“I think you’ll find this exchange a simple one,” Alidyr began.
“I don't give a shit,” Asher interrupted. “I didn't come up here to barter words. I came here to end you…” The ranger unclipped his green cloak and shrugged it off.
Alidyr’s smug expression fell into a sneer. “As you wish.” The elf kicked Nathaniel over the edge and came at Asher with his diamond-tipped blade.
“Asher!” the knight yelled as he went over the side.
The ranger made the mistake of watching Nathaniel instead of Alidyr, a prime example Nasta Nal-Aket would have used to explain why friends were nothing but a weakness. Asher took a pommel to the face, his eyes always on Nathaniel, as he watched the knight grip the damp stone at the last moment. Asher moved with the knock to his face and rolled away, relieved to see Nathaniel hanging on by his fingers.
Alidyr paced between him and dangling knight. “I suppose this was always going to end with your death, Ranger. There’s really no way around it. You possess that which my master desires, and he would uproot mountains to have it.”
Asher had no reply. After years of fighting, it was the only way he knew how to really communicate. There was no amount of domestication that would ever change that. The ranger bolted at the elf with a high attack, jumping at the last second to bring his silvyr blade down on Alidyr’s head. The silvyr was met with tough resistance but Asher had the advantage of a second blade. He brought the enchanted sword up with a swing that would cut the elf open from waist to shoulder, only to find air in the place of his foe.
“Predictable.” Alidyr thrust his boot square into Asher’s chest, sending the ranger into a tumble across the platform.
Without his cloak, there was nothing to become tangled up in, leaving the ranger free to snap back up and raise his guard. Alidyr should have been on top of him, pressing the advantage but, instead, the elf remained firmly in place. He’s playing with me, Asher thought.
“Look around.” Alidyr held his hands up. “There’s no help coming this time. No caverns to bring down on my head, no stars falling from the sky, no elves…” Alidyr eyed the pouch secured to Asher’s waist. “And no magic to offer aid.” Asher wanted to respond but his silence was telling. “I thought so.” The elf smiled. “I thought it odd that you would possess something so powerful and continue to swing a sword.”
“You don't know anything,” Asher replied, ready to spring.
“I know it’s too much for any man to wield. It offers you protection, but it would consume you to use it. There is only one way a being as pathetic as you could master Paldora’s gem, but my lips are sealed…”
Asher grated one blade against the other. “Don't worry, by the time I'm finished with you, you’ll be spilling everything.”
The two came together in a collision of enchanted blades and sparks. Asher ducked, weaved, and evaded the strong, elven limbs that sought to break him. Alidyr was fast, his single blade seemingly doing the job of two, both parrying and attacking the ranger. Asher dropped down low and extended his enchanted short-sword, catching the elf on the top of his thigh. Alidyr groaned in pain but still managed to take advantage of the ranger’s awkward crouch. The kick to his ribs hurt almost as much as his back after being thrown into the wall of the rampart.
Asher got to his feet as quickly as he could, doing his best to ignore the pain and the wheeze in his chest. Alidyr came in with a thrusting attack designed to disorientate any foe, his arm extending and retracting with the sway of his shoulders. The ranger anticipated the final position of the blade and batted it away with silvyr. His counter-attack was blunt but effective, driving the crystal pommel of the enchanted blade into Alidyr’s face. The blow knocked the elf back with blood trickling from above his eye.
“Come on!” Asher yelled, shaking his head and shoulders to ready himself.
Alidyr wiped the blood from his eye and fixed the ranger with a venomous glare. The two clashed again, their swords ringing out across the wall. The elf scored more than one cut, but none could put Asher down, though a sweeping strike above his right hip had the ranger stumbling away. The enchanted blade sliced right through his leather and chainmail as if it weren't even there. His leg began to feel wet from another wound that leaked his insides over the king’s platform.
Beyond Alidyr, Asher could see the top of Nathaniel’s head poking over the rampart. The knight was trying to climb back up, but his exhaustion was clear to see. The ranger decided he didn't have long to beat the elf and pull his friend to safety. It was this kind of thinking that Nightfall had spent decades trying to beat out of him. Seeing his friend struggling now, it was all for naught. Asher gave in to his emotions, lunging at Alidyr without a plan of attack, hoping to beat him as quickly as possible.
Their blades met briefly in a flurry of elven techniques, each landing wounds that were only inches from taking the other’s life. Asher dropped to one knee, feigning more pain than he felt, while parrying Alidyr’s blade with its twin. The silvyr short-sword now had a clear path into the elf’s exposed abdomen. The ranger thrust his weapon upwards and pierced his enemy’s stomach. The blade would have sunk all the way through had Alidyr not whipped his free hand out and gripped the silvyr, drawing blood from his fingers and thumb. The tip of the short-sword was hidden within the elf and for all his strength, Asher couldn't push it any further. Both were red in the face under the push and pull, blood dripping onto the stone between them.
“This… is for Elaith!” Asher roared, using his rage to try and drive the blade home.
Alidyr’s grip was that of a vice, however, and the blade didn't budge. “I don't even know who that is,” he replied through gritted teeth. The elf swung his short-sword around, taking Asher’s parrying blade with it, and crossed both over the silvyr piercing his side. The motion sent both of the ranger’s blades flying across the rampart in a clatter.
Asher was on his knees now, weaponless and at the mercy of a back-handed slash that would decapitate him. The ranger hadn't gone through hell all of his life to die on his knees. His right hand shot up and intercepted Alidyr’s back-handed swipe at the wrist. A simple fist to the elbow had the elf relinquishing his grip on the diamond-tipped sword. Asher let go of the wrist and caught the hilt mid-fall. Instead of bringing the blade up, a form of attack Alidyr had already proven ineffective, the ranger pushed down and chopped through the toes of the elf’s left foot.
Alidyr screamed and stumbled back, leaving half of his foot behind. Asher had no intention of giving the worthless snake a moment to collect himself and he jumped up, sword swinging. The elf was clearly in pain, but it didn't stop him evading every swipe until eventually he side-stepped and caught Asher’s arm over his shoulder. A hand with the power of a hammer struck the ranger in the joint where his shoulder met his arm. It was enough to have him drop the blade, leaving both of them with nothing but their fists. Alidyr used his elbow, however, and lifted it into Asher’s face, a blow that should have knocked him back and off his feet, but the elf still had a hold of Asher’s arm, which rested over his shoulder. Alidyr pulled him in for a back-handed fist and finished with a punch to his back.
Once again, Asher found himself thrown to the ground and into the wall of the rampart. Had it not been for the leather and chainmail, he was sure that fist to his back would have snapped his spine. The ranger crawled to his feet again, only this time his right arm was numb in places and he could taste blood in his mouth.
“When will you learn?” Alidyr asked through laboured breath. “You cannot beat me as an ant cannot beat the fall of a boot.”
Asher was barely listening to him anymore, his attention on Nathaniel, who had managed to get an elbow on the rampart. The ranger had to give his all; the lives of those he had come to care for demanded it. Before even straightening his back, Asher launched himself at Alidyr, hoping to take them both into a tumble that might see him come out on top, but the elf proved the stronger. Alidyr staggered back a single step and drove his knee into the
ranger’s stomach, a blow that knocked the air from his lungs.
The next thing he knew, Alidyr had his thumbs pressed against his eyelids.
Asher immediately wrapped his hands around the elf’s wrists, but his effort to prise them off was for nothing. Alidyr pushed his thumbs until blood ran over his hands. The sounds that left the ranger’s mouth told of his excruciating agony, but there were no words to describe it. Nathaniel called his name but Asher was only aware of pain; everything else quickly became a distant memory.
When the thumbs were pulled free, Asher felt the stonework under his knees rise up to meet him. Covering his eyes with his hands did nothing to settle the pain and even less to bring back his sight. With his consciousness trapped inside his mind, its window to the outside world gone forever, the ranger’s senses came alive. There was no colour to the world, but the beating heart of reality pulsed through his mind, building a perfect picture of his surroundings.
The blood rushing from Alidyr’s foot was a torrent beside his head, as the elf circled him. The beat of his heart was stronger than Nathaniel’s, slower too. The smell of sweat dripping down the knight’s face was mixed with the metallic aroma of blood which rose from the battle below. As the ranger’s fingers ran over the stone, he could feel every groove and imperfection. The light of dawn brought with it the heat of a rising sun, a tangible feeling to Asher, who was sure he could reach out and touch the warmth.
The first sound to scratch at his ears, however, was that of the black gem which scraped across the stone beneath him. The ranger could feel it pressed between him and the floor, its call impossible to ignore.
There was only one way to beat Alidyr, and it wasn't through combat.
Asher found his feet and retrieved Paldora’s gem. The pain behind his eyes was so intense that he gripped the gem until his fingers bled. The power of the black crystal pulsed through his hand.
Alidyr laughed. “What are you going to do with that? Go ahead, use it. I’ll take it from your dead fingers after it’s done with you.”
Asher took a breath and held out his hand. Tapping into the gem wasn't easy, it demanded a hold over his life. The ranger gave into it willingly this time, happy to die taking Alidyr with him. The elf’s laughter came to a bitter stop and Asher smiled. He knew exactly what he wanted to do to the head of the Hand.
“What are you…” Alidyr’s words became garbled and his hands gripped his chest. “Impossible…” he hissed.
Asher clawed his fingers and the elf dropped to his knees, accompanied by the sound of breaking bone. He yelled out but his cracking bones filled Asher’s ears. Alidyr attempted to move forward, only to find himself pushed back, to the front of the outer wall. More bones shattered and his limbs now rested at awkward angles, his hands clenched into muscle-tearing balls.
The ranger could see everything as if the elf had transparent skin. He could feel the bones snap and the surrounding vessels bleed out, bruising the skin. Alidyr wasn't the only one bleeding out. Asher tasted more blood dripping from his own nose, and his ears tickled from the blood seeping over his lobes and down his neck. Every breath leaving his lungs became shallower and the veins on the back of his hand snaked through his pale skin like worms. Asher knew it was impossible to feel one’s own life force, their soul as it were, but now, in the grips of Paldora’s gem, he could feel himself being drawn from the world, a wraith torn from his body.
Still, he squeezed.
Alidyr’s body slowly closed in on itself, his arms and legs visibly shorter, his joints were nothing but a mess of shattered bone and cartilage. Under such constriction, the elf had lost the ability to scream or fight back in any way.
As the magic coursed through his body, Asher could feel it pulling, tearing at Alidyr’s own source of magic, as if he were robbing the elf. The gem gave him strength, but it also gave him the strength of any source of magic nearby. This balance was finite, however, with every inch taken from Alidyr draining the ranger of his life. It was a price he was willing to pay to kill the wretch.
“Asher!” Nathaniel might as well have been calling him from the moon. The ranger couldn't focus on anything but the blood coursing through his ears.
Alidyr’s golden eyes were surrounded by bright, red veins, though to Asher they were nothing but bursting vessels. When there was nothing left but a broken husk and Alidyr could only blink, the ranger lowered his hand and released the elf from his magical hold. His acute senses knew exactly where the diamond-tipped short-sword was on the bloody platform, its enchanted hum vibrating against his skin. Asher held out his hand and the blade flew into his grip.
His feet were rooted to the spot and it took all his will to take that first step toward Alidyr. The elf could do nothing but stare at him, a silhouette against the pink dawn.
“I said…” Asher’s voice was hollow and croaky, “I would give this back to you. I’m a man of my word…” The ranger drove the diamond-tipped blade into Alidyr’s chest and didn't stop until the bloodied hilt met his sternum. The elf’s eyes bulged and he moaned, unable to utter a single syllable.
Asher felt the energy building inside of Alidyr before it shone through his wounds. The gold of his eyes was quickly replaced by a white light that the ranger could only perceive as warmth. His moaning took on an other-worldly tone and became a roar. The first blast wave was only a second away when Nathaniel’s arms wrapped around Asher’s waist and the two went flying down the steps and off the king’s platform. The blast swept over them, pushing them further down the battlements, but the sound of cracking stone found Asher’s ears. It came from deep inside the walls around the main gates.
“Cover your eyes!” Asher warned the knight.
The dying throes of Alidyr was a silent implosion followed swiftly by a deafening explosion. The magnitude of the explosion blew the remains of the gates, the surrounding stone, and the king’s platform high into the air. Nathaniel’s rough hands gripped Asher by the collar and dragged him down the wall in a bid to escape the falling debris. All that remained was a gaping hole in Velia’s defensive wall, a gap big enough to fit a hundred men abreast. Nathaniel was shouting something to him, but Asher couldn't register a single word, his mind focused on a single thought.
Alidyr was dead…
44
A glimpse of eternity
As soon as her feet touched the ground, Reyna made for the south wall, praying to the gods that she could get back up to Nathaniel before Samandriel Zathya killed him. That was when Faylen’s forearm pinned her to the wall of the Buck Inn.
“Let me go!” the princess protested.
“I'm sorry, Reyna.” Faylen had tears in her eyes. “You’re the only one who has any chance of stopping what happens next.”
“Nathaniel dies, that’s what happens next!” Reyna countered.
Ezeric and Nalmar landed further down the street and intercepted a group of Namdhorian knights. Their scimitars danced about the men from the north until their numbers were reduced to a single man, who promptly turned about and ran in the other direction. Nalmar cast a fireball that caught the man in the back of the head, killing him before he hit the ground.
Faylen applied more force, keeping Reyna pinned. “Everyone dies if our kin enters this city. Think, Reyna! The only thing that might stop your father from laying waste to Velia is if he thinks you’re in the middle of it. He needs to know that you’re here.”
“You overestimate our king’s love for me,” Reyna replied.
“No,” Faylen argued. “He’s a father, that’s all that matters. He’ll see that before the end,” she whispered.
Reyna couldn't think straight. The sound of battle and death was disorientating, but knowing that Nathaniel had been left to fight for his life, alone, prevented the princess from focusing. Faylen removed her arm from Reyna’s chest as tears ran from the princess’ eyes.
Her mentor gently wiped the tears away with her thumb. “I'm sorry this falls to you. I would take it from you if I could. But only
you can stand between Illian and Ayda…”
Reyna blinked hard and cleared her vision of tears. The princess knew that Faylen would gladly give her life to save her; that was what Faylen did, the right thing. It was a responsibility she had pressed upon Reyna from a young age, though she’d never imagined the magnitude of her responsibilities.
“He’s resourceful,” Faylen added. “Nathaniel’s survived more than an encounter with one of the Hand. He’s a fighter. You will see him again.”
Ezeric and Nalmar halted another group of knights in their tracks, bringing Reyna back to the dire situation all of Velia was in. They needed to act, now.
“Get me to the docks,” she told them.
The din of battle died away the further east they travelled. The streets were still packed with citizens of several towns and cities, all desperate to stay as far away from the western wall as possible. Everywhere she looked, Reyna saw the faces of terrified men, women, and children. Death was coming for them and they knew it.
They weren't her people, yet Reyna saw them for what they were; people. Unlike many of her kin, the princess could only see what they had in common, what united them. Human or elf, both lived for their loved ones, to protect, provide, and enjoy what time they had together.
How was she going to convince her father of this?
Beyond the palace, the eastern gates were being opened by Velian soldiers, while another group kept the mob at bay. Most wanted to flee, either by ship or simply running down the beach until the Darkakin were a horrible memory. The Velian soldiers formed a semi-circle around the gates, allowing just enough room for King Rengar and his personal entourage to pass through.
Relic of the Gods: (Echoes of Fate Book 3) Page 37