De’Vorah woke up with a start. The sky was dark, the tent flaps of the camp rustling from a chill breeze. In the cot next to her, Tilly slumbered with a peaceful expression on her face. At first the Elarrian wondered what had awakened her. She pulled up the hood of her cloak and went out.
As far as the eye could see was a vast and silent forest, and in the distance gray, snow-capped mountains. A short length from the camp was the only break in the scenery, a round, silver superstructure which radiated swirling blue light. The foreign delegation and their guards, led by an Elarrian named Menon of great height with a commanding presence, had about an hour ago exited the structure without any incident.
She and Tilly had stood at attention near the back, with the other trainees, and she had inclined her head at any highborn that passed near her, as was custom. Her fellow trainees, like her leopard-eared squad member Wendy—Anima had strange names—had whispered among themselves that it was even more boring than the running drills Instructor Evelyn put them through.
For their part, the party from the Nation of Elar, fair-skinned, pure blond-haired, and in flowing silken dresses or cloaks trimmed silver and gold, regarded the Rangers and their apprentices with haughty politeness. They were mostly highborn and kept their distance, guarded as they were by a circle of the famed Bluecoats.
The Elar civilians studied the faces underneath the frontmost Rangers, seeming either amused or disappointed at the mix of Anima, humans, highborn, and lowborn Elarrians making up the squads.
“Ah, it is as disorderly as I have heard,” one of them commented in Elarri.
“At least, they will have numbers to replenish their reserves if they do not perform well,” another murmured. “The Anima are skilled in war, but they do not seem to care for the natural order. Even with their magic arts, the lowborn will never reach the mind-sense and harmony of the higher families.”
“Enough,” Menon had told them sternly. “Do you forget? We do not own the rich forests of De’ren anymore, nor may we count the rushing rivers by Mirith to provide for us. Trade is essential to our continuation. We are here to work together with the rulers of the Kingdom.”
The military Bluecoats stood proud in their resplendent brass-buttoned clothing and armor. They clutched the rods of their glistening metal Ka’qiang tight, and gazed at the Rangers with either expressionless faces or self-controlled scorn. De’Vorah knew why. Whoever founded the Ranger program had chosen their cloaked outfits to mirror the Bluecoats, with a similar color but none of the ornamentation, a decidedly plain look. She silently cursed the designer for making her feel looked down upon by the very group she once aspired to join.
By sending the Rangers, the message from the King was clear, even without words: the High Race was considered worth the Kingdom’s attention. The Rangers would defend Elarrians who chose to live in the Anima Kingdom, but in the way of the Anima—with the races unified as one, with each member treated equal to the rest. De’Vorah wished she could be on the other side of the clearing, as a Bluecoat looking down on the Anima and their ideals. They didn’t look much older than her, now that she was close enough to see them, which was a little surprising.
Despite all that, there was much less animosity than De’Vorah had expected from natives of her homeland. Perhaps to many, the war was a distant memory, if remembered at all. She herself did not forget its pain.
Evelyn, assigned escort leader, had urged the head of the delegation to begin the journey into the kingdom immediately, but Menon put it off. “My people must recover themselves first,” he declared in a sonorous voice that vibrated through the air.
“As you wish, lord Menon,” Evelyn had said, giving him a bow. De’Vorah had felt a grudging respect to the human Ranger that she had addressed him properly. He was, after all, of the fifth noble house Me’vaan, the same way Tilly was of Ti’vaan.
De’Vorah did not understand why the Anima had no princely families of their own that she was aware of, and instead had a small household who ruled the land. How could one hope to rule without many branches of nobility?
In any case, the Anima had acquiesced.
Thus, the delegation was now resting in the inner tents of the camp. The Rangers and their trainees surrounded them in a protective ring. Fortunately they had all expected a delay.
De’Vorah reached out with her mind and focused her senses. She felt the breath of the wind, the movement of the earth under her feet, and the pulse of the forest like steady heartbeats. Behind her, she felt the dimly lit minds of some Rangers and the collective minds of the highborn Elarrians, radiant like the sun. She let her mind press further out, to the small scurrying hunters in the night, a few birds, and the buzzing of insects. Then she heard it. High-pitched howls in the distance. The padding of paw steps.
De’Vorah dashed back into the tent. She shook Tilly’s shoulders. “Lady Tilly! I’m sorry to interrupt your sleep, but we must hurry and warn the others!”
Tilly blearily opened her eyes and sat up. “What is it?”
“The wolves.” De’Vorah was already grabbing her bow and putting Tilly’s cloak around her shoulders.
Tilly picked up her own bow, speaking in a measured tone. “It is normal to have gray wolves in the forest. They do not usually attack anyone, especially with our large numbers. Rest easy.”
“Ice wolves,” De’Vorah clarified, and that seemed to be enough to rouse Tilly fully awake.
The two ran to Instructor Evelyn’s tent. The human woman was up the moment De’Vorah had opened the tent flap, and her hound-eared partner was right beside her.
“Is this about the invisible attacker you mentioned before?” Evelyn asked Tilly.
“Maybe worse. Instructor, there’s packs of ice wolves heading our direction,” Tilly told her.
Evelyn’s blond hair rustled in the wind as she left her tent, gazing up at the mountains. Her blue eyes looked thoughtful. “They aren’t supposed to be ranging this far.”
“Something unnatural going on,” her partner agreed, his brown hound’s ears twitching. He was a full Ranger, in Gamma Squad if De’Vorah remembered correctly. “You get the squads, I’ll tell Menon we need to move right away.”
Evelyn nodded. She pointed at the Elarrians. “You two, find your squad mates. Take the rear-guard and make sure none get through the wards while we’re doing the escort. No time. We’ll stagger it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tilly said, and De’Vorah echoed her.
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Alicia carefully slipped through the gaps in some lines of green energy. She had to be very slow, and very patient. Many of the wards had traps imbued in them, resulting in her doing some gymnastic poses to avoid setting them off. The outermost layers she could defuse well enough, but it drained her energy, and she wasn’t sure how many wards were left. Plus, the inner ones were bound to be much stronger. She could be stuck all night.
There was a rush of movement. Several Rangers hurried out in neat formations, blue cloaks flapping as their boots tapped soundlessly on the grass. She inwardly tensed, but instead of coming her way they ran out the camp.
Huh? What’s going on?
A moment later, loud and fierce howls erupted that made even her skin crawl.
Oh. I get it now.
“Rangers! To me!” one of the cloaked figures at the front shouted, a woman carrying a modified bow.
Shadows prowled the edges of the forest. The quiet thump of paw steps on grass echoed. Branches rustled. In a flash, a great white beast leaped towards the group. It was larger than a full-grown man, with dark blue eyes, a tuft of white fur on its neck, and a gaping maw of razor-sharp teeth. Its glittering white claws scraping the dirt were each the length of large knives. Most distinctive of all were the jagged blue spikes on its head, limbs, and running down its back like a horse’s mane, the shape of solid ice. In three bounds it was quickly closing the distance between itself and the lead Ranger.
The Rangers drew back as one, firing beams from their bows. The green energy slammed against the creature, breaking off bits of ice, slowing its advance, and it roared in fury. The icicles on its body trembled.
“Incoming!” the lead Ranger shouted. The Ranger squads scattered as sharp ice spikes shot from the wolf’s body, narrowly missing the members. They retaliated with another hail of beams, knocking the wolf slightly off-balance.
“Come on, is that all you got?” a hound-eared Anima Ranger taunted. The wolf charged, fired another salvo, and the Rangers dodged again, leading it away from the camp, where lines of green energy lay.
Then another two wolves burst from the depths of the forest, their loud barking breaking through the air like gunshots.
“Aw, f***,” the same Anima cursed, ducking a spike and firing a volley at the leftmost wolf.
Something clicked in Alicia’s mind. This was her chance. Master had sent reinforcements in for a reason. She kept herself invisible and ran towards the fighting, then positioned herself behind two of the wolves as they leaped at the Rangers, who had retreated into the wards. The green lines flared with light, setting off alarms, identification magic, tracking spells, and traps. The wolf towards her left suddenly yowled in agony as it was engulfed in red-orange flames, and the other was struck by lightning and purple energy blasts. Alicia used the opportunity to vault through the spent wards.
She was through. The wolves struggled up but were immediately pummeled by arrows. There was a chorus of barking from a distance, and the whistle of spiked missiles flying through the air. More howls sounded, followed by a hail of green beams, and ferocious growls came from the shadows of trees. She heard voices close to her.
“Move, move! It’s a distraction!”
“East side, they’ve pulled a pack together! Steady!”
“Commander Ti’brill, we’ve got an emergency.” She saw the hound-eared Anima speak into a communicator as he rushed in another direction with his partner. “Ice wolf attack. Need more reinforcements. We’re sending the delegation out early.”
Bright explosions and flashes appeared at another border of the camp, with a separate set of wards. Alicia saw a large green shield hovering over the camp tremble as five wolves raged on it, heaving their powerful bodies against the barrier, snarling and slashing with their claws. Sparks flew.
“Protect the delegation!” the human leader of the Rangers cried.
Seven vaguely humanoid dark element clones zipped past, and Alicia watched curiously as the Anima and human mages in the Ranger squads unleashed elemental magic. Waves of water, ice, rocks, black beams, and yellow flashes of light flared out, striking the animals. The black clones weaved between the large beasts, slashing at them with swords of energy and causing the wolves to lash with their claws, slicing the clones into dark wisps. She recognized the aim was to bring the wolves’ attention elsewhere.
She saw small groups of Elarrians surrounded by personal guards in blue coats and Rangers, starting to leave the camp.
I need to find the leader, she remembered.
The assassin heard the faint rustling of wing beats up above the treetops. A crowd of bats flew overhead towards the wards. A Ranger in a squad glanced up, frowned in surprise, and aimed his bow. “Nocturne—!”
The bats screeched and erupted into gray smoke. Another squad partner tackled the man out of the way as gray-skinned, red-eyed beings suddenly dropped from the sky, narrowly dodging beams, the small bat-like wings on their back flapping as they maneuvered. They slashed at the nearest Rangers with their clawed hands, who scrambled back, threw up shields, or fell with a cry.
The shapeshifters sent tendrils of black magic at the green lines of wards, which fizzled and flickered. Beams caught five of the Nocturne on the chest, but their numbers and their element of surprise was enough.
They have dispelling abilities, Alicia recalled from one of her studies. Due to historical conflicts, the Nocturne had evolved powers to neutralize Anima spirit magic. The wards, already under pressure from raging packs of ice wolves, flickered and gave way.
Chaos erupted. Three white beasts jumped at the nearest group of escorts, slashing savagely with their claws. Rangers fell with surprised cries and Bluecoats were knocked aside like dolls. Icicles pierced two defenders in the throat, and they collapsed gurgling. Blood flew in the air. An ice wolf broke through the protective ring in a wild fury, and three Elarrians in the group were mauled, screaming as its claws slashed through their clothes, skin, and bone. Red puddles gushed to the ground.
In a panic, the highborn Elarrians threw their mental strength at the wolves, making the monsters temporarily halt, roar, and shudder in place. Green beams flew from a nearby escort of Rangers, bruising and battering one of the creatures, and a trio of Bluecoats flung out their spell-throwers.
The nearest wolf was suddenly catapulted into the air like it had been struck by a battering ram. It crashed in a heap on the ground, flailing and slashing at its own face as if trying to get something out of its head. Rangers struck it down in a hail of arrow fire, piercing holes in the screaming, giant creature.
The remaining wolf barked twice and retreated, four members of its pack slinking close to the broken wards. Another pack of five rushed from the side, letting out bloodcurdling howls, and assaulted another group with incredible speed. Rangers were flung aside or cut down, and Bluecoats fell, clutching their chests as they were pierced with ice spikes. The wolves sprouted jagged pieces of ice from their limbs, slicing through shields and armor. Elarrians screamed as the wolves struck savagely, tearing into them with their teeth and claws. There was a shout from a male Bluecoat, and the wolves were blown backwards as a team of Bluecoats and Rangers assailed from another party.
“Aid the wounded! Rangers, square formation! Tighten! Defend the Elarrians!” a hound-eared leader of the Rangers cried.
The Bluecoats and Rangers of the escorts either advanced or tended to the injured, emitting healing magic which glowed with green light. They had little chance to rest, however, as Nocturne swept towards them, slashing with their clawed hands and throwing tendrils of black magic. The tendrils struck Rangers down and one Nocturne slashed a Bluecoat’s throat.
“Kill the Nocturne!” a Bluecoat shouted, and she thrust out her spell-thrower, causing the shapeshifters to fall onto the dirt and writhe in agony, clutching their heads. Two of the beings screamed, jerking as their necks broke with audible snaps. Another two screeched as a hole appeared through their foreheads, as if pierced by invisible bullets. The Rangers and Bluecoats turned their attention to the Nocturne, stabbing or shooting, but the wolves used the distraction to come on the offensive again, howling and roaring as they attacked another group with their razor-sharp claws, tearing through flesh, fabric, and armor with frightening ease.
Alicia rushed forwards, closing in on the edges of the camp. Which one’s the leader? she thought, surveying the bloody confusion with unease. His name was Menon, right? He has to be in one of these groups.
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As the escorts fled the devastated camp, Alicia noticed a change. The wolves had abruptly switched tactics. They circled the traveling groups at a distance in swarming packs. Then, they would dart forward, one or two at a time, slashing with their bloodied claws, biting and howling.
“Ahh!”
“Run!”
“Move! We need to get out of here!”
The terror and panic running through the crowd was palpable. If the ice wolves were able to get close, they would claw through the shields and defenses of Rangers and Bluecoats, shooting a hail of ice spikes and pieces of jagged frost, then retreat swiftly from the beams and spells flying their way. Twice, she saw the Elarrians, eyes wide in fear, scatter. Then the horde dived as a single savage unit, biting and tearing through bodies at the edges of the escorting circle.
“Aaaaah!”
“Help!”
“No!”
The screams would disappear under the ravenous ferocity of the pack, and the survivors would run another direction. Then the cycle would begin again.
Alicia, picking up a discarded knife, felt a cold shiver of both fear and horrified admiration for the bloodthirsty hunters. Ice wolves lived in harsh tundra or the subarctic peaks. To be driven out from their territory due to Master’s powers—a difficult feat—they must have decided to seize the forests as their new habitat. And the Elarrians were prey.
They’re terrorizing the delegation. Intimidating them. Then they isolate the most overwhelmed ones and take those first.
A male Elarrian Ranger glanced in her direction. Perhaps sensing a presence, and frightened by the ever-lurking shadows of the ice wolves, the Ranger aimed his bow at her.
Alicia, surprised, hurled the bloodstained knife and it struck the Ranger’s shoulder. His face twisted in pain and he was about to fire back, but suddenly an ice wolf took advantage of the distraction and bit down on the Elarrian’s head. He screamed, blond hair flying, blood flying in the air, as the massive beast chomped down further and shook its head like he was a chew toy. The body flew several meters and hit the floor.
Alicia shook herself from paralysis and decided to go with the plan she had in mind. She undid her invisibility, dashed to the bloodied corpse, and put on the dark blue cloak as fast as she could. With all the fighting and screaming, no one could possibly have enough time to watch her. She strapped on a knife and tugged on gloves from the fallen Ranger as well. Trying not to think about the brutal fate its owner had suffered, she ran into the depths of the camp. The leader must still be in there.
She spotted a blue beam of light soar out an astonishing distance and strike a wolf straight in the eye. It howled in agony, writhing on the ground. Four successive beams followed with pinpoint precision, hitting other wolves in the eye or through the mouth. The Rangers let loose on the fallen beasts, riddling them with holes.
Then she felt it. A sensation of power from a distance, like a gravitational pressure. It was similar to how she had sensed the trainee squad when she’d lost them. This feeling, though, was different. It was much stronger, but also disturbingly familiar. There was no mistaking that blue aura either. A tingle of worry flowed through her, and her heart pounded.
C***! Oh, c***!
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“What is going on?” Tilly and her trainee squad looked around at the horrible scenes unfolding around them. Their eyes were wide in shock. Elarrians lay on the ground, surrounded by shouting Rangers and Bluecoats as they activated healing magic or administered potions. In the distance, green beams of light traded with spikes of blue ice, and screams and howls rent the air.
“I do not know. We must follow orders and hold the rear guard,” De’Vorah said. The squad stepped through the camp at a fast pace.
“But where are the other trainees? Have the defenses fallen?” The Anima on the squad, leopard-eared Wendy, looked around anxiously. Her tail flicked from side to side.
“I think I’m going to throw up,” the human mage on their team, Vishal, added, spotting a pool of blood, bone fragments, and fur on the ground. He did look queasy, his brown skin paler than normal, but swept his bow around cautiously.
De’Vorah took a deep breath. “Let us track down one of the escorts. We can help protect one.”
They spotted one soon enough. A blurring white shape resembling a wolf was charging towards a small circle of Bluecoats and Rangers, firing large icicles from its body like missiles. Some projectiles whizzed straight at their faces.
“Duck!” Tilly shouted. The trainees ducked in unison and the spikes flew over their heads.
“Fire—”
Wendy suddenly threw up a shield around Tilly and a series of black tendrils struck it, shattering it in a burst of magic. Tilly stumbled at the force of the blow. “Oh!”
“Ugh!” the leopard woman cried. “What was that?”
“Less talking, more shooting!” Vishal hollered, firing arrows of energy at a peculiar humanoid being with small bat wings, horns, and red eyes. The creature, dressed in black robes, darted and weaved around the attacks with surprising agility.
“A Nocturne!” Wendy summoned a set of rock walls around the being, causing him to smack against it and dodge to avoid being trapped.
The Nocturne flung out his clawed hands, sending more trailing black lines at the squad. His red eyes gleamed and he spoke in a hissing voice. “Fools! The demon has spoken! All who do not worship Kavistra shall give offerings or be destroyed!”
The attacks struck the Anima-human pair of the squad as they brought up shields, sending them crashing against the ground.
“Wendy! Vishal!” Tilly cried, jumping away from a set of black spells from the creature.
He hissed at them with a wide smile, showing sharp teeth. “Kavistra will bring vengeance for her followers! The age of darkness and our great empire will return!”
De’Vorah shot at the Nocturne, green beams flashing from her bow as he whirled around her attacks. She felt strange doing it, as she remembered times when she had served Nocturne citizens at her cafe job. This one, though, was babbling like one of the extremists in their churches. She caught him on the shoulder, making him stumble, but he leaped towards Tilly.
Tilly summoned a green domed shield of magic as the being bore down on her. His claws slashed against the defensive spell, sending out shockwaves of energy.
“Ack! Stop!” Tilly struggled as the Nocturne glowed with black light, tearing at her barrier. The Elarrian focused her mind on her surroundings, and a hole opened up under her attacker. Plant roots grew out and ensnared her opponent’s legs. The Nocturne snarled in surprise and summoned a wave of dark energy around him as he was dragged down and the roots scraped against his body.
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“Tilly!” De’Vorah fired with her bow, hitting the enemy’s head, but out of the corner of her eye she saw two gray forest wolves running towards her, barking at one another.
She was briefly confused, but reacted, trusting her instincts. One wolf lunged for her throat and De’Vorah threw herself to the side. She pulled back her bowstring and beams pummeled one of the animals. It fell back, then in a burst of gray fog revealed the body of another shapeshifter.
The other wolf jumped on Tilly, clawing with its forelegs and biting, its blade-like fangs snapping shut and barely missing her face.
Tilly cried out in fear, throwing out a hand. The highborn drew upon her mental powers and uttered a command. “Va Hakune!” Kill Nocturne.
The wolf jerked back and fell to the dirt. Its hind legs twisted into a painful position and it grasped its own neck, choking itself. The form writhed and reverted to the form of a shapeshifter, still gripping his own throat. He struggled wildly, straining for air. “Ahk…urk!” There was a crack as the Nocturne’s neck broke.
Tilly gasped for breath, lying still as she attempted to regain her composure and energy. Her eyes were wide with shock. De’Vorah stumbled over and took hold of the highborn’s arms, helping her up.
“Are you okay?” De’Vorah asked.
Tilly nodded, but she looked at the body of her assailant with regret.
“There’s no time,” De’Vorah told her, pulling her toward the circle of escorts.
Wendy and Vishal clambered to their feet, hurrying over to the Elarrians. “Ouch,” Wendy muttered, patting one of her leopard ears. “Glad you guys took care of that.”
They saw two fellow trainee squads in the back of the circle. “What’s happening?” Tilly called out as they joined the outer ring, but the other trainees screamed. Blood splattered the ground and three Rangers were hurled off their feet. There was a blur of motion, a slash of enormous white claws, and a Bluecoat fell beside De’Vorah, his armor shredded apart and blood gushing from his chest. De’Vorah stepped back in shock as a great white wolf whirled into view and barreled down on the Elarrian citizens in the middle of the circle, its fanged mouth wide.
“No!” De’Vorah spotted a spell-thrower lying beside the Bluecoat. She seized the Ka’qiang from the body, hefting its slightly curved end towards the animal. It was heavier than she thought, requiring both her hands on the handle, as the rod was made of alloyed spell-steel. She threw her mind at the ice wolf and spoke the first spell that came to her mind. “Inhwa!” Fire flower.
The spell was normally a physical attack, but she felt her mind slam into the wolf’s brain. The wolf reeled back as if she had bludgeoned it over the head with a stone wall. In her mind, she felt the creature’s mental state shatter, its own mind flailing and reaching towards her in a fit of madness. The monster’s thoughts were primitive and strange, and they tried to push her out of its head. She struggled against it and felt its presence fade, as if it were burning, slowly dissolving as it was seared in five directions, like flaming petals were being opened around its center.
She heard Rangers shout and shoot the wolf, and the animal’s presence vanished entirely from her mind. De’Vorah fell to her knees, gasping, feeling winded like the air had been sucked out of her.
“De’Vorah!” Tilly reached out and grasped her shoulder. “That was very dangerous of you.” Her voice quavered. “You are not properly trained to use that, and the lowborn do not have as much mind-sense in the first place.”
“De’tully,” De’Vorah apologized. Tilly nodded and obviously did not care to correct her for saying sorry in Elarri.
“Captain! De’Vorah!” The pair’s Anima squad member shoved them down as spikes and jagged pieces of frost flew past their heads. Two more gigantic ice wolves raced from the shadows, snarling in rage. They leaped at the escort.
“Oh, ancients,” Tilly murmured, turning pale. De’Vorah tried to raise the spell-thrower, but her head felt dizzy and she staggered instead.
Blue lightning bolts flashed from the sky, striking the closest wolf as a figure slammed down on its back and a silver blade plunged into its neck. The ice wolf let out a howl of agony and thrashed. The figure materialized into a fox woman who blurred into motion, slipped under its belly, and repeatedly slashed its stomach. She rolled past the screaming beast as electricity crackled over its body, killing it, and whipped out a pistol, firing into the mouth of the other ice wolf as it tried to attack her.
The wolf choked under the blast of blue beams, and summoned spikes at her instead. Her aura flared and the icicles stopped in midair as if frozen in time. They shuddered and flew back at their owner. The fox woman pointed her sword, pistol, and many tails at its face. In a blaze of energy, blue beams and fire shot out of her body and the weapon, sending the monster crashing to the side as it was pierced multiple times. It roared and finally went limp.
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Vi, chest heaving with exertion, turned to look over the circle of escorts and Elarrians. She switched her sword and pistol to her tails and unslung the rifle on her back. Then she dug through a pouch on her waist and handed her last two potions to a female leopard-eared Ranger trainee. The young Anima had enough sense to shake herself from surprise and tend to two wounded Elarrians with the blue bottles.
Vi had already surveyed the battlefield from afar in her position as a sniper, and could only assume the situation would get worse without action. “Rangers, to me. We’re changing tactics.”
The Ranger shuffled towards her. Some squads weren’t even full Rangers, but trainees.
“Vi? What are you doing here?” Tilly asked.
She glanced over, looking relieved. “I wanted to check if you were okay.”
The Elarrians in the middle of the protective ring and some of their guards murmured to one another. Their green eyes were filled with fear and suspicion.
“Don’t—don’t hurt us!” one of the more panicked ones shouted.
Another glared at her. “Ravun. I have heard stories of her from my parents.”
“Is that not the Demon? Why has she come?”
“Maybe she’s here to finish us once and for all.”
The words rang in her ears. She had never wanted the nickname. Despite having worked with her before, De’Vorah was also eyeing her with distrust.
“I’m on your side now,” she tried to tell the delegation members, but they drew away from her. Vi activated her healing magic and put a hand on a highborn’s shoulder, letting a wave of blue energy wash over the group.
“Stop it!” a Bluecoat grabbed her arm. “What are you doing?”
Vi let go. She glimpsed the bodies of fallen Rangers and her eyes grew saddened.
A large number of Bluecoats had also been slain. Much more than would be expected of a supposedly elite unit. That was her fault, in a way, and she felt a pulse of guilt flow through her. These ones were young and inexperienced, not like the fierce soldiers of the Five Kingdoms War. The strong ones had been killed in the fighting, most infamously by her and Aurelius in an early battle that had given her old partner his nickname. The Battle of the Frozen North.
“Listen to me.” Vi spoke to the circle and its protected members as a whole. “Ice wolves roam in packs. They hunt herds of moose by running around them, frightening the herd and driving them in a direction the wolves can take advantage of, until a few break out. Then those single moose are overwhelmed. Do you understand?”
De’Vorah slowly nodded her head.
“You are being isolated. Pressured through fear. Then they take you out one or two at a time,” Vi explained. “We need to arrange formations to resist this.”
“What can we do?” a human Ranger trainee asked, sounding exhausted and with a strain in his voice. “We need to not be a big herd of prey?” He gave a high-pitched laugh, shaking as he saw the bloody body of a beast.
Vi glanced around. “The conditions and manpower aren’t ideal, so we need to improvise. Square formation is good against cavalry, so we can start with that. If it’s tight it dissuades charging beasts. We don’t have a lot of spears, so I need Bluecoats in the outer parts of the square, spell-throwers out. Rangers with long melee weapons should also be right behind. The others need to be ready to shoot the wolves from afar and defend against their icicles.”
There was a shuffle of movement as the Rangers and Bluecoats followed her orders.
“The important thing is you don’t want to think like prey,” Vi informed them, taking up a position in front. “You want to be mobile, going at them as an enemy pack. We’re going to be a group of stronger wolves who can kill individual members of their pack with enough intensity to scare off the rest. Is that okay?”
There was a murmur of assent from the Rangers. The Bluecoats glared at her but didn’t object, and the Elarrians simply let themselves be surrounded by the re-formed escort.
They had hardly formed up when another three ice wolves came barking ferociously, coming from different directions, one at the front and two others at the sides.
The Bluecoats raised their spell-throwers and yelled in unison. “Sen!” Break.
The wolves were thrown back, slamming against the earth, and Vi fired her rifle, hitting the center one in the head. “Pierce the closest one,” she instructed the group. “You have to make them afraid. Shields up. Drive them back.”
The Bluecoats moved in, driving their rods at the beast at the center with a concussive shockwave of energy. It was sent flying, blood and fur trailing onto the ground. The Rangers summoned shields to defend against icicles shot from the other two wolves, and counterattacked, blasting one of them repeatedly. The last remaining wolf struggled up and howled at them, but Vi shot it in the jaw. As it tried to recover, a wave of beams and spells crashed into it. The Rangers, glowing with their auras, and Bluecoats in the front stabbed into the creature with their rods or swords. It was sent tumbling backwards, scrabbling against the dirt.
The group seemed surprised at their success. Even a little hopeful.
“Target the underside and the neck,” Vi advised them. “Flames can also help. The rest of that pack’s out west. Let’s join up with another group.”
They found another escort under attack, the circle of bodies and shields crumbling under two raging wolves. There were panicked screams and blood.
“Ka’ra!” Spell of tearing. The Bluecoats thrust out their rods and the wolves jerked backwards with strangled yelps. Rangers poured arrows onto the wolves’ necks. As they crashed to the ground, eyes glaring and slashing with their long white claws, the Anima and human Rangers from Vi’s group sent out streams of flames, hitting the wolves’ bellies. There were loud screams from the monsters. The group moved in and a wave of energy stabbed into the creatures, silencing them.
Vi’s escort joined the attacked group, some Rangers administering to the Elarrians and their fellows with healing magic. Vi herself hung back as the forces combined, trying to avoid attention. But it wasn’t to be.
“What—get away from us!” a guard of the highborn cried, raising his weapon at Vi. She probably looked like another dark monster in the shadows, with the night, the overall confusion, and the black fur and wolf blood.
“I’m here to help—” Vi started to say, but three Bluecoats, their nerves already frayed, thrust their weapons out at Vi.
“Va Ravun!”
Vi was hurled backwards and smashed against the forest floor. She winced at the impact and felt the wind knocked out of her. Her head throbbed as she lay there. She felt her self-healing magic take effect. If she was some other Anima, she probably would have died on the spot. Her mind just happened to be trained against such spells.
Stars, I thought I wouldn’t have to tank another of those again.
Vi managed to get up, shooting a bat-form Nocturne in the head who had tried to ambush her. He landed dead on the ground, wings flapping helplessly. Luckily there were very few Nocturne left from the initial assault, and they were mostly in the camp. Vi had a theory on why they chose to stay instead of pursue the terrified Elarrians. It wasn’t a good sign.
She saw the newly combined group had already attacked another pack, chasing the wolves down swiftly and pouring green beams and mental strength in waves. One animal had already been laid flat. The beasts growled and barked to one another, running towards the shadows of the forest trees, and separating to avoid being easy targets. They split their numbers into a “V” shape as they fled.
Vi called out. She put a hand on her head. “Okay, stop. Don’t follow them in. They’re attempting to set a trap for you. Probably a flanking maneuver. We need to aid the other escorts and grow stronger.” The group halted upon hearing her.
Vi joined them and stayed around Tilly and De’Vorah. She decided not to say anything regarding the Bluecoats. They were scared. I have a bad reputation. It’s understandable.
But two young female Elarrians and their older companion, perhaps their mother, looked spooked as they saw Vi approach. They cried out, scrambling away. Loud barks and growls came from shadows behind the group and the three suddenly bolted in fear toward where the pack had retreated.
“Wait!” Vi cried, reaching a hand towards them, but they only ran harder towards the depths of the forest.
“Come back!” De’Vorah started to chase after the two, Tilly running close behind, but Vi yanked them back with her tails.
“Stop. Please.” Vi gripped them around their waists firmly. “That’s a trap. Even if our whole group goes, there’s four wolves and possibly another pack in there.”
De’Vorah whirled around as she struggled against her tails. “That doesn’t matter! We need to help them!” Her eyes were furious.
Just then, wild howls sounded. Three voices screamed. Then there was a horrible sound of ripping and tearing.
De’Vorah’s mouth opened in shock. Tilly’s eyes widened.
“We need to move,” Vi said quietly.
“But—” De’Vorah protested.
Vi pulled her along. “I’m sorry. There was nothing we could do.”
They headed towards another group, but this one was under much more stress, in complete and utter disarray. A pack of five wolves had disrupted two former circles so Rangers were on one side, Elarrians and Bluecoats were on the other, and both were fighting for their very lives.
Vi aimed her rifle and fired at the two wolves attacking the Rangers. Her own group advanced towards the Elarrian delegation, but Vi saw the wolf pair roar in fury, retreat, and then shoot a mass of spikes. They were preparing to wipe out the remaining squads of Rangers.
“Attack the ones on the right,” Vi called to her group.
There was a moment of confusion, and then they advanced as she instructed. Vi fired with her tails and all her weapons at the foe. Icicles were deflected against a mass of energy shields. The two monsters were thrown into the air and pierced with beams as the new opposing force rammed into them.
Screams erupted. The Rangers and Bluecoats then turned their attention to the Elarrian delegation, but to their horror it was too late. The other three wolves had torn into whatever was left of the defenseless members and were gnawing the corpses.
Tilly cried out in despair and the Bluecoats struck the remainder of the pack, smashing the wolves away from the bodies and crushing their minds with a flurry of pained emotion. Beams from the Rangers finished them.
The Elarrians in the squads stared at the scene.
“Why?” De’Vorah trembled in anger. She gave Vi a hurt look of betrayal. “Why didn’t you help?”
Vi didn’t answer.
“Aren’t you supposed to be a Hero of the Kingdom?” De’Vorah shouted angrily. “How could you? How—how could you…?”
De’Vorah broke off, hot tears trickling down her face. Tilly, pale, stared at Vi in disbelief.
Vi spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. “The Rangers were about to die.” She allowed herself a brief glance at the dead, then swept her eyes towards the camp. She made a small makeshift stone stand and placed her rifle on it, adjusting the scope as she aimed at a tent.
“What are you doing?” De’Vorah shrieked, grabbing the barrel of the gun.
“Something’s wrong,” Vi murmured.
“That’s lord Menon’s tent!” The Ranger trainee tried to pull the rifle away from Vi. “You’re going to shoot him!”
“Please stop, De’Vorah. I’m sorry.” Vi kept her voice calm. There was a click as a green cartridge slid into place and she peered through the rifle scope. She pushed De’Vorah away.
The Elarrian balled her hands into fists, gripping her bow tightly. She looked at Vi with cold hatred in her eyes.
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“When is Commander Ti’brill coming?” Menon gathered some papers in his bag, a line of four loyal Bluecoats standing stoically in front of his tent. He stood at a ceremonial desk and attached the bag to his waist.
“He is en route right now, with half the Ranger contingent,” an Elarrian aide told him, his face strained. “Lord Menon, you must go. The others are almost all gone. You need at least a single Ranger squad to adequately guard you.”
“I will go when the last of Elar has had a chance to flee this madness.” There was a screech as a Nocturne was blown apart by his Bluecoats. He seized a nearby knife from a table and threw it out the tent, catching another Nocturne in the chest.
“Lord Menon!” the aide pleaded. “There is not much time!”
The Bluecoats raised their spell-throwers as one and blasted an enormous ice wolf into a tree, breaking its bones with the force of their strike.
Alicia slowly neared the entrance as she listened to the conversation. She felt a twinge of guilt, trying to kill someone so courageous he would rather stay in a death trap than abandon his people whenever he first had the chance.
Her feet took on a hurried stride as she walked straight past the Bluecoats and through the tent flap. She clutched her knife under her cloak.
Lord Menon turned and looked at her. “Very well. You wish to escort me? The Rangers have more iron in them than I expected—”
A steel rod collided against Alicia’s head. She stumbled to her knees. Stars swam in her eyes.
“Soldiers!” Menon himself looked shocked. “What is the meaning of this?”
A Bluecoat spoke in a rumbling voice. “Vaan Menon, something is amiss. This Anima is short in stature, and I have not seen her in any Ranger squads since we first arrived. We will take her and leave—”
A horrible howl ripped through like a wind storm, and three ice wolves ran into the front of the tent, slashing down the speaker and the other Bluecoats from behind in blurs of white fury.
Alicia’s eyes widened as the wolves came barreling towards her and the Elarrian aide in front of her. They tore the shocked aide apart before her eyes, ripping off limbs in a flash. Menon flung his hands out and the wolves rammed into something like an invisible wall. They snarled and heaved themselves forwards as the leader struggled to hold his spell. I need to do it. Now. She moved automatically, rolling to Menon and plunging her dagger into the leader’s chest.
Menon’s eyes widened in shock. He looked down at her, tried to speak. Only a gurgle came out. Then he fell, dead.
Alicia let go of the knife, hot shame and disgust flowing through her. Blood pooled on the floor.
She waited for the wolves to come for her. They didn’t.
After a brief moment of silence, Alicia looked more closely at the wolves. They each had a small yellow mark on their foreheads, like a three-leaf fan. The three monsters stood without moving, glaring at her.
A young girl limped into the tent, shaking with every step. She had a broken armored bodysuit, blonde hair, and blue eyes. There were two small horns on her head. She spoke in a low monotone. “It has been a while, Alicia.”
“Eileen!” Alicia seized the bag from the dead Menon, checking she had the paper for the agreement Master asked of her, and ran to the girl with relief. “You’re—you’re alive!”
“Barely,” Eileen Streamlight grunted.
“Where’s Marcus?” Alicia asked, trying to embrace her fellow assassin. Eileen stared at Alicia as if the cat girl had grown a third eye.
“What are you doing? That is a dangerous position. Marcus is very badly injured. He cannot move. It was very risky of me to come here. Master assumed you would have trouble.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Alicia realized she was too used to seeing Vi do that.
“I must leave quickly,” Eileen informed her. She then gasped for breath and coughed. Blood dripped from her mouth.
“Eileen!” Alicia cried out in alarm. Even as she watched, the marks in the wolves flickered, and the beasts growled, shaking their heads, and started to pace closer.
“Don’t worry about it,” Eileen said, regaining control of her beast taming ability with a grunt of effort. “I’ll be at—”
A greenish-blue beam flew through the tent fabric and struck her in the stomach. “Gah!”
“Down!” Alicia tackled Eileen, sending her to the ground. With a roar of fire, blue beams pummeled the tent around them, shooting straight through where they had just been standing and striking the wolves down. Items all around the tent shattered and a large piece of debris struck Alicia, piercing her leg.
“Aaaah!”
Alicia clutched her bleeding leg and swore. “S***! Are you okay?”
Eileen stirred. She put a hand on her stomach and moaned. The armor had saved her, but there was an ugly bruise beneath. “I’m…functioning.”
She crawled towards the tent exit. “I will go now. Please leave as well.”
“Wait. Let me help.” Alicia took a deep breath despite the pain and concentrated. She glowed with a black aura. Three black shadowy clones appeared.
“I’ll distract the survivors,” Alicia told her. “You go somewhere safe first.”
Eileen looked at her for a moment, cocking her head. “It is not necessary. Why do you care? You can carry on the mission if anything happens to me.”
“It’s—it’s to my benefit,” Alicia added, lying to herself. The pain in her leg was almost unbearable. Her clones wouldn’t be able to attack at all, but merely run around and be a target. “If I keep practicing, I will become a more effective tool for Master. Just—just go, okay?”
Then Eileen nodded. She slowly stumbled off as Alicia’s clones ran in another direction.
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Rumbling sounded in the distance. A fleet of ships flew down to meet the circles of escorts who had fled the camp. From the vehicles, a large group of Rangers poured out, carrying potions and medical equipment, rolling stretchers, or wielding their weapons. Their footsteps thundered as they met the bedraggled rings of Elarrians and their protectors, setting up perimeters and tending to the injured.
A high voice shouted from the front of the Rangers. “Strike! Send those vermin to their deaths!” Squads of Rangers fired a massive barrage of beams at packs of ice wolves still trying to close in from afar.
A relentless hail of magic arrows blasted the creatures, shooting them down in gushes of blood or causing them to scatter. The wolves in the packs howled to one another, signaling a retreat. Monsters who were not killed dispersed into the safety of the forest, leaving behind bloody paw prints and torn bits of frost and fur.
Vi sheathed her sword as a tall figure with blond hair and fair skin stomped over. The Elarrian wore a Ranger’s cloak which had an embroidered silver outline and an icon of a leaf on the right side. He carried an expensive bow on his back and a sword at his waist, clutching the polished blade tightly as if barely restraining himself from pulling it out. His green eyes were narrowed in fury as he surveyed the bleeding, crying, and wailing members of the delegation. His face was red as if it was about to explode.
“Where is Vaan Menon?” he demanded.
No one answered. Vi spoke. “I don’t know. He didn’t leave the camp.”
“What?” The Elarrian’s eyes zeroed in on her.
The trainees, Tilly and De’Vorah included, parted to make way for the Elarrian like a blue-cloaked sea being split in half. The Rangers and Bluecoats nearby were similarly deferential.
“Azurelane!” The Ranger Commander spat the word out. “What in the name of the ancient ones are you doing here? Did you not hear me when I told you not to command my men?”
“I apologize, Commander Ti’brill.” Vi kept her expression neutral as she felt the commander’s glare on her.
Commander Ti’brill stepped toward Vi until he was right in her face. “You apologize!” He sneered. “Is that truly all you can say for yourself? You had no authority to interfere with this mission. None at all. No reason to speak to anyone in the Rangers. Look at this!” He gestured to the remainder of the delegation. Shock and fright were etched on their faces. A female Elarrian was clutching her friend and sobbing hysterically. A male Elarrian was staring at the ground, hyperventilating and shaking as a Ranger wrapped bandages around him.
The commander continued, his tone searing and hateful. “If I had been in the camp, instead of you, everything would have turned out differently. Instead, you disregard even your own king’s orders and make a mess. Are you so egotistical you think you can do anything you want? Even if it means ruining the lives of the High Race? You are disgusting!”
In one swift motion, Commander Ti’brill drew his sword and backhanded Vi in the face with the butt of the handle.
Tilly made a small gasp of surprise. De’Vorah felt a bizarre mix of satisfaction and sympathy on seeing the action.
Vi put a hand to her cheek. Ti’brill was partly trying to save face in front of his men by shifting blame, but perhaps he had a point. It would be a very easy thing to heal herself of the bruise. She decided not to.
“I’ll leave now,” she told him, turning away quickly and walking to the ship where Enrique sat resting.
Commander Ti’brill called after her. “I will report this to the king and queen! You will not be unpunished!”
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“Ali! There you are! Are you okay?!” Vi, carrying Enrique, rushed over to the cat girl, who was slouched in her chair, her plates empty and phone at the table.
The living room was a mess. Chairs were knocked down on the floor, the walls were slashed and scraped, and furniture and decorations were thrown haphazardly about. Broken glass littered one of the tables.
Alicia looked at the two of them like she had just woken up from a long nap. “Huh? Yeah. Sure.”
“What happened? Are you hurt?” Enrique gestured at the smashed and damaged objects around them, his eyes big like saucers.
“Oh. That. Um.” Alicia hesitated for a moment. “I was bored. I knocked some things over. Took a walk. Then I went to sleep.”
Enrique mumbled something under his breath. “Cats. Unbelievable.”
“You’re hurt!” Vi reached a hand towards Alicia’s leg. Alicia hissed and pulled it back, away from her reach.
“I fell. It’s not a big deal,” Alicia growled.
“Oh, Ali…” Vi’s tails swished around, her expression worried. “I’m glad you’re okay. You weren’t answering your phone. I thought someone attacked you!”
No s***, Alicia thought to herself, rubbing her leg. She was glad her self-healing made the injury much less obvious. Instead of debris from the aftermath of a certain someone’s bullets, it looked like a big scrape one could plausibly get by tripping down some stairs.
It still hurt like h***.
“If anyone tries to hurt you, I’ll beat them up!” Enrique declared. This was extremely difficult for Alicia to imagine, but she wasn’t in any condition to make a snarky comment either. She was exhausted. He looked around for a mop. “Hey, I’ll clean this—ouch!”
He winced and Vi quickly adjusted his position.
“No, I’ll put you in your room. Please stay in bed,” Vi told him.
“What the f*** happened to you two?” Alicia wanted to know.
A message pinged on Vi’s phone. It was from the King.
His Majesty and Her Majesty demand your presence in the Palace immediately.