“Stay on your side, fiend!” bellowed the blonde elf. As he spoke, he brandished a long, slim sword that glinted in the flickering firelight. “If you cross, we will be forced to take action!”
The dark elf planted her hands on her hips and sneered, “You haven’t the power to threaten me, cur.”
“Call me cur once again, and I shall –”
“Cur,” she purred. “Filthy. Mangy. Obedient. Dog.”
The blonde elf’s face screwed up in a rictus of anger, and he took a step forward. However, he stopped just before he stepped across the silver line cutting across the floor and dividing the chamber into two halves. Instead, he spat, “The Queen of Light shall hear of this, shadow!”
The dark elf woman spread her arms out wide and bowed as she replied, “By all means, tell your decrepit mistress that you are a mangy cur. I shall back up the claim, should she seek a confirmation.”
“You…”
Elijah backed away, having seen enough of the exchange. It wasn’t the first time the two had traded insults, and he suspected it would not be the last, either. During his previous reconnaissance, he’d discovered a few key things. First, there was quite a lot of animosity between the two sets of elves. He had no idea if that was indicative of the rest of the universe, but light elves and dark elves very much hated one another.
Second, the two sides simply refused to pass from one wing to the other, instead rigidly remaining in their territory. The exchanges he’d overheard seemed to suggest that bad things would happen to whoever crossed that line, though he’d yet to discover what form those repercussions might take.
And finally, he had absolutely zero chance of using his previous strategy to take care of the two forces patrolling the Light and Shadow wings. For one, there were just too many elves, and each one was armed, armored, and felt far more powerful than the ogres Elijah had killed. For another, he strongly suspected that any hostile actions would have both sides bearing down on him, and with unknown abilities.
No – he needed a different strategy, so he’d spent much of the past eight hours reconnoitering the area. During that time, the seeds of a proper plan had begun to take root, and Elijah felt that it would only take a bit of cultivation – the mundane sort – to create an opportunity to destroy all of the elves in one go.
He’d probably lose out on some kill energy – or experience, as they called it in Norcastle – but if things went right, he wouldn’t be in nearly as much danger as he’d encountered while fighting the ogres.
But first, Elijah needed the right opportunity. So, as he waited, he continued to explore the wings. Cloaked in Guise of the Unseen, he could come and go as he pleased. Neither the light or dark elves seemed capable of detecting him. If they could, he would’ve long since gotten their attention.
As he explored, he came to appreciate the mirrored décor. The shadow side was decorated all in black, with silver accents to give it shape. Meanwhile, the light wing was the opposite, with white stone and tiles featuring gold accents. It made for an interesting study in contrasts, and an aesthetic that Elijah could very much appreciate.
Still, the two wings were not without hidden dangers. In addition to the guards – which were ubiquitous – both wings featured themed traps. In the dark side, that meant shadows that often weren’t shadows at all, but instead deep holes that ended in jagged spikes. The other wing had corridors crisscrossed with beams of light that Elijah suspected were capable of cutting a person in two.
Both obstacles made traversal of the wings in question an extraordinary pain, and keeping himself from falling afoul of those traps had definitely kept Elijah on his toes. Still, his impatience to progress and gain enough kill energy to get level forty had almost gotten him killed a couple of times. Only his copious experience had kept him from making deadly mistakes.
However, now that Elijah knew the dangers, he could avoid them easily enough. The biggest issue was that he was forced to go against his instincts and avoid the shadows. Fortunately, Guise of the Unseen as well as his chameleon-like natural camouflage was enough to help him avoid detection.
Otherwise, he found the chambers housing the two lieutenants, both of which were hidden by their native elements. For the shadow lieutenant Tulariel, that meant deep, impenetrable shadow. The light lieutenant was hidden by a sheet of white light. As usual, Elijah didn’t dare cross the thresholds for fear of alerting the lieutenants as well as their underlings. With that suspicion in mind, Elijah knew he needed to take care of the guards before he engaged the lieutenants that were the subject of his Task.
Eventually, he found himself following a lone dark elf as he approached the chamber at the center of the two wings. As normal, his patrol coincided with that of one of the light elves, and the pair commenced with their banter.
Elijah ignored it, instead waiting for the perfect time to implement his plan.
* * *
Par seethed at the mere sight of the uppity elven woman on the opposite side of the Sacred Line. She wore a contemptuous expression, and though that wasn’t uncommon, it still set Par’s blood to boiling. How dare she look at him like that? He had half a mind to leap across the line and show her the error of her ways.
And then, he would teach her the meaning of respect. By the time he was finished, she would be begging him for the mercy of death. He wouldn’t give it, though. Instead, he would keep her as a pet. A broken warning for anyone who dared to berate the servants of the one, true Mistress.
Oh, yes. She would make quite the example.
That pretty, little fantasy comforted him right up until he heard the elven woman speak. And then reality came crashing down on him when he realized that he was powerless to do anything about her impudence. The Sacred Line existed for a reason, and to cross it was to surrender to death. Par was angry. Furious, really. However, he was not stupid, and he knew better than to give in to his instincts.
He wasn’t one of those fat ogres downstairs, after all.
He could think, and more importantly, he was more than capable of self-restraint. However, the little light elf was trying his patience with every moment she remained among the living.
“I thought I smelled something awful,” she said, wrinkling her perfect nose. “Clearly, His Dark Reverence prefers unclean lackeys. Unsurprising, given his own proclivities.”
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Par clenched his fists in fury. “Your petty insults have no effect on me, wench.”
“Insults? Nay! I merely worry for your hygiene, cousin,” she said. “It is unsanitary to walk around in such a state. Unseemly as well. Think of how your filth reflects upon your master’s reputation. Though I suppose if he was worried for such things, he would not have set down his own path of decrepitude. Such a shame, for I hear he was once quite handsome. Now, though…well, to say that it is a great loss is an understatement. Still, he has my pity, cousin. As do you.”
“My Master is –”
“You could convert,” she said brightly. “Come to the light, cousin. We would welcome you with open arms. After a shower, of course. We wouldn’t want your filth to spread.”
“You are filthy!” he shouted.
“Such a pointed rejoinder. Surely, your wit knows no bounds.”
Par stepped forward, coming right up to the sacred line. But he didn’t dare cross. Not until his Master completed his cultivation and decided to take the citadel for his own. When he did, not only would the blasphemous light elves fall, but so would that monstrous champion. The Reaver himself would find himself writhing beneath Tulariel’s boot. The Reaver would beg for mercy, and yet, it would not be granted.
Because The Dark One was not merciful. Nor was he cruel. He was simply unstoppable. Irresistible. He would one day rule the world. And after that, the universe. Eventually, he would go to the Abyss and challenge the Ravener himself for dominance. Par was so certain of it that he couldn’t keep a smile from spreading across his dark face.
“Do you crave insults, then? Enjoy them, do you?” sneered the blonde elf from only a few feet away. “If so, you will –”
“Prattle on, little elf. I know that my Master will soon tear your entrails from your body and hold you up as an example of what happens when you follow the wrong path. You will be powerless to stop it. You will beg and plead, but it will do no good. When the Master is finished with you, he will put a stop to your disgusting Mistress’s misdeeds. She will bow before him, or she will die like everyone else who has ever challenged my Master. That, I promise, cousin.”
She looked as if she was about to respond, but she clearly thought better of it. Instead, she stamped her foot, let out a huff, and turned on her heel before striding away. Par was just feeling a sense of triumph when he felt something grab him around the waist. He didn’t even have time to react before he found himself sailing through the air.
Par windmilled his arms as he flew across the sacred line, only to collide with the retreating light elf woman. The pair of slender, armored figures clattered to the floor in a tangled heap. Before Par could extract himself, panic set in.
He had crossed the line.
His heart beat out of his chest as the realization took hold. He had done the unthinkable, putting himself at the mercy of the light elves. Panicked, he struggled to free himself and retreat, but he could not accomplish that feat before he felt a vice-like grip around his throat. Fiery pain erupted from the light elf’s touch, and an outraged shout tore free from her perfect lips.
“You dare?!”
“I didn’t mean –”
He could choke out no further words because her grip tightened even further. More, he felt the strength draining from his body. That was why no one crossed the line. To do so was to put oneself at the mercy of the enemy. For every second he remained on the wrong side, he would grow weaker until nothing but a husk remained.
The light elf was going to kill him far before that, though. He barely had an opportunity to wonder what had thrown him across the sacred line before the pain overtook all rational thought. However, he did catch sight of a pair of emerald eyes glinting from within the shadows of the connected hall.
* * *
Elijah watched as the dark elf died. He’d barely managed to retreat into the relative safety of the corridor before the two elves had collided, and it had been just in time to avoid the light elf’s searching gaze. Now that the dark elf was dead, though, Elijah found himself once again nestled within the concealing embrace of Guise of the Unseen.
The attack – which had been undertaken in his Guardian form – had gone off without a hitch, and though he’d hoped for a longer fight, the results were acceptable. The light elf pushed herself to her feet and, for a long moment, stared down at the withered elf in confusion. Clearly, she was having trouble figuring out why he’d seemingly thrown himself at her.
She was in the middle of trying to make sense of it all when the next part of Elijah’s plan commenced, and a pair of dark elves rounded the corridor’s corner and caught sight of the scene.
They erupted into motion a second later, charging into the chamber and demanding answers. The light elf tried to explain, but the pair were having none of it. Without any further delay, the pair launched themselves across the line, grabbed the light elf, and dragged her back to their side. They hadn’t stayed long enough for the drain to take effect.
The light elf struggled. She screamed. But just as the dark elf had been weakened by being on the other side, so too was she diminished by the darkness. That, combined with the fact that she was outnumbered, sealed her doom.
Elijah watched as the elf’s screams drew more attention, and from both sides. Soon enough, two dozen light elves faced off against just as many dark elves. They screamed insults at one another, each more disgusting than the last. And yet, they restrained themselves.
At first.
Soon enough, though, the insults reached a crescendo, and an enraged light elf screamed bloody murder before launching himself across the line. His fellows followed, and the silver line dividing the two halves of the chamber shattered into a thousand splinters. After that, the fight descended into a bloody melee that provided the perfect backdrop for Elijah to work his magic.
Still in the shadowy corridor, he shifted into his human form and cast two spells in quick succession. First came Swarm, summoning a flock of bats that descended upon the warring elves. Each bite delivered a powerful affliction that would hasten their demise. Meanwhile, Elijah cast Calamity as well, adding to the chaos and delivering plenty of punishment all its own. The wind whipped into a frenzy, sending blades of air arcing through the mass of warriors, and lightning split the sky, electrocuting the unsuspecting elves.
Even as the two spells wrought havoc upon the warriors, Elijah slipped back into his Predator form, then retreated until he left combat. Then, he embraced Guise of the Unseen and returned to the impromptu battlefield. There, he saw the fruits of his labor. More than half the elves had already died, and the battle was still going strong.
Idly, he marveled at how little of a spark it had taken to set everything ablaze. The elves clearly hated one another, and it hadn’t taken much to send them into a battle lust. Still, Elijah knew that it wouldn’t be enough. Some would survive, and he’d have to finish the job himself.
Gradually, the battle wore on, but Elijah didn’t act until only one survivor remained. For the normally slim dark elves, he was quite bulky, and his armor was stained with fresh blood. He jammed his sword into a prone light elf, using the blade to support his weight. Then, he let out a wheezing cackle of mingled incredulity and relief.
He was so occupied that he never even noticed Elijah’s approach.
However, he couldn’t ignore it when the Druid leaped upon his back, dug his claws in, and clamped his jaws down on the base of his skull. The dark elf tried to react, but he was so weakened that the force of Elijah’s bite was enough to burst his skull. He fell dead without any further struggle, and Elijah leaped free, landing nimbly among the corpses.
He’d had a hand in killing each and every one of them, and yet, he’d struck only one killing blow. Still, he’d managed to accomplish his goals – to clear the wings while gaining enough experience to progress to level forty – and that was what was truly important.
Standing over the corpses of his enemies, he let himself return to his human form. Then, he inspected the results of his progression. He’d gained a new ability, and he was eager to inspect it.
Ability:
Iron Scales
Harden your scales, temporarily reducing all damage by 90%. Usable in Guardian Form. Duration dependent on Constitution. Current Duration: 4.2 seconds.
Elijah read the ability’s description with some degree of relief. He’d been a little afraid that he’d gain another enhancement. And while the increases to his attributes were helpful, they were not impactful enough to change a battle by themselves. However, if it worked the way he expected it to, Iron Scales was precisely what he thought he’d need in the coming battles.