The Forgotten Tribe

by Stephen J Wolf

  Kallion’s forces approached and the king sat upon his horse, his armor damaged but still loaded with glittering, energy-deflecting gemstones. Confidence exuded from his poise and the hundreds of fighters behind him. He only needed to take down the last few mages and then the rest would be easy enough, for the fighters in his rebalanced envoy were of the highest skill in his land.

  “There is time for you to call off this folly,” the king shouted.

  Dariak’s jaw tensed and he shook his head, but he couldn’t speak. Randler saw the hesitation and he stepped up to respond. “You speak of folly, though you stand before the son of Delminor, the great mage who summoned the Colossus in the last war. You face us with the belief that your defenses can withhold against the power of the jades, but you will find yourself to be wrong. Call off your men and let us talk this through and find a resolution that wi—”

  “Attack!” Kallion shouted impatiently, having heard enough. The air filled with the sound of thunder as all the king’s fighters ran forth, swords flashing left to right.

  The companions gave each other one final look and nod. The four of them had been together on this journey since the beginning and today, they knew, it would come to an end. Sword, dagger, bow, and magic, the four turned to face the enemy and let the battle commence.

  Kitalla and Gabrion rushed in first, and the hundred fighters on their side followed enthusiastically. The thief bobbed up and down as she deflected one attack after another, her goal to slip through them all and reach the king once more. The combatants, however, pressed together too tightly, and her tactics failed. With a grown, she hunkered down and set to battling directly.

  Gabrion had no plan in mind except to keep Kitalla safe, thus he followed her and did his best to fill in any defensive gaps that arose because of her recent injuries. He reached in with his sword and smacked a soldier’s arm aside, then whipped around and belted the man in the face with his fist. Kitalla slipped aside and tripped one fighter, bringing her dagger’s hilt down on the back of his neck.

  To win the day, every person on their team needed to best at least seven others, but everyone was weary and Kitalla knew that most of the Hathrens would struggle to defeat even two. The rest would fall to the four companions.

  Randler’s bow sang with precision as he launched a host of arrows into the fray. The iron armor of the Kallisorians still deflected the majority of the attacks, but repeated hits made it difficult for the fighters to advance accurately. He continued filling the air with projectiles.

  Meanwhile, Dariak worked his magic to cut rifts in the ground and slow them down even further. He felt the urge to drop the soil down and then fold the fighters into the land, but that would surely kill them. With every spell he set loose, the urge to kill grew stronger as desperation set in. His fire darts blasted forward, burning holes in the iron breastplates and filling the air with screams.

  Kallion enjoyed the scene as the fighting raged about. His foes would easily be overwhelmed this day, but he decided to ensure their fate. He lifted his horn and blew it fiercely. Moments later, an echoed blast sounded in the distance.

  Another battalion hiding off beyond the plain jogged heartily into the battle, and they were not alone. The group arrived with a host of feral creatures that had been trained to fight alongside them and to viciously cut down their foes. The clanging of armor and shouts of pain were soon augmented by the howls of lupinoes and tigroars, among others.

  Dariak’s eyes widened and he let his current spell fizzle out, reaching into his robes and fumbling for the jades. They pulsed as he touched them and he closed his eyes, relying on Randler to defend him. He heard the bard draw his mace and strike back at an oncoming opponent. Dariak couldn’t help. He needed to unite the jades.

  The mage drew a deep and slow breath of air, reaching his essence downward into the shards arranged around his waist. He felt their energies rise up in anticipation, their tendrils of power hungering for this moment. He called to the earth jade to initiate the joining, then next to nature, and around the circle until he had tapped them all. And he brought his hands down and grabbed the unseen forces together, yanking them upward and gathering them into his mind, where he organized them into a whirling mass of light.

  His body tingled as the process started and he filled with terror, knowing his life would be torn from him, but determined to go ahead with it nonetheless. His ideals needed to live, even if he could not, and so he reached further and drew upon the jades with passion, pouring their strengths into him and preparing himself to reach out and stop the battle.

  And as he raised his hand upward, prepared to strike, he felt a ripping sensation in his mind, like parchment shearing in two. Crying out, he opened his eyes, feeling around for the cause, but there was none. Randler had defeated the foe and was holding off another attacker. The Hathrens tangled with fighters and beasts alike. Gabrion’s sword rose up and down, and he could even see Kitalla leaping and bounding about, her hands and legs flicking into the air as she battled.

  He turned his thoughts inward and he realized what had gone wrong. The jades were too drained from healing Kitalla and they didn’t have the strength to unite, even with his essence as the binding force. He lowered his hands and turned around in panic, for he had no chance now of putting an end to the fighting. They had come all this way and it was just going to end. Likely, Kallion would claim the jades as his own and he would take over the entire land and no one would be able to stop him.

  He wanted his anguish to end, but he saw an odd motion out of the corner of his eye and curiosity won out over despair. He turned and saw Astrith and the forest folk hurrying toward the trees off the northern end of the plain. Dariak dashed after them; perhaps Astrith could help him bring the jades together after all. At the very least, Dariak would coerce them to join the fight instead of hiding in the treetops!

  Sudden anger propelled him, wondering why Astrith had even come to this place at all if they were only going to cower. The fifteen forest folk reached the trees and they ran around behind them, escaping effectively from view. Dariak doubled his pace.

  As he reached the line of trees, Dariak shouted Astrith’s name in fury, challenging them all to come and defend the land. What he didn’t know was that Astrith and his fellows intended to do just that. The forest folk stood with their bodies pressed against the trees, eyes closed and looking asleep, for all Dariak could tell. Yet as he stood there, he felt a welling up of natural energy. He felt for the nature jade, but when he focused his thoughts, he realized it came from the others.

  The bodies of the forest folk slowly absorbed into the trunks of the trees, the massive boughs shaking in response overhead. Dariak watched in amazement as the bark melted somewhat and from the inside of the tree stepped tall, very treelike beings. His last encounter with such creatures had been a disaster but as he looked at them now, he finally understood. The forest people had donned the garb of the trees and had shaped their essences into those of triggans. He tried not to think of the ones he had defeated in the forest.

  The fifteen gangly figures stepped away from the trees and lumbered forward into the battle. The Kallisorians panicked, turning their swords upon them, but the blades were no match for the thick bark. The triggans stomped ahead and ignored them, turning their efforts on subduing the beasts that rampaged about. Sweeping branches struck into rodia, scattering them painfully. Root-like feet stomped and kicked into lupinoes, sending shrieks of dismay into the air. The lupinoes pulled back and regrouped, dodging Hathren blows in the process, then they coordinated an attack and focused upon one triggan at a time.

  Kitalla snickered as she thrashed about the battlefield on the back of a tigroar. The unfortunate beast had come for her and she had flipped onto its back after bashing it in the face. Since then, she had guided the poor creature by tugging on its thick fur. There was no shortage of men to bite, else the tigroar would have turned its focus upon its rider. They took down a dozen fighters until one Kallisorian re
alized the only way to end its stampede was to kill the beast. With a blow from behind, the young fighter stabbed into the tigroar, causing it to rear up and throw Kitalla. He then put the tigroar out of its misery.

  Dariak hurried back to Randler’s side. The bard was fighting wildly, his arms swiping through the air and bringing his mace about impressively. He moved as if his legs had never been crushed back in the forest, and only Astrith knew why, for upon his arrival, he had added extra enchantments to the living vines, giving them supple strength that conformed best to Randler’s body. When he had sent the crutches for the bard’s aid, Astrith had fashioned them from memory and had lacked the ability to perfect them until his impromptu visit the previous night.

  Whatever the reason, Dariak was vastly impressed with Randler as his cinnamon-hued hair whipped about with one strike after the next. Dariak reached into his pockets and resumed his spell-casting, hoping his mind would solve the jade issue while he worked.

  The battle continued onward and the Hathren forces were failing. Gabrion counted ten comrades fallen already, and they couldn’t afford to lose any more. He shouted in rage and scoured for a second sword. Grabbing one, he whirled the blades about, striking one foe after the next. Kitalla was out of his sight and so he turned his efforts toward her original goal, who sat high upon his horse, lance in hand, striking down at one enemy or another but keeping ultimately out of the main fighting.

  Fire exploded in the distance and Dariak gasped in horror. They were already overwhelmed with men and beasts. They couldn’t handle anything more. Thunder echoed in the air and Dariak looked up at the thick clouds, wondering if lightning would strike them all at random.

  The sounds of fire and lightning continued and shouts of panic followed soon after. Dariak glanced around for the rest of his companions, hoping they were aware of the new threat, but aside from Randler he had no way of notifying them. The bard finished his scuffle and turned a weary eye to Dariak. His skin was sliced in numerous places, sweat and blood oozing everywhere.

  Dariak cast a few healing spells on him and jumped when a massive bolt of lightning seared through the air and blasted into the ground, striking almost as harshly as the boulders had the day before. Another bolt shot down soon after and the screams of pain and panic erupted more wildly. Gabrion and Kitalla pulled back and made their way toward the others.

  Yet as he finished healing Randler’s larger gashes, Dariak noticed something odd. The lightning was taking down Kallisorians. Each strike was centered on a pack of fighters that was waiting for an opening to attack. The smell of charred flesh filled the air and added to the scent of ozone.

  Kitalla arrived and called aloud, “Dariak, it’s working! Keep at it.”

  Cackling laughter answered as a team of mages pushed through the combatants and appeared before them. “That’s not Dariak’s doing!” a familiar voice chortled.

  “Mother!” Randler gasped.

  Sharice laughed again, turning around and raising her arms up high, wiggling her fingers and then blasting them forward. Lightning emanated from her hands and lashed out at a team of Kallisorians, scattering them to the ground.

  Urrith trotted up behind her and his eyes went wide when he saw Gabrion. He rushed over and threw his arms around the big warrior. “You’re alive!”

  “It seems like you completed your task,” Gabrion noted.

  “About Ordren…” Urrith started.

  “He’s dead,” Gabrion finished.

  “Where are your mages?” Sharice demanded, cutting off further conversation. “You’re being slaughtered out here.”

  “Most are gone,” Dariak said. “And we’re trying not to kill anyone, so keep that in mind.”

  “Preposterous!” she balked, then gestured to Urrith. “This little upstart wasn’t exaggerating?”

  “Not at all,” Dariak replied quickly. “Too many have died already.”

  “Fine, whatever,” she scoffed. “Let’s get back to work then.”

  Eight mages turned their attentions back on the fighting, the tenor of their spells altered so as not to fatally harm anyone. Sharice delighted in her lightning blasts, though she reduced the amount of energy she drew for each one. Teaming up with Janning, the two lashed into pairs of fighters at a time.

  Fire and water spells littered the field, creating a hazy steam that added to the oppressive dankness of the sky. Another mage, Dresh, beckoned to darkness, casting blinding shadow clouds around whole sections of the battlefield, adding to the sheer chaos.

  Above it all, Kallion watched from his horse, growling. A set of ice darts headed for him but the spell dissipated long before it could reach him. Angry at the turn of events, he decided it was time to even the odds. He lifted the horn to his lips once again and blew out a staccato tone.

  More spells filled the air and the entire field overflowed with rampant energy. The added spells were not from Sharice and her pack, but from mages loyal to Kallion. The deliberations in the Mage Underground had split the mages in three. Those honoring the quest for peace had joined Sharice. Another sect had hurried to the king, offering their services so they could subdue the others. The final set of mages had remained underground, unwilling to reveal themselves or to involve themselves in such affairs.

  The dark sky flickered with spellfire. Dariak couldn’t even keep track of everything. He knew only that every advantage on his side was soon squandered by the Kallisorian king. With the jades depleted, he still wasn’t sure what would happen next.

  Randler took a sword slash to his arm and yelped in pain, smashing back sharply and accidentally killing the assailant. Dariak filled Randler with healing energy, after which the bard returned to the fray. Dariak tried to help the fallen fighter, but it was already too late.

  Kitalla turned her attentions to the lupinoes, which were still focusing their efforts on taking down the triggans. Three of the treelike beings had fallen and a fourth looked ready to keel over. Kitalla hurried over and intercepted one lupino’s attack, knocking the beast out of the air. The other creatures ignored her at first, focusing on their woodland prey, but when Kitalla slew one of the others, they reevaluated their target.

  Six lupinoes turned as one, red eyes burning with anger. Kitalla growled at them, daring them to even try to harm her. She pulled out two extra daggers, ready to throw them when needed.

  A triggan stepped in, swatting a lupino in its flank, causing it to howl angrily. Kitalla wasted no time. She rushed forward and pounced into the air, aiming for the back of one of the wolfish beasts. The creature saw her coming and it opened its jaw wide, flashing long, pallid teeth. Kitalla fed it one of her daggers, kicking its head as she came down.

  Two others leaped for her as she landed, and she barely escaped by rolling aside. The two beasts crashed into each other with a sickening crack. Kitalla drew knives up into their gullets, ending them. The remaining lupinoes pulled back, debating their next move. A triggan grabbed one, lifting it up high overhead and hurling it into the fighting nearby, where the creature intercepted an errant fireball spell and fell down dead.

  It was enough for the remaining lupinoes. They lowered themselves down on their haunches and scampered away.

  A hearty scream echoed nearby and Kitalla rushed over. Sharice lay on the ground, parts of her body covered in metal plates, the smell of burning hair unmistakable. “Stupid metal mage,” she hissed furiously, pushing off Kitalla’s offers for help. Kitalla saw burn marks on the metal pieces covering random parts of Sharice’s robes and she realized one of the mages had set them there, and then Sharice’s own lightning blasts had backfired. She was more stunned than damaged, and once the woman was on her feet again, Kitalla ran off to find Gabrion.

  Randler was slowing down as the fighting continued. He took more and more damage with each new fighter that appeared and Dariak was of little help to protect him. The mage had cast eighteen different sets of the Shield of Delminor on the bard and within moments, the spell was depleted from the incessant a
ttacks. Exhaustion was going to be their biggest downfall.

  Kallion’s forces continued to fight hard, but they were so numerous, they were able to pause between bouts and catch bits of rest. Over a hundred of them had been taken out of the fight either with deep injuries or unconsciousness and only about twenty had been slain, and mostly from Sharice’s entrance. Yet they still outnumbered the Hathrens five to one. As Kallion assessed the situation, he grinned to himself, for they were sure to hold their ground.

  Dariak separated himself from the fighting, turning his thoughts back to the jades. He closed his eyes and concentrated, reaching out and feeling their essences. He had hoped with all the rampant spellfire raging through the air, the jades would be able to draw that power in and be restored. Yet as he examined them, they hadn’t acted at all. He punched his fists together in annoyance and tried to coerce the shards to draw upon the energies, but they refused to obey.

  A pained cry drew his attention and he watched as a triggan toppled over, then struggled to rise again. Even the magic of the forest wasn’t strong enough for the sheer willpower of the Kallisorian king. The top of the tree-creature rose up and shook, shedding leaves as it did so. The fallen pieces littered the ground and burned like acid to anyone who stepped upon them. The triggan then made its way to Dariak and fell to its knees.

  As he watched, the woody being softened, losing its bark exterior to flesh. It shrank in height, the mass condensing to the proper proportions of man. When the transformation was complete, Astrith lay in an exhausted heap, naked and wounded. “There is little else I can do.”

  “I feel the same,” Dariak complained. “I can keep casting the same spells to delay the inevitable, but I’m running out of time. And now the jades won’t even respond.”

  “It is still your wish to unite them,” Astrith said. “The land may not thank you for it.”

  “What choice do I have? We can’t even pull away from this battle now. Kallion is too convinced of his victory. If we flee, he will hunt us down and slay us; I’m sure of it.”