David Dalglish: Weight of Blood

The remaining soldiers turned to flee, but there was one slight problem. An enormous ball of fire erupted at their feet, engulfing all three in flame. Two died from the horrible burns. A third slumped and whimpered in pain. Aurelia walked over to him and knelt on one knee. She placed a hand on his head and looked over his wounds while he glared up at her.

“Your wounds are beyond saving,” she said softly. “I’m sorry.”

She ended his pain with a small lance of ice through his forehead.

“Thank you for your aid,” one of the elves said. “We must fall back to the forest. If they chase us there it will be suicide.”

“We will not have to fall back so far,” Felewen said. “They have scattered about our town. Their numbers mean nothing now. Besides,” she grinned, “we have Aurelia Thyne.”

Both bowed politely.

“Never could we have used a mage’s power more than now,” one said. Aurelia blushed and waved him off.

“Please we must…”

A cold chill spread through her body like water from an underground stream meeting a creek. She whirled and stared down the street. Walking without escort was a lone man shrouded in black robes. The cowl of his cloak hid much of his face.

“Come, brother,” one of the elves said. “It is the one who protected them from our arrows.”

The other nodded, took up his sword, and charged. His brother was not far behind. Felewen joined them, for she too had watched as the black shield had knocked aside their arrows and then shattered their bows.

Aurelia did not move. Her eyes were frozen on this strange man. Power rolled off him. He was strong, and even more so, he was terrifying. She had no doubt who this man was; he was the nameless necromancer, one of the few who could best Scoutmaster Dieredon in combat.

“Stop, you cannot defeat him,” she shouted. None listened. “Felewen, please!”

Felewen glanced back to her, and that small pause saved her life.

The man in black had made no threatening move as the other two charged. They were almost upon him when he cast aside his hood to reveal his ever-changing face, his deep red eyes, and his horrible smile. His hands lunged forward, the floodgates opened, and all his power came rushing forth. A wall of black magic rolled like a tidal wave conjured from his fingertips. The elven brothers tumbled through and vanished. Felewen leapt back when she saw the attack coming. She rolled behind a house and tucked her head.

The wave continued down the street, straight for Aurelia.

“I do not fear you,” she hissed through clenched teeth. A wall of water swirled about her, growing from unseen streams. She sent it forward, just as tall and high as Velixar’s. The two met in a thunderous roar, intermixing in a maelstrom of darkness, water, and air. Then they both dissolved, their magic spent.

Aurelia held back tears. Velixar’s magic had peeled the flesh from the elves’ bodies. Blood leaked through muscle and tendon, and their innards spilled from their abdomens. She hoped they died instantly, but she knew better. They had suffered tremendously.

“You monster,” she shouted. “What meaning does this battle hold to you?”

“Everything,” Velixar shouted, hurling a flaming ball of fire from each hand. “I desire panic and bloodshed all across the east!”

Aurelia summoned a magical shield about her body. The fireballs thudded three feet from her body and detonated. The two nearest buildings crumpled, their walls and roofs blown back by the power. The elf winced, nearly knocked to her knees by the force.

“What madness gives you such a desire?” she asked, attacking with the strongest spells she knew. Several lances of ice flew down the street followed by a ball of magma. The ball rolled behind the lances, covering the ground in flame. Velixar laughed.

A wave of his hand created a similar shield as Aurelia’s, but instead of keeping it close to his body, he shoved it forward. The lances shattered into shards when slammed against it. The ball of magma halted when touching the barrier and then reversed direction. The elf glared, detonating the attack with a thought. Molten rock covered the street, splattering across both Velixar’s and Aurelia’s shields before sliding to the dirt.

“How long can you keep this up?” the necromancer asked. He took out a bag of bones and scattered more than thirty pieces. “How long before you break?”

One by one, the bone pieces shot straight at Aurelia.

The elf dropped to one knee, words of magic streaming out her mouth as fast as she could speak them. Her magical shield could halt attacks of pure magical essence, such as the conjured fire, but animated objects were a different matter. The magic projecting them would die at her shield but the pieces would retain their momentum.

The dirt before her rumbled, cracked, and then ripped up in a great physical wall. On the other side, pieces of bone thumped against it, one after another.

“Cute,” Velixar said, “but pointless.”

An invisible blast of pure force shattered the wall. Aurelia crossed her arms before her face as chunks of earth smashed her slender form. She rolled with the blows, her mouth casting before she halted. Ice spread from house to house, walling Velixar off on the other side.

“From dirt to ice?” Velixar asked. “The end is just the same!”

The center of the wall exploded inward, but this time Aurelia was prepared. A rolling thunder of sound shoved all the broken shards forward, sending even the remaining chunks of the wall down the street in a chaotic assault. Velixar grinned. Clever girl.

The wave of sound and ice slammed his body. He flew backward, ice tearing his skin. No blood came forth from those wounds. The larger pieces smashed his body from side to side, which turned limply with each blow. Then the wave passed. Aurelia leaned on one knee, gasping for air as she stared at the man in black, now a crumpled mess of robes in the center of the street. The body suddenly convulsed, the chest going up and down in quick, jerky spasms. When the sound reached her, Aurelia knew her doom. Velixar was laughing.

He stood, brushed off pieces of ice clinging to his robes, and then glared at her from afar.

“Not good enough,” he said.

Wild anger took over his face. Black lightning thicker than a man’s arm tore down the street. Aurelia gasped as all her power flowed into her shield. The collision sent her flying, her magical barrier shattered into nothingness. The lightning continued, swirling about her body. Every nerve in her body shrieked with pain. She landed hard, unable to brace for the fall. The air blasted out of her lungs, and for one agonizing second they refused to draw in another breath. Slowly the black magic seeped out of her, the pain faded away, and then she felt dusty air pour into her lungs.

“You are a powerful sorceress,” Velixar said, his anger gone as quickly as it had arrived. “But I have fought the founders of the Council of Mages. I have killed men who thought themselves gods. I have died but once, to Ashhur himself. There is no shame in your defeat.”

Aurelia struggled to her feet. The well of magic inside her was dry. In time, her strength would return, but she doubted the necromancer would give her a day to rest. She used a bit of the magic she did have left to summon her staff. If she were to die, she would die fighting any way she knew how.

The man in black paused, outstretched his hands, and began to cast. He would give her no chance to strike.

A blade stabbed in at his side. Velixar whirled, his speed far beyond mortal. He stepped past Felewen’s slash and slammed a hand against her chest. Dark magic poured in. Her arms and legs arched backward, her sword fell from her hand, and her mouth opened in a single, aching shriek. Bits of darkness flared from her mouth, her eyes, and her nostrils.