Caught off guard by the sudden sound of someone’s voice behind him, Rygic nearly shouted. He repressed a shudder. The raised hairs on his neck clearly showed just how completely he was taken by surprise.The idea that someone could creep behind him without making a sound deeply unnerved him. The only thing that kept him from outright panicking was knowing that if this person wanted him dead, he most likely would have already been on his way to visit Kelis again.

Sensing Rygic was calming down, the stranger behind him whispered, “Slowly turn around and do not make a sound. I am not your enemy; those orcs are.”

Rygic, unwilling to provoke the stranger, did as instructed. Before him was a figure in a hooded cloak about the same height as him. He quietly asked, “Orcs? Who are you?”

“Yes, Orcs,” the stranger quickly replied. “I’ll explain more later; time grows short. Those guards need my help. Now, stay out of sight if you value your life,” he urged, a touch of impatience in his voice. The stranger then turned in the direction of the lone guard who was squaring off against the orc and vanished.

Startled, Rygic took a few steps back. One minute the hooded stranger was there, the next he was gone. Only a brief wisp of fiery clouds remained before dissipating quickly. A sudden loud cry of surprise from both the orc and the warrior drew Rygic’s attention. He was stunned to see the stranger standing in front of the lone warrior as if to shield him from the orc. In the stranger’s right hand, he clutched a slender, slightly curved sword. His eyes began to glow a brilliant blue as his left hand touched the blade, tracing the intricate runes etched upon its surface, all the while whispering arcane words. The runes responded to his incantations, and they too began to glow brightly as tiny shadowy orange flames started to flicker over the blade. The warrior felt a weight lift from his shoulders as he saw the flames ignite, and a tired smile crossed his face.

The orc quickly recovered from the sudden appearance of a new target. Its dark crimson eyes warily fixated on the stranger's sword as it cautiously took a step back. “Mage,” the orc grunted in disgust as it gazed at the magical flames coating the blade. The other five orcs, who had been keenly watching the fight, stared at the stranger with a mixture of fear and hate in their eyes. The orc in front of the stranger spat out several guttural, harsh-sounding words toward the others. Grunting in acknowledgement, all five orcs retreated a few steps back to give their leader plenty of room to fight.

With a bellowing roar, the orc leader tightened its grip on the massive axe, sending a thunderous war cry echoing through the air. Without further hesitation, it lunged at the stranger, its battle-scarred face grimacing with hatred. Completely undaunted, the stranger boldly met the orc’s charge. His sword clashed violently against the orc’s axe. In a stunning display of magical power, sparks erupted and spattered about as the runed sword pierced through the war axe's head. The massive weapon, once a symbol of the orc's undeniable strength, offered feeble resistance as the mage's sword effortlessly sliced through, aiming for the orc's exposed neck with a singular, swift, and devastating motion. The mage's blade cleanly severed the orc's neck from its shoulders. A stunned hush fell upon those who witnessed its demise as the severed head rolled off to the side of the orc’s now-fallen body. They could only stare in shock at how swiftly he was defeated.

Fearful expressions twisted into seething rage as the remaining five orcs unleashed maddened, chaotic yells and charged recklessly toward the stranger. With an almost eerie calm, the mage muttered arcane words before poising himself and drawing a slow, deep breath as the orcs drew closer. Just as the orcs closed in to strike the mage, the stranger heavily exhaled his deep breath and with it, a jet of searing flames shot out from his mouth, engulfing the orcs. Agonized cries of their pain echoed into the night. The tired warrior who had been watching the mage’s display of power instinctively covered his face from the heat of the flames. Rygic could even feel it from where he was standing. It didn’t take long for the orcs to succumb to the deadly fire and their charred bodies joined their leader on the ground in defeat. Satisfied there were no longer any threats, the stranger, whose eyes were no longer glowing blue, turned in the direction of the woods and said loudly, “You can come out now.”

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The battle-worn warrior cast a weary glance in the direction of the mage's intent gaze, his eyes tracing the inky outlines of the trees that bordered the winding road. Emerging from the shadows, Rygic stepped out from behind one of the trees. Unable to see clearly, the warrior’s knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on his sword and wearily watched Rygic’s form walk closer. It was only when the flickering torchlight shone on Rygic’s features that the warrior could see the newcomer was no orc and he was able to loosen his grip. A look of caution was replaced by one of complete surprise on his face. “A newly arrived Elf in the Wondaeri Forest?” the guard asked. “Such a thing has not happened in many years.”

“He is with me,” answered the mage in an authoritative tone.

Appearing satisfied, the warrior quickly introduced himself. “I am Sergeant Balram, guardsmen from the city of Rinkon” Gesturing with a thumb pointed behind him he continued, “The healer behind me is Lyric Thattaway, a student mage on loan from the local Academy.”

Lyric briefly looked up with tired eyes, “Thank you for your well-timed rescue. I am afraid I was of little help.”

“Nonsense,” replied Sergeant Balram. Had you not been here, the rest of my squad would be dead. Thank the spirits the Academy lent a healer for our daily patrol.”

Lyric, unaccustomed to receiving praise, felt a faint flush of embarrassment sweep across her cheeks before redirecting her attention to the task of tending to the injured once more. What Sergeant Balram said was true, but she had felt completely useless in combat. The only spell she knew was her Healing Light spell. With a weary sigh, she wiped the sweat off her forehead with her sleeve. The relentless use of her spells was taking its toll, and exhaustion was heavy, settling like a burdensome weight upon her shoulders. Thankfully, she was able to use first aid to save mana where she could and that helped her to conserve energy and to continue pushing forward.

“My name is Skoshi Olden,” the stranger replied. “My friend here goes by...”

Catching the look from Skoshi, Rygic quickly answered, “Rygic...Olden.” Saying the name had felt odd to say in front of Skoshi, as if he really didn’t belong to House Olden.

“Well met, Skoshi and Rygic,” greeted Sergeant Balram. “I fear what would have happened had you not aided us.”

Skoshi's face took on a focused look as he studied both Sergeant Balram and Lyric. “I am impressed! You both did well considering the enemy you faced was six orcs brutes,”

“Thank you, though I’m not sure we are worthy of praise. We were not exactly expecting to encounter them. There had been whispers of Kosany scouting the border—a whisper we had dismissed as mere hearsay. We normally patrol for bandits, otherwise, we’d have brought more guardsmen with us. This was the first time any of our patrols have encountered any of the Kosany,” replied Sergeant Balram.

“It is concerning the orcs managed to get past the guards at the border. I will have to inform the council. Perhaps we can ask the Adventure Guild to send a few groups to scour the area as well,” added Skoshi.

“We would be in your debt. We’ll report the need for additional guards to be added to our patrols once I check back in at Rinkon,” added Sergeant Balram.

“Then it seems we are heading in the same direction, Sergeant Balram. Rygic and I are headed for Rinkon as well. Do you mind if we tag along?” inquired Skoshi.

“That would be most welcomed!” exclaimed a relieved Sergeant Balram.

“Great! Rygic and I will keep watch for the rest of the night. You two should get some rest once you get your wounded stable,” suggested Skoshi.

“Thank the spirits that you came by when you did and thank you again for your timely rescue,” Sergeant Balram gratefully said. He was beginning to feel utterly spent after the adrenaline faded away from the long fight with the orc. He thanked Skoshi once more for his timely aid, then taking one last look at Rygic, turned to join Lyric in helping with the wounded.