Chapter 272 - Bastion Against Shadow

I'm starting to get hyped for some of the scenes I have coming up! I had a few core ideas for this book when I first outlined it which we're reaching pretty soon. Can't wait :D

The dark chariot stormed through the trees. The shadow that cloaked it expanded, casting everything behind the ghostly apparition in black. Purple eyes were the only flash of light amidst grey robes. The figure cackled, its reaper’s scythe appearing once more, formed of spiralling tendrils of ethereal light. It was upon one of the gnolls before Hump could do anything, cleaving it through the waste.

The gnoll collapsed to the ground. There was no cut. Instead, a ring of burned flesh and fur marred its torso. Its eyes fizzled, smoke and steam rising from them along with its mouth, as if its insides were burning.

Hump trailed the chariot with his staff, searching for a clear shot but finding no luck amongst the trees. Standing there wasn’t going to do any good. Celaine had darted to the left—she was going to get him a clear shot so the least he could do was get close enough to land a good hit.

Moving forward behind the hunters, he watched as Ado closed in. The darkness of the chariot was no match for the light of the shaman. Its shadow dissipated like flakes of paper upon a fire before the essence of one of Owalyn’s Chosen.

A shrill, high-pitch scream pierced the air coming from the rider. Its darkness rose even thicker than before, the surrounding skeletal horsemen, undead direwolves, and crows becoming shrouded in it, engulfed by its power like an aura. The undead continued to pursue the fleeing gnolls, but Drakalyn’s hunters were closing in. Arrows brought down foe after foe, buying time for the gnolls to get behind the line.

Seeing Ado’s strength, the chariot veered away, charging to the left with speed.

Celaine was there then. She landed from the trees, directly in its path. An arrow was already on her bow, silver light sparking brilliant at its head. She loosed it in a burst of brightness, the arrow flying forward and straight for the rider. Fast as a blink, the rider raised its scythe toward it, ethereal essence pouring out from the blade and forming a curved shield before it. It reminded Hump of the light of Walt’s soul stone, constantly shifting and shimmering like light reflected on a rippling lake.

Celaine’s arrow was engulfed in the essence and swallowed up until not even a flash of silver light could be seen. The chariot continued forward, closing in on her. Green essence exploded in vines from Celaine’s legs and she used Sprint Step to leap over the chariot, flipping through the air.

Hump pushed his way through a thick bit of shrubbery and out into a parting between the trees just as the chariot tried to turn. There was his moment.

He aimed his staff, released a breath.

“Fire Beam.”

Two words and all the essence he’d been building in his staff exploded forward in a line of red heat. The air howled. The trees and branches stirred, caught by a blast of wind.

It struck the chariot side on. The rider had no time to turn or react before the beam broke over it, splitting and bathing both chariot and rider in fire. It screamed, even more shrill than before. Essence filled its voice, shaking Hump’s soul, but its influence was weak. He watched as the creature died burning, its shadow vanquished, its essence quelled.

With the fall of the chariot the undead lost their protection from the sun. For many, that was enough for them to crumble to bones and dust, and for the more powerful the hunters made short work of them. Hump shot off a few spells, but his attention was on the gnolls. He searched for the wounded, passing out the few potions he had in his pouch to those with the worst injuries. All the while, he searched for Rehk and Tokdaar. Months had passed since their journey through the mountains but he remembered them fondly. A growing fear built in him as more and more gnolls arrived but not his friends.

“Hump,” came Celaine’s voice.

He turned to see her appearing through the trees, Rehk at her side while Tokdaar clung to his mother’s leg. Hump let out a sigh of relief. Other than a nasty cut down Rehk’s arm, they appeared uninjured.

“It good see you both,” Rehk said eagerly. “You time arrival good.”

Hump laughed, relieved to see their friend alright. “It’s good to see you too.”

Tokdaar approached them excitedly, only to look around with disappointment. “Nisha!” the little gnoll snapped.

“Nisha’s in Drakalyn,” Hump said, smiling.

Rehk snarled something in gnollish and Tokdaar nodded, then Rehk turned back to Hump. “Where is our chief?”

“I haven’t seen him yet,” Hump said.

Rehk let out a low growl. “Then I go find him.”

Hump shook his head, clutching her arm. “Our leader is strong. Stay here. If Chief Rakar is out there, Ado will bring him back. He is blessed by Owalyn.”

Rehk held his eyes then nodded. “As you will it.”

It was not long before the hunters concluded the fight. Ado had the gnolls gathered into a group where they could be better tended before they moved to Drakalyn. There had to be fifty of them—a far cry from the numbers Hump witnessed when he first met the gnoll pack. Which left him wondering, just where were the rest of them?

For the undead to have pursued them so close to Drakalyn, something terrible must have happened. His instincts told him that this was not the end of it. They’d won a small skirmish, but the attack hinted at something more.

The undead had crossed the mountains in force.

The gnolls barked and snarled in their own tongue, excitement moving through the pack as Chief Rakar emerged from the trees, another fifteen gnolls with him. Each of them was blooded and covered in wounds that told the tale of their battle. They must have been trying to keep the attackers at bay.

“Chief!” Hump called, greeting the gnoll as he approached.

“Human wizard,” Rakar greeted, a vicious grin splitting his lips. “Gnoll pack owes you more debt.”

“We are allies in this war,” Ado said. “There is no debt to be had.”

Rakar turned to the shaman as Ado shifted back into his human form. While Ado was one of the tallest people Hump knew, Rakar still towered a foot taller.

“Many thanks,” Rakar said.

“Tell us what happened,” Ado said. “We have not seen the undead so close in such numbers before.

“Dead come from ground,” Rakar snarled. He made a motion with his arms. “…Mountains.” He searched for the words.

“They come from under mountains,” Rehk explained. “Attacked us at backs. We fight.” She shrugged. “We lost, so ran here. More on way.”

“More undead?” Ado asked urgently.

Rehk nodded. “Many more. Like ants in rotten stump.”

“Then we must be on our way,” Ado said. “Hunters! Prepare the gnolls to be moved. They shall return with us to Drakalyn.” He turned to Chief Rakar. “So long as that is alright with you, Chief.”

Rakar and Rehk exchanged a brief conversation before Rakar nodded.

“Pack is grateful to the Huntress’ pack,” Rakar said, his voice a gravelly snarl. “We come.”

***

As they returned to Drakalyn, Hump felt nervous. Something sinister was coming. The signs were everywhere—in hindsight, they’d been everywhere for a while. The lich’s armies were large enough to be a true threat, but as of yet she had only mobilised a fraction of them. Over the last month, Drakalyn’s hunters had fought across the mountains, holding back her force while the dragon keepers searched for Irila’s weakness—her phylactery. Yet all that had done was grant them a false sense of strength and security.

“You look worried,” Celaine said. They were back on the road now and nearing the village.

Hump glanced at her and nodded. “If the gnolls are to be believed, it seems Irila has many more tunnels through the mountains like the one I collapsed. Undead could attack from anywhere and everywhere.”

“They can come,” Celaine said. “Drakalyn will hold.”

“That might not matter,” Hump said. “If the undead claim too much ground, it will be almost impossible to launch a counterattack. Irila will outlast us from her stronghold in Estora.”

Celaine frowned. “Ah. That doesn’t sound good.”

Hump shook his head. “That’s why I’m worried. It’s all hypothetical though. If this is not the start of a large attack, or the keepers have narrowed down the location of the lich’s phylactery, it won’t matter.”

“Those are some big ‘ifs’. The keepers are good at what they do though. We will find a way. We always have.”

“Let’s cross our fingers that you’re right,” Hump said. Then to try and lift the mood, he added, “After all, we have a god helping us this time. That’s got to count for a lot.”

In truth, he felt helpless. The people of Drakalyn had their own way of doing things, and he was sure Celaine was right about their skill. They had proved as much in his time with them. However, he was in the dark. There were too many unknowns and he didn’t like that. Whether he was simply anxious or something else, his gut told him this was it. What they’d experienced so far was simply a taste of the war that would soon descend upon Drakalyn.

The gnolls were granted passage through Owalyn’s threshold and welcomed upon entering Drakalyn. Ado had sent a messenger ahead, so healers were already in place to aid the wounded, while food and water were handed out to any that needed it. Despite helping them, Hump noticed apprehension amongst Drakalyn’s people. A nervousness at being near the giant, warrior creatures. Not that Hump could criticise them for it, he’d had a similar reaction.

Hump stood by as Ado conversed further with Chief Rakar, digging further into the attack and what they had to prepare for. The gnolls didn’t know much. The undead arrived suddenly and were unfazed by the light of morning. If the light was no longer an obstacle an assault could come at any time.

Up ahead, Hump spotted three dragon keepers in the air. They landed in the temple, heading into its inner chambers.

“Were you expecting keepers to return today?” Hump asked Ado.

“What?” the shaman asked.

“Three keepers just returned. I couldn’t tell who it was.”

“Tessa’s squad,” Celaine said.

Ado looked toward the temple. “No, this was unexpected. Chief Rakar, I’m afraid I must leave you here for now. I must speak to our own leaders. Vetris, see that the gnolls are well taken care of.”

“Of course, Packmaster.”

Hump and Celaine didn’t ask for permission to follow as Ado headed toward the temple. Already, people were gathering outside, Keeper Yunillia amongst them. She had finally left her isolated healing.

That is not a good sign, Hump thought.

“Yunillia,” Ado called. The crowd parted for him as he marched to the front. Elder Ashera and Sulamir were already there. “What’s the situation?”

“Irila has summoned her army,” Yunillia said. “Flyers and calvalry have overwhelmed our towers and defensive teams, forcing their way through along the lakeside. An attack is on its way. They are erupting from all along the mountain front.”

“How can they fight during the day?” someone asked.

“Where is Lady Owalyn?”

Questions filled the square before the temple.

“Oi, Hump, something bad is coming.” Walt said, waking from his usual sleep.

“What do you mean?” Hump thought back, trying to glance around discretely. “Where is it?”

“To the… I don’t know which way is what. Just look behind you.”

Hump turned away from the temple to face the mountains in the distance. “I don’t see—”

He stopped. Something was wrong. It was subtle, but he sensed a change to the essence around him. Without thinking, he activated his left eye’s Spirit Sight and scanned the horizon, searching for the source of the power he felt. Essence flowed in colourful winds. The trees were filled with a gentle warmth. All appeared fine, yet Hump sensed a wrongness at the core of his being.

After a few seconds, Yunillia stopped speaking too. Chatter around him quietened down and all slowly shifted to look to the south.

A flicker of light caught Hump’s attention and he turned his gaze east of the mountains, toward the Temple of the Lake. There was a streak of purple, and suddenly the winds of essence were a storm of colour, spiralling madly above the forest as if caught in a torrent. Light flashed, and a beam of dark purple shot upward, piercing the sky like a narrow god pillar.

“Mother’s mercy,” Sulamir muttered.

There was another flash, this time to the left, and another pillar shot upward. Then another. More and more formed along the forest, until seven beams of the lich’s power surrounded their southern side.

Then all through the forest, purple light came to life. It shone up through the ground, rising amongst the leaves in broken streams of misty light. As it rose, the sun seemed to become further away. Its light dulled until only a faint orange spot lay beyond the darkness. Shadow engulfed the forest, thick as fabric.

“This is… this is the formation we’ve been attempting to remove,” Sulamir said.

“It’s the formation we failed to remove,” Ado snarled.

“Sulamir, organise our reserves,” Yunillia said. “We save our hunters. Tessa, take your dragons to the Temple of the Lake and protect the road into our forest. Get everyone you can back here. Leif, I want you front and centre. Highgaze must stand, and they will no doubt be coming in numbers.”

At once, everyone started to move.

“What will you do?” Ado asked.

“We must prepare for battle. I shall lead them.”

“The curse is not yet lifted, Yunillia,” Ashera said. “You must not go.”

Yunillia turned on her. “There is no choice. Someone must lead from the front and our hunters are out there dying.”

“Then allow me,” Ado said. “It is too dangerous for you to go. Remain here for all our sakes.” He shifted, his body transforming into that of a large eagle, though he was still far from the size of a wolf dragon. “I shall bring back everyone I can.”

Yunillia clenched her jaw, clearly wanting to argue. Finally, she nodded. “Go! Send word if you require reinforcements. I shall be ready.” She stepped closer, clutching Ado’s arm. “You have the morning, Ado. After that, we fly for Estora.”

Behind them, the fire of the Temple of the Everflame erupted in red, blazing furiously from the peak of the pyramid. The light exploded outward. Above, the Great Tree shone with silver light. It poured out of Drakalyn, pushing back the lich’s darkness. A bastion against her shadow, at least for now.