Goodbye, he said to Melissa, taking one last glance at his old companion. They had known each other for over a millennia, and it now occurred to him just how ignorant he’d been of the woman he claimed as a friend.
She didn’t look at him, but he got the vague impression that it was past time for them to leave. The conversation was growing intense and he could sense that they weren’t happy about just letting them go, their Queen’s say so or not.
“We need to hurry,” he told the warriors before him and they did their best to pick up the pace. They had already ventured quite some ways without a chance at rest, and the armor they were laden with was not meant for prolonged retreats.
He rushed to the front in order to lead them through the correct passages, leaving the dwarf to cover their flank. “It’s getting’ looder back thaur,” Riska told them and he quickly led them down a narrow passageway to the right. It wasn’t quite the route they had taken in, but it had the most promising outcome for getting them back out alive.
We have strict laws against intruders into our realm and even as Queen, I am forced to abide by them. I am stalling as long as I can, but you must hurry.
“No shit,” Merlin cursed as he hung another right and led the group further into the darkness and away from the screams of fury echoing through the caves behind them.
The Dark Elves were coming for them.
III
“Okay, that is the tenth time you failed to cast this spell, and even a novice could do it with their eyes closed. Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Revan asked, eyes blazing.
It was true, it was a spell that she had mastered when she was just a young girl, there was absolutely no reason she shouldn’t be able to do it now, but her mind was plagued with the words of that young sprite and she found it difficult to concentrate on even the simplest of things.
“We are supposed to be working on the book, not teaching you everything from scratch,” the druid muttered, and she lowered her eyes from his, doing her best not to snap back. “Look, whatever we do here,” the druid motioned to the chamber they were using, “it stays between us. If there is something bothering you, then I need to know what it is so we can both work at moving past it.”
She considered his words carefully. She hadn’t wanted to tell Tristan because she knew how he’d react; he’d want to leave immediately despite his early protestations and if what the sprite said were true, then she could no longer allow that. Still, it would feel good to tell someone, to unburden her soul and say it all out loud. “You know how that sprite, Shirl, requested to speak with me alone?” she started softly, eyes drifting away, unable to meet the compassionate glare of the blue haired druid.
“I do,” he answered simply, refusing to push, even though his chiseled features showed his eagerness to know more.
She sighed heavily. “She told me that she’d been sent here by this Spirit Mother of hers in order to better prepare me for a choice I’m going to have to make.” Tears were beginning to form again, and she forced herself to take a deep breath and try to calm her emotions before they overwhelmed her. This pregnancy was making her overemotional and even the slightest thing could throw her into a crying fit. Not that this wasn’t worth every tear shed.
“I see,’ the druid responded, shifting his gaze towards a nearby window, his eyes drifting as if not really seeing anything. It reminded her of how Merlin looked when he searched the future timelines for a path for them to take and goosebumps rose on her arms. “Did she tell you what this choice was going to be?”
“Yes,” Willow choked, unable to give it voice, even though her heart urged her to do so. Forcing another strangled breath, she plunged ahead, no longer able to hold it in. “During the upcoming battle, there will come a time when I must choose whether or not to give my life in exchange for that of Erik and Amysta’s daughter Bella. By doing so, I will ensure that we all have a chance at survival, but if I don’t, we will all die.”
Revan’s head snapped her way. “What?”
“I know, crazy, right?” she blurted with a quick laugh, wiping her face clear of tears. It all seemed insane to her, even now. She was going to be responsible for every living soul? Her? It was a burden that she did not want and as she put a hand on her stomach, her soul cried with fresh bouts of tears.
“You mean, Bella is coming here? And you’re supposed to give your life to save hers?” the druid pursued with renewed vigor. “When? How?”
She sniffed but couldn’t breathe, her nose had filled with snot. Taking a handkerchief out of her pants pocket, she used it to clear her airway as she shook her head. “All she could tell me is that it’ll happen at some point during the battle. The when is unclear because the choice of when to attack has yet to be made.”
“What of the baby?” Revan asked with concern, eyes drifting to the hand sliding softly across her waist.
She shook her head again, feeling the emotional turmoil she’d been experiencing rise in full force, threatening to break her in two. “I don’t know if she’ll be born by the time this happens. I may not be just making this choice for me, but for her as well.”
“That’s—,” Revan began.
“I know,” she cut in. “That’s why I can’t tell Tristan. If he knew, he would force us to leave. He will forget any oaths he’s made and will do whatever it takes to make sure that I’m not here when this battle begins.”
The druid shook his head. “And you don’t want that?”
“Of course I do!” she snapped. “It’s not like I have much of a choice!”
Revan leaned forward. “You always have a choice, we all do. You can’t be the only one that can make this sacrifice, there has to be another way. Maybe Nimue gave you this book to help you find a path that doesn’t end with your death! That’s why it’s so important for us to study it, to work hard at mastering its mysteries, because somewhere within these ancient pages may be a spell that will prove to be your salvation!”
She shook her head. “Don’t you think if there were, this Spirit Mother would’ve mentioned it? Don’t you think I’ve told myself the same thing? That I’ve tried to give myself some slight bit of hope? It’s just not going to happen!”
He leaned over and grasped her hand. “Don’t give up. I will work with you on this, for as long as it takes. We will find a way through together, without anyone having to die in the process.”
Choking back another sob, she nodded her head, yet still she couldn’t help but feel doom descend upon her. It was excessively hard to work through, and the one person she wanted to share this with she couldn’t. There was no way he’d understand, and the stakes were too high to do anything but stay and see it through.
“Come on, let’s work on some meditation techniques, work at quieting your mind and restoring the peace that this sprite has shattered. Only when we are able to do that will you be able to summon your magic once more and begin the process of healing,” the druid explained, eyes making sure that hers found his and felt what he was saying in her core.
“Okay,” she sobbed after a few seconds. “Let’s do it.”
Chapter 19
Visions
I
Tristan found himself standing in a large field facing an overly large orc, with no clear memory of how he got there or why. Instinctively, he reached for his sword, but there was nothing there. Patting his side and his back a sickening feeling formed in his stomach as he realized that he was unarmed, and his adversary knew it.
The orc twisted his axe thoughtfully in hand and grinned even wider. “Puny human die now,” the creature growled and advanced confidently, raising his axe in preparation to strike.
His heart was hammering in his chest and he forced himself to calm down. He reached down, as if giving into his fate, clenched a fist full of dirt, and then flung it into the surprised orc’s face. Without pause, he lowered his shoulder and barreled into his attacker before he could recover. With several strikes of his gauntleted fist, he struck the
creature at the weak points in his armor. The orc struggled in his grasp as he drove him intentionally to the ground. Reaching up, he dug his armored thumbs into the orc’s eyes, the creature howling in horrible agony.
The shaft of the axe struck him on the side of the head and he was momentarily dazed, but he fought against it with all that he was; refusing to submit. Knocking the axe aside with his elbow, he reached down with his hands and latched onto the orc’s mouth. With as much strength as he could muster, he began to pull the orc’s jaw apart. The shaft struck him several more times in the shoulder, but he ignored it. With a savage howl, he put everything he had on driving his hands away from each other and heard a satisfying breaking of bone as he separated the orc’s jaw from his head. He released it, made a fist, and drove his hand into the blinded orc’s skull and ended the battle in an instant.
Rising to his feet once more, he hovered over the corpse of his attacker and watched stoically as the legs began to twitch in the last throes of death. He reached down and snatched the large battle axe. It wasn’t what he was used to, but it was better than relying on just his fist should another attacker appear.
A roar erupted in the distance and he turned to see that an orc party had noticed the battle and was rushing his way. Testing the balance of the axe, he found it lacking, but with it being the only weapon he had, he had no other choice but to make it work.
There were eight orcs spreading out as they approached, each foaming at the mouth for the chance to get at him, their fury rolling off of them as they occasionally glanced down at their fallen comrade.
He didn’t wait for them to close on him as he hefted the axe over his head and flung it straight at their leader. The axe buried itself in the orc’s head and he twisted around, slamming the nearest foe with his fist. Ducking a swing of another axe, he tumbled forward and wrenched his weapon free of the corpse he’d just made.
He blocked another blow with the shaft of the axe and felt the weight of impact thrum its way up his hand. He thrust his weapon up, used the butt to whack the attacker across the face, then swung the weapon around and cleaved off the head of the closest orc. A pike flew past and he reflexively grasped it with his offhand, then brought the axe down on its shaft, cleaving it in two. Reaching down, he gripped the broken end and used it to fend off the next blow aimed at his head. Shoving it upward, he drove the orc off balance, then whipped around and buried his axe in the creature’s chest.
With a roar, he dashed forward and drove the pike straight through the head of another, while yanking his axe free and cleaving it through the neck of an oncoming attacker. He rolled, and in doing so, freed both his weapons and brought them to bear on the final three.
The orcs looked at him wearily, then at their comrades lying dead at their feet. The fight had lasted a mere minute and they lost more than half their party. Pausing to consider their options, they each made a quick decision and he wasn’t surprised when they turned and ran. He had a momentary thought of chasing them down and burying his axe in their backs, but he decided it was best to let them go. There was no honor in it.
The ground thundered at his feet and he turned to see four knights racing his way, a horse in tow. “Hurry, get on!” the knight pulling the free horse yelled at him as they drew near. “The enemy is hard on our heels!”
He accepted the reins of the offered horse and swung himself up, throwing the broken pike to the ground. Attached to his saddle bags were a sword and a shield. He tossed the bloodied axe in the direction of the fallen orcs and began attaching the shield to his arm. Satisfied, he kicked the flanks of his stead and pulled Purity free, the sword singing as it soared into view.
The four knights launched themselves forward, but he paused momentarily to glance to the rear before joining them. He nudged his horse and sped after his comrades. Fifty or so of the enemy were mounted and riding hard in pursuit, they’d be overtaken in minutes unless things drastically swung in their favor. “Where are the others?” he asked the knight by his side, encouraging his horse to go even faster.
“We are all that’s left,” the knight on the left answered, fear festering in his eyes.
He glanced over his shoulder once more and knew that they would only be able to run for so long; their enemy was determined to run them down. Taking a hard look at the terrain ahead he saw that they were fast approaching a cliff side. There was a narrow passage that ran along the cliff’s edge and the other knights were already steering that way. The thunder of pursuit was growing louder and as he approached the passage, he pulled back on his reins, dismounted, and ushered the horse through the trail ahead without him.
One of the knights pulled up on his reins and twisted to look at him. “What are you doing? We need to keep moving!”
“Take the other two and go! These fiends will chase us long after our horses are foaming at the mouth and falling over dead. The only chance you have is if someone stays back and gives you time to get away,” he yelled, preparing himself for battle.
“That’s insane! You can’t take fifty of them alone!” the knight argued, the other two pulling up to see what was going on.
He gestured at the passage around them. “This is only wide enough for two men to walk side by side, it’ll limit how many can come at me at once. I’ll keep them busy as long as I can, give you time to get away. Now get going!”
“And let you have all the fun?” the knight asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Have you both gone mad?” the furthest elf asked, and he simply laughed.
“Looks like. Don’t waste time talking to us mad men. You need to put as much distance between us as quickly as you can. Warn the king that the army has fallen. He needs to know our flank has been exposed!” he thundered to the nearest horsed knight, who nodded with a grim smile upon his face. The two knights nudged their mounts forward and disappeared around a bend in the passage.
His last remaining companion had dismounted, sent his horse after the others and unsheathed his weapon.
“You should have gone with them,” he muttered as the enemy closed on their position.
“Now how could I let you be all heroic on your own?” the elf countered. “If a song is going to be sung, let it be about us both and not just you. Or are you just in this for the glory?”
He grunted, tightening his grip on his shield. “The only glory I know is in the embrace of my wife and smile of my daughter. There is no glory in death, only what must be done to save as many lives as possible with what little time you have.”
“It’s been an honor,” the knight told him grimly and nodded with respect.
“The honor is mine,” he replied, then stepped forward and sliced his way through the first of the attackers.
II
Tristan burst to his feet, his hand flying to his chest. He was sure that it should be covered in blood. His neck had just been sliced open by an enemy weapon and he’d felt his lifeblood pumping free of his body. “What the fuck?”
Gareth chuckled. “Always like that the first time. I’m surprised you haven’t vomited yet.”
Bile was indeed rising up his throat; he gulped and did his best to keep it down. It burned its way down to his stomach and he forced a burp to relieve some of the pressure. “That was just a dream?”
“Not quite,” Owain responded, eyes coming into focus. “More of a scenario of my own creation playing out within your mind, spectated by your two fellow knights for evaluation.”
“What? I thought you were just going to go through my memories and try to find out how much I knew. I didn’t know you were going to do something like that!” he snapped, adrenaline was still pumping through his veins and he had to begin taking slow measured breaths in order to get a hold of his rage.
Pendoran sipped his wine, then reached for a nearby platter for a piece of bread. “The best way to gauge your abilities is to see you in action. Obviously, how we act in combat differs than how we would against an opponent that doesn’t mean you any real harm. Your
actions tell us more about you, than your skill with a sword can.”
“So, you kill me to see how I will handle it?” he pursued, his anger still hadn’t dissipated yet.
“Essentially. The test had multiple stages and as you completed each, you went on to a more difficult one. You handled one, so you got eight, you handled eight, so you got fifty, and so forth,” Gareth explained in earnest. “Had you defeated the fifty, you would’ve faced three hundred.”
“Are you insane? How can one man take on three hundred blood thirsty orcs?” he asked in wonder.
Pendoran leaned forward and poked him in the head. “By using this. I don’t usually tell a candidate how they did right away, I like to confer with my colleagues first, but as I can see from their faces that they are in agreement with what I’m saying, I’ll just cut to the chase. Your handling of the single orc was well done. You didn’t panic or try to run. You improvised and went immediately on the offensive, catching the creature unawares. You didn’t try to wrestle away his weapon, instead you used the ones already available to you, your own two hands,” the elf began, his voice sincere with admiration.
“Similarly, you didn’t wait for the orc party to close in on you, you immediately threw yourself into battle, even giving up your sole weapon in order to achieve a first strike advantage. You showed improvisation with the pike and fought fast and violently enough that it forced the last three to flee out of panic. Had you shown any reservations or a calmer demeanor, they wouldn’t have fled but pursued you relentlessly until they were dead, or you were. And while I’m impressed that you saw the canyon for what it was, I’m disappointed with the outcome. It was valiant of you to sacrifice yourself to save the others, and it even inspired one of the other knights to join you in death, but was that your only option?” Pendoran asked him, eyeing him closely.
The New Age Saga Box Set Page 75