by Robe
“Done,” Emule said, and he looked up from Auric’s blade, the glow in his eyes fading. He had engraved both sides of the sword with his magic, and the runes upon it flashed as Auric took its silver hilt. Nodding to Emule and Marima, Auric ran for the door.
“Auric!” a voice shouted from behind as Auric ran for the Long House doors. He turned to see Ziem, standing stiffly at the door to the common room.
“Stay there, Ziem,” Auric said, and he continued toward the exit.
“No, Auric!” Ziem shouted, and he pulled his arm from its sling. “I will not sit out again.”
“And what if you are hurt further?” Auric asked. “What use will you be then?”
“My injuries do not define my use,” Ziem said, and he drew his sword. The runes running the length of the blade crackled white and yellow. “I will not sit idle while others lose their lives.”
Auric consented, albeit unhappily, and he opened the Long House doors, Ziem just behind him as he exited. Save a few frantic stragglers running about, the village square was deserted. There was a clear battle taking place just outside of the village though, and Auric thought he spotted one of Reon’s signature fireballs hurtle up into the sky before exploding. Ziem was right beside Auric as he ran through the streets of Oluld, the sounds of battle growing louder as they approached.
“Fall back!” a voice was shouting, and a sudden crowd of Oluld defenders was bustling past, most of them turning their heads to see what was behind them, and even more of them limping or holding recently -sustained wounds. None of Auric’s friends were among them, and he pushed through to see farther ahead.
There his companions were, along with Zanesh and a few Martins who were still engaged in what was undoubtedly a losing battle, holding off the black-armored raiders as they assaulted onward. Joan and Kandon were watching out for each other, Veese was hovering a foot or two into the air to the side of the battle, trying to determine where he could be most useful, and Dalk and Thraun were fighting together, helping to hold off three or four raiders at a time. They were being forced back quite definitely though, the raiders’ number far too substantial for the few fighters to overcome. Many of the raiders were still mounted on their ethereal steeds, though most of them were continuing the attack on foot.
Ziem lifted his sword and spilled a series of small sparks into the blade, causing the runes to glow very brightly. Raising the weapon, Ziem unleashed a lightning streak through a gap between Joan and Zanesh, coming into contact with one of the raiders and leaping off of it to chain to a second and a third. Each of the unlucky suits of armor toppled to the ground, and only one of them stirred again.
A breeze pushed past Auric, and he found Veese’s gaze for a moment. Veese nodded his head sideways, pointing Auric’s attention to one of the raiders as it worked with another to double-team Reon. The leader of the heroes ran toward his friends to help.
Too many other raiders were behind the first line though, all eager to do battle, and as the group of defenders was forced back into the gates of Oluld, the surplus soldiers spilled out into the village. Many waved torches and smashed their way through doors and windows, filling the small fishing town with havoc.
“Pull out!” Zanesh finally commanded, and the remaining line disbanded, but not before a mounted raider swung its halberd at Reon, and the young man had to block the momentous attack with his own blade. Nobody could have had the strength to deflect the attack, and Reon’s own gladius cut into him before he fell to the ground.
Dodging the legs of the raider’s mount as it passed, Auric grabbed Reon by the scruff of his shirt and dragged him to a secluded area between two houses. He ripped Reon’s cloak off and tied it around the wound as best he could.
“Go, Auric,” Reon muttered through stifled whines of pain. “I’ll be fine. Go.”
Almost immediately, Auric was opening his mouth to disagree, but then he saw the fire still burning in Reon’s eyes. Nodding, he turned to rejoin the fight. The black raiders were spreading out, and utter turmoil had ensued. Everywhere, defenseless innocents were being dragged from their homes and slaughtered. A crack and a flash of light drew Auric’s attention to Ziem, and he dashed to rejoin his youngest companion as the electromancer tried to keep more raiders from entering the village. Due to the sheer number of attackers, Auric was ready to pull Ziem away from the gates, but as he approached, he reconsidered. Ziem was releasing blast after deafening blast of lightning from his hand and from his sword at the oncoming raiders, very effectively stunting their advance.
A nearby raider approached Ziem from behind, and Auric dashed to intercept it. Their swords clashed, and Auric was surprised at how easily he deflected its blow. His new blade glowed again, brown like the earth he could conjure. Within the weapon, something was calling to him, pleading for energy, and Auric didn’t hesitate to deliver. He unleashed a torrent of what would have been earth into the hilt, but before the dirt ever appeared, the energy was absorbed and the symbols along the blade shone fiercely.
The raider swung again, and Auric deflected the attack. He retaliated, and the walking armor seemed surprised at its opponent’s newfound power. It took only two more blows for the being to fall to the ground. With the knowledge that his strike would not end a life, Auric plunged his sword through a gap in the breastplate of the raider. A faint whistle escaped from the armor as Auric pierced it, but he felt no resistance to make him think he had stabbed anything other than a suit of armor.
“Watch out!” Joan cried, and her companion ducked as a black raider swung from behind and inadvertently struck another raider attacking Kandon from the front. The accidental victim toppled, and Kandon tackled the legs of the knight still standing, bringing it down as well. With a knife he pulled from his tunic, he stabbed into the helmet of the raider, and it stopped moving. Joan dodged the passing strike of a mounted brigand as it went by before pulling Kandon to his feet.
“Not the first time I’ve been saved by a woman today,” Kandon grinned and wiped his own blood from his mouth.
“And with any luck, it won’t be the last,” Joan said before thrusting her long knife into the helmet head of the other black raider.
“We are losing,” Kandon said, looking around. “It’s time to fall back.”
Raiders surrounded Dalk and Thraun as they stood back-to-back, deflecting attack after attack. There were at least four, each making staggered blows at the heroes, and each one failing as badly as the last. Although their defense was strong, the pair was trapped, and it was only a matter of time before a strike would hit.
“Are we doomed to parry these strikes - agh! - forever?” Thraun asked, blocking a blow from a raider axe with his shield, and a spear with a quick barrier.
“Not likely,” Dalk said, wincing as he barely managed to prevent a lunge from one of the raiders. “Where is Reon when you need him?”
A cry from just beyond the group of raiders surrounded them, and Thraun had to push Dalk to the ground as a mounted force of five or six Martins thundered through the battle. They ripped the headless helmets clean off three of the raiders before continuing onward down the street, hacking away at the raiders as they went.
“Ride true!” Thraun shouted after them as he got to his feet, and he helped Dalk up. The final raider had been knocked to the dirt as well, and Thraun spotted it slowly reaching for its sword. He stomped on its wrist, and its helmet turned as if it were looking up at him.
“We need to find the others,” Dalk said as he thrust his sword into the helmet of the raider. Thraun nodded, and he led the way back up the street.
“Well, well, well,” a voice said behind them, and Dalk knew who had uttered the words before he turned.
“I was sure we would find your stench here somewhere, Balanch. Certainly not at the front lines, though,” Dalk spat.
“It is good to see you again, Dalk,” Balanch grinned. “Our last encounter did not end well. I recall you fleeing.”
“I recall you fleeing from my co
mrades, though,” Dalk responded, slowly approaching Balanch.
“Your comrades,” Balanch said. “Not you.”
With a cry, Dalk rushed at Balanch, his sword glowing light blue. Thraun followed Dalk from behind as Dalk swung his longsword at the villain, only to have him catch the attack with his own blade.
“I see you have acquired a new weapon,” Balanch grinned. “Athough, is it as strong as mine?” He lifted his blade and it shined brilliantly.
Dalk attacked again, and Balanch almost effortlessly stopped the blow. The two sparred, and it was soon evident that Dalk was tiring. When the first blow Dalk could not deflect came, an overhead swing of Balanch’s weapon, Thraun stepped forward and raised a barrier to catch the attack. The shield shuttered as the swing fell, Thraun feeling the force ringing through his head as he struggled to maintain the transparent wall.
“Hmm,” Balanch mumbled, looking interestedly at the barrier. “Impressive. I see why my master was so eager to have you.”
“How much longer are you going to talk?” Thraun asked. “The night grows old.”
Balanch grinned and struck the barrier again.
A lone raider sat idly as the chaos churned around it. Its luxurious red cape flowed behind it in the evening breeze, and its shiny, trimmed armor gleamed a wicked black against the starlight. It seemed to be surveying the battle, its horned helmet head turning from side to side as it gazed eyelessly about.
Veese was watching it from nearby, and he tensed as its sights seemed to stop on him. The raider grabbed the reins of its mount and slowly trotted away toward a duel between a Martin and a black raider. With a quick sweep of its spear, the decorated raider cut down the Martin woman from behind, and then it looked back at Veese.
Veese sheathed his sword and closed his eyes. He brought his hands before him and felt the air spiral and whip around within them as he commanded it before returning his stare to the raiders. With a swift gesture, he released the wind, and it bellowed toward his targets. The unmounted knight was thrown to the ground far away, but the black raider with the red cape simply raised its shield as if deflecting a gentle breeze.
As swift as the wind he threw, Veese dashed at the raider, willing the air around him to carry him and his lame leg. He got just close enough for the being to swing its spear at him, but he easily sidestepped the attack, and while the raider recovered, Veese leapt to the wall of a cottage just behind his opponent. With another great effort, Veese flung himself from the wall and turned midair so that both of his legs struck the raider, knocking it from its horse.
Disheveled and having dropped its spear and shield, the black raider rose, but within moments, Veese was upon it again. As he moved to strike the raider with his sword, glowing pale green in the night, the raider threw its arm out and deflected Veese’s thin blade. It pulled its own sword from a sheath at its side and brandished the weapon, a shiny, black blade, slightly curved at the end.
“You are brave,” the being spoke. Its voice was deep and gravelly and sounded as though it came from far beneath its breastplate instead of the helmet. “Only the strong shall live.”
Veese took a step back and raised his hand again, unleashing a torrent of air at the creature. The cape of the raider swept wildly behind it, but it did not fall. Instead, the black raider stepped toward the hero. Veese glared and intensified the wind until he was unleashing the mightiest gale he’d ever conjured upon his target. Behind the raider, its mount fled, and the shutters on the nearby cottage slammed back and forth against the wall and window they were affixed to before being ripped clean off. Regardless, the raider approached, and before long, it was within striking range of Veese. Frozen in disbelief, Veese tried to strengthen his attack further, but he found he’d reached his peak.
The black raider wound back and lunged forward, its fist connecting with Veese’s face. The hero fell, and the wind followed him. A glint from the black blade was all Veese could see through his blindness and disorientation, but it was enough to make him roll aside. The sword fell just short of the hero’s head, and his vision returned to him. The raider was fast, much faster than the others, and it followed Veese, dashing toward him with slice after slice of its obsidian edge. When there was a small gap between the two, Veese pushed himself up and just barely launched himself into the air with his wind to avoid another attack from the raider.
Levitating above the raider’s reach, Veese decided the battle he had chosen was not a wise one, and he gave the decorated raider one more blast of air before gliding to safer ground and staggering away.
“Ziem!” Auric shouted to his friend as the boy plunged his sword into a well-electrified raider. “The entirety of the raider force is either in Oluld or dead. We must move into the village.”
“What if more arrive?” Ziem asked, wiping sweat from his brow with his good arm.
“Then we will take them as they reach us,” Auric said. “We must help the others.”
Ziem nodded, and the two turned to the streets of Oluld. “What is that?” Ziem asked, pointing toward the dark sea water past Oluld. “Is that a ship?”
“It is a ship,” Auric muttered. A vessel was clearly sailing the waters just off the docks of Oluld, and it appeared to be leaving, its sails facing opposite the village. “It’s fleeing… Is the battle so lost that the Martins are forsaking their allies?”
Unable to focus on such matters, the two heroes put it from their minds and raced back down the streets of Oluld. The dead and injured scattered the sides of the road, citizens of Oluld and black raiders alike. Auric rushed to where he had left Reon, hidden safely between two houses, only to find his friend was gone.
“What is it?” Ziem asked, frowning as Auric looked about confusedly.
“I left Reon here, injured,” Auric said. “I hope he was strong enough to drag himself farther from battle.”
Ziem nodded and the two carried on. The sound of battle was all around the heroes, but it was so vast and consuming that no direction could be pinpointed. The pair was lost until a clear and familiar voice rang through the streets. A mutual feeling of contempt coursed through Auric and Ziem as they looked at one another, and then they proceeded hastily through an alleyway that led them to the scene of a battle.
Balanch was locking swords with Dalk, although the algidimancer seemed exhausted. Joan was lying just at Dalk’s feet, trying to push herself up. Behind the duel lay Kandon, holding his leg as blood covered his trousers, his crossbow smashed beside him. Thraun was encased by a glob of tar, trapped on the ground with no blade to cut himself free.
“You fought valiantly!” Balanch grinned, his blade locked with Dalk’s, the runes in both weapons glowing brightly. “Once my master has finished with you, I will tell your story, of how brave you were to try to stop him, and how your foolishness ended you!” As Balanch spat the final words, he overpowered Dalk, and as the hero stumbled, Balanch smashed him across the face with the hilt of his sword.
“No!” Auric shouted and dashed toward the villain.
Balanch turned to see Auric charging him whilst pulling his sword from its sheath, and his surprise turned to pleasure. “The leader of the fools himself!” Balanch laughed, and he raised his blade, only to be knocked off balance by a narrowly missed streak of lightning from Ziem. The smile left Balanch’s face and he grunted as he caught Auric’s blow.
Auric swung with all of his strength, infuriated by the theatrics of his opponent. Their swords clashed again and again, but it was clear to Auric that Balanch’s strokes were of superior power, despite the hero’s new weapon. He jumped backwards, making Balanch swing at air, and then he raised his left hand and released a spray of crumbly dirt into Balanch’s face.
Having opened his mouth to jeer, Balanch was reduced to spitting mud, and he barely deflected Auric’s next swing. He shoved Auric’s blade back, staggering the geomancer. “So, you finally discovered your power,” Balanch said once his mouth was no longer filled. “I was beginning to think my master was mis
taken when he repeatedly instructed me to leave you alive.” He raised his hand and unleashed a cloud of smoke at Auric.
Auric dove to the side, but the smog engulfed him regardless. He could hear the crackling sound of Ziem’s lightning as the young man took up the fight in Auric’s involuntary respite. With the blinding smoke all around him, Auric pulled his tunic over his mouth to filter the unclean air as he tried to navigate from the haze. He could hear Balanch taunting, and then an exclamation from Ziem.
Finally, Auric tumbled from the thick atmosphere. Ziem was favoring his left arm from his spot on the ground, tar surrounding him. As Auric turned to see Balanch, the villain raised his hand and blasted Ziem with another spurt of tar.
Behind Balanch, Joan had risen and was slowly making her way towards him, her long knife in hand. She gave Auric a wide-eyed look, and he ran at Balanch in an attempt to distract their adversary. The villain slashed his sword at the air toward Auric, sending another wave of muck with enough force to knock him down. Before Joan could reach him, Balanch turned and did the same to her.
“Look at our little heroes now,” Balanch mocked. “Exhausted and defeated.”
Auric struggled to escape the adhesive tar as Balanch approached him, his hand outstretched. The gunk, as if alive, constricted Auric further, squeezing the breath out of him. The muck was soon at his chin, and next, over his mouth. He writhed to escape it, trying to flick his sword to cut the grime, but it was no use. He looked up at Balanch just as it reached his eyes, and before it blinded him, he saw Veese.
Balanch scoffed as he looked upon the tattered warrior of wind; blood spilled freely from the hero’s nose, and his crippled leg shook as he approached. Regardless of his appearance, he lashed at Balanch with his petite sword, glowing green against the starlight. Balanch parried the attack and anticipated the next quickly. Veese was wildly quick in his strikes, performing an almost indefensible flurry. Balanch began to panic as he realized that, even in Veese’s state, the hero’s swordplay would dominate him.