Mark Sehestedt: Sentinelspire

Roaring like a wild animal, Sauk was still trying to find a way past the vines, but no matter how much he dodged or slashed, more always rose to take his place, pursuing him.

A weapon in each hand, Berun resumed his advance, more cautiously this time. A large patch of skin on his stomach and chest was blistered and torn, and he was obviously in pain.

Lewan turned and crouched next to Ulaan. She was trembling, her eyes wide. Lewan tried to peel back some of the vines and leaves. Some that had been burned crisp broke away, but most of the foliage still twisted tightly around her. He could see that her clothes had taken most of the flames. Only the skin of her hands and one cheek showed any injury from the fire. Her shivering was more from fear and shock than severe physical harm.

"Ulaan, can you hear me?"

Her eyelids fluttered and she looked at him. She didn't speak, but her gaze seemed to acknowledge his presence. Lewan pulled and tore at the vines. Whether they had been weakened by the flames or because the druid's magic was focused elsewhere, Lewan made progress, if too slow for his liking. Some of the vines had thorns that gouged and ripped his skin, but he ground his teeth through the pain and kept at it.

Lewan pulled and twisted at her bindings, snapping a thick tendril and freeing her left arm. "I don't suppose you could call for help?"

"Th-they're dying, Lewan," said Ulaan. Lewan could see that she had the jewel of the necklace clutched in her hand. "M-my… sister." A sob shook her and she squeezed her eyes shut. "They're all dying."

Lewan looked over his shoulder. Sauk was only a pace or two from the ledge, the vines and foliage still pushing and whipping at him. More vines had risen to try to seize Berun, and Chereth continued to lob balls of flame at them both. Sauk managed to duck or dodge most, though he had a large burn on his forearm. Berun was avoiding the fire or swiping it away with the hammer.

Lewan knew there was little he could do to help his master. But he might be able to help Ulaan.

"If I can get this off of you," he pulled off another long vine, "do you think you can walk?"

"Get me out of here, and I'll run," she said.

Lewan smiled and tore at the greenery. Some of the smaller creepers had burrowed into Ulaan's cloak, and bits of fabric ripped away as he pulled the foliage.

"Lewan?"

"What?" He kept at his work, not looking her in the face. "I meant what I said. That I care for you." "We'll talk of that later." Behind him, Sauk roared. "If there is a later."

A great many of Talieth's blades lay dead or dying. Only the most skilled of her assassins had lasted past the first assault, for their steel did little to deter the druid's creatures. The monsters hurled themselves on the assassins' steel, and if they felt any pain, it only seemed to fuel their fury. The assassins who could cast spells lasted longer, and Talieth was foremost among them, hurling fire and bolts of arcane energy at the creatures. Flame seemed the only thing that gave the creatures pause-and even that did not last long against their cunning, for they came in great numbers, some throwing themselves at their prey, distracting them, while others lunged in from behind.

Talieth lost sight of Valmir, concentrating all her attention on killing anything that came too close. It didn't take her long to realize that the creatures were slaughtering the assassins only as a means to an end. They were coming for her.

The assassins nearest her seemed to realize it as well, and they fled, leaving Talieth standing alone in the heavy mists, surrounded by a ring of the druid's minions. They moved in slowly, their eyes reflecting the light of the fire Talieth held in her upraised hand. It sizzled and hissed as the rain struck it.

One of the things stepped forward, crouching and keeping a wary eye on Talieth's fire. It reached out a hand toward her, then its entire body stiffened, its head shook, and its eyes rolled back. "Talieth," it said, though she knew that it was not the creature's voice, but something speaking through it. "Bring it to me. You fought a good fight. You lost. Give me Erael'len, and even now I will forgive you. Come to Kheil. Join me in our new world."

A shudder passed through the creature, and all stiffness left its body. It was fluid grace again. It watched her, waiting for her answer.

Talieth took a deep breath and squeezed her hand shut, extinguishing the fire. "Take me to him," she said.

+++++

Berun struck a gout of flame with the hammer and dodged another. From the edge of his vision, he saw Chereth muttering, and he knew the druid was toying with them. His power was beyond anything that he or Sauk could hope to withstand. Berun's heart dropped as he watched his old friend. His master, the one person in the world that Berun had held as an ideal, had gone mad. Whether it had truly been the seductive evil of Sentinelspire, the druid's own blind ambitions, or a combination of both… at this point, did it matter? All that mattered was stopping him.

Despite Berun's delusions to the contrary, Chereth had indeed become the Old Man. No matter what Chereth told himself, his motives were little different than Alaodin's. Alaodin had sought power and dealt in murder, but he'd rationalized it, believing it necessary to protect himself and those he loved. Was Chereth any different? And had he always been that way?

Swinging the hammer, Berun deflected more fire. It shattered into sparks and singed his bare arm. Berun backed away for a moment's respite and risked a glance behind him. "Lewan!" he shouted. The boy had succeeded in getting most of the vines off the girl. "Get out of here! Run!"

Lewan did not look up from his efforts. "Trying!"

"Enough of this!" Chereth called out, and he thrust his staff toward Sauk.

The writhing vegetation surged like a wave over rocks and hit the half-orc. Sauk struck at the greenery with his arm, but it did no good. The thick mass of vines, leaves, and writhing wood slammed into him, his legs struck the stone ledge, and he toppled over. His feet went up over his head and then he was gone, tumbling over the tower's edge.

Chereth swept his arm around, and a mass of leaves and branches rose and enveloped Berun. He lashed out at them with the hammer and knife. The blade sliced through a few branches before the vines wrapped round both his arms and pulled them to his chest. More snaked around his legs and torso. He screamed as the sharp leaves and prickly vines tore into the blistered skin along his stomach and chest. The mass of vegetation constricted, pulling his limbs tightly against his body so Berun could move only his head. He felt himself lifted up and borne toward the druid. He looked down upon the half-elf, who was not even breathing heavily.

"You see the power I now wield?" said Chereth. "You see the folly of opposing me? Forsake this foolishness, my son."

Chereth turned away, leaning upon his staff as he walked across the roof. The vines holding Berun bore him along after the half-elf. Chereth stopped before two statues-one of a winged lion, the other of a great stag whose antlers spread wide, reaching toward the lion's wings and forming a sort of arch. The druid reached inside his robes and withdrew a rod carved from white wood, or perhaps bone. He spoke a string of words in a language Berun did not recognize, and the air under the arch shimmered and blurred like a summer haze on the horizon.

"See?" said Chereth. "This portal leads to a realm of endless wild, where bricks and mortar are unknown, and the highest creatures live in harmony with the lowest. There, I will dwell while this world cleanses itself of Sentinelspire's fire and ash." He faced Berun again. "Do you still wish to oppose me? To die here amongst those who would trample upon all we hold dear?"