Sarah could feel the dark skinned elf’s eyes on her, even though he was standing all the way out in the middle of the bridge. On the far shore beyond, more orcs than she had seen at Corrington had already assembled, and more were still arriving.

“Every orc that ever lived in the Southward Expansion must be here,” Stanley breathed as the colour drained from his face, “How in Treto’s name did we win at Lanfer?”

“They were hopelessly divided then,” Gareth replied absently, “And now here they stand, united. Varuna’s greatest fear.”

Sarah glanced at the halfling who looked like he was deep in discussion with someone else. She turned her attention back to Voritor and had a feeling that it was likely to be with him.

“So, you weren’t just ignoring me.”

The hair on Sarah’s neck stood on end as she heard the familiar high pitched voice. She saw an elven soldier with eyes as black as coals standing close to her, eyeing her up and down.

“I thought it was strange to see you despite not sensing your presence,” the elf continued, speaking with Voritor’s voice. The halfling’s guards scrambled to position themselves between him and the new threat as the possessed elf glared at him.

“So, you’ve severed her,” Voritor said. There was an edge of anger to his voice, something Sarah had never heard in the Drow before. “Do you know what will happen to…”

“I am well aware of the risks,” Gareth cut him off as Pairel handed him his spear and placed a bucket of water by his feet.

Voritor chuckled through the elf. It was a hissing, baiting chuckle that set Sarah’s soul on edge. “How many did you sacrifice to sever Agni’s Chosen?”

“What?” Sarah gasped in shock. Does that mean the priests all…

“They knew the risks,” Gareth replied flatly, “What are your intentions here?”

“I am only after your head,” the elf’s smile was unnaturally wide, made all the more unsettling by his eyes that were locked onto the halfling, “Fight me on the bridge, and I will spare everyone else and withdraw my forces.”

The halfling snorted. “So, that’s what you’re after. I thought I saw the sword of Findendor at your hip.”

“So, what say you to my proposal?”

“Unfortunately for you, I now know what you intend to do,” the halfling replied, “And I have no intention to make your life easier.”

“Is that so?” the elf smirked.

Gareth placed one end of the spear into the water. The spearhead of pure blue energy erupted from the other end moments later.

“There’s no need for that,” Voritor sneered, “there will be plenty of time for violence soon enough. Just know this, severing Agni’s Chosen will not set me back as much as you or your master hoped.”

The elf’s eyes rolled back in his head as he collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Sarah followed Gareth’s gaze out to the bridge and saw that the Drow was already returning to the orcs on the shore.

Sarah whirled around to face Gareth. “What did he mean by that? Why is severing me dangerous?”

“That is no concern of yours,” the halfling replied.

Before Sarah could question him further, he turned to Pairel, “Inform the men that we are up against Ratri’s Chosen but do not fear. We, Varuna’s children are on an island within the Blessed Lands. They cannot hope to win.”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Look, our scouts are returning!” one of the elves cried.

Sarah rushed to the parapet and spotted a dozen elves burst out of the forest, running full tilt to the shore. Moments later, their pursuers, wolf riding orcs, came bounding out. Sarah looked to where the bridge met the shore. It was teaming with orcs and there was no way for them to get close to it. She then scanned the shore for boats and found none.

“What are they doing?” she breathed as they continued running for the shore. “Are they going to swim?”

To her surprise, once they reached the water, they were able to run across its surface, barely creating a ripple as they sprinted towards the island. Their pursuers were forced to stop at the shore and could only hurl insults as they watched them run towards the island. Once the scouts arrived at the walls, water spouts erupted from the lake, each transporting one of their number safely to the top of the wall.

On the shore, Sarah watched as the orcs set to work felling trees with their axes. “They’re probably going to build rafts,” she remarked.

“Let them try,” Gareth smirked as he returned to the parapet.

Sarah gave him a sideways glance knowing that he was hiding something important from her. She still felt weak, and her senses still had not recovered. Colours seemed less vibrant, and sounds sounded muted, as though she had cotton stuffed in her ears.

Gareth glanced at her and sighed. “The spell I cast should have no lasting effect on your health. As for your senses, they should recover in time as well.”

“Then what did he mean by it being dangerous?” Sarah pressed.

“You could have died,” the halfling admitted.

“That isn’t the whole story,” Sarah snapped hotly, “I can see it in your eyes.”

Gareth fell silent as he returned his attention to the shore. Sarah bored her eyes into him, sensing that he was close to his tipping point. Her instincts were soon proven correct and the halfling sighed again. “Do you know how magic works?”

“I have a rough idea,” Sarah replied, and began reciting the opening passage of every beginner’s magic book she had ever read, “Channels exist allowing magic to flow into people from the realm of the Gods. Those who have such channels open within them are able to command a portion of the Gods’ powers.”

“Very good,” Gareth remarked dryly, “And do you know what happens when you become an Avatar of the Gods?”

Sarah shook her head.

“Chosen have larger channels than most. This allows them to channel more power and for the Gods to enter your body and take over,” Gareth explained.

Sarah nodded thoughtfully. That made sense.

“However, a God can only enter through these channels and cannot leave until the vessel, your body, dies,” the halfling continued, “Only with the vessel’s death can They return to the Plane of the Gods.”

Sarah’s eyes widened. “So you’re saying Agni’s trapped inside me?”

Gareth nodded gravely. “Gods cannot survive in this realm without magical energy from their own.”

“So severing me means that he will die?” Sarah gasped.

“Yes,” Gareth replied

“What happens if he dies?” Sarah gasped. “Will we lose the use of fire?”

“You have a point there,” Gareth said as his eyes widened, “We will still be able to use fire, of course. But fire magic? Maybe not.”

Sarah frowned. That would make life harder for some, but not impossible.

“Do you regret being severed?” Gareth ventured.

“I don’t know,” Sarah admitted, “But I am having second thoughts.”

“Well it’s too late now,” Gareth said. He paused and smiled demurely, “Unless of course you wish to make the sacrifice to allow him to pass back to Their realm...”

Sarah froze and Gareth chuckled upon seeing the conflicted look on her face. “It’s probably too alte for that, anyway. Not so much as a glimmer of Him remains.”

Sarah felt a surge of guilt. She had conspired in the death of a God, and the consequences of that could be so great that she could scarcely bare thinking of them.

“Why did you do it?” she asked, “Even Ratri’s Chosen thinks it dangerous. I’ve never seen him angry before.”

“Varuna told me to,” the halfling stated flatly. “He has not led me astray yet.”

“Water Speaker!” someone called out before Sarah could ask Gareth if Varuna could be trusted when it came to His hated rival.

They turned to see Captain Avariel looking up at them from ground level. “I think it’s time to summon Varuna’s Veil.”

“I’m afraid you’re right,” Gareth called back tiredly.

“The two of you had better get to safety,” the halfling warned, looking ridiculous as he stood on top of the bucket.

“And where would safety be?” Sarah asked.

“The south gate,” the halfling replied, “If it all goes wrong, that is where we will be evacuating from.”

“Are there boats there?” Sarah asked, remembering that there was only one bridge leading to the island.

Gareth gave her a funny look. “Boats? Of course there aren’t any boats.”

Before Sarah could press him for clarification, the water gushed out of the bucket, transporting the halfling down to ground level.

Sarah gave Stanley an inquisitive look, wanting to know what he made of what they had learned.

“I think you’ve been taken for a ride,” the lanky man remarked grimly.

She heard Gareth shout something in elvish and turned to see him standing in one of the channels holding his spear high over his head. The elves around him bowed their heads deferentially and when Sarah looked back out over the wall, she saw that everything beyond the walls had been enveloped in a thick mist.