Three? Three at once? It wasn't as if Aisling had ever scrapped with a Crown Hunter before, but for a first encounter this was definitely bordering on excessive. No telling how strong they'd be, which meant this was a real dangerous bout.
In particular, that shrewd-looking mage seemed like a problem - Uncle Cairbre had always warned her about older awakened. The ones that survived usually came out the other end stronger for it. He wasn’t alone, either, another mage was in their ranks. It was basic sense that mages got more dangerous the more of them you crammed into a single space, what with them being able to cover for one another. Still, that girl looked about ready to topple over from her nerves. She very nearly took off running when she recognized Sybil.
Well, Aisling couldn’t blame the girl. A freshly-born Pioneer returned from the brink of death to stamp through anyone who stands in the way of her and her lover? It’d make for a half-decent story, at least.
“Let us on through fer Adeline and we’ll consider not makin’ ye into some fresh corpses.” Aisling called out, more a provocation than an actual attempt to bargain.
“Are you daft?!” The young mage shouted, drawing the gaze of the archer, “We’re capturing you, whether alive or-” A hand was placed on her shoulder, that of the older mage. He gave her a look, one that seemed to say, “Don’t bother with this.” Maeve seemed similarly exasperated with Aisling’s antics.
And she was, really. They were there to fight, not to mud-sling and name-call.
That sharp-eyed light mage drew something from his pocket. A glass bottle? Maeve waved a hand, sparkling spores flying free from her palm as if they were freshly-shaken from a mushroom. They flew towards Aisling, carried on nothing but the air, and then surrounded her. Strength, speed, reflexes - every aspect Aisling needed to excel in fighting. Aisling was reminded (as she was every time that they fought together) that, without her sister, she wouldn’t have even lived to be able to carve her branch.
Maeve prepared her magic, readying herself to send it sprawling through the ripe soil of this garden - there wasn’t a space more perfect for her to fight in. Well, maybe if the cobblestones were absent…
The elder mage drew back his glass bottle, his arm swinging forward in a surprisingly practiced manner. The bottle flew in a short arc toward the ground, before striking against it and shattering. Maeve eyed it curiously for the barest of moments. There was no mana there, so then what was its purpose?
The greatbow wielder looked to be preparing her attack, quickly drawing the attention of Aisling. It was clear to her that whatever drawback came from taking a while to attack was paid off in full (or more) by the attack’s power. Fortunately, she had a trick up her sleeve - one that most awakened weren’t capable of dealing with. With a quick step, Aisling avoided a small spark of lightning, and then a much faster wave of waving, fluctuating light. It was only a couple of seconds before she had closed the gap between herself and that archer.
She stomped with every bit of her weight, digging her boots into the soil. It was necessary, to enhance her connection between earth and body - it would be fair to say that her aura allowed the earth to become like an extension of her own body. Aisling felt her aura coursing through the dirt, moving and coalescing bits to respond to her will. And then, suddenly, terribly suddenly, the dwarf raised her hands and clapped.
With wide eyes, the archer leapt up, just as two solid walls of earth rose from the garden. They fell toward one another with a great deal of force, leaving no room for anything caught between them. But the archer, swift as she was, would surely escape its grasp, wouldn’t it?
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Aisling knew better.
There was a crunch, and then a gasp, and then a scream. Aisling could only hear the bones cracking because of how close she was, but it was inaudible to the rest of the combatants. The dwarf turned to dodge another searing bit of light, just in time to see fungus sprout up in a ring around the younger mage. Maeve was targeting the inexperienced one first? Her sister really was a pragmatic fighter, bordering on cruel.
Maeve assumed, of course, that the weakest links were the best to break first. The less mosquitoes there were buzzing around your face, the more time you could spend on the true threat. And it was of the greatest import that the two of them clear out these lower Hunters in order to aid Sybil.
Well, Maeve still wasn’t quite sure if that girl needed help.
The younger mage stared stunned at the mushrooms near her feet. Maeve waved another hand out toward her, sending spores flying off - just in case the first round failed to do the job. Hop out o’ the circle and run, if ye have nothing else. She thought to herself, refocusing her gaze on the light mage. After a spin of his staff, he brought it down to the ground, slamming its butt into the dirt. Energy sparked up and out like a fountain, and dozens of solid beams of light flew forth.
Half toward Aisling, and half toward Maeve. There was something to them this time, something that turned them from projectiles no different from arrows into something more… Intelligent? Aisling leapt backward, watching as two of the missiles struck the earth at the same time as a resounding explosion (no doubt Maeve’s exploding fungus.) The rest seemed to adjust course, still working their way through the air toward her. Each one was a comet lighting up the evening sky, a missile hellbent on destroying the both of them.
The dwarf dove down to the ground, hands scraping against the earth. Bits of clumped-up dirt and stone accumulated on her fists, veiling them in the stuff. A couple more of the bolts struck the ground behind her as she did. After another moment of rising up and sprinting, Aisling skirted past the bits of broken glass.
“How stupid are ye?!” She roared, grinning with satisfaction. She clapped the dirt beside it with her dirt-covered hand, covering up the shards with it. Glass was reflective, wasn’t it? If it could reflect the light in his mana, it might’ve given him a few more doors to work through. Not far from her, she saw the younger mage. She had made it out of the circle, but only barely - the explosion clearly got her good, seeing how singed she was. Looked like she was unconscious, too, probably from the cloud of spores around her head.
That one was a real nasty bit of work. You needed aura or fine mana control to avoid getting poisoned.
Something in the back of the battle caught Maeve’s eye. The archer, still caught between those bits of earth - she was squirming, trying to nock an oversized arrow in that bow of her’s. “Aisling!” She yelled, “Finish yer work next time!”
One, two, three of those beams cut through the dirt as she quickly backpedaled, preparing a spell to eliminate the rest. Her hands moved in tandem to form a circle, and then she outcast one of them as if to throw a handful of powder. Just from its contact with the air, that powder began to catch flame and ignite. And then, with the same weight as thunder, it detonated.
To her luck, the beams of light were shattered from the force.
Aisling pivoted, switching directions only enough to stop short of retreading old ground. Maeve seemed to be making her way toward the light mage, too. Perhaps smartly, or perhaps foolishly, he was more focused on the charging dwarf covered in stone, as opposed to the cutely-dressed one. Aisling was more than happy to take the attention off of her sister, though.
With a grin, she held her path toward the mage, the last of those projectiles digging and crashing behind her. It was dangerous to risk it all like this - but all of this was a gamble.
He had a nervous glint in his eye, and with a quivering hand he moved that staff, aiming it toward Aisling. She saw the ruby crack, and a horrible flash of light.
It was time to gamble again.