Wil Ogden - The Nightstone

But around him, there was nothing left to kill. Fiery explosions were throwing Vulak into the air, creating a space around him and Sheillene. Kehet looked up to see a shimmering disc floating through the air. Standing on the disc were several figures in robes of varying styles and colors. A woman in white robes was floating above the disc with her arms outstretched. Kehet’s eyes fell on the woman in the orange and red robes: Heather. She was shooting jets of flame from each of her fingertips. Where the jets hit the ground in an arc dozens of paces away, the area erupted in fire. The disc landed by Kehet and most of the robed figures rushed off.

Dozens of Unicorns created a perimeter around the disc, though it seemed unlikely that any of the now routed Vulak would be approaching them again.

Two of the robed figures came to Sheillene and the others knelt by the bodies of Marc and General Bryan and a handful of uniformed Abvi. One of the robed Abvi by Sheillene said, “She’s in no immediate danger.”

“This one is dead,” A man by General Bryan said.

“This one as well,” A man by one of the uniformed Abvi said.

“These live,” A woman kneeling by two of the Abvi said. “I can heal them.” She started murmuring something between a prayer and a song.

A man kneeling by another Abvi was doing the same but another Abvi lay dead as well.

“The giant is barely alive,” A healer in particularly ornate robes said as he knelt over Marc. “I’ll need the help of everyone whose patient is not in imminent danger. I’ll keep him breathing and make sure his blood flows, the rest of you, pick a wound and get to work. Maalia, you take the broken spine.”

A woman rushed over and set her hand on Marc’s back. She closed her eyes and Kehet could see the blue and white energies flowing in tiny strands from the sky, into the healer and as a thick flow from her hand into Marc. “He shouldn’t be alive,” she said. “Several of the spinal bones are shattered. I can mend them, but I’ve never seen someone survive such injuries.”

“Of course you can,” the ornately dressed healer, clearly a leader among them, said, “That’s why I chose you to do so.”

“There’s a Unicorn right here,” One of the Healers said. “They could help.”

“A Unicorn’s healing cannot make the difference between life and death,” the lead healer said. “They can heal any ailment of the flesh from poison to plague to the most dire burns, but they cannot heal bone and they cannot save a life from a mortal wound.”

Outside the perimeter of Unicorns the battle was no longer raging. What Vulak could were running away from the city. Kehet could not see a demon anywhere. There were Abvi on the battlefield, fighting a few stubborn units of Vulak and finishing off those left dying on the ground.

Off in the distance, dozens of mounted knights approached from the east. They charged down several groups of Vulak, though they actually killed very few. They seemed to simply be scaring the fleeing Vulak. Seeing the lances of the knights, Kehet understood why. A lance, like a Unicorn’s horn, could pierce an enemy and a lance with an enemy impaled on it cannot be used again and must be dropped. The Vulak were in full rout, so there was no real need to kill more of them.

The knights approached the circle, but only one passed into the perimeter. He rode up next to where the healers worked on Marc. “I know this man,” the knight said. “Will he live?”

“I cannot say,” the ornately dressed healer said. “We’ve fixed the wounds, but there is more to life than the body. His spirit must believe that he can survive and until he regains consciousness we will not know whether it has faith or has already given up.”

“And Sheillene?” The knight asked.

Two healers had rolled her on her side and were pulling the Vulak spear through her body. “She’s not in any danger,” one of the healers said. “The Unicorn purified her, so there is no risk of infection. Once we mend the wounds, which are not as bad as they look, she will be fine.”

The knight rode over to Kehet, “I’ve never seen a Unicorn,” he said. “I believed your kind were just a myth.”

Kehet shifted to his human form then said, “It wasn’t that long ago that I thought the same thing. Until recently I didn’t even know I was a Unicorn, let alone a god. And today I led twenty thousand of us into battle.”

“Prince Kehet?” The knight asked. He dropped from his horse and knelt. “Your Majesty, I didn’t know.”

“Please stand,” Kehet said. “Like I said, I didn’t know either and it’s a long story, one that I don’t even know the whole of.”

“I’m happy to meet you and happier to meet your army,” the knight said. “I brought every knight that I could gather on short notice and we are only a couple hundred. Seeing how many Vulak were here, I doubt we would have made much difference.”

“I’m sorry, I should have your name,” Kehet said.

“I’m Estephan: a Prince of Relarch,” the knight said.

“I’ve heard of you,” Kehet said. “I’m sorry to hear of your father’s passing.”

Estephan looked back to the east. “He’ll be remembered as a good king.”

Sheillene stepped up beside Kehet; she was pulling at a hole in her leather armor where the spear had been moments before. “Majesty, I owe you my life,” she said. “Thank you.”

Kehet nodded, he didn’t know how to respond. How could he make saving someone’s life sound humble?

Estephan saved him from having to try. He said, “I’m glad he did. Westgate wouldn’t be the same without Sheillene on the stage at the Rampant Gelding.”

“Highness,” Sheillene said. “Forgive me, I didn’t notice you. I was distracted.”

“It’s understandable,” Estephan said. “They tell me your half-ogre friend may live.”

“Marc?” Sheillene looked over at where the giant lay on the ground. The healers had finished but one still knelt at his side. “If he’s breathing, he’ll live. I can’t actually imagine anything killing him, and I saw a demon crush his spine and Marc still killed the demon. His spirit is not the kind to give up.” Sheillene’s eyes dropped to the ground and she said, “Prince Estephan, there is something you should be told.”

“Oh?” he asked. “Your other friends, are they well?”

Sheillene looked at General Bryan then she shook her head and said, “Most of my friends were not in the combat. I need to tell you of your brother.” Before Estephan could ask for details, she said, “He died a hero. Between him, his knights and Pantros, they stopped this from being an army of demons.”

Estephan took his helm off and fell to his knees. “He always liked the stories of the great battles and the heroes who fought in them. To be among them will make his spirit proud. The loss of his knights is also sad, and I can’t help but mourn your friend, he was young and not really meant for a warrior’s death.”

“I’m not dead,” said Pantros as he walked over to them. His armor had been torn and there was a cut on one of his shoulders, but the boy smiled impishly.

“Where did you go?” Sheillene asked. “I assumed you went back into the tunnel with Aven.”

“When the Vulak started to flee, I decided to take advantage of their panic,” Pantros said. He held up several pouches, most still attached to belts. “Vulak, it seems, keep silver and gold just like we do. Now several Vulak are a few silver and gold poorer.”

“And their pants are falling down,” Sheillene said. “This is how you cope with sadness?”

“Bryan?” Pantros said, looking over at the fallen General. The healers had draped a sheet over the body. “I expected him to die like this. I honestly expected he already had. The only thing I hadn’t been expecting was that it was for a good cause. I’m going to be sad that he’s gone, but I’m sure he’s causing all kinds of fun trouble in paradise.”