Authors: Jacob Cooper
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic
She launched from the falling Alysaar to another and was nearly struck by a thick arrow sailing toward her. Reign knocked
the arrow from the sky and landed on the new beast. After quickly dispatching the rear rider’s head, she reached down to the joint where the wing and body met. She pulled, sending more Light into her muscles. Thannuel added some of his reserves. The flying monster screamed and the wing came free. They went into an uncontrolled spin and she deftly jumped off, landing softly on the sturdy canopy just before the crippled mass crashed.
Arrows shot upward toward other flying targets. Reign traced the trajectory with her eyes and found the small girl, launching arrow after arrow, undaunted. Her accuracy was impressive. The girl was younger than Reign had been when she witnessed what she now knew would be the beginning of the path her life would take. She wondered for an instant about the future of this young archer.
Reign sprinted, gaining speed as the air around her once again began to glow. A boom echoed as she took flight, moving too fast for gravity to have its full effect. Dozens of Borathein lay in her path. In less than ten heartbeats they were in her wake, burning, breaking and falling from her attacks. When she landed on the canopy, she was exhausted. A shiver came upon her that she struggled to control but failed.
Your Light is spent, Reign. All that you took in and all my reserves
.
“I’m so cold,” she said. Her lips quivered. “I can’t stop shaking.”
It’s your adrenaline. Your body is trying to warm itself. The cost of your exertion will be high, my daughter
.
A streak of panic ran through her. “I’m too weak to draw in any Light. I need time to rest.” She knew there was no time.
I must reach Hedron!
she screamed in her mind. She felt his current and knew all was not well.
Reign watched the battle as she lay on her back looking up into the morning sky, fighting against hypothermia. The Gyldenal were taking down their enemies with efficiency. Reign thought the number of Alysaar remaining was less than a thousand. All around her the trees bore strange fruit, not only foreign but domestic—Borathein and Arlethian. The amount of lost life pained her.
It is what must be, daughter
, Thannuel said, knowing her thoughts.
“Yet it still hurts.”
Always. The correct path is always fraught with difficulty and trials
.
The sky was painted orange and deep blue as the morning increased and the storm clouds abated. And with that abatement, Reign saw the Borathein aerial battery retreat.
Evrin found her where she lay.
“You are pale, child. And your frame, it shakes.”
“Cold,” she gasped.
“Light is heat as well, young Reign. You will learn your limits. It appears as though you expended some of your own life’s Light, your core, in your efforts. This can be very dangerous.”
“Hedron,” she replied. “I must go to him.”
Evrin looked grave. “I feel his current as you do. You cannot go to him. Your part here is done for now.”
“Please, you must be able to do something, Evrin! Please!”
“Once, I was eager as you are now. Also prideful. I let myself be carried away in my own greatness—or what I viewed as my own greatness.” He touched the wound on his cheek. “It almost ended me, but I was spared. In truth, my motives were not pure, as yours are. Yet, I fear nonetheless for you should you continue right now. The price will be too high.”
“Evrin, please! He’s my brother! I don’t care what happens to me!”
The old Light Shepherd was silent for some time. Reign continued to shiver as her core temperature dropped further. She felt her father’s ambivalence as he struggled with Evrin’s warning and the desire to go to the aid of his only son.
“Please,” Reign whispered between blue lips.
“So be it,” Evrin said.
The forest changed back. Rock became soft, fertile soil under Hedron’s feet and trees returned to their natural lush state. He
did not understand the change but did not care. The courage this gave his people who desperately fought on the ground against overwhelming odds knew no bounds. They pressed upon the Borathein with their thin lines of nothing but militia. And, as they pressed, the Borathein were moved backward. It wasn’t the honed skills of lethal Arlethian warriors that now stood pressing back the vile conquerors; it was the farmer, the fisher, the carpenter, the merchant, the shepherd, the weaver, the healer, the husband and wife, the son and daughter. They cried with valor and
pushed
until the dead of their enemies masked the ground they stood upon. There was strength running through Hedron that he did not recognize but accepted all the same. Huksinai and Thurik struggled to keep up with him as he progressed farther into the horde of enemies. The wolf cubs bit and tore through flesh of every leg, groin and abdomen they could reach, weaving through the horde and causing confusion followed by pain.
Suddenly by Hedron’s side came Gernald, striking with his sword and shoving with his shield. Other soldiers from the south rushed the line, adding their steel and shields to the effort.
“We apologize for our moment of weakness, My Lord!” Gernald shouted.
“Lord Hoyt?” Hedron asked.
Gernald shook his head. Hedron knew his fiancé’s father was dead but had held hope for some miracle. A howl sounded from the north that was joined by dozens more.
“I know that howl,” Lord Kerr said and smiled. Hedron scaled a tree to gain a vantage point and saw through the trees three-quarters of a league north of the confrontation a large pack of wolves with coats of gray, black and brindle, led by a large, pure white wolf.
“I never thought I would be so happy to see that furry beast!”
The wolves tore into the backs of the Borathein. Too few had sounded the alarm to form a rear defensive line but Hedron knew it would have mattered little. The cries from the wolves’ victims added to the music of battle, and Hedron’s front continued to
push. Their progress was slow and the Borathein fought viciously; but for every Arlethian or one of Hoyt’s men that was struck down, a dozen Borathein fell.
Hedron felt something distinct through the tree upon which he perched. It was the stride of a wood-dweller coming from the west across the apex of the trees.
Hedron!
The voice was clear, as if the word had been spoken aloud next to his ear. It was Reign’s voice, but it had come from the forest, from the trees.
Move, Hedron!
The urgency of the command struck the chords of apprehension within him. New beads of sweat surfaced on the nape of his neck, tickling his already soaked and soiled skin.
“Pull back!” he shouted in his amplified voice. “Pull back now!”
There was no hesitation from the Arlethians but the southern forces pressed forward. Huksinai and Thurik barked and snapped as they retreated from the throngs.
“Gernald, pull your men back!” Hedron jumped from his vantage point roughly thirty feet to the ground and hit silently. Sprinting to Gernald, he whirled the master of the hold guard around and spoke urgently.
“Something is coming! Pull your men back now!”
“But we are pressing them, Lord Kerr! We must not cease!”
“You will cease, Master Gernald! If you value the lives of your brave men, pull them back!”
Gernald looked aghast but nonetheless obeyed. “Move back!” he commanded. “Move to the Arlethian line and regroup! Move back!”
The southern soldiers capitulated and retreated to where the Arlethians had formed a new line a few score paces back. The Borathein were utterly confused by this move but did not hesitate to advance and regain their lost ground. Before they took more than a few steps, a howling whistle filled the air followed by a streak of light that traveled from the tops of the trees west of them and down through the forest like a meteor. It struck in the very center of the Borathein army.
Reign catapulted herself downward through the air like an arrow shot from the bow of a god. There was the crack in the air again and sound fled from her until she hit the ground in the middle of her enemies.
“Welkaira!”
she shouted as her humming blade sank into soil to the hilt. The shockwave went out from her in all directions, throwing large men and trees scores of paces as pollen before a mighty wind. Bones were shattered and limbs separated from torsos. She did not hesitate to strike again and shot forward into another mass of Borathein, sending out another shockwave with the same devastating effect. She repeated it a third time, clearing large sections of the Arlethian forests. Finally, the Light within her was nearly expended and she felt weary again but stopped herself before spending her own core Light.
When Reign stood, a crater of rippled ground surrounded her. She did not need to gaze about her surroundings to see the mayhem she had just wrought upon the Borathein, for she felt the death in their currents before they ceased to flow. Skin shone through her dress in many places that was quickly being reduced to rags from so much physical abuse. She was actually surprised any thread still covered her. A shoulder was exposed, as was much of her back, the tattered material having given way under the stress.
A circular perimeter of nearly thirty feet devoid of anyone or anything, save for an unnatural recessed meadow of soil and tree stumps, surrounded her. The number of Borathein who had just left this world from her brief volley of attacks was nearly nine thousand.
Outside the edge of her cratered perimeter, men started to move. Some regained their feet, others remained on the ground, holding wounds or searching for missing extremities. Slowly, the Borathein realized what just happened. Fear flowed in their currents.
Hedron came to Reign’s side.
“That’s new,” he said. “And it’s about time.”
His sister smiled at him and gave him a warm hug.
“Father is so proud of you, Hedron. I feel it inside.”
The boy lord looked at his sister for a long moment. “I wish he were here.”
“Oh, he’s not far.”
“We’ve still got some problems to deal with,” Lord Kerr said, looking at the tens of thousands of Borathein still around them.
“I’m not so sure.” She stepped forward, exiting her crater.
Hundreds of Gyldenal dropped from the trees above them and landed around Reign. They wielded their infused weaponry and were poised to attack. The hum emanating from their armaments caused a small stir among Borathein, Senthary, and Arlethian alike. Reign began to draw in the Light of the trees around her as her sword joined the chorus. Aiden was among them.
“I believe, that is your cue, Lord Hedron.” It felt strange for Reign to address her brother as Lord
Kerr
. She still reserved that title for her father.
“Surrender,” Hedron demanded. It might have appeared a curious setting to an uninformed observer, the few demanding the many to yield.
“Surrender and you will not be destroyed,” he assured them. No one on either side moved. “You must cease your attack! We will not fall this day! Surrender and live.” Still no one moved.
Reign felt their approach with Crimson Snow through the crowd.
Jayden. Evrin
. Crimson growled, parting the soldiers on both sides for the Gyldenal leaders.
Evrin looked pale and leaned heavily on Jayden and his staff for support. His stride was labored as he walked.