Seamus pressed himself against the vern tree, his hand covering his mouth as he tried to silence his ragged breathing. Lowe was nearby, hidden behind a bush. The gnome looked terrified, his eyes darting around as he tried to make himself blend in with the leaves. Seamus wanted to say some words of encouragement, mainly to calm himself down, but he couldn’t afford to. The orcs’ nearing footsteps grew louder as they walked over the snow, their breathing nearly overpowering the distant fire’s roar.
Lilith and Miles were still nowhere to be seen, possibly because Seamus had practically bolted through the forest with uninterrupted speed. Uninterrupted, until he had run into the current patrol of orcs. One patrol that had been coming from Aldren, judging from the direction the two brutes had come from. Seamus and Lowe had been hiding out in the darker part of the forest for a good while since they knew they couldn’t currently outrun the patrol.
Seamus did his best to lessen his rapid breaths, the sound most certainly attracting the brutes to his location.
‘Dammit! You’re going to get caught!’
Seamus used both of his hands to cover his mouth as he heard the sounds of footsteps coming closer.
“I think I hear something,” an orc muttered, his voice giving his position out. He was at least four meters away from Seamus’ tree.
Seamus could hear the orc’s footsteps grow louder, the fear in the young man’s heart skyrocketing as he tried to come up with an escape plan. He searched his satchel and belt for anything, hoping that he would have something up his sleeve that he forgot about. Nothing.
‘There has to be something! Anything!’
Seamus panicked mentally, his hand searching some more. In the end, his hand only settled on his sword’s hilt, its pommel cold to the touch. He gripped onto it, a realization going through his mind.
‘The only thing I can do…’
Seamus looked down at his sword, the orc’s footsteps now deafening.
“Is fight,” he muttered softly, realizing he had only one option. He didn’t hear what the orc said once he was found, only that the brute had swung his ax at Seamus. Everything had gone slow, as if the goddess of time herself had intervened. However, the young man knew better and used the chance to dodge the attack quickly. He threw himself onto the forest floor, sending snow flying. He squirmed on the cold ground, twisting his body to see that the orc’s swing was strong enough to pierce the vern tree. The ax’s blade made a thwacking sound as it stuck inside the seemingly invulnerable wood.
“Thank you, agility potion,” Seamus breathed out, noticing how adrenaline surged throughout his body.
“Dammit!” the orc shouted, doing his best to pull out his ax. Seamus scrambled to unsheathe his own sword, shifting his body to stand back up. Once his weapon was drawn, however, Seamus noticed the second orc, who swung around with a longsword. The young man jerked his body away from the oncoming slashes, his heart beating loudly in his ears as he avoided the orc’s strikes.
However, it wouldn’t prove flawless as the orc’s sword got in one strike, which struck against Seamus’ torso. The strength behind the attack was enough to send the young man stumbling back, his feet slipping. Seamus found himself back on the forest floor, his eyes blinking as he looked for his attacker.
“Oh shi—!” Seamus rolled himself to the side, barely avoiding the downward stab of the orc’s sword. The young man quickly propped himself up, panting as he flailed his sword at the orc without thinking.
His sword’s edge cut into the brute’s arm, drawing a pained yell.
“Bastard!” The orc grimaced, striking Seamus with the back of his hand.
The young man found himself back on the forest floor, the taste of copper making itself present on Seamus’ tongue. He slowly tried to get up, spitting on the snow below him. It was blood, HIS blood. Seamus stared at the red spot on the white glistening snow, his hand moving to wipe his mouth. More blood stained his glove, signaling to the young man that he was bleeding. Something made itself present inside of Seamus, his mind slowly going blank as he looked down at the stain. He turned back to the orc responsible, a cold feeling of rage and hate filling his mind.
Right before it could fully manifest, he was suddenly interrupted when something came out of the forest. It was a blur of fur, steel, and skin, and it had launched itself at the orc, tackling it as the sound of yelling and screaming filled the night. Seamus blinked, his thoughts resetting to his normal self once more.
He watched as Lilith wailed her ax onto the orc below, her primal shouts echoing throughout the forest. Seamus noticed the second orc moving to attack the berserker before another figure subsequently tackled him. They both struggled, the orc clearly having the upper hand as he wrenched the short sword from the other man, who turned out to be Miles. The brute raised the strange sword, ready to gut the ex-follower before Lilith intervened, her hands carrying the longsword the other orc carried.
She swung its blade down at the brute’s arm, causing him to shout out in pain as he let go of the mercenary. Lilith was suddenly relieved of her weapon as the orc pulled the blade away from her hands. Still, the berserker didn’t stop there. She lunged at the brute, her hand unhitching her stowed ax. Seamus watched as the brute stood no chance against the berserker, his arms flailing as she brought her ax down over his skull, over and over. By the end of it all, the orc’s head was nothing but mince, his blood staining Lilith’s arms and torso.
“Where did you two come from?” Seamus asked in between breaths. He stood up as Miles took back his short sword from the dead brute’s hand.
“You outran us both…” Miles panted out, wiping away some of the soot and blood from his mask, which only smeared across the once white wood.
“Are any of those orcs from before still after us?” Seamus asked. He turned to look at the once distant forest fire, which was now much closer than it had been a couple of minutes ago. The flames now lit the dark forest, showing Seamus how visibly exhausted and dirty everyone was.
“I’m not sure. We lost them a while ago,” Miles muttered. “We should still keep moving, just in case.”
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“That’s if we know where we’re going,” Seamus pointed out, his eyes squinting for any sign of where they were. He knew they were close to Aldren, judging from what Lowe had told him a few minutes ago, but he wasn’t sure of the exact location.
“We shouldn’t be too far from the path!” A familiar voice called out. Seamus turned to see Lowe come out of his hiding spot, the gnome still clutching onto his statue. “Judging from how far we’ve run… and the direction of where these orcs came from. We shouldn’t be too far from the main path that leads to Aldren and the southern port.” Lowe coughed as he reached the exhausted group. “We just need to keep moving straight.”
“Alright then… I guess we’ll be running again,” Seamus sighed tiredly, feeling how much weaker the agility potion’s effects had gotten. He turned to see if Lilith felt the same way, only to find the berserker sprawled on the ground. “Lilith?” Seamus asked, feeling as if something in him had dropped. He was about to go up to her to help when Miles stepped in, his hands propping the woman up.
“She’s fine,” Miles assured Seamus, grunting with effort as he picked her up, carrying the berserker in his arms. “The agility potion must’ve worn off. Not just that, but with all the orcs she killed on the way, I’m surprised her heart hasn’t stopped,” Miles commented.
“We should get going,” Seamus muttered, moving to help Lowe climb onto his back. “It won’t be long until those orcs catch up. I doubt they’ve given up.” Seamus felt tired; hell, everyone must have felt tired. Even Miles looked exhausted despite the mercenary’s mask covering up his expressions. Still, even in their current state, they all ran again, heading to escape from the oncoming fire.
----------------------------------------
The heat was blistering, overwhelming even. Still, James couldn’t give up. He couldn’t afford to give up, to stop. He knew it would mean certain death. “James! Keep running!” Haggard shouted at the young man, who was lagging behind his group. The fire wasn’t even that near, yet its heat was already bearing down on him like a small sun. He wanted to stop, to take a small rest, but he could hear the orcs gaining on him from behind, their shouts increasing in volume as they neared. James gritted his teeth, forcing his body to push harder despite his stab wound, feeling as if it was tearing him up from the inside.
‘Don’t you dare stop!’ Faust shouted at James, the spirit’s voice frantic.
‘I’ve been running forever! My legs feel like they’re going numb… My lungs are on fire… I feel like I’m dying!’ James responded mentally.
It wasn’t long before James felt his feet suddenly slip on the forest ground. His balance was soon lost as he stumbled. He landed on his knees and arms, his hand still clutching onto his short sword. James took deep, ragged breaths as he tried to get up, his head turning to see how far the orcs were.
‘Drop!’
James did as told, like many times before, his body flattening itself against the ground. He watched as an ax missed his head, the orc who held it scowling at the young man. James didn’t waste time, his sword moving to pierce the orc’s chest.
Instead, the strike missed and ended up stabbing the orc’s exposed gut. The brute shouted in anger, recoiling as he kicked James away. The sword slipped out of James’ grasp, staying inside the orc as he tumbled back from the kick. James scrambled, ready to fight, until he saw Haggard move in. The older man used his hammer to deflect the ax swing from his opponent, his free hand moving to grab James’ sword. The young man watched in horror as Haggard gutted the orc, the brute’s insides plopping out onto the ground.
He stared at the sight, unable to move as he watched the orc’s body drop. Haggard wasted no time; however, his attention turned to James as he moved to pick up the young man.
“Move!” Haggard shouted, placing the bloody sword in his hands as he pushed him along. James blinked, taking the advice as he forced his feet to move. He watched Haggard pick up Bjorn before continuing their run as if nothing had happened. James swallowed his shock, starting his run as he heard the shouts of the other orcs catching up to their dead comrade.
The young man pushed the memory of the brutal death into the back of his mind, clenching his jaw as he ran through the burning forest. The men ran for what seemed like an eternity, going over dead logs and burning vern trees, which emitted heat like a sun. Still, James would come across an obstacle. He could see even more flames ahead, which nearly made him lose all hope.
‘The fire has trapped us…’ James grimly realized before noticing something strange with the fire. Mainly with how some trees looked like structures…
James skidded to a stop, squinting ahead.
“Holy shit,” he muttered in a breath. With no doubts, he ran to the flames ahead.
“James? Where are you going? There’s only more fire!” Haggard shouted out.
“It’s the town! It’s Aldren!” James shouted, never feeling so relieved at finding a burning town. He broke through the treeline, catching his breath as he looked upon the burning town. Which still burned despite it being hours since the young man and his group had come across it. James turned his attention to the southern part of the town, where the path to the port was.
“There’s the way back to Frostbite,” James pointed out just as Haggard reached him.
“Thank the gods… Then let’s get going!”
They all hauled ass, their tired feet and muscles gaining a sense of rejuvenation. Just as they reached the path, though, a group of figures emerged from a nearby treeline. It made James and Haggard stop almost immediately, the two men ready to fight off any orcs who got in the way of their freedom. Fortunately, no brutes were on the way to stop the trio.
James blinked confusingly, his eyes focused on the group in front of him. One man had a dented and scarred steel breastplate, his wild black hair matted with sweat. The other held an injured woman who seemed unconscious, her red hair loose and partially burnt. The one who carried her was in a similar state of distress. Multiple scratches and burn marks across his clothing and a white, grinning mask.
“Holy shit… Miles… Seamus…?” James managed out before finally noticing the gnome hitching a ride on Seamus. He also spotted a woman being carried by Miles. “Is that… Is that the woman who went berserk in the clearing?” James recognized the woman by her red hair and signature fur breeches.
“There’s too much to explain. Right now, we need to get the hell off!” Seamus exclaimed, his own breathing just as bad as James, if not worse.
“Exactly.” Haggard panted out, already moving to go down the path. “We already have orcs chasing us, so let’s get moving!” The drifter shouted, already starting his run. Miles soon followed, along with Seamus and finally James. Without much more talking, everyone ran down the dirt path, the flames engulfing the trees nearby. James could only hear his breathing now, his lungs burning with effort and ash as he sprinted alongside Seamus, whose ragged breathing matched James’.
It wasn’t long until they saw the ship, which already had its black sails down, everyone on board moving as if they didn’t notice their exhausted group. James could see how his vision slowly darkened, his hand still covering his stab wound. The pain was astronomical, his body suffering with every step. Still, he couldn’t give up. He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t…
James’s vision blacked out.
It slowly returned, showing him he was on the dirt. It darkened again before returning soon. He was being carried. Someone was shouting. The world went black again, a little longer before it returned James to reality. He was now on the ship, propped up against the barrel as Dahlia worked on him, her shouts inaudible. Miles was nearby, passing the shaman his satchel as Haggard and Seamus dropped onto the deck.
There was so much going on, so many voices shouting at once. Still, despite the amount of information being thrown at him, all James could focus on was the burning island in the distance, which was slowly growing smaller as he blinked. James looked down at his bloody armor and clothes, which Dahlia was ripping off to get to his wound. He laid his head back on the barrel once more, taking a deep breath as he watched the once lush green island burn to cinders.