by Aya Knight
“All right, Thomas, but do not over exert your magical abilities,” Kale cautioned in concern. “I do have one question before you go. Do you think Malakhar has learned the dark elven magic, Drell? Brig said he was only skilled with releasing powerful curses upon individuals, yet he deflected your magic so effortlessly. It seems suspicious.”
“Very perceptive of you, Kale. We must take great caution while facing such a foe. It’s been quite some time since you’ve encountered him, just as you have grown in power, he may have also—be careful, dear friend. I do not feel this attack is a random act of cruelty. My intuition tells me it was carefully planned.”
“I will utilize my training to its fullest tonight.” Kale gripped his sword with a grin. “You be safe too—old man.”
As Kale watched Thomas disappear into the darkness, the sound of pounding footsteps could be heard trampling over the clay entry street. Kale cursed himself for not thinking of a solid plan to delay or prevent entry into the town. He knew, however, there would have been no possibility for Neelan and Thomas alone to ward off every enemy. No one else within their party had skill with ranged weaponry aside from minor hunting tactics with sharpened sticks. Although Kale knew there had been no time for preparations, the thought of ambushing the oncoming knights seemed more appealing than ever; yet he knew at this point it was far too late.
“Ready yourselves, men, and reposition to face the oncomin’ attack.” Illadar tightened his hold upon the flail. He was prepared to fight with every ounce of his strength. This battle was for the wife and child he had so tragically lost—it was for those who had suffered by the hands of Jedah’s men—and to protect the innocent hiding beneath the small town.
“I am ready, let them come—for they shall die tonight.” Kale’s eyes burned with hatred at the thought of Malakhar looming nearby. He gritted his teeth, forming a tightened grin as he envisioned his sword slicing through the dark elf’s body. He had let Malakhar slip through his fingers once—but never again would he allow the past to repeat itself. He wanted justice, and longed for revenge.
As the sound of footsteps drew closer, it felt as though a heavy blanket draped over them, causing the air to feel hot and difficult to breathe. Neelan was the first who caught a glimpse of the reflective metals as the warriors approached in a well-formed protective stance. Their shields created a nearly impenetrable barrier that closed in on where they stood. Within seconds, they were met by a wall of steel.
“I knew Malakhar’s plan would prove successful. Your weak heart shall be the death of you—foolish Illadar.” A familiar voice spoke. The barrier of shields parted just enough to allow sight of a man who bore a wide, rotten-toothed smile.
“Saldin!” The veins on Illadar’s neck throbbed as he stared resentfully toward the general’s lieutenant.
“It’s quite amusing you know—I can still remember the squeals from your wife as she was acquainted with the general’s blade. Now the time has come for you to meet the same fate as I pierce my steel through your pathetic heart.” Saldin laughed hysterically.
“You’re mine!” Illadar’s muscles flexed as he yelled out in fury. He raised his flail, taking off in a charge toward Saldin while disobeying his own words of caution.
Before making it to the wall of shields which protected the lieutenant, a white blast shot from behind the knights. Illadar stopped in his tracks as he watched many of the enemy men fly in all directions upon the spell’s impact. Some landed upon the ground with minor scrapes, while others lay lifeless, their limbs scattered about.
“Thomas! I thought—” Kale’s voice was cut off by the loud sound of a horn Saldin now held to his lips.
“Guard up!” Saldin shouted as each knight swiftly ducked beneath their shields.
Within seconds the sky lit up and Kale immediately recognized the flickering vibrancy of flame. Many bolts began to descend upon their heads.
Thomas instantly teleported to Kale’s side, dampened with heavy sweat. “Gather around me!” He shouted. “Alaria!” Thomas called out as he extended his palm toward the sky.
They watched in relief as a swarm of fire-coated bolts ricocheted off an invisible barrier that protected them from harm.
“I thought you planned to rid us of the surrounding threat, Thomas!” Kale’s eyes were wide as he glanced at the damage. Some of the arrows struck the surrounding homes and flames quickly fed upon the thatched roofs.
“The archers are taking caution to stay out of my sight. I was only able to strike down one group before they grew wise to my presence,” Thomas spoke quickly. “I must go now and salvage what I can of the town before it is too late.” Without another word, he briskly left in the opposite direction of the scattered knights.
“Get them!” Saldin called out as he staggered to his feet. His greasy hair hung sloppily over his leathery skin as he directed his glare toward Illadar.
A horde of men flocked toward Kale and his comrades, a blood thirsty craze filling their eyes. The battle erupted as weapons crossed, and soon Kale and his party began to drift apart as each fought for their lives. Kale struggled to stay close to Neelan as she dodged and parried attacks in attempts to distance herself far enough to fire another shot from her bow. As Kale warded off an incoming attack from one of the knights, he kept a close eye out for Malakhar. He knew the vile dark elf had to be nearby. Kale’s blade slid against his opponent’s until they both pushed back to increase the amount of space between them.
“You don’t have to do this,” Kale tried to reason with the knight. “The people within this town are kind and good-hearted; they don’t deserve what you bring upon them.”
“Silence!” the knight replied as he thrust his blade forward. “Those who are not allied with General Jedah are our rivals. All who oppose shall meet the fate of our steel!”
The knight’s loyalty to such a malicious man infuriated Kale to a point of pure rage. He could feel his palms beginning to grow warmer with each passing second. Yes, keep going. Kale continued to focus his ability as they reengaged in combat. He smiled as the searing heat began to course through his blade, creating a faint red glow.
The illuminated weapon drew the attention of another knight who came to aid his comrade. It was now a battle of two against one.
Kale was thankful to see the second knight who joined in was the person previously attacking Neelan. Joy swept through him as he saw from his peripheral vision that she was now standing away from the chaos within the temporary sanctuary of a darkened alley. He could see she was preparing to re-engage her bow for an attack. His wandering mind got the best of him, allowing one of the knights to dodge Kale’s oncoming attack, riposting toward Kale’s chest. Although Kale managed to sidestep the thrust, the attack had been swift enough to slice against his bicep. Blood instantly trickled down his arm—fueling his adrenaline. He couldn’t afford another reckless move. Elanya had enchanted Kale’s weapon for the very purpose of being able to withstand his power. The time had come to utilize her gift for the good of Ravondore.
“Now, you die!” Kale’s body was infused with fury as his sword swung toward the knights with amazing speed. He applied full force with both hands as the blade sliced through the chainmail ringlets of the first man, melting his flesh. The powerful attack continued on to his comrade who stood by his side—sending him to a similar fate. Kale stood above the two knights who had been sliced into halves. “I tried to reason with you—scum.”
Kale immediately moved to another target charging toward the unprotected rear of Illadar, who was still engaged in combat with Saldin. Despite Kale’s attempt to ease the burden upon Illadar, many knights continued to focus upon him.
Eventually, Illadar backed into a wall, surrounded by warriors who had the sole desire of striking the killing blow.
“For you, my love,” Illadar spoke as he violently swung the flail.
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The flail collided into the gut of a nearby knight; the force immediately caused the man to fold over, dropping his sword. Blood spouted from the knight’s mouth as his body collapsed to the ground.
Illadar focused on the next enemy, who swiftly met a similar fate. The flail impacted against a knight’s leg, shattering the bone and causing severe open wounds which oozed crimson. Illadar ducked and sidestepped out of the oncoming attacks, fueled by his desire for revenge.
There were now only two men left between Illadar and the cowardly Saldin, standing safely back as he watched with amusement while his pawns fought faithfully. As one of the knights thrust his sword forward, Illadar met the attack midway as the weighted ball of his flail swung many times around the warrior’s blade. Illadar tugged the sword effortlessly from the knight’s hand. He gripped the hilt, pulling it free from entanglement. Illadar then used the knight’s very weapon to riposte and plunge the tip of the blade through the man’s throat.
The knight shivered in shock as he reached for his oozing neck before buckling to his knees. Illadar was fueled by the thought of ridding the world of foul beings like Saldin and his loyal men. He swung his massive arms as though a mindless berserker, hell-bent on destroying the wicked. The flail collided with the side of the remaining knight’s face, smashing into his skull until his features were unrecognizable. The spikes sunk so deeply, the weapon was nearly irretrievable.
Saldin flashed a yellowed grin as he raised his sword. He gazed forward through greasy brown hair as he charged Illadar.
“You will die now, traitor!” Saldin yelled while swinging his weapon toward Illadar’s head.
Illadar spun away just in time, but felt the force of air swoosh by his cheek. As he regained his footing, Illadar reached behind his back to withdraw the mighty claymore which easily outreached the longsword.
“I’m not goin’ down that easy,” Illadar mocked Saldin as their swords clashed.
Their battle intensified as each man fought to land a killing blow. While Illadar excelled in strength, Saldin maintained an exceptional speed and parried each strike. Both men were exceptionally skilled and well trained in combat techniques.
Within the alley, Neelan struggled with the pain from her wound and amount of blood loss. Despite her agony, she continued to fire off a series of arrows toward the knights. The surrounding darkness provided her with ample camouflage so the men could not easily spot where she stood. As she reached to withdraw another arrow, a strong force pushed her violently forward. She fell to her hands and knees, watching as her arrow spiraled away. Neelan released a shrill cry as a spurt of blood gushed from her wound.
Both Kale and one of the townsmen from Braxle heard the sound and immediately fought to make way toward her.
A knight, who had caught onto Neelan’s stealthy tactic, towered over her with a crazed look of perversion in his eyes. “Too bad such a pretty little thing will die tonight. We could’ve had some fun.” He let out a sinister laugh. “Then again, when this is all over, maybe we still can. I prefer a woman who remains still while I have my way with her.” More laughter burst from his wide lips as he raised his sword.
Kale and the townsman dashed toward Neelan as the knight swung downward. The townsman arrived first as he lunged forward, deflecting the blow mere inches away from Neelan’s head.
“Fight me, you cowardly cur! How dare you lay harm to an injured opponent—a woman, nonetheless!” The townsman yelled angrily as he flourished his weapon toward the knight.
“It’s your death wish.” The knight grinned as their swords chimed against one another.
Kale hurried to Neelan’s aid as he gently lifted her to her feet. “Are you all right?” He kept a firm grip around her waist until certain she could stand upright.
“I am fine.” Neelan grunted. “Thank you.”
“Get yourself to safety; I’m not allowing you to fight any more,” Kale demanded.
“Do not command me. I am fighting until this battle is over,” Neelan stubbornly replied.
Before Kale could scold her, a cold steel blade swung toward his face, grazing his cheek with the tip. He stepped back, protectively pushing Neelan to the side. Kale glanced up to see the same knight who had engaged with the townsman only moments ago. From the corner of Kale’s eye, he saw the valiant man who had tried to save Neelan lying lifeless and limp upon the ground.
Kale groaned angrily as he stepped forward while torquing his sword back. The edge of Kale’s blade ripped through the knight’s neck before there was any time to prepare for the blow.
The heated weapon sliced into the warrior’s muscle and bone with ease, giving him a swift death. The sickening scent of burnt flesh filled the air as the knight’s head rolled to the ground.
“So, you do still retain the power of flame. How very interesting. And here I was thinking my familiar, Sarus, was fooling me,” a raspy voice sounded to the side.
Kale’s eyes instantly turned toward the noise. There, stood a figure in black whose long, pale fingers stroked the black feathers of a crow perched upon his shoulder.
“Malakhar!” Kale called out as he tightened his grip on the weapon. “That bird…” Kale recognized the crow which he recalled sighting on many previous occasions.
“How thoughtful, you know my name—I am touched.” Hoarse laughter escaped from the dark hole within the draping hood. “And it would appear you’ve also been acquainted with Sarus as well.” Malakhar continued to stroke the bird. “Did you truly believe I would allow you and Illadar to leave this pathetic town without being watched? I am no fool, you ignorant dragon. I could have killed Illadar that night, but I needed you alive. There were far too many disgusting humans around for me to complete my mission alone, and having no weapon on hand, I was not about to attack the entire, worthless town. I allowed you to leave while Sarus kept a careful watch upon you both. This provided me the time to increase my magical abilities—which I lacked upon our previous encounter.”
“Allowed us? There is no way you could have slain Illadar that night; he would have easily had your head—or whatever it is hiding within your cloak. For such strong words, you sure fled like a coward.” Though Kale wanted to strike Malakhar where he stood, he needed to find the answers he desired. “Why hasn’t your master, General Jedah, come?” Kale snickered, purposely attempting to agitate the dark elf.
“He is not my master, you filthy dragon!” Malakhar’s voice rose as he spoke. “I am in debt by oath to that human. Once I deliver you to him, I shall be free of these chains he holds upon me. When that moment arrives, he shall be sorry for attempting to use me as a pawn for so many years. Once I am able to retrieve the scrolls of Drell, he will become my servant—along with the rest of the world who will bow before my power.” More laughter followed.
“So Jedah is unaware you have found me?” Kale pried the subject to confirm his suspicions, all the while keeping distance from Malakhar’s reach.
“I do not answer to you!” Malakhar waved his hand and the crow took flight above the rooftops. “You are already aware of my past, thanks to my pathetic twin brother, so I suppose there is no longer the need to hide myself.” He curled his long, deathly pale fingers around the edge of his hood, allowing it to fall back upon his shoulders.
Kale cringed as Malakhar revealed his hideous, misshapen face.
Malakhar’s nose was excessively lumpy and coated in a scab-like crust. His long ears did not slant upward as Neelan’s did, but instead seemed to droop down toward his neck like heavy flaps of flesh. The dark elf’s face bore many deep purple veins which seemed to press against his near transparent skin. His eyes were the most daunting feature—soulless, and black as the night. It wasn’t only his iris that was black, but the entire eye itself. The shade contrasted dramatically against his flesh. His appearance could be summed into one word—evil.
&nbs
p; “I must admit, I was expecting a rather different response to my…monstrous features. Then again, you are not truly human.” Malakhar’s colorless lips curled up into a smile which revealed jagged teeth that looked as though they had been smacked with a stone. Each tooth appeared crooked or chipped—all equally yellowed. “You are not human, nor dragon. You don’t fit in with either side—maybe, you and I are more alike than you realize, Firehart.”
“The only thing you and I share in common is that we both desire to change this world. Yet, your intentions benefit only yourself. It’s inhuman.” Kale focused as his sword began to softly glow. “You sicken me!” He could no longer contain his anger. He lunged forward, aiming for the cold-hearted, dark elf.
Malakhar opened his palm as a thin sword formed within his grasp. The blade matched his cold eyes—black. It was the most unique steel Kale had ever seen.
Malakhar’s speed was astounding and he deflected Kale’s oncoming attacks with ease. “Did you assume I would simply stand and allow you to strike me down? Tsk, tsk, how foolish, you silly dragon. As you have become stronger since we last met, so have I.” He leapt back to dodge another of Kale’s thrusts. Malakhar then extended his arm outward as shards of ice shot from his palm toward Kale.
Kale dove to the ground, rolling out of the attack before scurrying back upon his feet. “So you have obtained the ability to conjure magic. Just as I thought.”
Their swords crossed once again as Kale continued to focus on intensifying the heat which ran through his steel blade. This was a battle he knew he must win, for his friends—and for Ravondore.
“If you’re so powerful, why did you come here with the aid of Saldin?” Kale snickered, panting heavily while deflecting Malakhar’s attacks. “What a coward you are.”