The Obsidian Arrow

by Craig A. Price Jr.

  “Is anybody out there?” Searon called.

  Anaela grabbed tighter to Searon’s chest in fright. Laughter echoed through the forest, scaring Stripes into dropping the two of them on the ground as the stallion reared backward in fright. Searon got to his feet and tried to steady his longtime friend, but he galloped away despite the warrior’s touch. The stallion didn’t make it far before a knife soared through the thick air and into the animal’s neck. With a great screech, the horse tumbled to the ground.

  Searon, horror-struck, ran forward to drape his arms around his companion. Stripes snorted a couple of times before his breath came no more. Anaela rushed to his side to comfort him, making him able to hold his tears from his watering eyes. He had grown fond of the animal after so many years and figured the day would come when he would have to find another horse, but it wasn’t supposed to end like this. Chilling snickers continued to echo through the calm forest.

  From the shadows of the forest surrounding them appeared thirty draeyks with axes gripped tight. Before Searon could unsheathe his claymore, the party of creatures rushed at them in a frenzy. Anaela already had her bow and quiver at the ready, loosing arrows from behind Searon. One in three formed into ice as they soared through the air to meet their targets. Her aim struck true, and before any draeyks reached Searon, four fell dead and two froze. As they neared, Anaela slipped her bow over her shoulder, unsheathing her short sword from its scabbard to defend herself.

  Searon respected Anaela as an archer more than anyone else he had ever known. It was a shame they had been caught unaware and weren’t able to get into a proper fighting position. Had he chosen where they fought, he would have had her secured in a tree or a high building, where she could loose arrows at will as he did the close-quarter fighting. He knew together with such tactics, they would have been able to make short work of these creatures. However, with twenty-two of the creatures rushing at them as Searon and Anaela fought with blades, their options were limited.

  The wood kheshlar backed away to the warrior until their backs touched in order to fight each side. They circled, keeping pace and rhythm with each other as they parried the many blows of axes falling upon them. Even though the creatures outnumbered them, Searon and Anaela kept their own with poise. Each slash coming at them was easily deflected and met with a flurry of offensive strikes. They moved their weapons well together, complementing each other’s attacks and sharing more than one kill. Anaela would twist an axe so it reared backward at the creature before she continued turning in a circle, leaving an opening for Searon when he met the foe, removing the lizard’s head.

  A dozen more fell around them before the draeyks became smarter about their attacks. Soon Searon and Anaela found themselves hurt by a flow of axes striking simultaneously. Searon’s arms became battered and bruised from the strikes. A few deep wounds throbbed with each movement. His claymore burned with such a high intensity of crimson, appearing hot to the touch as it burned scales of flesh from the creatures. Anaela watched in horror as Searon’s eyes seemed to transform from green to red, ablaze with a fiery hue containing all of his hate and anger for the lizards.

  They fought on, still in perfect timing with each other, but Searon’s attacks were so fierce, no longer were there any creatures who dared sneak behind them. Instead all rushed the two of them from the front. Side by side they bashed them away. Her attacks had finesse, while his seemed nearly savage.

  After only a few minutes of his bloodlust, an ability he hadn’t known he had, all of the creatures lay dead around him. His attacks were nearly triple his normal speed, even surpassing the kheshlar Anaela’s speed with a blade. While he was able to attack stronger and faster, his strikes weren’t as careful and considered as before, making his arms a bloody mess. Cuts, scrapes, gashes, and tears scattered his arms where he had been hit hard enough to puncture or points of their blades made it between his plate mail. Blood dripped on his gauntlets as he removed them. The blood covered his hands in their entirety.

  His breathing slowed, and yet he still kept his fists clenched around his weapon as he stepped forward to scout the area. Two dozen more creatures rushed out of the forest in front of them, and Searon proceeded to meet them head-on. He continued to pulse crimson over his entire body, including his weapon, and his eyes still blazed with fire. Anaela took a step back, face stricken, afraid of the unending force and terrified of what Searon had become. She hadn’t realized the extent of magic—faerie magic—running through his veins. He claimed he technically wasn’t part faerie, but the blood had been given to his mother during her pregnancy with him, and so certain abilities must have transferred over. The wood kheshlar knew he could see and hear exceptionally well, and now it seemed he had a hidden ability of bloodlust fury coming out … Why? Did it come out because of how outnumbered they were, or had it been because of her? Had his feelings for her and need to protect her brought forth the ability, or was it simpler than that?

  Anaela removed her bow and grabbed an obsidian arrow from her never-ending supply of thirty-five. To her astonishment, the enchantment the faeries put on her worked. As soon as one of her arrows hit home, another would appear in her quiver. It seemed to be a new arrow every time, as the one she shot would stay inside the corpse, shattered inside the flesh and unusable. Obsidian arrows seemed more effective on the creatures than the steel arrows of the kheshlars and the stone arrows of the humans. If she took aim for a weak spot between the scales, it would penetrate between, shattering as it did, yet a good fraction of the arrow would still make it into flesh. With steel and stone arrows, unless it was a perfect shot where it could fit, it would bounce away if the gap was too small, rather than shattering to a smaller arrow and piercing.

  Before the two dozen reached Searon, she shot ten to the ground. Searon appeared amazed at the sight of her arrows, but paid them little heed as the creatures met him in battle. He fought gallantly, striking down several in a matter of seconds, pressing forward and trying not to flinch as arrows soared to each side of his face as he battled.

  Anaela jogged to him after she pierced the final creature who battled him. She put her arm on his shoulder. He recoiled and raised his blade up as he glared at her, panting and cursing the name of draeyks under his breath.

  “Searon … it’s me. Please, Searon. It’s all right, it’s only me … Anaela.”

  He relaxed visibly, sheathing his weapon before clasping his arms around her. She hugged him tight. His body heat cooled, and the crimson hue began to fade. He touched his bare hand to her face; it was still bloody, but she didn’t seem to mind as it streaked her face. He leaned into her and she trembled, weakening at the knees to embrace his touch.

  He heard subtle footsteps. Laughter followed the footsteps. Arria appeared from the shadows with a smirking young boy at her heels. Her snow-white hair cascaded over her shoulders, where it ended in curls. An aura of confidence surrounded her, unnerving Searon.

  “It seems you can’t do anything right, Searon. You have failed your friends and left them to a city of destruction.” Arria laughed.

  “I have not left them.”

  “And yet … you are here, with her. Tell me, Searon, what is it that you are doing with this wood kheshlar? Are the two of you running away from the high kheshlars in order to have a forbidden love affair?”

  Searon took a step backward to hold onto Anaela tightly. She clutched his hand tightly. The warmth was inviting, but the knowledge Arria had disturbed him.

  “Ah yes, is that surprise on your face? Do not think that I have not been watching you. How cute it is that the two of you have finally given in to each other. Anaela, what do you think the high kheshlars will do to you once they find out? It is forbidden beyond any explanation.”

  “I am no high kheshlar,” Anaela whispered.

  “Ah, yes. I am well aware of who you are. I still remember the taste of your sister’s blood. Does it hurt you to hear how your kin died? I was there, although you caught me by surprise when
I took the last breath of your sister.”

  Anaela’s eyes bulged, her grip tightening on Searon’s shoulder, making him cringe in slight pain, although he spoke no words to her.

  “Oh, I see. You do not remember that fateful day, do you? In fact, with the blow to the head I gave you, there is little you probably do remember. She fought well, your sister, before I stole her life. The rest of your kin were weak, even the three I captured. They could not survive my tortures.” Arria smirked.

  Searon pulled out his claymore, taking a pace forward to point it toward Arria. “This ends now, dark kheshlar.”

  “Be careful with that blade, young warrior. You might hit somebody important to you. Do you even remember who is important to you?” Arria grinned as she took a step back. “How can you love this wood kheshlar, Searon? Shouldn’t you love another, an undying love that you promised? Or did you forget about such human vows when you caught sight of this new prize by your side? Well, your beloved hasn’t forgotten about you.”

  Searon took a cautious step backward, bewildered by the woman’s words. His past began to sneak up on him. All of his sad memories of his lost family came charging back at him. So many of those memories he didn’t wish to remember anymore. They used to keep him awake at night for many years. He used to keep count of how many days it had been since his loss. All of his hate and rage pulsed through him like a volcano as he stared at her.

  “Don’t you talk about them.”

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk—it is not I who you need worry about, foolish one.”

  Suddenly, from the darkness, another shape appeared, sashaying toward them, giggling in a soft low voice. The shape resembled a woman as it walked out of the darkness, and she cradled something in her arms, a young babe, probably only a few weeks old with long white hair. They were black skinned with white hair, matching Arria. But this woman’s face appeared so familiar.

  Searon felt drawn in. He took a step closer to gaze in disbelief at the woman. Her skin was dark like a soft coal, a mix between dark black and grey, making her match Arria as a dead kheshlar. Something about her features unnerved him: rounded ears, softness to her lips, rosiness to her cheeks, and chocolate eyes he could not deny.

  “Victoria?” Searon whispered.

  She took a step toward him, reaching out, but soon stopped herself, instead choosing to glare at him intensely. “How dare you betray my love! Who is this woman who you seem so affectionate for? I am supposed to be your one and only. And yet, as soon as I’m gone, what do you do? Grab onto the first broad you can get your greedy paws on.”

  Searon’s heart throbbed, tears streaked his face, and his body shook uncontrollably. He walked to her, deaf to the screams of objection from Anaela by his side. Her grip on him wasn’t strong enough to stop his determination to see his first love; despite Victoria’s appearance, his feelings for her ran deep. Anaela finally received his attention. He stopped to glance at her with confusion.

  “Searon … don’t. It’s a trap. She isn’t the same person you once knew. Arria has changed her, please don’t go!”

  His strength returned again as he turned to glance at the woman who was once his wife, before her last breath was stolen by the draeyks so many years ago. As he was about to dismiss his former life, abandoning what could not be saved, another figure stepped forward from the shadows to stand beside Victoria. A young boy near the age of ten with dark skin, short white hair, and stitches all the way around his neck. He bore a striking resemblance to his mother beside him. Kellen, Searon’s son, and the other family member who had been brutally murdered that night. Searon lost control as he rushed forward to hug his family.

  Anaela stood back, watching in horror as Searon embraced Victoria and Kellen, tears cascading down his face, overjoyed at seeing the family he never thought he’d see again. She stood alone, watching helplessly as Arria sashayed toward her. She loosed obsidian arrows from her bow as swiftly as she could, but every one seemed easy to block for the undead kheshlar. Anaela watched in horror as she saw Victoria bring a dagger from her bosom while Searon hugged her and Kellen. He didn’t realize anything was amiss until the dagger penetrated his back. He fell to his knees, clutching for it in an area he could not reach. Anaela exhaled with relief when she saw his wound would not be fatal. He got to his feet, knocking Victoria and Kellen away as he rushed to Anaela.

  With all of her heart, Anaela wished Searon could reach her in time, but she knew in her mind it would be too late. She watched as Arria’s flamberge fell upon her. Something hard hit the top of her head. Before the darkness came to her, something strange happened … she remembered. She remembered everything that had been lost to her for so many years.

  Chapter 47

  Karceoles grimaced as he paced the walls of Sudegam, staring below into the ranks of draeyks and daerions who burned the wilderness below. Thousands upon thousands of them were scattered about, and although they did not have organization, it would not matter with the numbers they held. In the midst of them, a man on a black stallion could be seen, his horse neighing into the night, thrusting its front legs into the air. The man’s long black hair and beard swam with the wind, freckled with white, and his zylek reached high into the air as he rallied his creatures.

  Zergiel.

  Hatred and fear overcame Karceoles. He despised Zergiel. Karceoles glanced at all of the kheshlarn and human archers surrounding him. Sh’on stood near him, breath caught in his throat as he realized how outnumbered they were. Thousands of nacropi were entwined through the ranks, as well as pale-faced men whom necromancers had brought back without a soul.

  “These walls are wood, and they have fire. I do not know how long we can last before we are breached,” Karceoles said.

  “The walls are enchanted from ages past by druids. They will not easily burn,” Vil’ek said as he stepped over to the wizard’s side.

  “Good, that is at least something to buy us time,” Karceoles breathed. “And yet it will not save them.”

  “Where is Searon, why has he not returned?” Vil’ek asked.

  “If he is not here, it is because he ran into trouble. He would not abandon you,” Sh’on said.

  “Let us hope he did not run into them.” Vil’ek gestured toward the massive dark army.

  “He did not,” Karceoles said.

  “How do you know?” Sh’on asked.

  “I know Zergiel. If he had Searon, he would proudly display him bound to kill in front of us.”

  Sh’on gulped and nodded.

  Horns bellowed into the wind with an eerie low tune. Daerion horns had been cut from the dead and fitted to make a specific sound. The entire front row of daerions blew their horns into the wind. A line of draeyks stepped forward to blow into smaller black horns. A screeching echoed through the air, making most men clasp their ears. Karceoles recognized them as draeyk claws, most likely taken from their feet.

  The trunk of a large sequoia tree moved through the air atop draeyks and daerions alike. Vil’ek tensed as he mourned the death of the tree, and then flinched as he saw them running ahead toward the gate with it. Karceoles placed his hand on Vil’ek’s shoulder to relax him.

  A woman with raven hair and long pointed ears strode to the captain. “They are in range, milord.”

  Vil’ek nodded. “Loose at will.”

  She dipped her head and turned. “Loose!” she screamed into the wind.

  Arrows fluttered across the sky with as much harmony as a swarm of dragonflies. Many pierced the creatures holding the trunk, causing many to fall. Some lost balance and the tree nearly collapsed, but before it could, fresh bodies took the place of the dead or injured. They continued to come.

  “Loose!” she shouted again.

  Again arrows took to the sky and struck foes, but it wasn’t enough. Their aim struck true, but the numbers were too many. They did not slow at the death of their companions, but pushed forward even harder.

  “Loose at will!”

  Arrows no longer fell in harmony
with each other, but became chaotic. Sh’on began enchanting them with ice, causing many of their foes to slow in speed as they shivered. Karceoles dared not call fire because there was too much already below. The wilderness burned, animals fled, and draeyks and daerions alike laughed with joy.

  Sh’on called on his magic with the aid of Aliqua and her kheshlarn mages to cause a blizzard amongst the ranks of creatures, scaling nearly a league. Green and purple stained the sky in snow, hail, and sleet. Soon, all the sleet became hail, and Karceoles created an orange wind, which blew the hail skyward to collect more moisture, until the small pebble-sized hail became the size of boulders before they tumbled to the ground.

  Hail melted as it landed on fire, creating rivers to flow over the army and put out the fires of nature. The city’s walls became drenched, making it even more ineffective for the creatures who attempted to burn them. Instead, layers of thick smoke filled the air, creating coughing fits for kheshlars and men alike.

  The gate continued to be pounded with furious strength with the coordination of a colony of ants. Their numbers could rival an anthill, and when the gate broke, everybody knew they would swarm in like locusts. Wood splintered and shattered with each pound. It would only be a matter of time before it gave completely.

  “Scorpions!” a man shrieked.

  Karceoles turned from the gate to peer down the wall. He saw nearly a dozen nacropi crawling toward them. Ladders flew up next, cut carelessly from trees of the forest. Draeyks climbed one after another up the ladders.

  “They’re breaching the walls, stop them!” Vil’ek yelled.

  Archers turned their attention to the ladders and nacropi. Arrows bounced off the hard exoskeleton of the nacropi, but many struck true on draeyks, causing them to tumble to the ground.