Chapter Six
The ORcs
Xanther and Haldor stood outside the inn, their conversation hushed but intense. The tavern doors creaked open, drawing their attention.
“Grandfather, I don’t want any trouble, I just want to go south,” Issac said, his voice steady but wary.
Xanther’s eyes glowed with cosmic power, golden flecks sparkling within them. “Who travels with you, boy?”
Issac glanced to his left and right, ensuring he did not have any men hiding. “Raziel and Venus.”
Xanther let out a dark chuckle, his voice dripping with disdain. “You dare to travel with her?”
Issac shrugged his shoulders, a resigned look on his face. “I do not really have a choice, Xanther.”
The dark-haired man crossed his arms, his gaze piercing. “I will tell you what, I will let you leave if you give me Aurelian.”
Raziel laughed, a sound filled with youthful defiance. “Is that what you want to let us leave peacefully?”
Xanther eyed the boy with caution, his suspicion evident. “Yes, yes, it is.”
“Sure.” Raziel descended the three steps from the tavern, his movements deliberate. He took the bow off his shoulder and handed it to Xanther.
The dark sorcerer held out his hand, an idle smirk playing on his lips. Raziel’s confidence was curious, almost unsettling. “Here, you can have it. I don’t really need it as I am just a simple fae.”
Xanther frowned, his instincts screaming that something was amiss. “Why does this feel too easy?” He took the bow in his hands, examining it closely.
“I have no idea, sir. Must everything in life be complicated? We can leave now as you promised, right?” Raziel’s tone was almost mocking.
Xanther nodded reluctantly, still wary. Issac smiled, and the three of them walked south out of the village.
“Raziel, get ready to run on my command,” Issac whispered, his voice tense.
The young fae just nodded, his eyes sharp and alert. He watched as his father took out a whistle and blew it three times, summoning three horses from the shadows.
“Now mount up and spur your horse hard.” The three of them quickly mounted their horses, kicking the beasts into a dead run.
Xanther was still eyeing the bow when it suddenly disappeared from his hands. He growled in frustration. “They knew that would happen. FOR ALL THAT IS HOLY IN NEXUS, I WILL MAKE THEM PAY FOR THEIR TRICK.”
Haldor stifled a chuckle, amused by his father’s rage. “Do not just stand there! Get the horses, or I will take this as your failure!”
Issac and his company rode hard, the wind whipping through their hair as they sped past the farmlands. The three of them slowed down in the protection of the forest, their breaths heavy.
Issac turned and looked back, his eyes scanning the horizon. “I think we lost them.”
They were so focused on their escape and what was behind them that they did not see the orcs on a collision path with them.
A loud battle cry filled the air, the ground shaking as the giant hogs charged them. The party did not have time to react. The orcs were upon them.
Venus’s mount, a majestic black stallion, reared in fear. An Orc’s blade cleaved its right front leg clean off, sending a spray of blood into the air. The horse collapsed, its eyes wide with terror and pain.
Venus staggered to her feet, her eyes blazing with determination. “We can’t let them capture us.” Her hand instinctively went to the hilt of her sword, ready to defend her companions.
The Orcs descended hard upon Issac’s and Raziel’s mounts. With brutal efficiency, their crude weapons found their marks.
Issac’s horse, a sturdy chestnut mare, fell first, its throat slashed open, while Raziel’s grey gelding was impaled by a spear, its lifeless body crumpling beneath him.
The two warriors found themselves on foot, surrounded by the chaos of battle, their mounts’ deaths a grim reminder of the ferocity of their enemies.
Issac groaned, pushing himself up from the ground. “Everyone, get up! We need to move!” His voice was strained, but his determination was unwavering.
Raziel, his body aching from the impact, stood up and drew his bow. “I’ll cover you. Get ready to fight.” His voice was steady, but his heart pounded with adrenaline.
The orcs, massive and menacing, advanced on them, their weapons gleaming in the dim light of the forest. Issac, Venus, and Raziel prepared for battle, their hearts pounding with adrenaline. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the distant cries of nocturnal creatures.
Issac, his eyes glowing with a soft blue light, chanted an incantation under his breath. A shimmering barrier of protection enveloped his party, the air crackling with magical energy.
Raziel drew his bow and focused on the orc’s mounts. Aurlien help me take out all their hogs. He closed his eyes and prayed to the god inside his bow.
The recurve glowed with a bright light. Raziel pulled the string taught and let the arrow fly. It arched high and then split into many different arrows, each one striking the hogs chest. The orcs stumbled but quickly recovered. The lead Orc focused his energy on Raziel.
The beast’s blade, etched with ancient runes, cut right through his protection spell, sending sparks flying. The orc walked right through, its eyes burning with a malevolent fire.
It rushed Raziel, but the boy had another arrow ready. The recurve, a relic from a bygone era, hummed with latent magic. Raziel took the shot, his hands steady despite the chaos around him.
Empowered by its recent kills. Electricity danced along its shaft and ignited into a cosmic flame. Thunder echoed through the forest as the orc’s heart was pierced with eldritch revenge.
The Ash Wood glowed with the light of Lumina, casting eerie shadows on the trees. The orc’s body burned, turning to dust in a matter of seconds.
Raziel’s rage blazed like a comet through the darkening forest. His eyes glowed with an astral light, the tips of his hair smoky like shadows.
Anger surged through his veins, his expression hard with a desire to fight back. To protect his family and friends. Eldritch fury ignited in his soul, fueling his every move. Another arrow knocked and ready, he let it loose.
It arced through the air, splitting into three and taking out more orcs in a brilliant display of magic.
Venus, her eyes sharp and focused, drew her sword. Her blade sparked against the orcs’ armor, each strike precise and deadly. She moved with the grace of a dancer, her every motion calculated and efficient.
Issac, sensing an opportunity, began to prep a kill spell. His hands moved in intricate patterns, drawing on the ambient magic of the forest. But he was blindsided from the left, an orc’s club smashing into his side.
He had to teleport away, reappearing a few feet away, gasping for breath. Issac held his side, somehow it made it hurt less. He gritted his teeth, determined to rejoin the fight.
Three orcs rushed Raziel. He was not fast enough to get another arrow ready. He held the ancient recurve above his head like a shield, his right hand glowing with cosmic power. He cowered, knowing he did not have a close combat weapon. He slammed his eyes shut and waited for the orc’s blade to slice him in half.
