a smaller mouth of serrated teeth.

  Unfortunately, Sandstalkers were as fast as they were hideous.

  Gideon counted fourteen standing on the ridge of the nearest dune, each stomping their sharp legs in anticipation of the meal to come. The lizards took no heed of their riders’ directions and ran blindly into the valley. The Sandstalkers needed no further assessment, and now only saw them as prey. Like a spell fired from a wand, all fourteen of the monsters belted across the dunes, kicking up clouds of sand behind them.

  The two lizards panicked and collided into each other with enough force to knock Gideon and Galanör from their saddles. The mage rolled again and again through the sand until he landed awkwardly on a small rock.

  “I really hate this place...” Gideon remarked through laboured breaths.

 

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