Izaryle's Prison

by Levi Samuel

  Gareth stepped forward, hugging him. Breaking away he gave a playful shove. “Good to see you. I'm glad we got your message.”

  Demetrix chuckled. “I was beginning to fear they’d shot the hawk down before it found you.” Dropping the pack he pulled out two fur hides, nearly emptying it. Tossing one to each of them he slung the pack and continued. “We have lodging for the night. Tomorrow we make for Idenfal.”

  “Lodging? Where?” Ravion questioned, searching his brother's face.

  A collection of alfar and humans stepped into the open, revealing themselves.

  Ravion counted twenty of them. “Resistance?”

  “Yes. Their stronghold isn't far. Though don't trust your eyes in the forest. It has a tendency to play tricks on the mind.”

  Gareth sighed. “Great, another thing to mess with my mind.”

  An ear piercing howl echoed through the air. The humans and elves took defensive positions.

  “Orcs? They were followed!” One of the alfar announced, nocking an arrow.

  Demetrix abandoned the pack, following suit.

  Drawing his sword Ravion shed the fur hide, finding it in his way. He was much colder without it, but lack of mobility was too great a price to pay for comfort.

  Gareth drew his swords, readying himself for the fight.

  A group of warg riders breached the crest, flying over the snow at a remarkable speed.

  Demetrix counted at least thirty of them. “Aim for the wargs. There's better chance to wound the orcs when they fall.”

  Arrows flew through the air disappearing into the approaching horde. The first few wargs toppled end over end, losing their riders in the snow. The dismounted orcs were slow to pick themselves up. Those that did quickly fell to the continuous flow of arrows.

  Ravion took a step back, looking over the drop off. He could barely see the bottom. “Take as many out as you can. Let the second wave through! If they come in fast enough, they'll run right off the edge.”

  Gareth looked back, understanding Ravion's plan. He was too cold to move quickly, but perhaps there was something he could do about that. He closed his eye. Imagining the orcs as dreu he found his rage. Letting it build, a barrier wrapped around him. He already felt warmer. Forcing the image with all his might, Gareth thrust his hand outward, straining against the force flowing from him. He could see the wave of clear energy shoot forth, forming a squat wall across the snowy hill.

  Many of the wargs tripped over the invisible barrier, face planting in the white powder. Their yelps and cries of pain echoed above all else. Seeing his brethren topple, Krenin urged Xarg faster. Heeling him gently the warg leapt, clearing the unseen wall. Several of the other orcs followed suit. They were nearing their target, ready to end the resistance in this one key attack.

  “Ready spears!” Krenin shouted, pulling one of the wooden poles from the side of his saddle. “Launch!” Rearing back he flung the weapon ahead of him, watching it soar into one of the elves, pinning him against a tree. Several others flew through the air. Some hit, some missed, disappearing among the trees and snowfall.

  “Krenin?” Ravion stared at the devoted green, half-orc. There was something different about him. A blood lust showed in his eyes unlike any he'd seen before. He wasn't just drawn to it. He enjoyed it. He'd seen that look before, but never so strong as to block out the man that carried it. “Krenin, stop!” The half-orc barreled toward him, threatening to trample.

  Krenin charged toward the human— or elf. He wasn't sure what it was. The face looked familiar, but they were all pretty much the same. At least this one had the courage to carry a weapon. Maybe it would put up a worthy fight before he let his pup feast on the entrails. Launching another spear he knocked one of the archers off his feet, sending him back and pinning him to one of the trees. Out of spears he drew his warvich, ready to cut into the man-elf.

  Ravion knew it was too late. They were too close. He had to do something now. If he didn't, Krenin would strike. I'm sorry, my friend! Ravion rolled at the last minute, jabbing his sword straight into the air. He felt resistance against the razor-sharp edge and warm blood coat him.

  Xarg howled in pain. Krenin felt the pup go limp. It tripped, burying itself in the snow. Coming loose from the saddle, Krenin slammed into the ground. Unable to stop himself he slid, seeing the rapidly approaching cliff edge. He was moving too fast. Flying over the ledge, he felt weightless.

  “Krenin!” Ravion charged toward the edge, watching the half-orc disappear from sight. Sliding to a stop, his heart sank. There was no way he could have survived the fall. Yet he couldn't see any bodies in the distance, but that didn't mean anything. Enough snow could have covered the body. Or if it was ice, he could have broken through. Sighing heavily, Ravion picked himself up and spun around. There were still orcs to contend with and they were going to pay for the death of his friend.

  Demetrix dodged one of the spears. It impaled one of the humans. Side stepping he fired an arrow into the orc's side, knocking it from the saddle. The warg slid, falling over the icy cliff.

  Ravion jumped out of the way and moved closer to the trees. He didn't intend to follow Krenin over the edge. Coming up behind the archers he leapt from cover, slamming his shoulder into a mounted orc. It toppled into the snow.

  The orc sprang up, drawing his warvich. Lunging at the human, he missed.

  Ravion jumped back, deflecting the strike. It almost knocked his sword out of his hand. Seeing the orc reserve his strength for a powerful attack, Ravion prepared.

  The orc charged, releasing a shrieking battle shout. He swung his warvich with such ferocity it would break anything it touched.

  Ravion brought his sword to block. The enchanted steel flexed under the force, but stopped the attack. Refusing to give the orc another chance he jumped, letting the orc's strength betray him. He crashed to the ground. Flipping overhead, Ravion plunged his sword into the brute's back, piercing the thick breastplate. The orc fell forward, gasping his final breath.

  Gareth launched one of his swords end over end. He could sense the invisible force around the blade, carrying it toward his destination. The sword stabbed into an orc, tip first, burying itself to the polished handguard. He calmly walked toward the snarling warg, shoving his remaining weapon into the beast's maw. The warg yelped and collapsed. Ripping his sword free he turned, searching for any others.

  Demetrix counted the men Elalon had sent with him. There were only nine remaining, but all the orcs were dead. It was a heavy loss, but one the resistance could count as a victory. “Gather the wounded. Let's back to Adariel before more orcs show up!”

  Music echoed throughout the elven city. Elves and humans alike danced in all directions. Tables were covered by elegant, white cloths displaying a plethora of color. Roasted boar, fresh fruit, arranged vegetables, and many desserts were splayed out for all to partake.

  Ravion and Gareth sat at one of the tables uncomfortably watching the people around them.

  “You're sure it was him?” Gareth arched his exposed eyebrow at the outfit of choice by one of the humans. It was strangely tight and tailored of a dark brown. Frilly white lace exploded from the collar and wrist holes, seemingly on purpose. Shaking his head he returned his attention to Ravion.

  “I am. If it weren't enough that his skin was green, I got a good look at his face.”

  “That's unfortunate. I always liked the dummy, regardless of how many times he annoyed me.”

  “As did I.”

  Demetrix approached the table. He was dressed in fine silk of emerald and brown.

  Elalon followed closely behind, her hand in his. She wore a radiant and flowing gown matching in material and color to Demetrix.

  “Ravion, Gareth. I’d like to introduce you to Lady Elalon, leader of the resistance and last of the royal elven line.” He leaned in and whispered. “That's what they call alfar here.” Guiding her around to meet them he stepped aside.

  Ravion stood and gave a delicate bow. “Lady Elalon,
it's a pleasure to meet you.

  She bowed in return. “The pleasure's all mine. Demetrix has told me so much about you.”

  “I assure you it's not all true.” Gareth chuckled, half meaning his statement.

  “I should hope not.” She jested, softly hitting Demetrix in the arm.

  “What are you guys doing here? Go out, drink— be merry. Elalon has already had supplies set out for us. We'll leave at first light.”

  Gareth looked around the open platform locking his sight on one of the human women at the drink table. “You know, this is the first time we've been able to unwind since we got here. I believe I will partake of the festivities.” He stood and marched toward the girl. Spinning around, he shouted over the music. “I'll see you gentlemen in the morning.”

  Ravion chuckled, watching Gareth initiate contact. Returning his attention to his brother and Elalon, he found their urging faces staring back at him. “What?”

  “You need to unwind. There's plenty of time to sulk later.”

  “I'm not sulking. I'm observing. Someone around here has to have their wits about them. What if the orcs seek retribution?”

  Elalon gestured to the sides. “My guards are keeping watch. They'll handle any situations that arise. If it's bigger than their ability, the rest of us will have time to clear our heads and prepare.”

  “I appreciate the sentiment, your majesty.” Ravion smiled, hoping the statement didn't come across as abrasive. “But I have more than tonight to think about. I'd rather get a good night's rest and be ready for whatever we may face tomorrow.”

  “I understand. Have a wonderful evening. If you need anything, you have but to ask.” She pulled against Demetrix, urging him to follow. “Now, if you'll excuse us, we have some—” She paused. “—things to work out.”

  Ravion smiled understanding her intention. “Have fun, you two. I'll see you in the morning.”

  Chapter XXI

  The Long Walk

  Jagged steel scrapped against the icy cliff face shaving layers from the frozen formation. Krenin struggled to keep hold of the leather wrapped handle of his sword. Numbness had set into this knuckles. Pulling himself up he kicked into the crystalline surface, fracturing it. The mirrored finish distorted, leaving white cracks where his boots hit. He buried his toes into the damaged section, pressing his back against the crevice behind him. Wedged into place he ripped the blade free, stabbing it into the ice above him. His arms were growing tired. Glancing up he could see the ledge. Gritting teeth he repeated the process, seeing the powdery substance within reach. He threw his thick, green arms over the edge digging through the snow, searching for anything to grab hold of. Finding what felt like a tree root he pulled, hoping it would hold his weight. To his relief, it did. Dragging himself to the top Krenin dusted the snow from his chilled armor.

  Bodies littered the elevated bluff. Orc, human, elf, warg— they remained scattered where they’d fallen. A light powder had collected atop, but it seemed the snow had stopped shortly after the battle.

  The exhausted half-orc staggered through the knee-deep accumulation, searching for survivors. It didn't matter what race, they would serve his needs. A red stain caught his attention. His knees buckled at the sight. He saw gray and white fur, partially covered, lying just ahead of him. Icy blue eyes stared back at him, cold and glazed. Tears poured down his face, freezing instantly. He crawled on his hands and knees, pulling himself toward Xarg. It seemed the closer he came, the further the pup was. An eternity passed. He finally reached his only true friend, the one that loved him no matter what. Gripping the mixed fur, Krenin pull tight to the loving animal. Examining the wound he noticed he'd been cut from chest to tail, gutting him in a single slice. Replaying that moment in his head he knew who was responsible. The human looking elf was going to pay. Krenin pulled the damaged harness free of his pup. He didn't bother unbuckling it. The straps had been cut. No, it was best to preserve it in its current state. That way the man would remember what he'd done. That memory would be his last. Stern gaze locked, Krenin heaved the leather and metal to his shoulder and searched for the tracks leading into the forest. There weren't enough bodies here. The survivors had to have retreated somewhere and he would find them.

  Stepping onto the thinning snow around the forest's edge Krenin heard a grunt to his right. Glancing over he saw a few orcs huddled around a small fire. They were wounded, but maybe they could serve his purpose. After all, if he was going to catch up and find these humans he didn't have time to return to Idenfal. His revenge would be swift. It would be methodical. It would be without mercy.

  Approaching, Krenin looked upon the group of orcs. There were only six remaining. Measuring each of them, none but himself held any true status. “Get off your asses. We have humans to kill!” Refusing to wait he turned and made his way into the forest.

  The amplified morning light beamed through an overhead window illuminating the large bed stationed in the center of the room.

  Demetrix awoke, feeling it upon his face. A milky, white arm was wrapped around him taking comfort in his embrace. He hated to wake her, but it was time. To abandon her without word seemed cruel, despite her feelings toward goodbyes. Carefully moving her arm, he crawled out of bed and quickly stepped into his black, woolen breeches. Leaning over he kissed Elalon’s forehead, watching her sparkling blue eyes peek open.

  A smile breached her lips at his sight.

  “Good morning, beautiful. Did you sleep well?”

  Wrapping her arms around his back she pulled him close, kissing his lips between words. “Better— than— ever!”

  Demetrix gently pressed his forehead against hers, lingering above her. “That's good.” Closing his eyes, he dreaded what he was going to say next. “I—.”

  As if she were reading his mind Elalon spoke, silencing him. “You don't have to say anything. I know you have to go. I wish we had more time together, and perhaps one day we will. But for now, you've given me my wish. I got to see you tomorrow.” She moved her head, kissing his. “Go. Your brothers are probably waiting for you.”

  Demetrix smiled, looking into her face for what could possibly be the last time. “I love you.”

  “And I you.”

  Pushing himself up, Demetrix grabbed his tunic and boots and slowly walked backwards toward the door as to keep her in his sights for as long as possible.

  She laughed at his silliness. “Go! You're going to be late.”

  Smiling at her he spun around and disappeared, pulling his shirt overhead.

  “Took you long enough! What'd you have to do, clean your armor?” Gareth joked, picking at the fur liner sticking from beneath the leather plates.

  “I said I'm sorry. What do you want from me?” Demetrix adjusted his quiver, ensuring he could reach his arrows and swords with ease.

  Ravion chuckled, seeing it was getting under his brother's skin. “It's not like we had a set departure time or anything. I mean, if you want to go back to bed for a few hours, we can wait.”

  “If you guys keep fucking with me, I just might.”

  “Relax, we're just giving you shit.” Gareth punched him in the arm. The blow was absorbed by the layered leather. “We're glad you finally got some. Only took traveling to another world to do it, but hey, our brother got laid.”

  “You know what? I fucking hate you guys!” Demetrix heaved his pack and marched toward the forest's edge.

  Ravion and Gareth laughed, watching him storm away.

  Strange noises echoed all around. The orcs huddled closer together, following their commander through the haunted forest. One swung his axe, batting at a seemingly attacking apparition. He searched, puzzled, unable to find any sign of the missing beast.

  Krenin glanced back, glaring his anger into the frightened orcs. Returning his attention to the overgrown trail he adjusted the heavy harness, securing his grip around the blood-soaked leather.

  The trailing orcs felt his rage burn through them. There was something primal about it.
As if he had not a care in the world other than the urge to kill. It was both inspiring and alarming. Though a great many orcs spent their lives aspiring to find such a state. Entering battle free of worry or care made the perfect warrior. If their commander had reached this state there wasn't anything to stop him, at least not without heavy losses. Trekking onward they ignored the phantoms, fearing the green orc's wrath over what the forest could offer.

  Krenin threw his hand into the air, halting the weakened orcs. Peeking through the trees, he could see a massive city standing in plain sight. How had he never seen it before?

  The orcs searched the trees, unable to find any reason for their halt. Did he smell something? Scratching their heads, they waited for his command.

  His lips tightened around his tusks. He would taste the blood of those within the city. Though he didn't have the orcs required to penetrate its walls, nor the rope to scale her sides. A flicker of movement caught his attention. Squinting into the distance Krenin spotted the man responsible for Xarg's death. His blood boiled. His palms grew sticky, longing to wrap around his sword. He wanted nothing more than to charge across the open and cut the man down. Stealing another glance at the city he realized they were too close. If he took another few steps he'd be within sight. Turning to face his men Krenin spoke in perfect orcish. “The men we after are just ahead, though we too close to the elven city. We have to go around. When they dead we come back with full might of shadow to crush resistance for good.”

  The orcs wanted to cheer, still uncertain where he was referring to, but it wasn't their place to question. Nodding their agreement they followed, letting him lead the way.

  The snow was much thicker on the mountain side than it had been in the hills. The three stood atop one of the bluffs overlooking the gargantuan city before them. Even at this distance it towered high overhead and stretched as far as the eye could see. The coin sized snowflakes didn't help matters. The darkened outline was all they could see. Not the gate, not the turrets, and certainly not the watchmen undoubtedly present.