David Dalglish - The Cost of Betrayal

“Be healed,” he whispered, hoping his meager abilities would suffice. Tarlak saw his most trusted friend so severely wounded and decided enough was enough. Tessanna so far refused to lower, instead flapping her black wings higher and higher.

“Time to fall, angel,” Tarlak said, pulling out a wand and activating its magic. He had tried to harm her with spells. Now it was time to try the opposite. Tarlak’s wand shattered, the powerful magic spent. Waves of anti-magic swarmed over the girl, dispelling all enchantments and effects. Her wings faltered, their magic broken. The fire faded from her flesh, revealing her pale skin and dripping wet hair. With nothing to keep her afloat, she fell, vulnerable and stunned. The two fighters awaited her below, their blades prepared for a killing stroke.

“Do not harm her!”

Antonil turned in surprise to the voice, but Harruq only felt his gut sink ever further. Qurrah had come. A wall of invisible force followed the shout, slamming both of them back. Tessanna hit the ground and gasped in pain. Down the street walked Qurrah, his whip wrapped about his arm in dark flame. His eyes seethed red. Darkness surrounded his other hand, the makings of another spell. A single black tendril shot out, feinted an attack, and then wrapped about Tessanna. He pulled her to him. She collapsed in his arms, sobbing in the rain.

“Qurrah,” she said, all her power leaving her. “Qurrah, I’m so sorry, I didn’t…”

“We’re leaving,” he said to her. To the others, he glared death and waited for someone to make a move. He half-expected the Guard Captain, or maybe his brother, but it was Tarlak who struck. A lance of ice flew across the street, the end jagged and impossibly sharp. Clenching his fist, Qurrah created a magical barrier, shattering the projectile. A second and third followed, each one suffering a similar fate. The half-orc chuckled.

“Is that all you can muster?” he asked. Tarlak cracked his knuckles.

“How about this then?” Fire curled inside his hands, growing larger and larger. He glanced to the two fighters, who stood wounded and weak.

Charge him, he thought, hoping they would get the idea. Every bit of power Tarlak poured into the fireball, draining his reservoir of magical energy. It flew from his hands like a giant comet, a great yellow tail trailing after. Air sizzled and smoke billowed. Qurrah took a step, braced his legs, and extended his right arm. The fireball hit the barrier and detonated, swarming over the shield but not crossing. Qurrah shuddered, his mind nearly blanking. He felt his protection cracking. Another spell would surely break it, but the fire was spent. The flame and smoke cleared, and Qurrah gasped for air.

“It is time to go,” he said to his lover.

“Into the shadows,” Tessanna said, breaking from his arms and running toward the nearest alley. Qurrah turned to follow, but his eye caught movement. Tarlak was on his knees, completely exhausted, and his brother stayed back, confusion evident on his face. The paladin still hovered over the wounded assassin. The Guard Captain, however…

Antonil charged, shield leading. Qurrah lashed out with his whip, taking the man’s feet out from under him. The fall jarred his shield. Antonil screamed in pain as he felt the broken pieces of his collarbone grind together. Qurrah turned to leave, but there was one other he had forgotten.

“Ashhur condemn thee!” Delysia shouted, having snuck around and then charged with Antonil. Holy light flashed from her hand, burning his sight like a dagger through each eye. He shrieked, thrusting his fingers forward and unleashing a blast of ice. The priestess struck the building behind her, ice freezing her wrists and chest to the wall. Staggering like a blind man, Qurrah followed his lover’s voice.

“Wait,” Harruq shouted, breaking out of his paralysis. He rushed after, only to see them step into a dark portal similar to Aurelia’s. “Damn it!” he screamed. He slammed a fist against a wall, fuming in mindless anger. “Why? What the abyss did we do?”

“Harruq,” he heard his leader call.

The half-orc turned, his swords sagging in his arms. Despite his anger, his guilt overtook him upon seeing his friends. Haern lay on the ground, obviously in pain. Delysia shivered in the rain and ice, her skin pale and her lips blue. He watched Antonil crawl onto his back, gasping for breath while tears streaked his face. And then there were the bloodied bodies of the guards…

“Harruq,” Tarlak said again, grabbing his attention. He pointed to where Delysia was stuck to the wall. “Break her free, will you? We need her spells.”

“Yeah,” Harruq said. He sheathed Condemnation and took Salvation into both hands. He smashed the ice with its hilt, spreading cracks with each blow. Delysia coughed, coming out of her daze.

“Haern,” she moaned. “Where’s Haern?”

“He’s fine,” the half-orc said, turning the blade around to slide it underneath the ice. He pulled, dislodging a large chunk. “Take a lot more than that to hurt ol’ sneaky. I bet dragons would quake if they knew he was coming to say hello.”

“And they would flee in terror from Tessanna,” she said, smiling half-heartedly.

“You didn’t flee,” Harruq said. His hits against the ice grew harder. “You came after them, while I just stood there.”

“Harruq…”

The half-orc shook his head, and the comment died on her lips. With most of the ice cracked and broken, he sheathed his sword. The rest he pulled off with his hands, ignoring the biting cold. With a soft cry, she fell forward, clutching him to stand.

“Easy,” he said. “Easy. Catch your breath.”

“I need to help them,” she said, pushing away. He let her go, feeling more helpless than ever before. She staggered toward Haern, only to halt beside Antonil. She said words to him, although he did not hear. Her hands took on the white glow of a healing spell, and three times she cast a spell on his chest. Tarlak checked on her, and then went to Harruq.

“Your brother…” he said, pointing to his sister and his friend. “Your brother did that, along with that Tessanna. Yet you never struck. You watched while my sister nearly killed herself to slow their retreat. You let Lathaar slay the creature. You let Haern burn against the girl. I expect better from you, Harruq. Worlds better.”

Lightning flashed, and in its light, Tarlak could see the anger burning inside Harruq’s eyes. Good, he thought. Let it burn. Something needed to wake him up. Something needed to force him to see. The wind picked up. Harruq opened his mouth to speak, but then a blue portal tore open behind them. They turned, Harruq realizing for the first time his wife had even left. When the elf dashed through, his words caught in his throat. Her eyes terrified him.

“Harruq!” she shouted, flinging her arms around him. He held her tight. She let his embrace calm her for a second before pushing away. “Qurrah broke into the tower,” she said. Her husband’s arms tightened around her waist.

“Is Aullienna…?”

“He poisoned her,” the elf said. “Please, I need Delysia, she needs to come back!”

“Take me to her,” the priestess said, still hunched over Antonil. She gave him a soft kiss on the forehead before standing. Her white robes were covered with mud and water, her hair was soaked to her skin, and exhaustion tainted her face. Somehow she remained regal. “Take me to her, and I will do what I can.”

“Thank you,” Aurelia said. She glanced back to the portal, which she had kept open. “Please, hurry. I don’t know how long she has.”

Harruq had heard enough. He dove into the portal. He had to see her. He had to see it for himself. His only thought was simple, plain denial.