4 - Sculptures Of Ice
''Lyra, run'' passing his spacial ring over, Her husband whispered, listening to the approaching footsteps hot on their tail.
''Cut them off, don't let them escape'' voices in the distance were heard speeding up their initial approach. Facing the entrance to ''Carlisle grave'' hesitation streaked along her face as she watched her husband slowly but surely approach the incoming slaughter awaiting his arrival.
Tears leaking from Lyra's face she gripped her stomach and ran, forcing her head forward, trying to endure turning her head back only to succumb and see her husband surrounded by ten shadowy figures in darkness.
..........
''Separate and kill the women while we handle their patriarch.'' five shadows attempted to leave the encampment, following the order of their older-elder.
The patriarch blocked their way and stood to stare resolutely as one of the surrounding people walked out of the formation as if he wanted to talk '' what I don't understand is, for the sake of their order. Both your purple-haired-wyvern and silver-horned dragon clans would jointly cooperate with them extinguishing mine? ANSWER ME!'' an echo reverberated in the surroundings.
Shaking his head a man with purple hair, purple eyes and a grin slowly answers ''What else but benefits, isn't that obvious'' another man that has silver features approaches and questions ''Lucian, why don't you give in? we will make it quick for you and Lyra if you stop struggling.''
Syncrally, all surrounding elders from both clans dashed towards Lucian as if rehearsed, trying to initiate a quick execution.
''hump, with just you lot. You all overestimate yourselves'' exploding with power Lucian stepped backcrossing double the distance of their approach almost instantaneously. Manipulating his mana he whispers, ''Hails descent''.
The temperature immediately started to drop, while rain fell from the sky as he was engaged in close quarter combat; it wasn't that he couldn't kill them, he kept getting blocked by the older-elders situated in the group stopping his slaughter.
Even then, that still didn't block him from heavily injuring a few of them. Besides, the most important job for him at the moment was to buy time for his wife and unborn child as well as the spell cast minutes before.
Soon after thick shards of ice started to transmute from the rain, quickly controlling his power to limit the area of effect, focusing on the area around him.
..........
The attack on their clan happened too quickly as they were slowly overwhelmed from beginning to end, the building burnt like paper against the assault of spells trapping family members inside, burning them alive. She could remember the screams that woke her up.
Checking her window fighting could be seen, from her position she almost thought it was sunrise as she overlooked the entire area.
Gathered by the patriarch, the remaining family members both young and old made their escape with a few elites and elders guiding the way, trying to preserve their lives. There were 60 of them when they first fled, slowly that number whittled down.
With enemies pursuing them, more and more needed to make a stand, hopefully allowing others to make it out of the genocide alive. Still, not all of them were warlocks, since a majority of the force were either wiped out or caught in the confusion, few remained.
They ran until there were but the young and old left who had either yet to awaken their bloodline or had been unable to.
one by one they started to fall behind, leaving a trail for the enemy clans to track lasting till it was just her and her husband.
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Heading into ''Carlisle's grave'' Lyra, never stopped running when water started to hit her face. Alerting her of the battle her husband faces in an attempt to buy time.
Minutes past as her ears twitched to the sounds coming from ahead and to her sides, both roars and low growls. She couldn't stop, so with no path left for her to take she kept moving. Deeper she went as collisions sounded from behind, some small others were big, motivating her to ignore the pain coming from her limbs as she had run 4 hours without stopping to get to this point.
Stopped with no path left, she ran through the scrubs. Trying to navigate a path leading her deeper into the grove she tripped. Falling forward, she braced her stomach rotating her body to land on her back.
Struggling to stand back up, she started to limp.
Lyra wasn't a warlock, married into the family for political relations between his and her clan since she had never awoken her bloodline. Nevertheless, she quickly fell in love regardless.
She could see the horizon looking back and a cliff ahead, limping for an unknown amount of time she arrived at the boundary of ''Carlisle's grave'' a cliff which touched the heavens and was as wide as the eye can see. ''No man's land'' the name of the area shot through her mind as she immediately became wary.
''No man's land'' Was given that name because you would never find another person, why? beast's standing near the pinnacle of cultivation fills the 500 million kilometre radius connecting the four plane's of power to one another and the cliff as its border.
Elder Gods don't dare to step foot in this land, let alone mortals such as herself.
Touching the cliff, following it along arriving at a large opening, with light shining through the entrance, she struggled forward looking ahead, seeing nothing but darkness she followed along. Once more before clutching her stomach in pain kneeling on the ground from a premature rupture. Knowing her water has broken while stuck between life and death, she carries forth through the darkness.
Still walking in the absence of light, pain from contractions slowed her down, she had to grip her stomach as she walked in agony time after time nearly being swallowed by despair more than once. Spotting a light in the distance, she started to run from her previous slow limp seeing hope arrive in front of her.
The contractions sped up with every step taken, ''one step more, one step more'' she kept telling herself as she had no remaining strength to keep her eyes open.
Closing her eyes once more, seeing darkness, she kept repeating to herself in a low murmur ''one step more, one step more'' astute at keeping her eyes closed.
Nearly reaching her limit, she stepped once more as her body fell forward once more before turning to her back. Unable to get up with near no response from her body, her eyes gently fluttered.
Knowing she's unable to continue on attempts to give birth in silence, unable to scream from the pain killing her slowly.
..........
The temperature still dropping after Lucian once more cast '' Sub-Zero'' with his remaining hand, frozen blood stuck to his skin as if it was glue, being the target of so many spells he was slowly criplled.
The ground already froze, the trees in shards, the moisture in the air became visible as if they were flakes frozen in time.
Lucian came to a standstill facing both familiar to unfamiliar faces wanting to take his life. Surrounded already by the three clans elites, elders and patriarchs he knew he was about to die.
In fact, he had already accepted his fate when he had seen his home burn, but as a patriarch, he has to ensure their bloodline's survival and as a father his child.
A few hours during the prolonged fight, more and more family member's of the three clans arrived joining the already hard fight numbering him 1 to 100. He has already been unable to block the few attempting to hunt his wife and child, stuck with a single goal and a beautiful view of the distant horizon he says before his final spell ''it's a good day to die''.
Forbidden Spell ''sculptures of ice'' he murmured, the cold instantly intensified dropping in seconds, as if time started to slow, he could feel himself freeze. First from his toes, flowing up to his leg approaching his stomach, continuing up against his chest past his throat till the brain, staring at the charging enemies he smiles before death.
The patriarch of the silver-horn dragon clan immediately yells, '' shit, RETREAT, RETREAT'' bastard, he's going to take out 90% of their forces with this spell.
Quickly seeing his retreating clansmen start to slow by the second, his pulse quickens, watching figures turn to ice, he quickly turns to flee with all his might.
out of range of the spell with a select few others quick enough to escape he spots the few remaining elites, and elders numbering less than ten, knowing their foundation has been heavily damaged he grunts.
Looking over towards the other two patriarch's he could spot, that their numbers remaining were close enough not to be worried about an attack from one of them.
Asking a figure that appears behind him, ''have you finished your task'' shaking his head the figure answers '' we tracked her to the cliffs''. Continuing the man says '' she entered no man's land, so she's as good as dead''.
Nodding the patriarch stares at the frozen fantasy before him, as if that area was it's own world, ordering them to return.
..........