He watches as the great oaken gates of the once obscured stronghold open to him, feeling the eyes of its occupants watch his every move.
Enter, Thorn of the Darkseed.
It’s the same voice he’d heard before. The one that offered him the deal he’d expected: Seneca’s life in exchange for peace. It was the kind of peace that made sense to a creature who’d lived for more than a century.
He clutches his locket in his palm as he steps passed the illusory barrier into the world beyond.
You’d have liked this place, he thinks, rubbing his thumb across the locket. Especially you, Rachel. You’d have run around and said ‘Daddy, look! Women run everything here!’ You’d have loved that. It would prove that there was a world where you could be just as strong as all the soldiers going off to fight in the wars. That you could be just as strong as me…
He greets the elves that meet him – a detachment of five Glenmaidens, garbed in flowing, pearly robes that conceals their shimmering armor beneath. ‘Mithril’, he recalled. He’d received his compulsory education on ‘The nature of our long-eared neighbors’ in school but had to admit seeing them up close was a different story. The only one’s he’d ever beheld had already been well-passed their initial seeding. And Seneca wasn’t exactly a glowing example of elven beauty.
Yep, he thinks as they led him to the allotted meeting place. You’d ask mommy if we could stay here for a bit. Maybe you’d take to one of them as an older sister. You always did want one.
“Yes,” he responds to one of them. “I would prefer to settle our business quickly.”
The group lead him towards an obviously false waterfall that conceals yet another illusion. Quite crafty, these elves. But prideful and stubborn – unaware that he was already probing the interior of their base for weak spots. Chinks in the magic oaken armor that defended this place. The swords affixed to the hips of the women too – now they looked like they could do some damage. But their bearers? He judged that, in elven years, most of them were barely a day passed 140, and even at that he doubted they’d seen any real combat in this dismal little forest. That would be their downfall. In war, experience counted for everything.
And yet he has to smile to himself as he watches the waterfall dematerialize before him and melt away into a fine little grove. Because in spite of all his planning and assurances, he can still feel his heart knock against his armored ribs.
Am I really so nervous? he asks himself. The last time I felt like this was during the death of the old you, Raziel. I can still remember the look in your eyes when you knew I’d ordered my withdrawal. I admit – it’s a feeling I thought I’d managed to burn away by now.
Maybe that’s why I need you here with me, Rachel, he says as he emerges into the picturesque woodland pocket and smells the pure air around him. Daddy’s getting old. He must be clever. He’d had never faced the old Lightborn in an open field. But this time…
His eyes scan the woodland area, nodding once to the kneeling Seneca. She’s been muzzled (he’d have done the same if he were them) and is under the care of one particularly youthful Glenmaiden guard. No cloak on this one though. She wears her armor proudly, concealing nothing – least of all the sword that glimmers in her hand. He can respect that.
His eyes move to take in the sight of every tiny coloration of the flower field around him. Scanning for other signs of life. Scanning for what he’s sure he would find…
Then – there. Somewhere around the northern bushes and brambles. Something waiting. Something watching.
He closes his eyes and smiles, turning back to his Elven hosts.
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It’s a shame, Rachel, he thinks. I think you’d have liked this one, too.
…
[Softpaws: Lvl 4]
Increased duration: 60 secs
A single minute is all I’ll need…
Hidden in the bushes beside the grove entrance, I keep my nose low to the ground, keeping my eyes on even the slightest indication of movement.
Myra’s eyes flit to meet mine every few seconds as Seneca squirms beneath her. Her chains have been holding her well, and the muzzle was a stroke of genius on Palka’s part. That girl has way too much crazy crap to say.
“What was he like?” I ask Swiftrunner. “You’ve heard stories about him, right?”
The venerable wolf bows his head beside me. “Grim. Dark. And dangerous – of that there is no doubt. His eyes were of the blackest quality. More like two voids than those possessed by a human being.”
“Great, thanks Swift,” I sigh. “That makes me feel great.”
“Would you rather I lie and tell you he looked like the common pussy cat?”
I paw at my silent companion’s neck. “I suppose honesty is one of your best qualities.”
“So, you will believe me when I tell you that you shall prevail here, Little-Brother,” he replied, hackles raising as the leaves of the grove opening began to spread themselves. “It is destiny itself. No Darkseed or its minions have ever bested a Lightborn in battle since the dawn of time.”
Sure, I think. But I bet there’s also never been a Lightborn quite as small or fluffy as me…
Just at that moment the canopy of leaves fades away completely, and five Glenmaidens enter with their charge.
I have to admit, he’s older than I was expecting and a lot more…beardy. If it wasn’t for his flashy, vine coated armor and broad shoulders, I’d have took him for a scholar, not a soldier.
But behind his withered old skin lies two eyes coated in onyx just like Swiftrunner said. If there’s any humanity in there, I sure as hell can’t see it.
I can feel the tension gnaw at the air as he struts forward, takes a bow, and addresses Myra.
“Hail to you, Miss..?”
“Myrathellon. Glenmaiden.”
He offers her his gauntleted hand. She takes it.
“Many thanks, Myrathellon of the Glenmaidens,” he says – his voice hoarse but clear, ringing out through the whole grove so that the leaves themselves seem to curl away from him. “I am told of the prowess warriors of your Order possess. Acquiring dear Seneca cannot have been easy.”
“She killed two of our order,” Myrathellon replies, standing just as stoic as he is.
Her Sisters have begun to crowd around him, placing themselves strategically. All as planned.
He smiles. I see his mouth upturn in what looks like the beginnings of a laugh from these bushes.
“These things happen in war,” he says.
Okay, little stealthy Lightborn. It’s now or never.
[Softpaws]
ACTIVATED
A chill wind blows through the grove.
“It is a shame such skilled warriors like you still see it fit to resist the touch of Lady Gyko,” Thorn is saying as the hackles on my back begin to rise. “You could do much to bring her love to the rest of this realm. But then, I understand you care little for the petty squabbles of the world outside your walls.”
“The world outside our walls has no need of your evil mistress,” Myra replies. “Especially if this is their destiny.”
She gestures to Seneca as she hoists her up and hands her over to Thorn.
He chuckles dryly at the statement, barely even regarding the still muzzled girl.
The Glenmaidens keep their hands on the hilt of their blades.
[Softpaws: 40 secs remaining]
If I’m gonna do this, it has to be done quickly…
Hold…
“Raziel!” Swiftrunner whispers beside me. “Why do you wait?”
C’mon. Show me what I need here…
“Children rarely know what they need,” Thorn says. “Sometimes they must be taught what the right path is.”
He closes his eyes in the face of Myra’s scorn and inclines his face to the magically induced sky above. In doing so, his neck is completely exposed.
Now!
[Blink]
ACTIVATED
“…and the path takes strange turns.”
In the split second I blink behind him I thrust my sword towards his jugular.
[Sneak Attack]
ACTIVA-
Time stops.
The world stops.
My blade is caught in something, and my dangling paws walk on nothing but air.
My eyes catch up to reality as the Glenmaidens around us all gasp in astonishment.
Thorn holds my sword in his right hand, his fingers comfortably curled round it.
And around the ridges of his fingers, I see clear, ruby-red rivers run down his hand and drop to coat the sunflowers below.
“There you are,” he says as the Glenmaidens all draw their blades.
But in this moment – this fleeting instant of pure exhilaration and abject terror – I only have one thought running through my mind.
“You’re…”
“Human,” Thorn says with a smile that confirms all my fears. “I’m afraid things won’t be so easy for you, after all.”