“I have no desire to suffer twice, in reality and then in retrospect.”
-Sophocles, Oedipus Rex
Ikett pressed himself against the tree trunk. It was quite the distance to the necromancer but doable. He stroked along the blade held in his hand and the metal became dark as pitch, no longer reflecting any light. Then he tensed and swung around the oak, throwing the knife with smooth practiced movements. Like a piece of the night sky, it was a mere shadow speeding towards the elf, who just at that moment turned a bit, perhaps alerted by a sound. The knife went cleanly into her torso, missing the neck.
She whirled around and a bolt of dark energy ripped from her staff hitting the tree which began to fester and die. Bark peeling off and disintegrating into sludge.
An elvish archer jumped from the tree he had hidden in and drew and loosed an arrow in swift succession. He hit Ikett while the latter was trying to run towards the village. A pained grunt was his only reward, the roguish fighter did not falter or stop- Safe for a bit of cursing perhaps “Gesserach be dammed!”
The Giant turned his head and began to move, the wight lifted the shield of magical force, the skeletons in his direct vicinity raised their heads.
Everyone stormed for the village walls.
Arrows and thrown spears welcomed them but it was very apparent, that it would not be enough.
“Get the civilians to the dwarves! We try to hold as long as we can then we flee through the village.” Torvak again took command. The confused and frightened villagers and the remaining soldiers obeyed.
The necromancer raised her head and glared at the retreating Ikett. She murmured a spell and the knife disintegrated into fine black powder, the gushing blood was staunched with another word, turning it into ice, which caused her features to tauten in pain. No sound save for the spells escaped her light blue lips.
Then she gestured and a group of ghouls separated and turned from the battle, the remaining undead not affected by the wight's command began to move to support the ones already engaged in combat.
The undead swarmed the walls made of broken field-stone, sadly the spikes did not significantly hinder their progress and they found many handholds in the uneven stones. The giant was running for the doors and raised his foot for a devastating kick. Margaret, the fire-branded spoke a word while sweat dripped from her face. A fireball streaked from her hand and exploded in bright orange flames amid the skeletons and the storming giant.
To the side, Ikett grabbed a spike and, with a pained scream, swung himself up the wall while getting help from the militia. Giving another grunt of pain he reached the top.
Adrian faced Alyssa and the still downed Mireille. “Alyssa, go with Olaf and Tira. If you must, take her with you” he nodded towards Mireille “the wagon must be saved, the cargo is of the highest importance.”
Olaf and Tira nodded while Alyssa helped Mireille to her feet. The group then set out for the inn, the streets had emptied after the shouted orders and they quickly reached the stables.
The giant stumbled and missed the center of the gates but even so planks burst and splinters showered the defenders. Pained screams rose into the night. The wight used the opportunity to force himself through the gap followed by skeletons. Some brave souls stood their ground against him and were struck down by his fell blade.
Righting himself, the huge frost-giant swung his club clearing the battlements of defenders. The sound of stone bursting and soldiers screaming was deafening. Men were flung like dolls and stones rained from the damaged walls. The Signed fought bravely, earthen armor rose to protect some, others hurled bolts of flame or blades of wind.
The necromancer was still holding her side and her gestures lacked the surety and confidence she had shown at the beginning of the battle. Her staff devoured the scant light around her, casting long shadows shaped like a star the sharp edges undulated like snakes. She spoke the words of a spell, her eyes the only thing shining in the darkness. Beside her, the ghost of the old man faded into nothingness his howls faintly audible without being heard exactly.
Black light flowed into dead bodies, who began to twitch and move. Formerly dead comrades began to laboriously clamber to their feet.
----------------------------------------
Meanwhile
Alyssa and her companions reached the inn. The door to the stables had been broken open, and the horses were missing, probably stolen in the commotion.
The stablehand lay there, bleeding from a head wound, before the destroyed door. The wagon was still inside. Chests had been opened and overturned, and the cage had been uncovered, a small figure huddled in the middle of the bars.
It seemed to be a small girl clothed in rags, perhaps one and a half meters, with a slight build, blue-white hair, pale, flawless skin, a pointed chin with elfin features, and pointed ears, the eyes glowed slightly, and blood was smeared across her face.
The effect was jarring, like a smudge on a fine painting.
Her eyes locked onto Alyssa, who staggered. The connection she had felt flared to frigid life.
Olaf pulled her aside and then went to the wagon. “Damn. Nothing to pull this with. Ignore her. Captive of the church of Cornac. Throw everything on the ground and help me pull." He grabbed for the wagon, "Do not touch the cage!”
After saying his piece, more than she had ever heard him say at once, he began to throw equipment from the wagon. Mireille looked curiously, then shrugged and went to help.
The voice was like ice water flowing over smooth stone, melodic, beautiful, cold. The small caged girl spoke, “The emissary of the false queen is here. Let me out. She will hunt me and leave you alone. If you don’t, then everything will fall to her. You know I speak the truth, distant cousin.” She looked at Alyssa and said with urgency coloring her speech, "Don't hesitate, there is no time!"
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Olaf looked up. “Shut your mouth, filthy undead." he turned to the others, "We have to hurry!”
Alyssa hesitated, torn, then began to help sort out the wagon. Grabbing her few belongings stowed here. She tried not to look at the small being. As near as she was, she felt the cold energy and even something like an echo of her emotions. If that feeling was to be trusted, she meant what she said.
Finally, the wagon was mostly empty, the boxes and equipment lying haphazardly on the dirty straw. They then pulled and maneuvered the vehicle out of the stable and through the small backyard of the inn. Screams and explosions were still heard from the walls, the giant a dark silhouette against the backdrop of the night sky.
It was difficult moving the wagon without draft animals, but they somehow managed. The smaller gate to the back of the village was open, and they saw some villagers trying to flee with what they had grabbed in haste, sacks and some food, toddlers clutched to their breasts or thrown over the shoulder.
As they neared the gate, they heard screams as a group of ghouls came out of the darkness and grabbed some of the nearest villagers ripping into them. Some even began to feed on the spot. Villagers tried to intervene armed with farming implements, some even had spears or clubs, but they were badly equipped and worse trained. A farmer desperately impaled one of the attackers with a pitchfork, and an old woman stabbed another with a spade. But the situation was deteriorating quickly. Blood ran over venomous talons, teeth bit into living flesh.
“Let me out, now! I will help with the ghouls and then draw them away. They will follow me!” The caged girl shouted."They need to capture me, and you can't let them have this victory!"
Asandria's thoughts blended with hers. 'She is right. And I know what she says is true. Help her. The priestess will be against you regardless.'
Olaf spat, then deliberated for a second, grabbed his weapon, and ran ahead. “Help me with the ghouls. We cant draw the wagon through a skirmish!”
Tira went with him, leaving Mireille and Alyssa standing beside the cage. “It's all going to hell in a handbasket.” Mireille summarized, looking behind her at the now fleeing defenders and directly ahead at the attacking ghouls. Wincing a bit while she held her still injured arm. The defenders at the front gates were falling back. The giant hurled one of the Signed into a burning building, causing more screams to arise.
Alyssa came to a conclusion, “I will let her go free. It is as she says if we don’t, she will still be in this cage when the other undead get here.” She looked to Mireille for confirmation.
“Do it. I don’t see what it can hurt- more, that is.”
“How do I get this open?” Alyssa searched for a way to remove the padlock holding the cage closed.
Asandria pointed at the metal bars tapping on several carved sigils, “You can scratch this rune here, then the vampire should be able to free herself.”
“Vampire!?” Alyssa had second thoughts.
“Do it, please!” The small vampire called.
Alyssa grabbed her knife hanging from a sheath on her belt and began striking the rune indicated by her spirit. Sparks rained down, and small bolts of white energy grounded into the knife and the wagon hurting her.
“Don't! You can't let this creature go free!” some distance away, Christina was running towards them, holding her left arm, blood streaming from a cut on her forehead. She stumbled and raised her arm, a white glow beginning to form but then fading as she fell to one knee. Adrian and the two woodswomen of Torvaks group ran a few dozen meters behind her through the winding main street.
A loud crack sounded, and the whole cage began to smoke while runes began to flicker and overload, the metal cracking around the engravings. The small girl grabbed the padlock and, with a crunching noise, broke the metal.
Christina forced herself to stand and shouted, “You will be judged for your transgressions, traitor!”
The vampire sprang free, “Find me after this, we have to talk!” Then she ran into the battle at the gate, jumping on the back of a ghoul, who was biting into the arm of a middle-aged man desperately trying to fend off the slavering jaws. As her fingernails lengthened into claws of black ice, she plunged her hand into the neck of the surprised beast. Ripping it out again with a goodly amount of blackish blood, she somersaulted backward and landed near a ghoul feasting on the body of an old woman. She tore into its spine crippling it. Taking care to spray blood and fluids away from her, staying strangely pristine. In one continuous movement, she grabbed the corpse of the woman with strength disproportionate to her height and vanished into the night.
“What have you done?! I will see you judged for this!” Christina completely lost her composure. The undead lifted their heads in unison as if listening to something, then they withdrew from combat and swarmed towards the mountains, where the vampire had vanished. The giant bellowed in a guttural language and, swinging his club through a nearby house, took a few steps backward. He was no longer in good condition, having suffered under the onslaught of the Signed. But the corpses littering the gate and street before him told a tale of bitter costs.
“I invoke the right of my rank. Arrest them!” Christina gestured, her face white with fury. Adrian took a few steps forward, looking conflicted. The woodswoman Tonalla shrugged, nocking an arrow.
"Give yourself up, and we will talk about it," Tonalla shouted.
“They should be thankful. We would have been overrun in a minute!” Mireille cursed.
“Come with me if you want, but I can't be captured.” Alyssa was regretting all of it, but even in hindsight did not see another way. She took a few steps and then began to run. An arrow shot in front of her, perhaps meant as a warning.
“Ah for Nirileths sake.” Mireille focused. “Eralasselyanthinar” Grunting with pain at the overexertion, she grabbed hold of Alyssa, who gave off an undignified yelp. Lightning scoring the road around her she dashed off into the night, dodging a few arrows on the way.
Mireille was thinking furiously while running. ‘Why did I do that!? I could have talked myself out of it, wounded as I am. Ah, for gricks sake, spilled milk and all that. Could not very well leave her to face the music alone. She probably saved my life too.'
And- 'This should not become a habit!’
Darting through the falling rain, nearly slipping on the wet ground, she slid between the still-fighting villagers. A dwarf looked at her incredulously as a ghoul he was fighting leaned forward to bite into his throat- and was kicked aside as Mireille jumped onto his head, kicking him to the ground with a satisfying crunch.
The lightning raging in the sky and in her blood combined. She was floating, driven like the lightning that would never stop before hitting its target.
Then she took another step, far from the combat behind her and it was like missing the step of a stair you were sure was there, and all that power fizzled out. Leaving her light-headed and gasping. She could only stumble and let Alyssa down on the ground before falling to her knees, blood dripping from her nose and eyes. The white-haired girl scrambled towards Mireille and frantically invoked the healing power of water. Asandria supported her. Her hands glowing aquamarine, the surrounding rain was pulled into the wound and her hurting head. Illuminating her, strengthening her from the inside.
And the bleeding came to a stop.
Huffing with exertion, Mireille got up and steadied herself on Alyssa's shoulder. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you. You probably saved my life.”
“That goes for you too.”
“What was your name again?”
“Mireille Annirstochter”
“Alyssa Miner”
They looked at each other and were on the verge of simply laughing hysterically before Alyssa said. “We have to continue. Now that the undead are leaving, the rest of them will try to capture us or the vampire girl.”
“I hope that we are not their priority!”
Drenched from the still falling rain, they continued on into the night.
Mireille leaned heavily on Alyssa as the two made their way deeper into the forested foothills. Water dripped from waterlogged branches, and they were both soaked by the time they came to a relatively empty hilltop. The village lay behind them, barely visible in the still-falling rain, and that only because of some houses still burning in spite of the water.
The two of them stopped for a moment to catch their breath.
“Why!” Alyssa teared up. “Why does this keep happening to me? I wanted to keep brewing potions and medicine. I never asked for this.”
“I was starving, and then I got into the army. I may be. No- I am a deserter right now. If only I had listened when they described what the punishment was. I think penal squadron for life?”
“Sounds horrible.”
“Yes. I don’t think I will test that.” Mireille hesitated, then groaned. “My friends. Damn it. I can't see them again as long as they are in the army.”
“I hate to ask- do you perhaps want to come with me? I'm going to Margrinar. And not that you misunderstand- I only hate asking because I think you would risk and lose too much. I would love to have you with me.”
“I think I might take you up on that. The alternatives don’t bear thinking about.”
They looked at each other nodded, and went parallel to the mountains trying to gain a bit of distance.