by C. K. Rieke
With the snakes gliding along the cracked sand behind her, and the sandwolf gaining ground on her to their side, Lilaci was in a desperate situation, as she’d run far and was at the brink of exhaustion. All the while, the monsters just behind her unrelenting and untiring in their pursuit. She breathed heavily as she ran as fast as her legs could carry her. They’re too quick. I’m going to have to stand my ground and fight, but even if I decapitate a dozen of those snakes, there’ll be a dozen more that could slither past, and it’d only take one bite. I have to use the Sanzoral, and it has to be now.
She concentrated, and began to focus on it— unburying it from deep in her mind, but it seemed distant. There were too many distractions in her head as she ran— the dead eyes of the snakes, their sharp needle-like fangs, the gnarled mace in the hands of the fur-covered beast ready to break every bone in her body. Concentrate, soothe your mind. Focus on the purple flame, find the light again, call it to you. The Sanzoral— it's my only chance. Come on Lilaci, come on!
She doubled down on her focus, searching her mind for that same power that had come to her before when she needed it. It was close, yet elusive. It felt as if the fingers of her mind were caressing it with their tips, and it remained just out of reach of her grasp. She began to panic, and it drifted further from her reach. The beast was nearly next to her, its eyes were burning red with bloodlust. Even if she slowed a second to parry or evade it, the snakes would overwhelm her, littering her body with bites, and poison. What do I do? Is this it? Is this how I die? Letting down the gods, and dishonoring Veranor? Where is the Sanzoral now? Where is—?
“Back away from her, you demons!” Lilaci heard Fewn’s voice as the fur-covered monster paused enough that Lilaci sprinted forward. The beast stopped in its tracks, seemingly surprised and confused as to who to confront. The snakes, however, continued towards Lilaci. “That’s it, come after me!” Fewn yelled again, holding her sword out, it’s blade shining in the white moonlight. Lilaci saw the same intense eyes she’d seen in the fighting pit all those years before.
The beast ran at Fewn, it huffed and growled as it lunged towards her. Saliva flew from its mouth as it lunged at her with its gnarled mace. She held up her sword to meet its arc, and the two weapons met with a loud clang. Curving her run around, Lilaci began to sprint back towards Fewn and the monster. Watching the two fight, Lilaci was stunned by Fewn’s ferocity and her grace as a fighter. She and the beast were in the middle of a vicious battle on the desert sand, it was nearly twice her size and twice as strong, but it couldn't get its mace to land a single blow under the night sky. Fewn seemed more natural in her fighting than she did in her normal life. Like Lilaci, she had been trained her whole life in the ways of fighting. Yet, she was certainly not the same young girl from Sorock anymore. Fewn has grown to be a true warrior.
While their fight raged on, Lilaci could feel herself gaining distance between herself and the slithering serpents that followed her every footstep. She continued her sprint as she searched her mind again for that elusive feeling— the feeling of immense power, encircled by the violet light of the Sanzoral. It’s there, it’s just buried deep, it's yours for the taking, it's under your control. You just need to embrace it, you can do this. Reach out and take it. Then she felt it—its warmth, its loyalty, its power. Then, like a lightning strike it was there. Like hungry fingers reaching for bread, she gripped it in her mind. There it is! I’ve got it!
She halted her sprint and turned to face the snakes, arms outstretched, and her sword at her side. The snakes leapt into the air, their mouths agape, and their fangs long and dripping with venom. Lilaci reached down towards the sand at her feet, and with a great yell, lifted her arms up into the air. Just as the snakes were about to sink their fangs into her, a roaring wall of sand shot up directly before them. It was a violent burst that shot the snakes writhing up into the air, helplessly wriggling. Lilaci’s blade found its way into the rushing sands, and sliced easily through the slick flesh of the serpents. Her sword slashed and flew through the sand like a hot knife through butter, and the snake’s heads were cut from their soft, slick bodies. They hissed and bit at anything their fangs could find, but they found nothing but the course grit of sand.
Lilaci took her blade down, and as she did so, the magic of the Sanzoral faded. With its light extinguished, the sands poured down back to the ground, followed by snake blood, with the decapitated bodies of coiling snakes all around her. She wiped the blood from her blade, and looked to the other battle that was raging on. “Fewn!”
Chapter Thirty
The fur-covered beast stood two full heads taller than Fewn and laid heavy blow after blow onto her sword. Lilaci watched as Fewn managed to parry with the monster as it snarled and grunted lowly, spit flying from its mouth as it fought with a savage ferocity. Lilaci ran, still breathing heavily from sprinting for the last twenty minutes from the dozens of black snakes, now dead on the sands behind her.
Lilaci was soon almost upon the beast, a monster that resembled a sandwolf, but with the stature of a tall, powerful man. The monster saw her approaching and heaved a broad arc of its mace at her, pushing her back slightly, and the monster fought wildly in both directions. It began to panic, and grunted wildly as it shot out at both the women. Fewn, while it was attacking Lilaci, stuck her sword into its thigh from behind, and it let out a roaring snarl, its bleak eyes staring bitterly at her. It was fuming in anger, its wicked, yellow teeth grinding on each other. Lilaci noticed something then— as she continued fighting the beast— it looked back away from Fewn, and over its shoulder— to the east, in the darkness. She looked over in that direction, but her human eyes didn’t make out anything. It was as if he was checking for someone, or something to come to its aid.
In its fury, the monster swung heavily with its mace at Fewn, and Lilaci instinctively found an opening in the monster’s defense. She thrust her sword into its side, lodging it between two of its ribs. The monster’s eyes shot at her, and it roared menacingly, spit flying from its maw, she could feel its hot breath on her. It grabbed the sword by the blade and pulled it from its side, blood rolling down the blade from its grasp. Lilaci was slightly surprised by this, and found herself in the path of the mace. In the monster’s other hand, he swung the mace at her, ready to lodge itself in her left ear, crushing her head. Her sword was still in the monster’s other bloody hand, lodged in his ribcage.
In desperation, Lilaci ducked her head as low as she could, hoping she’d moved in time, and just as she could feel the air rush down on her from the mace’s arc, she looked up as the tip of a sword came out of the sandwolf’s chest. Its dark eyes turned sullen, and its mouth— full of sharp, yellow teeth— turned down, and began to quiver slightly. It dropped to its knees with a dull thud, and the mace and sword fell from its hands. The sword’s tip disappeared back out of its chest, and the monster fell to the rocky sands, chest-first, and a small plume of sand shot up into the air.
Behind the body of the fallen beast stood Fewn, with her sword at her side, dripping wet with the monster’s dark blood. Lilaci expected a smile, or grin on her face from the kill, but she saw nothing but the look of a trained soldier, focused and— hungry— for battle. There was nothing more rewarding, and honoring of their way, than the kill. It was the basis of what their training in Sorock was all about. That is the Fewn I knew. I’m almost . . . proud.
“Well done,” Lilaci said. “A clean kill.”
Fewn nodded, wiped clean, and sheathed her sword in a dull flicker of light.
Lilaci looked over back towards where the beast had glanced in its moment of need. Fewn walked over to her side and gazed in the same direction.
“Did you see that as well?” Lilaci said. “The way he looked over there?”
Fewn nodded.
They both, in near unison, began to run off east, in the direction of where the monster had looked for what seemed like help. They were running in near dark, as the moon was covered by thick clouds that had crep
t in while they were being attacked by the seemingly planned murder of Lilaci. Someone planned that whole attack. They waited until I was alone, and they must have sensed my vulnerability at that moment. Someone, or something, is following me. There’s something mysterious happening here. There’s something about those snakes— all working in unison together like that. There’s something unnatural going on. I have a feeling whatever we run into in the dark is going to give me an answer— one I may not like.
Together they ran, side by side, both their swords drawn then. A sudden crack of lightning shot down before them in the distance, and the clouds continued to roll in. Heavy drops of rain began to patter on the sands by their feet.
“Did you see that?” Lilaci said, and strong winds began to blow.
“Yes—” Fewn said, as they ran. “Three of them.”
Before them, fifty yards out, the lightning illuminated the silhouettes of three figures with black cloaks and long, flowing capes.
“You know what they are?” Fewn asked.
“Not yet, but we’re about to find out.”
Lightning struck again, to the side, and shown the figures as they were growing closer, Lilaci said each of them had a long staff, each of them flickering with a dull green glow. Thunder boomed and crackled from the sky, and the rains fell down harder on them.
“Mages?” Fewn asked.
“Perhaps,” Lilaci said. “We’re going to need to take them down quickly.”
“I’d love nothing more,” Fewn said.
Before them, as the black-cloaked figures came more into view and their staffs glowed brighter, Lilaci began to hear that they were chanting in a slow, foreign-sounding tone. There’s little more I detest in this world than mages, and little more I enjoy killing. “You flank to the right,” she said to Fewn.
“Where are you going?” Fewn responded.
“Straight up the middle.”
As Fewn shot off to the side, Lilaci felt her limbs began to grow heavier, her legs began to slow. It was as if she were in a dream, running as hard as she could, yet only making it forward inches at a time. She looked down to see green-glowing hands coming up from the sands and grabbing at her legs and ankles. They wrapped around her like quicksand. Mustering all her strength she ran through most of the transparent hands, but they were many before her, and eventually she slowed to a crawl.
“Argh!” she yelled out in frustration, as she fought to remove herself from the paralysis. “Damn mages! Come and fight me!”
One of the hooded figures approached, front and center in before her. Its eyes glowed a bright, unworldly green, as it pulled down its hood revealing dark skin, almost black, and he had a long blond beard. His head was bald and smooth, and his eyes were piercing.
“Reevins,” Lilaci muttered. They’re already after me again? Are they that thirsty for my new power, the Sanzoral? Well— I’ll give them a taste.
The pattering rain on her head seemed to help calm her mind, even in the rushing storm. She found it easier to focus, and reach out to that spot of her mind that housed her connection with the sands. As the raindrops fell on her head, she felt the wetness of the sand. It was like a magnet in her mind, once the two were connected, they sort of snapped together. She had it then. The Sanzoral was in her mind, and she felt it in her fingertips.
As the center figure appeared before her, she saw the flash of a long, curved dagger, reflecting the green glow from the staff. The two Reevins behind continued to chant, and she saw over his shoulder that Fewn was fighting through the same spell as she, as a hundred hands gripped to her from the ground. She hadn’t sensed it on herself, but watching Fewn, the hands had begun to pull her entirely towards the ground. Fewn was nearly flat on her chest, fighting with her arms and hands against the heavy weight of the Reevin’s magic.
Lilaci found a rage in her then that bound her to the Sanzoral, and just as the lead Reevin approached with its curved dagger eager to cut into her— the Reevin smiled, its sharp teeth had a reddish tint, and it spoke, “For the hunger we feel, we feed on your pure essence.” Its voice hissed like that of a snake. “We feel great power in you, you will end our hunger for one hundred years.”
“You won’t make it through the night,” Lilaci said, and brought up all the sand she could muster from the surrounding area, and sent it up into the air above the Reevin, who hissed in surprise. It stopped high in the air above his head for just a moment, then she sent it then down onto the Reevin’s head, crushing it under its rushing force and weight. She could feel his bones crack and snap as its body was completely crushed under the force of the sand.
She was still stuck to the ground herself, as the other two Reevins continued chanting. Fewn was then fully on the ground, helplessly squirming to remove herself from the spell. One of the Reevins began to walk towards Fewn, a fresh curved blade pulled from behind his back. It walked faster than the first did. Evidently they felt more urgency then, watching their first killed by her Sanzoral. As the Reevin hastily approached Fewn, ready to stick it into her. Lilaci let out another burst of power, and sent the sands rushing through the air around them, like the most intense sandstorm she’d ever felt. The sands whooshed around them in a massive spiral, and blew forcefully underneath Lilaci and Fewn, blowing the green, gripping hands away in a gust of greenish mist. She rose to her feet completely, free from the Reevin’s magic. Fewn did the same, with her sword ready in her hand— she didn’t hesitate.
She burst forth and sliced into the Reevin’s throat before he could even attempt to block with his dagger. The Reevin fell, hissing and coughing up blood. She ran at the last Reevin, who put up a hand, and a green glow slithered up from the sand and another dozen black snakes with thin red stripes emerged before her. Fewn took a step back as the snakes hissed at her, showing their long fangs.
“You will not strike this Reevin down,” it hissed.
“Watch me,” Lilaci said, and she shot at him like an eagle swooping down on a rat. She lunged and leapt through the air, her sword up above her head, pointing down towards the mage. The Reevin put up his arms, as he was completely caught off-guard by her ferocity. As she came down she thrust her sword down through his forearms and into the middle of his skull.
With all three Reevins, the sandwolf creature and the snakes dead, Lilaci went over to Fewn, and she gave her a look a respect, and she nodded in approval. “Well fought,” Lilaci said.
“Not so bad yourself,” Fewn responded.
Lilaci lifted her arm, with her hand open before her. Fewn reached out and gripped Lilaci’s forearm. That was the first time either of them had shown the other the respect of a fellow soldier, and not an adversary. Perhaps there is something to this new Fewn. Maybe we could be friends after all. At least comrades.
Then, they went and searched the bodies, finding little of use— a few potions of unknown nature, bits of moldy food, and some dirty water. They broke their staffs, and buried the daggers.
They strode back into the makeshift camp that Foro had made, under the pale moon. Foro sat by the fire, half-asleep and as he saw Lilaci approach, he slowly sat up, his blanket rolling down from his chest. He stretched his arms out wide.
“You two have fun on your—?” His eyes shot open wide as he saw the blood on their clothes and he jumped to his feet. “What in the name of the gods did you do?”
Lilaci looked over at Fewn, cuts and bruises on her arms and legs. She then looked down to see her own cuts, and her clothes were spattered with fresh blood. Honestly, we’re lucky to walk away from the battle at all. Let alone with only minor scrapes.
Foro grabbed his sword from next to him, eying the dark behind them.
“Don’t worry,” Fewn said as she went and laid next to the fire, and placed her hands back behind her neck. “Nothing we couldn’t handle together.”
“What?” Foro asked.
“There were more of those Reevins,” Lilaci said. “Three this time.”
“Three?” Foro said, it was the second
time she saw him truly worried, the first being when his friend was badly injured in the first fight with the Reevin sorcerer. That’s two times we’ve survived their attacks. We’ll need to be ready for something even more deadly next time. “They must be serious about getting your power if they’re coming this far north— this quickly.”
“They said they could sense my Sanzoral, and if they fed on it, they’d be satisfied for a century,” Lilaci said.
“How many Reevins are there?” Fewn asked, slight worry in her voice, although she attempted to hide it. “I mean, how many more could come for us Foro?”
“I’m no expert,” he said. “I’ve only heard tales. I can’t imagine there’d be many more after us now, I can’t picture there being a hundred of those horrid men. All I know is that they live in the south by the sea, and that they generally hibernate until its time to feed, but they are solitary hunters, usually. They lure their prey in with visions of water, or gold. It’s troublesome they came in a pack this time.”
“They brought other weapons with them too,” Fewn said. “A tall creature covered in fur that stood like a man, but twice as strong, and twice as fast. And snakes.”
Foro rubbed his forehead agitated. “This is all worrisome. I’m used to being the hunter, not the hunted. I fear they're not going to stop until they have you, Lilaci, and I’m not much use against magic.”
“As long as Lilaci’s alive,” Fewn said, “they don’t stand a chance against us. Isn’t that right?”
“— I think it’d be wisest if we find this girl, and quickly,” Lilaci said. “The sooner we get her to the gods the better. I also don’t like the feeling of being hunted.”
“Should we send word to the commander for reinforcements?” Fewn said.
“Sure,” Foro said. “You have a magic bird that speaks in our tongue?”
Fewn’s expression turned sour. “I mean, is there any way to send a message. I don’t know— how do you usually communicate with the cities when you’re in trouble?”