War Of The Wildlands (23 page)

L
ying on the
soft bed in Master Eldon’s tower, Yori awoke just before dawn. His habit of
waking early had not left him, despite being far from home. With no reason to
get out of bed at this hour, he lay still, staring up at the ceiling. It was
covered in wooden tiles, each one delicately carved into a different shape.
Some resembled leaves or vines while others appeared to be a random geometric
shape. Yori assumed they must be magical symbols of some sort, but he was
unfamiliar with their meaning.

Out of nowhere, Master Eldon suddenly burst into
the dark room. “I’ve got it!” he exclaimed.

Startled, Yori rolled over too quickly, not
realizing he was so near the edge of the bed. He crashed onto the floor in an
undignified position.

“Don’t just lay there,” Eldon scolded. “We’ve got
work to do!” He spun around and disappeared into the hallway.

Picking himself up from the floor, Yori groped for
his clothes in the darkness. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and followed the
white-haired elf down the stairs. Yori could have sworn he heard cheerful
humming. Never before had he seen Eldon so excited. As they descended the
stairs, the old elf continued to glance at Yori over his shoulder, grinning
like a mischievous child.

As they reached the ground floor, Eldon rushed to
his desk. Grabbing a scroll in his hand, he said, “Silver is the answer. I’ve
found it right here.” He pointed to a passage on the scroll, which Yori
struggled to read. Obviously he was taking too long, and Eldon grew impatient.
Tossing the scroll back down on the desk, he said, “Silver can hold the power
you need.”

Ripping open the front door, he marched down the
street to his shop. Yori trailed behind him, still unsure of what he was
talking about. He knew better than to question the sorcerer. He had already
learned that they were easily offended and had no desire to anger his teacher.

As Yori arrived in the shop, Eldon was already
digging through a wooden chest. “Here,” he called to Yori. “Try this on for
size.” He tossed Yori a shining silver ring.

Yori slipped the cold metal band around his finger
and immediately felt a surge of discomfort. A spark erupted on the surface of
his hand, causing him to jump back. Frantically, he pulled the ring from his
finger and dropped it onto the ground.

Eldon laughed hysterically, his hand holding his
stomach. “I couldn’t resist,” he said through his laughter.

Yori stared at the elf, wondering if he’d lost his
mind.

“Give it to me,” Eldon said. “I’ll remove my
imprint so you can wear it.”

With great care, Yori retrieved the ring from the
ground. He handed it back to Master Eldon, who squeezed it tightly between both
hands. In the blink of an eye, the enchantment was removed, and the ring was
safe for Yori to use.

“Now you can see if this will work,” Eldon said,
handing the ring back to Yori.

“What do I do with it?” he asked.

“Stones of the purple variety add extra power to
items which can greatly benefit a sorcerer. You, unfortunately, are not a
sorcerer. Your tiny mind can’t possibly hope to wield such power, so we must
settle for the bare minimum.”

Yori stared blankly at him for a moment. “I’m
afraid I don’t follow,” he said.

“Of course you don’t,” Eldon replied with pity.
“Silver can hold a power enhancing spell that should be safe for you to use. We
can’t add a purple stone, of course, because it would probably kill you.
However, I believe you can etch runes that will enhance your power. Give it a
try.” The old elf smiled triumphantly. All of his studying on Yori’s behalf was
finally about to pay off. This was his solution, and now it was up to Yori to
succeed or fail.

Taking a seat at the workbench, Yori’s mind raced
with the different possibilities of runes to carve into the ring. Whichever
word he chose would determine the strength of the enchantment as well as its overall
effect.

Settling upon a word, he took out his chisels and
began etching. The runes formed a word he had learned while reading Master
Eldon’s scrolls. Not only did the word mean power, but it literally translated
to “magical strength”.

Peering over Yori’s shoulder, Eldon nodded as the
word took shape. “Excellent choice,” he said.

Yori’s eyes blazed with green fire as he completed
the etching. The runes immediately responded with a purple glow. He placed the
ring onto his forefinger and held it up to admire it. “This is an expensive
gift,” he said.

“Consider it an offering to one who is less
fortunate,” Eldon said. “Let’s see if that’s solved our problem.”

He brought out the same dagger that Yori had
worked on before. Eldon handed him a new red stone that felt warm to the touch.
Taking a deep breath, Yori set the stone into the hilt and attached it to the
blade. The entire dagger took on a faint reddish glow.

“Well done!” Eldon exclaimed. “I knew it would
work. The answer was so simple I had forgotten it.”

Yori beamed with pride. The ring had indeed done
its job, providing him with the extra power he needed to set the enchanted
stone without damaging it. He admired the dagger and glanced back at the ring
on his finger. It felt warm as well, its runes shining brightly.

“It seems we’re all finished here,” Eldon said.
“There isn’t anything else I can teach you.”

“Thank you for everything, Master Eldon,” Yori
said sincerely.

Waving his hand, Eldon dismissed the comment.
“Don’t forget to retrieve your things before you leave.” He sat down at his
workbench and did not look up again. It would seem their master and student
relationship had come to an end. Yori took the hint and left.

The sun was just coming up as Yori walked back to
Eldon’s tower. Once again, he made the long journey to the seventh floor to
retrieve the rest of his belongings. He packed his clothing into his leather
bag and started back down the stairs. Chaos had erupted on the first floor as
two apprentices were having an argument. They had resorted to tossing magical
blasts at each other.

“I’ll roast you alive!” one of them yelled.

“I’d like to see that, you lizard sucking coward!”
the other replied.

Energy blasts flew through the room, toppling
books and displacing the furniture. Master Eldon was going to be beyond angry
when he returned home. Yori didn’t understand how two such educated elves
didn’t have enough sense to take their fight outside, but he was not about to
interrupt them.
I’m getting out of her just in time
, he thought.

As he made his way to the docks, Yori paused near
the stall where he had purchased his robe. Hoping for one last glimpse of the
pretty elf inside, he leaned his head into the shop. No one was around except
for her father. Instead of risking his anger, Yori decided to keep moving.

The docks were already buzzing with activity at
the early hour. Yori strolled over to the nearest ship and approached one of
the sailors. “Are you heading to Al’marr?”

“We make a stop there before heading on,” the man
replied, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Do you have room for a passenger?” he asked. “I
can pay with silver.”

The man glanced nervously from side to side. “No
payment is necessary, sir. We’d be pleased to have you aboard.”

Surprised by the generosity, Yori replied, “That’s
very kind of you.” As he ascended the ramp to the ship’s deck, he realized he
was still wearing the green robe, and the sailor must have thought he was a
sorcerer. He smiled to himself, pleased to have pulled off such an illusion.
Perhaps his new ring had given him a more magical appearance as well.

After an hour or two, the ship was finally loaded
and ready to set sail. Once again, Yori looked upon the vast blue of the ocean
and felt its salty breeze on his face. This time, the sea was taking him home,
but to which home still remained to be seen. With all the studying he had done
on the isles, he had not spared a thought for where he would live. He stared
out into the blue hoping that both of his families were safe from the war.

P
rince Aelryk
rode to the front of the army to be at his father’s side. “Father,” he said. “I
don’t think you should lead this attack.”

The king looked at
him with disdain. “I don’t care what that old wise-ass prophet has to say. I’m
the most capable war leader who ever lived. Without my presence, these idiots
will surely fail.”

“But Father, Orzi
has never been wrong. He has foreseen your death, and you should heed his
words.”

“Away with you!”
the king shouted. “Go and lead your own troops. They’re too stupid to do this
without you.”

Clenching his
teeth, the prince turned and trotted back to his company. Stopping next to
Mi’tal, he said, “My father is a fool.”

Mi’tal remained
silent, not wishing to openly criticize the king. He was well aware of Orzi’s
prophecy. A few days back, he had predicted that the king would fall in battle.
Orzi, however, had not been specific about which battle and had simply stated
that it would be in a battle against elves. King Domren had dismissed the
warning, believing it impossible for him to be slain by elves. The prophet,
however, had not mentioned whether it was an elf or human who killed the king.

“You must help me
and keep a close watch over him, Mi’tal. He believes himself invincible, and
that is a dangerous way of thinking.”

“I will do my best
to watch him, my lord,” Mi’tal replied.

Up ahead, the king
gave the signal to move out. Mages moved to the front of the line, preparing a
shield wall to protect the king and those who would fight next to him. The
elves were hidden deep in the forest, and there was the possibility of an
ambush. The remaining mages were distributed within the ranks to avoid having
the entire group wiped out in one shot. If the elves still had a store of
exploding arrows, this would not be an easy battle to win.

They entered the
forest at a snail’s pace, each man holding his weapon at the ready. The elves
could be hiding anywhere, waiting for the right moment to pounce. Silence
filled the forest, broken only by the soft footfalls of the Na’zoran horses.
King Domren rode proudly at the front, protected by his mages and personal
guards.

As the army moved
deeper into the woods, the elves had indeed been alerted to their presence.
With great stealth, they eased their way through the trees, surrounding the
human army. This time, they would not be defeated by the mages. Their first
priority was to eliminate the conjurers before turning fire on the rest of the
army. The sword maidens crouched in the thick brush, waiting for their
opportunity.

A bone-chilling
shriek pierced the air, disrupting the silence of the forest. Startled, the
Na’zoran army came to a halt, searching for the source of the cry. In response,
two more shrieks went up. The elven archers were announcing their presence and
letting each other know that the army was now surrounded.

Arrows fired from
all directions, striking the red-robed mages. Despite being surrounded by soldiers,
they were easy targets to hit. The mages surrounding Domren continued to hold
their shield, hoping to protect the king and themselves. Soldiers moved in to
protect the mages, but they too were pierced with arrows. Nearly half of the
mages had fallen before anyone discovered the treetop locations of the elves.

Noticing the source
of the arrows, the mages began to return fire. They blasted energy at the
treetops, and the archers struggled to maintain their balance. The arrows kept
coming but at a much slower rate. Some of the mages scrambled to protect one
another with magical shields, while the rest continued to fire.

With most of the
mages subdued, the sword maidens sounded the charge. Essa dove into the melee
first, her broadsword coming down hard on the thigh of a mounted soldier. From
behind the soldiers, Reylana’s group charged into the action. Their battle
cries startled the horses, sending many riders to the ground.

Chaos descended
upon the ranks, sending men in all directions as the maidens charged into the
fray. The archers continued to fire relentlessly, focusing mostly on the mages.
As the mages continued to use power to shield one another, they were quickly
becoming too drained to return fire. Their magical strength weakening, they
were unable to shield each other on every angle, and the archers wasted no time
exploiting the weakness.

Reylin could see
that the battle was in his favor, so he decided it was time to use his last few
runed arrows. Knocking one to his bowstring, he aimed for the center of the
army where no maidens had yet invaded. Loosing the arrow, he watched with pride
as it struck the ground, sending flames and sparks into the enemy ranks. Men
scattered and horses reared in fright, throwing their riders. Nat and Sal
followed suit, releasing the last of their runed arrows as well.

Aelryk managed to
avoid the flames and keep his balance on his horse. Mi’tal sat on his mount,
ever-faithful at his prince’s side.

“Can you see the
king?” Aelryk cried.

Mi’tal craned his
neck to see over the fighting. As he did so, a sword maiden charged him,
swinging her sword wildly. Without a moment to spare, he maneuvered his horse
out of the way, sending the maiden crashing into another soldier. He caught a
glimpse of a shield wall that still protected the king. “He’s up ahead, my
lord,” he called to the prince. “He is still protected.”

The prince’s horse
was struck with an arrow, sending the poor creature into a panic. It threw
Aelryk violently to the ground as it attempted to outrun the pain. Mi’tal immediately
dismounted to help the prince to his feet. Grabbing Aelryk’s hand, he pulled
him upright. The men barely had time to draw their weapons before two sword
maidens rushed in on their position.

Mi’tal swung his
hammer with great force, coming down hard on the maiden’s arm. The bone cracked
audibly, and she dropped her sword to the ground. Her fighting spirit was not
quelled, however, and she grabbed a dagger from her leather bodice. Once again
she advanced on Mi’tal. With another swing of his hammer, he landed a fatal
blow to her skull.

Mi’tal searched the
crowd to find that the prince had managed to fight off his attacker as well.
The mages’ shield was no longer glowing in the distance, and Aelryk was pushing
his way through the crowd in an effort to reach his father. Mi’tal saw an
opening to the side and took it. If he could reach the king before Aelryk, he
might have a chance to end the war. He had no intention of fighting the prince,
should he choose to defend his father.

The few mages who
were left continued to bombard the trees with energy blasts. None of them had
the strength left to produce fire, but they could still dislodge a few elves
from the trees. Three of them concentrated their blasts at what they believed
to be the most aggressive archers. They were firing more rapidly than the
others, and the mages were determined to take them out. With their powers
combined, they fired an enormous bolt of lightning at the tree. As it fell, its
massive roots were ripped from the earth, and elves came tumbling from the
limbs. Reylin was among them, his right leg shattering as he hit the ground.

With every ounce of
his strength, Reylin pulled himself back to his feet. The fallen tree would
provide some cover, allowing him to continue to fight. His broken leg was
bleeding heavily, and he could barely breathe through the pain. As he moved a
hand over his chest, he could feel that several ribs had been broken when he
came crashing out of the tree. Steadying himself as best he could, he knocked
an arrow and searched the crowd for any sign of Domren.