Lithoniel

Once Lithoniel took a peek outside, she was greeted by a completely different view. There were at least five inches of snow on the ground, and the sky was clear, the moon like a beacon after the storm. That wasn't good, but the worst part was that the guards had resumed their duties. There weren't many of them, Lithoniel could see just four elves at the moment, but they were patrolling. Luckily, it was the middle of the night, and it was cold outside, so she doubted they would meet regular tribesmen, but the guards were a serious threat now.

We can't go together, they would see us. She turned back and gestured. We'll have more chances if we do this gradually. She looked at Rolim. The oldest and the weakest first.

Rolim nodded and started giving orders when Lithoniel added, Put Volodar in the first group.

Rolim froze, a line appearing between his brows, but Lithoniel wasn't looking at him anymore. She was observing the guards, feverishly trying to memorize their patterns and routes. She was still analyzing every possible scenario when she spotted Rolim with the corner of her eye.

"Lithoniel." Rolim cautiously called her when she didn't look at him.

"How many?" She asked in a clipped voice.

She heard him drawing in a long breath, but she didn't turn.

"Fourteen, ourselves included. I divided them into three groups. Volodar will go with the first, Aila and Folas with the second and you and I with the last one."

Lithoniel nodded distractedly. Maybe Rolim wasn't her favorite person at the moment, but she trusted him. Besides, she had other concerns. Namely, the guards.

"There are a lot of them." Rolim whispered to her, following her gaze.

"We are in the middle of their encampment. Besides..." She narrowed her eyes. She saw something, a moment when no one was looking their way. However, the time was short, just enough to cross that space separating them from the tents and reach the other side of the encampment.

"Besides...?" Rolim asked, but Lithoniel still refused to look at him.

She knew she was being petty, but his words still stung.

"How many grappling hooks do we have?" She asked instead.

"Enough. We find a few in the pavilion. I already handed them to the others. But..." Rolim hesitated. His voice sounded strange, more somber than usual.

Lithoniel squinted her eyes and forced herself to look at him. "What is it?"

Rolim didn't answer immediately but glanced back at the survivors, many of whom were still trying to stand up, their muscles sluggish after their prolonged captivity, "Most of them are debilitated by the lack of food and the long imprisonment."

Lithoniel tensed her shoulders, "Rolim, if you're saying they are too weak..."

Rolim held up his hands, "No, it will be tight, but they can make it. They just need a little help."

She narrowed her eyes, "What kind of help?"

Rolim's response was to pull something out of his pocket. It was just a vial, but the substance, that dark red sludge boiling inside it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

"How did you get that thing?" She whispered, unwittingly making a step back as she battled the urge to recoil.

"I thought we might need it" Rolim replied. He looked unperturbed liked he expected that kind of reaction. "and I was right. If we use this..."

"Are you out of your mind?!" She said, raising her voice to him.

"Lower your voice." Rolim advised though it sounded a lot like an order.

Lithoniel looked around, noticed most of the survivors were staring at them, and obeyed. However, she had no intention to let this go. Not this time.

"Even the former Nighstalker wasn't so dumb to use that thing." She hissed.

That was the most offensive thing she could say to him, but the corner of his eyes just crinkled a bit. "They need it. They need the Ebonfire."

Ebonfire, that was the name, and just like the ebonroot's powder the Loremaster had forced her to take, that thing was a byproduct of the ebonwood. The problem was that there were other ingredients - mainly the blood of an Embersea's predator and a generous amount of muddyfire - in that infernal concoction. The result was the Ebonfire's brew, or as the humans liked to call it, the berserker potion.

"Rolim" She said, struggling to stay calm as anxiety swirled through her. "There is a reason if we don't use it anymore."

"Maybe," He conceded. "but it's only choice. They need it, Lithoniel-"

"If they take that thing, they could die or go mad. It happened before."She tried to reason with him.

"No, they won't. It should be fine...in small doses."

A muscle in her jaw twitched, "Should?"

"It's a gamble." He admitted. "But right now, they can barely walk, and you need them to run, don't you?"

Lithoniel opened her mouth, ready to rebut, but realized she couldn't. Thanks to the weather, there were few guards outside, and that presented an opportunity. However, if it's true that splitting the survivors into groups reduced the risk of getting caught, it's also true that the entire plan risked failing if they were too slow.

She knew that, and apparently, Rolim knew it too.

"We'll leave a trail on the snow, it's inevitable. But if someone is too slow..." He trailed off, his words hanging in the air.

Lithoniel squeezed her eyes shut. She hated to admit it, but he was right. She took a deep breath, and when she reopened her eyes, Rolim knew he had won. However, his victory was her defeat. For the second time that day, she was forced to surrender to his strict logic, the harsh truth of facts.

"You can ask them" She conceded. "but I won't force anyone to take it and neither will you." She specified, but Rolim didn't seem worried.

"Of course." He said, his voice oddly mild.

Lithoniel glared at him, "You already asked them, didn't you?"

"Now, why would you think that?" He asked, his expression completely dull.

Lithoniel gave him a frosty look, but Rolim was very good at playing dumb.

She lifted an eyebrow and observed him carefully when he didn't move. "What else is there?"

Rolim drew in a long breath, "It's about Volodar." He said and she stiffened. "If he starts shouting in the middle..."

Lithoniel's expression hardened, "I won't leave him, Rolim."

"Fine" Rolim grumbled like he expected nothing else. "But think about putting him last."

"That's the most dangerous position, Rolim." She argued. "I won't do it."

Fortunately, Rolim didn't contradict her this time.

However, that respite was shortlived. She was still sighing with relief when she saw Folas peeking out of the pavilion. He was staring at one of the guards, his jaw tight and his hand squeezing the wooden handle of a knife with such strength, Lithoniel feared the wood would soon start cracking if he didn't loosen his grip on it.

"How can you be sure it's him?" Aila asked. She seemed worried, and judging by the look of pure hatred on Folas' face, Lithoniel would have been too if she were in her place.

"It's him." He said, his voice quavering with anger. "He is wearing my jacket."

"Folas," She whispered softly. "I know what he did to you is..."

"What he did to me? What about you, Aila?" He asked, pinning her with his eyes. "Or do you think I don't know what you had to offer to save my life?"

Aila paled, her lips quivering when her gaze met Lithoniel's. She bowed, hiding her face, and that was all the confirmation Folas needed.

"I have to kill that bastard." He said, balling his hands into fists. "I won't rest until he is dead."

"You can't." Aila pleaded, grabbing his arm. "Revenge can wait. The best way to defeat him is to come out of here alive."

Folas flinched seeing the tears running down her cheeks, but after a moment of hesitation, he jerked away from her. "I have to..."

"Listen to your wife, Folas." Rolim warned, hands on his sides as he approached him. The physical threat he posed was enough to make Folas pause for a moment, but that's all.

"Don't stand in my way. You don't know what he did to us." He repeated, his lips pressed together. "I have to reven..."

"Don't even think about it." Lithoniel said, very slowly. "If you even try to get close to that guard, I'll be the one to put an arrow in your back."

Folas' mouth snapped shut as his eyes bored into her, sizing her up. Maybe he didn't like what he saw or believed she was just bluffing, because he made a step forward, his fingers trailing down until they were touching the handle of his knife. Lithoniel, on the other hand, didn't move but just stared back at him without blinking.

"Don't do it." Aila whispered to him when he was about to draw the knife.

Lithoniel saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes when he looked at his wife, but he was still holding the knife.

"They are friends. They saved us." Aila insisted, and finally Folas let go. Just in time. He was so focused on Lithoniel than he didn't see that Rolim already outflanked him.

Aila dragged his husband away, but not before bowing to Lithoniel, her face filled with gratitude as she walked by. Lithoniel was still staring at them when Rolim approached her.

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"This doesn't look good."

"No, it doesn't." She answered, sliding him a guarded look. "Thank you." She still looked wary, but her voice sounded grateful.

"For what?" He said, looking at her hand behind her back, still gripping the knife's handle. "You had everything under control."

"I did" And that's the problem.

She didn't want to admit it, but if it weren't for Rolim, maybe that guard wouldn't have been the only elf she killed that night.

Rolim's gaze softened, "You wouldn't have done it." He whispered to her. "You wouldn't have killed him."

"Do you think he'll be a problem?" She asked to change the subject, and Rolim was all too happy to oblige.

He stared at him for a long minute but shook his head at the end, "I don't know."

Lithoniel drew in a sharp breath. She had hoped for a different answer.

"No choice, then. Put him with the last group."

Rolim didn't seem to like that plan.

"I don't think it's a good idea to separate him from Aila." He objected. "His wife keeps him grounded."

"Not enough, evidently." She said. "Better to keep him close."

Rolim didn't disagree this time, though he seemed a bit puzzled.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Both Volodar and Folas might be a threat. Then, why did you treat them differently?"

Lithoniel gave him a half-shrug, "Volodar is old and weak, Folas is young and strong."

"Makes sense" He said, leaning closer to stare at her face. "but are you sure that's the only reason?"

That caught her off guard. She scrunched up her face, trying to put her thoughts in order. Then she shook her head.

"No, it's not the only reason. Volodar is...different. It's not his fault if he behaves that way. But Folas..."

"...knows what he is doing."

She nodded, "I won't allow him to endanger us all just because he wants revenge." Her face darkened a bit. "Also, Volodar had been their prisoner for longer than anyone else." She stated, well aware Rolim would understand what she really meant.

He didn't disappoint her.

"You think he might know something about our enemies." He nodded, a contemplative look on his face."However..." He glanced at Volodar before giving her a meaningful look.

The former hunter was crouching down, an innocent smile on his face as he counted the ants with his fingers.

"That's another reason. He suffered enough. Besides, Volodar's standing in the tribe is high. Bringing him back may be good for morale."

"You already started thinking like the Nighstalker." He said like it was a compliment, but Lithoniel didn't think that way.

She knew it was necessary, but the fact she was trying to save a man just because he might be of use later, left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"We've lost enough time. Let's get them in position." She curtly said.

It didn't take much. Rolim was efficient as usual, and the survivors could hardly wait to get out of there.

Wait for my signal, then run as fast as you can. She pointed to the west, the same direction she and Rolim came from. Don't stop, don't look back. Run. She warned, and all the survivors except Volodar nodded seriously.

The old hunter was in his own world, but two elves grabbed his arms and were ready to drag him if necessary. When they started eating the Ebonfire, Lithoniel averted her gaze, unable to look at them.

They still looked haggard when they finished, but their eyes were tinged with red, and they were sweating. Rolim tried to talk with them, but they seemed to have lost their ability to speak. They half-snarled when he got close, a copious amount of drool running down from their mouths. They were closer to ravenous beasts than men.

And that's a small dose?

She shivered. She didn't want to think about what a full dose could do to a man. The only good thing was they still understood they had to escape. Lithoniel tried not to look at them, waited for the right moment and gave the signal.

Now! She gestured, and Volodar and other four started running.

The following minutes seemed endless. Lithoniel was constantly afraid one of the guards would turn, look in their direction and give the alarm. However, nothing of the sort happened.

The Ebonfire's effect is stronger than expected.

Despite their injuries and the lack of food, the survivors were fast, maybe even quicker than normal. Volodar, in particular, surprised her. He was like possessed, running over the snow so quickly he soon took the lead, leaving the younger elves behind. Lithoniel sighed with relief when they finally reached the cover of the tents, soon disappearing into the night. Once again she was about to give the signal to go when she saw someone who wasn't supposed to be there.

Folas.

"Not you." She said. "You're coming with me."

"My wife..." Folas started complaining.

"...will be safe." She cut him off, her hands on her hips as she stared at him, challenging him to disobey her.

He glared at her, but she didn't budge. Only when he stepped back, grumbling something under his breath, Lithoniel let go the bloody knife.

"He'll be fine" In the meanwhile, Rolim was saying to Aila. "He is strong."

Aila frowned, and for a moment Lithoniel thought she wouldn't believe him, but she nodded at the end.

Lithoniel waited until the second group was in position and the guards were where she wanted them to be before giving Aila the order to go. Everything was going well until one of the guards didn't follow the usual pattern and came back earlier than expected.

Lithoniel didn't have time to think. She quickly notched an arrow, took aim and released the bowstring. She made it look easy, her movements fluid and fast. The arrow flew in a straight line, almost as powerful as a crossbow's dart, before reaching its target. It pierced through the elf's leather armor like butter, part of the flint tip coming out its back. The guard had just the time to look at the object firmly plunged in his stomach before dying, the carpet of snow below his feet muffling the noise when he fell down.

"That was close." Rolim muttered.

"Too close." She answered, her eyes searching for potential anomalies, signs the other guards noticed what happened.

However, the dead guard was the least of her problems. Someone was missing.

"Folas." She said, searching for the elf but without success. "Where is he?"

"That idiot...!" Rolim cursed, pointing to her left.

Folas was crawling in the snow, the knife in his hand ready to strike as he approached the guard he hated. He was smart enough not to attack downwind, but he didn't realize, or he simply didn't care, that the guard wasn't alone. There was another elf not far from him.

Lithoniel had barely the time to notch another arrow when the second guard shouted, "Watch out!"

After that, everything happened very quickly. Folas stabbed the guard, and both of them fell on the snow, Lithoniel's arrow stuck in the other elf's throat. In a matter of second and both their enemies were dead, but the damage was already done. The entire encampment seemed to wake up, torches and fires lighting up everywhere as the elves started leaving their tents.

"Alarm!"

"Intruders!"

"There!" An elf shouted, pointing at them, and the guards converged on them on masse.

Folas was still stabbing the elf's body, his face a mask of blood and grime, when the first guard reached him, kicking him in the face. Folas growled, apparently immune to pain, his anger magnified by the Ebonfire. However, Lithoniel couldn't care about him at the moment.

"The gate!" She yelled, letting go of the bow and unsheathing the sword.

The guards were already starting to surround them and reaching the gate was the only way out they had left. Lithoniel, Rolim, and two other elves - Folonnar and Calador - broke into a run, the guards shouting and chasing after them. They were about to reach the gate when two of them barred their way.

One of them tried to stab Lithoniel, but she sidestepped avoiding him, the sharp edge of her sword tearing flesh and leather when she went around him and hit him from above. Rolim was much more brutal. He didn't even bother to use a blade, but simply grabbed his opponent's arms when he tried to cut him. Then he viciously headbutted him, the guard's nose breaking and sputtering like a ripe tomato at the impact with his hard skull.

Lithoniel was heading toward the gate when Rolim shouted, "Lithoniel!"

She felt the air moving behind her and had just enough time to dodge when the sharp point of a spear brushed against her side. She made one, then two steps back before looking down. Then she winced, her cold fingers wet of blood as she touched the wound. It was just a scratch, but it burnt like hell.

The guard ran toward her before using the spear from the top-down like a harpoon. She dodged again and when the spear missed her, she struck back, her sword running parallel to the ground before reaching its target. Fresh blood spilled on the white snow as the man's arm fell, severed to the bone.

The guard screamed in pain and anguish, but she wasn't looking at him anymore. She ran; the screams of the guards behind her approaching quickly. Rolim was the only one waiting for her since the other two elves had already thrown their grappling hooks and were climbing the rope. Lithoniel did the same and was halfway to the top when arrows started darting around her.

She swung on the rope just in time to see an arrow sinking on the wall's wood, barely missing her. However, another elf wasn't so lucky.

"Folonnar!" She yelled when she saw an arrow sticking out of his back, blood trailing from his mouth as he loosed his hold on the rope, falling to his death.

However, she had no time to mourn him. The guards' attacks - disorganized so far -were getting more coordinated.

"Open the gate!" An elf shouted when Lithoniel, Rolim, and Calador were already at the top of the wall.

A second later, she heard something creaking from below her and jumped down, on the other side of the wall, immediately mimicked by Rolim and Calador. That's when the gate opened, and they saw a salamander pouncing on Calador like a blur. The elf didn't even have time to scream when the lizard opened his jaws and clamped down on his skull, crushing it like an egg.

The spectacle was horrible but not as much as what was about to cross the gate. Salamanders. Half dozen of them. The Beastmaster, the same man they had seen before, was riding one of them.

"Run!" Rolim shouted, not that there was any need to say it.

They dashed across the plain and headed north, or at least they tried to, but it was impossible to escape from those lizards. The Salamanders closed the gap in a matter of minutes. They almost surrounded them a couple of times and they were forced to change direction over and over again. In the end, they weren't going north anymore, but south.

At some point the lizard the Beastmaster was riding jumped on them. Rolim rolled and avoided the beast, but Lithoniel ducked a bit too late, and the Salamander's feet brushed against her shoulder, throwing her in the air. Lithoniel felt a stinging pain when she fell, the gravel scraping her legs and arms when she rolled on the rocky soil. She was still hazy, her head ringing like a bell when she sniffed that rotten smell of brimstone.

When she looked up, she saw that the salamander was hovering over her, tendrils of smoke coming out its nose as its goiter and stomach swelled like a balloon.

"Lithoniel!" Rolim shouted, desperately running toward her, but he was too far.

When the Salamander opened its mouth and was about to breathe death over her, Lithoniel heard something whizzing over her head.

It was an arrow.

Lithoniel's eyes went round when she turned and saw Kolvar, maybe fifty steps behind her. He was still holding a bow, his mouth wide open like he hadn't expected to hit it. But he did hit it.

The Salamander made a strange hissing sound, the equivalent of a scream of pain when the dart pierced its soft palate. Then it roared, its head yanking left and right as plumes of black smoke came out of its mouth. The Beastmaster desperately tried to calm it, but the Salamander had gone berserk and didn't seem to care who were friends and foes anymore. It used its tail like a hammer on another lizard before pouncing on a smaller salamander, his talons easily cutting through the hard scales.

Lithoniel stood up and took the opportunity to run dragging the dumbfounded Kolvar along with her.

However, they didn't make it very far. Soon Lithoniel heard one of them hissing. She looked back and saw the Beastmaster had managed to calm the lizard, and once again the salamanders were chasing after them.

"We can't outrun them!" Rolim shouted.

Lithoniel gnashed her teeth. Desperation started to set in when she realized how utterly hopeless they were. But then she saw them, the red mountains of the West Ridge.

"Turn right!" She shouted.

"Are you mad?!" Rolim barked, losing his cool for the first time.

"We have no choice!" She wheezed, the long run starting to take its toll on her.

Rolim grumbled something, but when she turned, he and Kolvar followed her. At some point, the slope began getting steeper, and the fumes of the lava became so strong they were making their eyes water. However, as they kept going west, something strange happened.

All the Salamanders stopped following them. They started wailing, putting they feet down, and no matter what the Beastmaster did to convince them, they refused to move. Only then Lithoniel and the brothers slowed down.

"You were right." Rolim reluctantly admitted, wheezing a bit, still short of breath. "But what do we do now?"

He looked back. The Beastmaster and the salamanders didn't follow them, but they hadn't left either, which meant they couldn't go back that way.

"We need to move forward." Lithoniel said, looking at the lava flowing down the mountain. "It seems the southern part of the ridge is relatively safe. This path goes west or south-west. It should be alright if we follow it."

"We must go east, not west." Kolvar reminded her, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

"We must stay alive first." Rolim interjected, agreeing with her. "Besides, Volodar and the others already escaped. With a bit of luck, they'll reach the tribe and inform the Loremaster of what happened here."

Lithoniel nodded. She didn't like to leave them, but she had no other option at the moment.

"Let's move. We can't stay here for too long." She said eyeing the Beastmaster and the salamanders at the foot of the mountains. "Maybe the salamanders don't like the mountains, but his tribesmen don't have that kind of problem."

Rolim and Kolvar agreed with her. They hadn't gone far, maybe two or three hundred meters, when they heard a loud thud. They stopped, their eyes darting around the mountains surrounding them, when another, stronger thud followed the first one.

However, the first two were nothing compared to the third.

It was like the entire mountain was moving, the earth shaking so strongly that they were all thrown down. When rocks started falling from the mountaintops, they could do nothing but cover their heads and wait for the onslaught to end. It didn't last long, but when the earth stopped shaking, and the dust settled, they finally understood why the salamanders didn't follow them here.

"I-Impossible" Kolvar said, staring at the red nightmare rising from the lake or magma below them.

It almost seemed like a deja vu of their encounter with the Zaruk. However, the creature before their eyes wasn't the Zaruk, but something much worse. Something old and terrifying. Compared to it, the salamanders were just hatchlings and even the Zaruk no more than an oversized turtle, the false ruler of a land that belonged to something else. And that ruler, the true king of the Embersea, was standing before them.

It was a relic of the old world, the last remnant of the age of magic.

It was a dragon.