by Andrew Day
Caellix sighed, and climbed the ladder. She examined the hatch, then whispered, “Locked. Get Kincade.”
Annabella was directed to the front of the group. She picked the rather simple lock very quickly, finishing with a dramatic flourish. Then she slowly and carefully pushed the hatch upwards a crack, wincing at the sound of rusty hinges squeaking, and peered out.
She mouthed down at the others, Alleyway. Looks clear. Then she opened the hatch wider and climbed out. A moment later she waved a hand to signal they were in the clear.
Caellix scaled the ladder first, followed by Snow, then Dhulrael and Serrel. It was raining hard when Serrel emerged at street level. He pulled up his hood, and pressed himself against the wall of the alley out of the way of the others.
The alley was narrow, but wide enough for maybe two people to walk down side by side. It opened on either end onto wide, cobbled streets. The seeking crystal was indicating through the building on his left. He pointed for Caellix to see.
Dhulrael whispered in the sergeant’s ear, “Both streets lead to the market square.”
“They’ll be guarded,” said Snow next to them. He looked about the alley, and spotted a tall drainpipe along one wall, leading up to the roof of the building. He pointed to a blackclad figure crouched in the shadows. “You. Um... Caster Stabby...”
“Blackwood,” corrected Victor.
“That’s what I thought. You’re one of Jurgen’s lot. Be a sport, and climb onto the roof and take a look around.”
Victor nodded. He reached up and took a firm hold of the pipe.
From her position near the end of the alley, Caellix waved her hand frantically, gesturing for everyone to drop. Serrel pressed himself into the shadows, his heart beating frantically. There were heavy steps. Very heavy steps. Then something walked past the alley along the street and briefly into view.
Serrel had a glance of something huge and solid, like a statue come to life. The veins along its bare arms were lines of glowing red, visible through flesh. It didn’t even slow in its steps, walking right past the alley without a glance, and disappearing from view. Two Ferine hurried in its wake.
The group stayed low and unmoving for several more moments. Then Caellix turned back and exchanged a glance with Snow.
Snow tapped Victor on the shoulder, and pointed upwards. Victor scaled the drainpipe rapidly, and disappeared over the eaves of the building. Many tense minutes later, his head head reappeared. He pointed at his eyes, then at them, and then up at the roof. Basically, You should see this.
Jurgen climbed up the drain pipe without a word. Caellix pointed at Brant, indicating he should climb up as well. She followed quickly after them. Serrel hesitated, then tapped Dhulrael on the shoulder.
“Hold this.” He passed the elf his staff. Dhulrael gave him a confused look as he took it. Then Serrel went to the pipe, and started to climb.
It was slick with water, but the supports were strong, and close enough that even Serrel, who was the first to admit he was not really the physical type, could climb it fairly easily. Caellix pulled him roughly over the eave of the roof, but didn’t give him a chance to catch his breath.
He followed her along the sloping and very slick roof, holding onto the gable for support. He passed by a dead Ferine as he went, its body slumped securely over the gable, blood trickling down with the rain. They walked across the roofs of at least three joined buildings until they reached the end of the row. There they crouched and looked out over the market square.
“So, do you all reckon this looks bad?” Victor asked casually.
The square was filled with Ferine, at least three dozen by Serrel’s rough count. There were a few more dotted about the rooftops surrounding the square, but all of them were staring riveted at events below, and didn’t see the group of interlopers.
The Illudin stood in the center of the square, beside an ornate water fountain. There was an elf beside it, lit red from the gruesome light of the Illudin. He was holding a staff, and addressing another elf kneeling before him. Neither appeared to be Ferine. In fact, both of them were dressed in quite refined clothing, apart from being soaked from the rain. Several more elves stood patiently nearby.
As the group watched, the standing elf and the kneeling supplicant appeared to have a conversation. It was impossible to hear their words over the sound of the rain, but it looked as if the head elf was asking questions, and the supplicant was answering.
Then the elf handed his staff to his kneeling companion, who stood up, and lifted the staff into the air. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, and the first elf said something to him, perhaps a word of encouragement. Or a threat.
The second elf thrust the staff skywards, and weaved the ether. An immense arc of energy shot from the end of the staff and discharged into the clouds above. It was like a huge bolt of lightning connecting the elf to the sky. Green arcs of crackling energy danced across the clouds, lighting up the city in green.
The weaving elf poured his energy into the sky, every last drop, and then collapsed onto the ground, lost in the Hollow.
The first elf pulled the staff from his weakened grasp, and then he placed one hand on the Illudin, and connected with it. The Illudin flared, but this time there was no uncontrollable release of energy, no huge beam discharging into the sky. The energy poured into the mage, filling him up to the point of destruction. He eyes became pools of fierce red light.
Then he dropped his hand onto the head of the second elf, and funneled the energy into him.
Serrel wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. The elf receiving the energy began to shudder and convulse. His flesh began to glow from within, his veins lighting up into long lines of red fire. Then he began to grown. His muscles increased in size before everyone’s eyes, tearing through clothes suddenly far too small. Even with the rain, Serrel thought he heard the cracking of bone.
It took several long, shocking minutes for the process to complete. Then the mage pulled his hand from the Illudin, and the flow on energy came to a halt. He stepped back on unsteady legs, and surveyed his work.
The kneeling elf stood upright, the remains of ripped clothing falling to the ground. He had nearly doubled in height, and his previously slender build was now a solid mass of bone and luminescent muscle. The rain began to steam as it landed on him.
Altogether, the Ferine howled their pleasure.
“In answer to your question, Vic,” said Brant. “No. That doesn’t look too bad. Why would you think so?”
“Just being paranoid I guess.”
“What just happened?” asked Caellix.
Below, the transformed elf flexed his new and impossible body, and walked off into the city, lighting up the night with his passing.
“To quote the patrician,” said Serrel. “This is only a theory. But I think this is like how they make Ferine. They’re emptying themselves of energy, to the point where they fall into the Hollow, and then they fill themselves from the Illudin.”
“We have that energy inside us, and we didn’t change,” said Victor.
“Yet,” said Brant.
“They must weave it in some way,” Serrel thought aloud. “They make it so that it changes them... Gods, I don’t know. A month ago the most difficult thing I had to think about was carving wooden cherubs. I’m not the damn expert.”
“At least they’re distracted,” Caellix put in. “Their guard is down. We might have a chance, if we take them by surprise.”
“We have to take the mage out first, before he can touch the Illudin,” said Jurgen.
“Fresh Meat can put a shield on it.”
“That didn’t go so well the first time,” Serrel said. “Can you shoot him from here, Brant?”
Brant thought about it. “From this distance, in the rain... I don’t know.”
“You’re the best shot we have, Brant,” said Caellix.
“Holly was the best. She would have made the shot,” Brant said dejectedly. “She was better than me.”
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“She’s gone. You’re here. You need to accept that. And then you need to take out that mage.”
Brant took a breath, then nodded.
“Fresh Meat, you stay up here with Brant,” said Caellix. “You drop the shield over the Illudin, Brant shoots out the mage.”
“We could use a distraction,” said Victor.
Serrel held up the seeking crystal. “This thing’s full of ether energy. It might make a nice bang if you break it. Just try not to be around when it goes off.”
“Throw it and run. Got you.”
“Wait until the mage finishes the... transformation,” Serrel suggested. “He looked vulnerable then.”
Caellix nodded. “Let’s go back.”
Serrel followed Caellix, Jurgen and Victor back to the alleyway. He waited while the three of them climbed down, then had Victor throw his staff up to him. He caught it, but lost his footing and nearly fell off the roof in the process. He kicked himself inwardly, then rejoined Brant at the edge of the roof.
“Fun times in the Legion,” muttered Brant, stringing an arrow onto his bow.
Serrel crouched low, and waited.
Below them, another elf came and knelt before the Illudin, and the ritual began all over again. When the supplicant finished releasing his own energy into the sky, and dropped down on all fours, Serrel lifted his staff in preparation, whilst Brant aimed an arrow at the mage.
With agonising slowness the elf was transformed into a glowing hulk, tearing through his clothes and increasing unnaturally in size.
“You’d think they’d just take their clothes off first,” noted Brant.
Serrel didn’t reply. He watched the transformation finish, as the mage broke the connection with the Illudin, and stumbled away from it. The Ferine roared as one.
Lost in the pouring rain was the twang of a bowstring. Out of the corner of his eye, Serrel thought he might have just made out a flicker of movement as an arrow, with an unnecessarily large head made of crystal, arced through the air, and came down in a group of Ferine on the far side of the square.
There was a sound, like the shattering of glass, just as a blinding explosion instantly vapourised at least three Ferine and sent several more flying through the air.
Serrel weaved his shield over the Illudin, at the same moment Brant released his arrow.
In the darkness it was impossible to track the flying missile, but Serrel saw the mage suddenly twist and fall to the ground, a wooden shaft stuck through his neck.
“That was for you, Hol,” muttered Brant.
In the ensuing chaos, the Hounds and the Nightblades entered the square. They had split into two groups, and approached from both streets, cutting down any Ferine that stood unprepared. There were multiple flashes that lit up the square, and sharp cracks audible over the rain. When Serrel looked down he saw Mouse moving towards the Illudin, firing at anything that moved, Caellix circling her, taking down any Ferine who got too close. Victor was with second group with Jurgen and Annabella. The three of them flowed gracefully across the cobbled square killing everything in their path.
The newly transformed elf stood to his full height, which was nearly double everyone else in the square. His body flared bright red when he spotted the Nightblades, and he charged straight at them. The three assassins broke formation, sliding apart and scattering from the amateurish rush, then closing back together again in a flurry of blades.
At the Illudin, Serrel’s shield was taking a beating, not just from Ferine, but from the heavy rain. Each drop was an added force hammering on his barrier and sapping his strength. Long lines of green traced in the air from rivulets of water running down its surface. Serrel saw two Ferine hurl themselves blindly at it, and bounce off. A third elf slid to stop next to it, and began weaving at the Illudin. He went down as an arrow struck him in the side. Another elf approached hands outstretched, and exploded as Mouse hit him with a blast of energy. She and Caellix came to a halt next to the crystal, and Caellix waved frantically to get his attention.
Serrel dispelled the shield, and saw Mouse make contact with the Illudin.
“Time to go,” he told Brant.
“One moment.” Brant sighted on a Ferine archer, hiding on a nearby rooftop, and shot him with a well placed arrow. “Gotcha, you pointy eared git. This way.”
Brant threw himself onto the slope of roof and slid down to the edge of the building. Somehow his feet hit the gutter, and he managed to stop his fall. Serrel didn’t bother to emulate him, on account of he didn’t want to die. He tried to slid down slowly, but lost his grip on the wet tiles and slid feet first towards the edge of the roof. Brant grabbed him at the last moment, and saved him from a three storey drop.
“Now we’re even,” Brant said.
Serrel didn’t answer. He looked past Brant and saw a red light on the street below. As it grew closer, he saw one of the previously made elf giants running towards the square, alerted by the sounds of battle. A group of Ferine ran behind it.
“Lean back,” Serrel snapped.
Brant flattened himself on the tiles as Serrel lifted his staff and began to weave. He pushed so much energy into the already rather beaten staff that it started to vibrate in his hands. When he released the ether energy, the bolt was so bright it illuminated the entire street. The elf giant looked up, just in time to see the bolt strike. It sent Ferine airborne, not all of them entirely in one piece, along with huge chunks of the street itself.
There was a wisp of smoke coming from the end of his staff afterwards. Serrel wondered if there was perhaps irreparable damage done to it. He hoped it would at least hold up until the end of the battle.
Brant inched his way along the roof, until he came to another drainpipe. With Serrel watching over him, he carefully climbed down to the street. Then Serrel dropped his staff down to him, and climbed down himself. His lost his grip on the way, and dropped the last six feet of so.
Brant helped him up, shaking his head. “How can someone as clumsy as you have been a carpenter?” he wondered. “How do you still have all your fingers attached?”
A low rumble cut off Serrel’s response. They two of them turned as the elf giant pushed himself out of the rubble of the street. He was missing his right arm, and a large chunk of his torso. The edges of his wounds glowed red, and dripped luminescent blood. When he saw the two, his eyes narrowed.
“Um,” said Brant. “Sorry?”
Then in one fluid motion, he drew an arrow and fired it at the giant’s face. The arrow passed through flesh and came to a halt when it hit the elf’s newly reinforced skull. It was a flesh wound at best, and the giant just stared at them irritably, before lifting his remaining hand and flicking out the arrow with one massive finger.
“Oh, bugger,” noted Brant.
The giant ran at them. Serrel grabbed his staff and fired at him. The bolt hit the giant in the leg, but barely even slowed him. Serrel and Brant threw themselves in opposite directions, as the giant’s arm came hurtling down. His fist narrowly missed Serrel, and smashed into the cobbled street, crushing a considerable section into rubble.
Serrel rolled into a crouch, and fired at the giant again. This time he put more energy into the bolt, and the impact hit the giant in the small of the back and knocked him onto his hand and knees.
Brant stepped in, sword in hand, and slashed at the giant’s eyes. The giant roared in pain, and clutched at his face, dropping himself to the ground. Serrel walk up to him, lifted his staff and fired a third time, point blank into his head. This time the giant didn’t get up.
The two of them ran into the square, where the fight had turned to the Legion’s favour, but it was absolute bedlam. They arrived just as a building on the far side of the square exploded into a ball of fire. Bolts of red energy flew through the air turning Ferine into ash. Mouse was apparently making use of the Illudin while she had the chance.
Serrel glanced to his left, and saw the Nightblades taking on another giant. They had it encircled, dashi
ng in and out of reach, and slicing at its flesh, but the creature refused to go down. Annabella attacked it from behind, slicing at its legs with her daggers. The giant spun, far faster than something that size could logically have moved, swinging a massive hand at her head. She ducked aside at the last minute, but the giant’s fist clipped her head and sent her spinning to the ground.
The giant moved to finish the job, but didn’t see Jurgen until the assassin had leapt at it head on, and plunged a short sword into its throat. The giant’s hands shot up and grabbed Jurgen around the waist. It squeezed.
Jurgen roared in pain through clenched teeth as the giant’s fingers speared into flesh. He twisted the blade, but the giant was wither oblivious or just ignoring its rapidly fading mortality.
Victor pulled another knife, this one long bladed and heavy, not really meant for throwing. But his arm snapped out, and he hurled the knife with all his strength, at the same time as he weaved a wave of force behind it. The knife shot through the air faster than a human being could have normally thrown it, and impaled the giant in the skull, up to the hilt.
The giant stood standing for a second, blank faced, then went limp and crumpled to the ground.
Victor and Annabella were pulling Jurgen from its grasp as Serrel ran up to the Illudin.
“It’s not working!” Mouse said aloud.
“Just keep shooting!” replied Caellix. “There on the left. Reinforcements. Take them out.”
Mouse pointed her staff at a group of Ferine charging into the square from another street, and fired at them. The blast of energy was huge and red, and missed them entirely. It exploded the building on the corner of the street and the square, and toppled bricks and masonry over the elves.
“Did you do that on purpose?” Serrel asked.
“Um... sure.”
“Stop blowing up buildings. There could be people inside.”
“Who cares?” snapped Caellix. “If we don’t block off access, the Ferine are going to be taking us on from all sides. There. Shoot out that building there.”
Mouse complied, exploding another building on the edge of the square so its rubble collapsed on the street and formed a makeshift barricade. There were five streets that accessed the the square, and she had blocked three of them. It was destructive, but seemed to work. Serrel thought Mouse would have been having fun, but she grimaced.