A moment of shocked silence was broken by the sound of Arwen’s shaky, gurgling breath.
“Arwen!” Willow caught the young woman as she collapsed, “No, no no!” she cried in desperation as her holding gem glimmered, and a clean piece of cloth appeared in her hand. She pressed it against the young woman’s chest.
“Take cover!” Captain Rianne shouted.
Her voice pulled Midhir out of his shocked daze. “Crystal tools…” he whispered. “They’re working again!”
“To me!” Alistair shouted, the blue gem embedded in his spear glowing brightly. “Midhir, heal her! We’ll handle this!” Particles of water appeared around his spear, they conjoined, turning into weaves of water floating around him. He pointed towards the source of the arrows with his spear, and the water rushed there, like a raging river.
It’s volume grew as it rushed, it hit the tree trunks, splashed against the terrain, and washed away the dead leaves and mounds of dirt before reaching their assailants, hitting them with force.
Screams echoed, followed by the sound of arrows flying in the air.
Willow touched the hilt of her rapier, winds circled around her, Arwen and Midhir, protecting them from the rain of arrows.
Midhir reached for his earring. He caught its glimmer with the corner of his eye as a golden gem appeared between his fingers. It was as small as his nail.
“Hold her still.” He hissed as he prepared to pull out the arrow from Arwen’s chest. It wasn’t a barbed arrowhead, so removing it was relatively easy, albeit not painless. “Sorry, Arwen.” He whispered before pulling the arrow out and throwing it aside.
Arwen’s body shook violently, her nails dug into the earth and scratched against the roots of these old trees. A scream escaped her tight jaw.
As blood gushed from her wound violently, he pressed the golden gem against it. “Help me, I need your power.”
Willow nodded, her hand rested on his as spiritual power flowed into the gem. He directed his own power but felt no tired than before. Willow directed the spiritual power all around them into the golden gem, sparing him from the usual exhaustion that set in after casting a resonance.
The wound began to close, and a pained wail escaped Arwen’s lips. Half conscious, she clenched her jaw, her hands caught the roots protruding from the ground as the wound continued to heal.
He wished she was unconscious. At least she wouldn’t have felt all this pain.
Distant screams and sounds of combat reached his ears, but he ignored them.
Stolen story; please report.
“You’re ok,” he heard Willow whisper with a catch in her voice. She raised her gaze to meet his. “We can’t have her fight after this. We need to retreat.”
Midhir blinked once. Despite the losses they suffered, they still had a mission to complete. An innocent man was kidnapped by these people and dragged deeper into these accursed woods.
“We’re not done here,” his voice grew cold. “But we need to arrange something, there are too many wounded, and even more dead.” He raised his gaze from Arwen and looked around. The dead and dying were all over the place.
He lowered his gaze again, watching the wound almost completely close. He stopped feeding the resonance and gave the gem to Willow. “She’ll live, but if we don’t help them, they won’t.” He pointed towards the wounded soldiers, scattered around them. “You’re strong enough, you can heal them. Alistair and Captain Rianne need help – if they fall, it won’t matter who we heal.”
“But Arwen-“ Willow protested.
“She’s not in mortal danger anymore. Leave her and help the others!” He snatched his sword from the ground where he had dropped it, and dashed away, to the battle taking place not too far away. As much as he wanted to stay by Arwen’s side, there was no point – they were outnumbered, and he couldn’t let the heir of the Orlein house die.
As he crossed the threshold between the new growth and the old growth, the air around him grew thicker and heavier. An almost sweet scent reached his nostrils as he leapt over the bulging roots, and ducked under the thick, almost black vines hanging from the branches.
He spotted Alistair and Captain Rianne almost immediately. They, and four of the remaining soldiers were surrounded by almost twice the number of cloaked assailants.
He kicked the ground, rushing towards the cloaked figure closest to him. The figure didn’t notice him approach and let out an abruptly ending scream as he dug his blade into his back. Midhir pulled his sword out, letting the lifeless body collapse, and tugged at the thread of spiritual power within.
His blade burst into flames as he felt a slow drain to his power. He contained the flames, allowing only a fraction of his power to flow into the augment embedded into the hilt of his sword. The flames burned brightly, lighting up his surroundings, turning him into a beacon – a target to shoot at, an enemy to chase.
Alistair’s grim expression lit up. “Charge! To the light!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. Water flowed in the air, hitting his opponents like a dragon’s tail, sending them flying deeper into the woods. Captain Rianne’s blade struck her opponent’s throats and hearts, she cut through the now surprised crowd with ease.
Midhir readied his blade as some of the cloaked figures turned to face him. He tightened his grasp on the hilt of his blade, planted his feet firmly on the ground, and lowered his body slightly.
The assailants soon reached him. He blocked the overhead strike swung towards him, then stepped back, keeping his opponents between him and the direction the previous arrows were shot at. They wouldn’t risk hitting their own allies. Probably. He hoped so, at least.
His blade crossed with his opponent’s, they remained still for a moment, trying to throw each other off balance. The flames burning on his blade illuminated what lay beneath his opponent’s hood, revealing a simple, white mask, and a pair of brown eyes behind it.
Rage boiled within. These people had kidnapped an innocent person, killed so many guards, burned down part of Bareon, and nearly killed Arwen. They deserved no mercy.
He let his power flow into the augment of his blade. The flames burst out, leaping towards the masked man, clinging on his face, his torso, his arms, and legs. Screams of agony filled his ears, they echoed across the old growth.
He turned his attention to the other masked and cloaked men. His flames returned to him as the burned man finally stopped struggling, they roared behind him like a rising serpent.
Then, he dashed forward.