Dreams of a Stormy Past
Darkness took her and she felt as though she were falling through some godless void. The dark pressed in on all sides, crushing her mind and heart alike as the cold of it seeped through her skin and into her very bones. She opened her mouth to scream and choked as the darkness flooded her lungs.
She jerked. She was no longer falling. She shook her long blond hair and realised with a start that she was on horseback, her arms clinging to the bright burnished steel of a huge figure that sat astride the steed in front of her.
She blinked, it couldn't be, it wasn’t possible. She felt cold and looked up towards the sky. The angry clouds pelted her with their wrathful deluge, the cold water seeping past her cloak to soak the thin brown dress she wore under it. She shivered and pulled it closer with one hand in a futile attempt to ward off the cold.
The large figure seemed to notice her shifting and spoke with a deep voice that reverberated in her head like the distant thunder of the storm that enveloped them. She smiled, the voice was rough but not at all worrying. In fact she felt safe just hearing it again.
She looked around, the rain was so heavy that she could scarcely see more than a dozen paces clearly. Part of her knew they were nearing the end of the road though, something deep inside screaming that she had been here before. She quashed the feeling and gripped the Knight’s armour harder as their mount nickered in fear.
She felt the Knight tense as the horse stopped dead in its tracks.
“What is it? Why are we stopping?” She asked the armoured man, her small voice that of a child. For some reason this struck her as odd, as if this was not her voice nor her body. She felt herself looking around the Knight’s bulk to see what was ahead, and immediately wished she hadn't.
Ahead through the mist and rain were a trio of dark figures, she felt a shiver of recognition flash through her heart even though she had never seen them before to her own recollection. They advanced, still far enough away as to not be a direct threat, or so she thought.
A sudden buzzing noise gurgled through the air and she noticed something flying towards them at great speed. Its energy so great as to turn the very rain on its path to a vaporous mist. The Knight gave a shout of alarm and jerked the horse’s reins to the side. This proved to be the correct move as the object sailed past and impacted a sturdy tree behind them with a wicked thud. Her eyes widened as splinters were thrown far and wide, when they settled she could make out a fist sized hole dug straight to the heart of the mighty tree.
But she didn’t get a chance to linger on it long as the horse took off at a dead gallop a moment later. She felt the jolts of its hooves as it left the muddy path. The animal frantic as more buzzing objects whirled past them, at times impacting the trees they dodged through and other times seeming to whip past them into empty space.
She screamed in terror and then grunted as the horse jumped. Time seemed to slow as they went airborne, the rain drop’s glittered in the dim light of the forest like tiny gemstones. Everywhere was greenery and the scent of living things, the verdant atmosphere giving an impossible contrast to their grave peril. She jerked as something grazed her shoulder and looked down to see a slightly smoking hole through her cloak. The rain quickly put out the embers but she still shivered at the closeness of the miss. Less than an inch to the right and she would likely not still be alive.
The Knight uttered an oath or perhaps a curse and pulled the reins hard making the poor creature skid to a stop. The horse panted, slavering foam leaked from its lips as its dark brown eyes rolled wildly in its head. The poor creature was in abject terror, much like she herself.
The Knight turned to look at her, their face masked by the full plate helm they wore, their magical spear now gripped in one of their gauntleted hands. “Are you alright lass?” they asked in that same gruff voice. She shook her head. “Well, get ready to hold on tight, as soon as we have a second to rest we shall continue on.”
No sooner had the steel armoured man said it then another buzzing projectile honed in straight towards them. She watched in amazement as the Knight was able to deflect the projectile using the enchanted spear. A halo of water droplets ringing its blue steeled head as it seemed to hum with potential in the Knight’s hand.
The dark trees obscured her vision of where it had come from, but she still shuddered in fear. Somewhere in that darkness the three killers were lurking, just waiting for an opportunity to strike her dead. She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and threw an arm out in the direction, causing the Knight to jerk that way in response.
It was well she did so too as another of those shining metal spikes was launched at them from the dark figure’s hand. It was fast, impossibly so. There was no way the figure had thrown it by hand at such speed, that must have meant they were a magic wielder, a powerful one too if their attacks were any indication.
Once more the Knight deflected the attack, a spear of water shooting from the tip of the spear to intercept the dart. She watched wide eyed as it fell harmlessly to the ground, landing in a bed of moss and toadstools that grew from a rotten log. Her eyes widened even more as the metal spike then slowly lifted off the ground and floated lazily back towards the assassin. They must be controlling them with some sort of earth based magic, where the intuition came from she knew not. She was only minimally versed in such schools of thought after all.
Another figure moved in the woods distant, the shadow of the branches above sheltered them from the rain somewhat, but the resulting darkness made it ever more difficult to see what lay beyond the twisted gnarls and cantankerous undergrowth.
Almost as soon as she thought it she saw an amber bolt of electricity arc between the trees. It stopped far short of them, the bolt striking the bole of a tree with a sharp crack. The flash of light that escaped around the side of the trunk was near blinding, but that wasn’t her main fear. Instead she was concerned by the continuous hail of metal spikes that the Knight continued to deflect. Their strain evident even as they blocked, deflected or halted every projectile before it could reach them.
The Knight spat, “Surely they must tire of these accursed magics soon. They cannot be as powerful as that.”
She nodded, though the Knight surely didn’t see it. The horse shifted under her, its head tossing as it made a low noise that sounded a bit like a groan. The Knight watched as another bolt of lightning arced through the forest only to this time hit a thick bush and set it alight.
“Hah, their paltry magic tricks are no use. We shall make a clean getaway yet Lass.” The Knight spoke with a confidence that she felt bolster her own mood, the fear seeming to melt away when the imposing figure spoke. She knew in her heart that she would be safe as long as he was alive, but as she mused that another thought wormed its way into the far corner of her mind.
‘He is already dead.’
She shook her head, her blond hair soaked as it whipped water droplets through the air. She had no reason to listen to the strange nagging voice in her mind, it was just the darkness talking she told herself.
Another series of metal projectiles whistled towards them and the Knight tensed, a chuckle escaping the giant’s masked face as they prepared to defend another assault. But this time something was fundamentally different. The projectiles halted suddenly and she felt the Knight stop, their confusion evident as their spear lowered slightly. What could the dark figures be up to now, she began to wonder.
All at once a powerful surge of electricity smashed its way through the undergrowth towards them, unlike before it seemed directed. She only had time to notice the amber bolt arc between the metal spikes before it struck them. She heard the horse’s gurgling scream as she was thrown bodily through the air. Head over heels she tumbled before alighting upon the mossy ground with a solid thud that drove the air from her lungs.
She pushed herself off the ground, struggling to breathe as her paralysed lungs resisted her attempts to fill them. After another second of this she felt something in her cest shift slightly accompanied by a grinding sensation. All at once she gulped in a tremendous breath, the gasp was strangely quiet in her ears. In fact all she seemed to be able to hear was a distant ringing, as if festival bells were tolling just over the next hill.
She stood on shaky legs and took a step, winching as one of her ankles protested. She must have twisted it in her tumble as she had been thrown from the horse.
‘The horse!’ she thought. She limped back towards where she had flung and stopped in her tracks. In the place the Knight had sat atop his noble steed there remained only a blackened pile of grisly remains. The charred chunks of what she could only assume used to be the horse were strewn about the entire clearing. The charred black bones of it’s collapsed ribcage still smouldering in the downpour.
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Where was the Knight? The words that had appeared unbidden in her mind echoed through them once more. ‘He is already dead’
She shook her head and screamed. He wasn’t, he couldn't be.
As if answering her silent plea she saw him, the Knight stood to their feet slowly as if in great pain. As she rushed to their side she soon saw why. The Knight groaned as they stood, a great black scorch running down their right side, small curls of smoke issuing out from the gaps in their armoured plate.
“You are hurt!” She exclaimed, placing her tiny hands on his side. She pulled her hands back as if stung, the metal was still hot to the touch, small hisses and rising curls of steam appeared as heavy raindrops fell upon them from above.
The Knight just shook their helmeted head slightly. “It is nothing, we need to keep moving. Please, follow me. Quickly!” with that the Knight strode away from the blasted remains of their steed and she hastened to follow.
Her short legs made climbing over the rough terrain difficult but her fear hastened her steps and allowed her to keep up with her protector as they limped along through the trees. They continued in this manner for another two minutes before the Knight groaned and stopped, pressing a gauntleted hand against a nearby tree as they stopped to catch their breath.
She passed him and then stopped as well, in front of them the forest ended. The mossy ground giving way to a sheer cliff. As she glanced over the side she could just make out the white rapids of a fast flowing river down below, so far as to make her heart leap into her throat.
She heard the Knight curse again, the oath leaving his lips with a snarl. As she turned to see the source of their anxiety she noticed with a pang of dread that the three dark figures had returned. They stood not more than twenty paces away, their menacing black cloaks dripped with rain and their armour was streaked with moisture that seemed to have no effect on them.
The Knight drew his longsword, the blade made of the same enchanted blue steel as his spear. With both weapons held at the ready they entered a low guard stance, their body seeming to tense beneath the armour they wore. Though she couldn't see his face, she could well imagine the mask of determination that must have surely spread across it as they faced down the terrible dark figures that hunted her.
She waited for the hissing of the metal spikes to begin but it remained silent. The rain had intensified and the beating of the deluge upon the branches caused a dull roar that filled her ears and mind like the remembered sound of the sea. She shook her head, hazy memories that were not hers flashed through her mind unbidden. She shook them off, it wasn't the time or the place to entertain fantasies or dreams. This was real, or was it?
That voice echoed in her mind again, strangely familiar and yet impossibly different. ‘You need to wake up Diane.’
She stepped back, one foot slipping slightly as she drew close to the cliff’s edge. She put her hands to her head and tried to shut out the thoughts. They weren't hers, they were not real. ‘What is real?’ the voice asked in her mind.
Diane yelled, the Knight not seeming to notice or react as they took a step to the left. She watched as one of the assassins darted forwards, breaking ranks and drawing a long curving blade from somewhere under their dark cloak. They moved with inhuman speed, their legs a blur and their blade death incarnate as they arrowed towards her, their dark mask marked by two red slashes that crossed over their eyes.
She gasped as they skidded to a halt, the Knight moving to block their way. “What, too scared to fight me, tiny man?” The Knight boomed confidently, though she could see the stiffness in their movements she understood. They would protect her to the bitter end, no matter what.
The assassin moved like caged lightning, but the Knight was fast too. Not as fast as the dark armoured killer, but they had the advantage of being on the defensive with two weapons. The dark curved saber met the Knight’s blue steel sword head on, their contact releasing a crack of energy so potent that it forced both of them back a step and vaporised the rain in a sphere around them. She was knocked onto her rear by the energy, one arm slipping to dangle over the cliff’s edge.
Diane gasped as the sensation of falling shocked her, her vision darkening for a moment as if she were losing consciousness. With a supreme effort of will she dragged herself back and over the edge unto the moss carpeting of the forest floor once again. Her dress tore in several places as she did so but it was no longer her main concern.
As she panted and tried to catch her breath she saw the Knight fighting against the dark clad assassin again. Once.. twice.. three times the steel clad man deflected crushing blows that would have killed her a dozen times over, the power of the deflected strikes enough to shatter the bark on the surrounding trees leaving their trunks barren and scarred. The Knight sidestepped an obvious overhead slash and used their spear to shoot a blast of water directly at the red slashed figure’s head. The force was enough to knock them flat on their back and for a minute she dared to hope that they might be dead themselves.
But it wasn’t to be. She watched in horrid fascination as the assassin climbed back to their feet, their neck twisted at a heavy angle. They reached up and twisted their head with a crunch, straightening it.
“Oh, not had enough then have you?” The Knight shouted before charging the man. They dodged to the side, noticeably slower than they had been before. Clearly they were taking damage from the Knight’s powerful attacks, but that was exactly the move that the other two assassins were looking for. Once more that same awful hiss filled the air and the Knight spun towards this new attack. It was well that he did so as the first two projectiles missed him entirely, the third did not.
The shining steel poleyn of the Knight was struck at an angle, the force of the blow tearing the entire plate from the man’s knee. He yelled in pain, a bright splash of crimson staining the fat clods of moss that littered the ground. She gasped, her hands flying to her mouth, this couldn't be happening again. She frowned, what had she meant by again?
The question was lost amid the action as the first assassin rushed the Knight like a feral boar. The headlong charge was interrupted by the Knight’s longsword. The shimmering water that enveloped the blade splashing against the chest of the charging killer moments before he reached the Knight, slowing them for a heartbeat. It was in this moment that the Knight struck with his other hand, the blued tip of the spear punching straight through the red X on the assassin's mask as if by design. The bladed head of the weapon punched through the back of the assassin’s skull amid a shower of gore that stained the bole of the tree behind them a dark crimson.
A slow growl emitted from the third figure, apparently the death of their comrade in arms had angered them as all at once the sound of electrical discharge and hissing spines increased in intensity.
“That’s one done for. Stay behind me, I will protect you.” The Knight took a step back, putting a tree between them and the two other figures. She squeezed her eyes closed as she shakily regained her footing.
Her mouth opened and she spoke, the words coming from her sounding childish and full of fear. “Are we going to die here?”
The Knight turned and looked at her. The dark slit of their visor hid their eyes, but she knew with a shiver that they were boring into her very soul at that moment.
The Knight shook their helmeted head. “I can make no promises. But I shall do all in my power to prevent that alternative.”
She shrank back, the whipping sound of one of the metal spikes sounding dangerously close this time. The Knight deflected another two of them before she felt the hairs on her arm and neck stand on end. She smelled something metallic, like the burning of a forge or the smelting of iron on a hot dry day. She turned and screamed as the third assassin strode out to the cliff's edge not ten paces away.
The Knight turned from their defense and noticed the figure. Their arms were raised and a coruscating halo of electrical sparks surrounded their head and shoulders. It was as if they were gathering the lightning in the air to them, indeed as she watched a bolt seemed to strike them. The brilliant white hot fork alighting upon their outstretched hands and gathering into a ball that they then hurled towards her. The next few heartbeats seemed to play out in slow motion, her mind acutely aware of every tiny detail but unable to affect herself or surroundings as the horrid scene played out.
The rain hissed and flashed to steam as the lightning left the assassin’s fingertips, the roiling ball of angry light and fire aimed straight at her heart. She heard the crackle of the wind, the groan of the river far below, the rain lashed her face as the storm bellowed in rage, but it was too late. There was nothing she could do.
In a silver flash the Knight leapt in front of the bolt, the ball of destruction striking them in a flash of light so brilliant that she could see the bones of her hand as she held it up to shield her eyes. The force of it pushed her back, her feet slipping on the edge of the cliff. She gasped, her breath held as she hung in that terrible infinite moment before the drop, arms flailing for balance. Her eyes flicked to the charred husk of her protector, they were no more.
‘He is already dead’
She began to sob, but the air wouldn't come, sucked from her lungs by the air that rushed past her as she fell. She frowned, this wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair. What had she even done to deserve this? She wondered to herself. She could hear the roar of the river below growing closer with each passing instant, the cliff receding as she plummeted to her doom.
She closed her eyes.
The shock of the cold liquid caused her to sit up violently, gasping for the breath that had been ripped from her lungs. She blinked rapidly, she wasn’t dead, in fact she wasn’t submerged in roiling icy water either.
She shook her head, long blond hair flailing as she raised her hands to her face. Why was she wet? Of course, she had fallen in the river.
She opened her eyes, the surroundings resolving slowly as her awareness returned. She was covered in some manner of sticky liquid, no it wasn’t water. She raised an arm and sniffed, it was beer.
She looked around, the clearing full of sleeping figures covered in colorful shimmering leaves. No, not leaves.
A voice came from behind her, causing her to spin and grab instinctively for the sword at her hip. In front of her stood a small portly dwarf, their curly brown hair rumpled by sleep. “I feared you wouldn't wake at all like the others.”
She nodded as she glanced around once more, “What is happening Graham? What are these?” She gestured to the others scattered around the camp.
The dwarf hefted their large ale mug. “I don’t know. But from the looks of it they are some sort of bugs, maybe butterflies. And I really don't like the look of them.”
She nodded and stood, the memory of her dream fresh in her mind. “Well then, let’s wake them all up too.”
Graham nodded and hefted their weapon of choice. The empty mug was soon to be filled, the scent of the dark beer wafting through the clearing as they set about saving their friends.
END OF STORY