Chapter 143: The Owl

  Stryg rolled over onto his stomach and pushed himself up to his knees. He took in short labored breaths and tried to keep his balance. He had pushed himself too hard with the advanced agility spell. Worse, he had cast it over his entire body. He never understood why people said he weighed a lot, until now. His body felt heavier than stone and it was taking much of his energy to not tip over.

  The fire from the hall was beginning to spread throughout the room. The paint on the walls was beginning to melt and the tapestries were burning up in flames. Black smoke filled the air with soot and ash.

  A weak cough caught Stryg’s attention. He glanced to his left, Clypeus groaned. Stryg gritted his teeth and forced his legs to stand. He limped over to the vampire lying on the ground.

  “Cly, are you alright?” Stryg wiped the sweat from his brow.

  “Ugh, what happened,” Clypeus grimaced. His eyes shot open and he gripped Stryg’s hand, “Where’s the lamia!?”

  “Gone,” he pointed to the window.

  “...Huh… well, damn,” Clypeus closed his eyes and laid his head back down.

  “We can’t rest here, the castle’s on fire. Can you move?”

  “I think? The lamia broke my yellow durability spell, but I managed to save my ribs from breaking,” Clypeus sat up. He winced, “Damn, she hit hard, I’m gonna have bruises all over.”

  “Who cares, you’re alive,” Stryg shook his head.

  “Thanks to you,” he smiled weakly. “Where’s Callum!?”

  They both hobbled their way over to the unconscious vampire.

  Clypeus checked Callum’s pulse and sighed with relief, “He’s alive.”

  “But, he’s not waking up,” Stryg frowned.

  “His ribs look broken, we’ll need to take him to a doctor.”

  “And where are we supposed to find one?”

  “Normally, there would be several in the castle. But, with everything that’s going on, our best bet is to head back to the Dread Shadow. The ship will have several medics on board.”

  Stryg nodded, “I sent the centaurs at the stables into the forest to the East. If you head over now, you might still catch them. I’m sure one of the centaurs will take you both to the Veres ship.”

  “What about you? This place isn’t safe anymore and Lord Mora has clearly abandoned any idea of helping us.”

  “That’s why I need to find Maeve, she’s still in danger,” Stryg wiped his brow.

  “You really need to tell me what happened between you two,” Clypeus hefted Callum onto his back.

  “Not much. She’s just not the person I thought she was,” Stryg swallowed. His throat was parched.

  “Yeah, that sounds like bullshit.”

  “Heh,” Stryg smiled half-heartedly.

  He covered his face with his arms and prepared to walk out.

  “Stryg! We’ll talk more about all of this later. So, please, stay alive,” Clypeus stared at him, worry clear in his eyes.

  Stryg blinked, “Right…”

~~~

  Maeve stumbled through the burning corridor. Callum’s bright spell had left her partially blinded. Her vision was slowly returning, but everything still seemed a blur. Her skin burned and stung. She wasn’t sure if it was from the fires roiling around her or the aftereffects of the bright spell’s potent light.

  The air was dry and her throat was parched. The air felt thin and it was difficult to breathe. She tried inhaling deeply and only managed to have a coughing fit. All she tasted was ash and smoke.

  She sent a quick mental prayer to her goddess, Bellum. Maeve dragged her feet through the smoking halls, merely holding on to her consciousness. She was barely managing to avoid the flames licking the walls, let alone trying to navigate through the castle. She had run out of her father’s study in a hurry. The lamia was going to kill them all. Stryg had bought her time to escape. Stryg had sacrificed himself for her…

  How useless could she be? Sure, she wasn’t a warrior nor a mage, but she had an advantage no one else had. She had seen this already within her dreams, she knew the possibility of her home being attacked. And yet, she was unable to prevent any of it. She was still just that same little helpless girl.

  Maeve shook her head, Not anymore.

  She wouldn’t leave Stryg to his fate. She would find help and come back for him. Lord Mora employed hundreds of guards and dozens of magi. There had to be some still nearby.

  Maeve turned around, but her feet stopped. Smoke and flames shrouded the corridor behind her. There was no way to go back the way she came. Maeve glanced around, she wasn’t even sure where she was. The fire had burned away the walls, every hallway was an inferno of cinder and ash.

  “No, no, no,” Maeve swallowed.

  She could not give up now. Stryg needed her help. He wouldn’t hold out forever. Eventually, he would lose and they would all die. Her cousin, Callum. Her friend, Clypeus. And Stryg, her… She didn’t even know what they were. A one-night-stand? An unlikely friend?

  Sure, she found Stryg attractive, but they weren’t in a relationship, nor was she interested in getting married to anyone. Her father was enough, being tied down to another man was something she would rather avoid at all costs. Romance was out of the question, even with a beautiful hybrid. But there was something about his lilac eyes, something that gave her pause. There was a clarity in those eyes that reminded Maeve of her dream, but she couldn’t quite recall what.

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  A burning beam fell behind her. She yelled in surprise and backed away. Her air-deprived mind had begun to wander. She needed to focus. She hauled her aching body forward.

  The world around was falling apart, the wooden beams coming apart, leaving only the stone framework behind. She needed to get out of the smoke, they would kill her before any fire did. She frantically looked about for a room to seek shelter in, every door was covered in flames.

  Maeve spotted a large open doorway at the end of the next hall. The doors seemed to have burned away and although smoke filled the hall, she spotted light filtering through the doorway.

  “Windows,” she mumbled.

  If there were windows then there was fresh air and possibly an escape from this burning deathtrap. If she could get out, she could find help. The choice was clear. She hobbled her way over with what little energy she had left.

  Maeve pushed past the doorway with a final burst of energy. She looked around the burning chamber and found herself in the ballroom. The sight touched some part of her memory, she was too tired to remember what. All she could think of was that the ballroom was on the 1st floor. She could jump out of the windows without any risk of death. The large glass windows of the ballroom stood across the dance floor only a few dozen feet away.

  As soon as she took her first step on the dance floor, she heard a high pitch screech over her head. She glanced up in time to see the large ornate chandelier’s chain melt and snap off the ceiling. Her legs buckled underneath her, she raised her arms up in a hopeless act of defense.

  “Maeve!” Stryg burst from the hallway and pushed her away.

  The chandelier cracked over his body and he crashed on the floor with a resounding boom. Maeve’s voice caught in her throat, her eyes widened in horror. The chandelier lay broken on top of Stryg’s small body. He did not move.

  Maeve crawled over. Tears streamed down her face and evaporated from the heat.

  “Stryg, please be alive, please,” Maeve cried.

  He didn’t respond.

  “Gods, not like this, it can’t end like this,” Maeve whispered.

  She grabbed the chandelier and flinched, the metal was burning hot. She grabbed Stryg’s arm and tried pulling him from under. He didn’t budge, he was too heavy. She groaned and pulled, summoning every last bit of life and strength she had in her. He moved a few inches. The weight of the chandelier shifted and bore down on his back. Maeve’s hands slipped and she fell backward, her chin smashed into the marble floor. Her vision went blank from the blinding pain.

  After a few stunned moments, she scrambled her way to him. She brushed Stryg’s silver hair from his face and touched his cheek, his skin was cool to the touch. Her mind wandered to the morning of the seregulus hunt.

  “You saved me back then, too,” Maeve smiled, her body trembled.

  But this time, there would be no Gale to save them both.

  “You won’t die alone, not today,” Maeve rested her forehead on his own.

  “Mm,” Stryg grumbled softly.

  His eyes opened slowly.

  “Maeve?” Stryg mumbled.

  “You’re awake! Can you move?” Maeve wiped her eyes.

  “Not really,” he grimaced.

  “...Thank you”

  “What?”

  “Thank you for saving me, again,” she swallowed.

  Stryg licked his parched lips, “Honestly, I’m regretting it.”

  “Ha, no take-backs,” Maeve grinned weakly.

  “Damn,” he sighed.

  “How did you even get here? Did you actually defeat that lamia?”

  He looked up at her, his pupils dilating, “You’re bleeding.”

  “I fell, it’s nothing compared to your injuries… Your eyes, you have lilac irises!” Maeve froze. The memory of her dream came crashing down on her.

  “So I have been told,” Stryg frowned.

  “You're the owl?!” She yelled in recognition.

  “Uh, what now?”

  “Stryyyyg! Stryg, where are you!?” A voice shouted in the distance.

  He narrowed his eyes, “Master?”

  Maeve caught on quickly. She cupped her hands together and yelled from the top of her lungs, “Over here! Stryg and I are over here!”

  The floor began to rattle. Maximus ran into the hall, flames tearing around him, Loh riding on his back. Rhian charged in after them, spear in hand, her eyes darting about. Loh raised her hands, the fires around the ballroom shook and were blasted away, leaving only soft embers burning on the walls.

  “Master!” Rhian spotted Stryg.

  Rhian ran over to them and kicked the chandelier off him.

  “Ah, hey!” Maeve yelled as Rhian pushed her away.

  Rhian scooped Stryg up and cradled her in his arms, ignoring his heavy weight, “Talk to me, Master. Say anything. One word is enough. Just let me know you’re okay.”

  “Ugh, why did you two come back?” Stryg tried squirming out of her embrace.

  “We saw Clypeus Gale and Callum Veres. Clypeus told us that you were weakened and in danger. I needed to find my mistress anyway and Rhian insisted we come to get you,” Maximus said.

  “I couldn’t just let you burn up in this stale castle,” Rhian smiled down at Stryg.

  The centaur’s black hair fell all over him, tickling his face.

  This is not the pose a proud warrior is supposed to make, Stryg thought glumly.

  Loh hopped off Maximus’s back and walked over to her apprentice, “It’s been a hectic morning for all of us. I woke up to the screaming of the guests staying in the next room over. After killing a few raiders I met up with Maximus and Rhian. It took me some time getting to you, but I’m glad you’re alright.”

  “What’s happening out there? What’s going on?” Maeve asked.

  “I’m not sure. It seems one of the valley tribes has gone crazy. They’ve traveled all the way up North, just to attack Mora Castle? Something doesn’t add up. Unless… The docks. They’re trying to cripple the river trade routes,” Loh clenched her fists.

  “But, that’s basically declaring war on Hollow Shade. A single tribe versus a Great City? What tribe is crazy enough to try and do that?” Maeve’s eyes widened.

  “I’m not sure which valley tribe, but there are hundreds of warriors outside. We need to get out of here fast,” Loh said.

  “I thought I heard voices from over here,” someone laughed from the doorway.

  Loh spun around, “You’re… an elf?”

  “And you’re quite the beauty, lucky me,” the elf winked.

  “Kyriil, focus. We’re here for a purpose,” Grim walked in behind him. He had to duck under the doorway to avoid hitting his head.

  “Yeah, yeah. Kill and capture. But, damn I’ve never seen such nice tatas on a centaur before. They are huuuuge!” Kyriil opened his arms wide to illustrate.

  Rhian cocked her head in confusion, unsure if she should be proud or creeped out by the stranger’s comment. Stryg growled at the intruders. Maeve bit her lip, unsure of what to make of the situation.

  “Let’s just get this over with. I hate all this fire, it dries up my skin,” Grim grumbled.

  Loh’s jaw went slack at the sight of the grey looming figure, “What are you?”

  “What, never seen an axlean before,” Kyriil patted Grim’s arm before.

  “Understandably so,” Grim said.

  “Mistress, shall I dispose of them?” Maximus hefted his battle ax.

  “Oh, it seems there’s been a misunderstanding, big guy,” Kyriil waggled his finger. “We aren’t some chaff to be thrown out. We are magi and these are our warriors.”

  Kyriil snapped his fingers. Two dozen men and women clad in armor and weapons, rushed in behind them, and blocked off the doorway.

  “So, unless you wish to face the might of two high-master magi and our cold-hearted warriors, I suggest you all come with us, quietly,” Kyriil said.

  “Is that right? I do love a challenge,” Loh raised her hands and shifted her feet into a battle stance.

  “I was hoping you’d resist,” Kyriil smiled wide.