Brave or Insane
March 30, 2015
“Feel better,” Tynilia asked as he looked him over as though she couldn’t be sure if he was brave or insane.
“I’ll feel better when The Darken’s army is destroyed.” He said and then went back to packing up his meager possessions.
“Oh is that all you need.” Her hands went to her hips, “Why not ask for the end of night or death? Perhaps we can end all pain and suffering as well. I mean with the two of us, a handful of weapons, and our two remaining days of food, I’m sure we’ll have no trouble.”
Throwing his remaining pack over his shoulder, he stood with a wry smile spreading over his face. Turning toward his barrowed lover, he said, “One thing at a time. Besides, Yig provides and I don’t think we’ve played our last cards yet.”
“Yig provides,” she scoffed. “Right, and Tezcatlipoca destroys. We’d be a great team if there were more than say two of us. So what now? Since you got your Wyren killed, I suppose I’ll need to drop you off at the Yig village. I hope you don’t expect me to stay. I have bad luck in villages. Besides I think I’ve had enough fun with you and will be returning to my real lover as quick as my Wyren’s wings can take me.”
“Nope what? You don’t want me to leave you…”
“No, we aren’t going to the village. We’ll have time later for that.” He swept his arm at the mountain range rising behind them. “Yes their army is huge, but look where they’re trying to travel through. I say we retreat and prepare rockslides and the like. Only a fool would mess with a Yig worshipper in such terrain.”
“And only a fool would try to stand in The Darken’s way.” A voice croaked out from behind him.
Three forms strode into view. The one that had spoken stood in the center and glared at them from behind a large mass of blue rags that covered not only his body, but his face. Jack wondered if a line-backer was under to filthy cloths for the figure loomed not just tall but wide.
To his left was a figure as thin as the other was broad. She wore a tight hint of a dress over her alabaster skin. Under her close cropped ebony hair she carried only a wand and wicked grin.
The last figure wore fog for a cloak and appeared to fade in and out of reality like a ghost in the sunlight. Its eyes burned a fiery red over his Grim Reaper sickle.
“Oh no,” Tynilia breathed. “It’s the Trilance, we must flee.”
But it was already on.
“Leave the bitch to me,” the Darcarre female said and lashed out with her wand, which sent a bolt of lightning into the center of Tynilia’s chest. His ally screamed as she went tumbling back into a pile of rocks.
Even as the twin Bestows, from the men, crashed into him, Jack knew he was at a distinct disadvantage. Since he already used his Ki fighting the armies below, he’d have no Magick to draw from during the battle.
Soon the agony tearing through him thrust such thoughts aside. The blue mass used the Caradon Flesh Disruption Bestow. Jack’s flesh blistered and ran. The Gloom was using his Flesh to Mist attacks and Jack watched in alarm as he body started to disperse into atoms.
Through this haze of pain, Jack saw Tynilia’s Wyren go at the Darcarre, only to be cut down. It gave Tynilia a chance to get to her feet and fire a spell of her own at the Xemmoni. “Jack, become a serpent. Our only chance is for us to flee. We can-”
“The only thing you can do is die!” The Darcarre shouted as her hair rose like snakes around her head. A blast of lightning sent his only remaining ally smashing into a cliff face. Her conscious fled and he could only hope her life remained.
But he had problems of his own. On his best day he would have been hard pressed to take out any one of these fiends. Without his Magick and facing all three, he prepared for the worst. With a battle cry escaping his lips, he held his battle axe in both hands as he charged the Caradon.
There was a flash of black and suddenly he found not only he, but Tynilia, in a dark mud covered cave. A small fire burned, which created more smoke than light. Black figures moved within the thick shadows. Jack still struggled to take in where he was and even remaining on his feet proved difficult.
“Greeting Stalwart. We meet again and now that you owe the Splinter Darcarre your lives, I believe you’ll be open to what we have to offer.”
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