The Clash of Three Chapter Two: Grief



They left at nightfall. The town lay dormant, and the time was ripe for escape. The fay that Algeron had encountered, Raithar, moved silently between the trees, and it seemed as if the leaves quieted under his light footsteps. Algeron struggled to keep up, the staff held in a sling over his shoulder as he half-dragged his uncle Varnum to follow.

Swiftness was vital to their escape, for it would be only a matter of hours after the first rays of the sun illuminated the village before someone noticed they were gone and alerted the guard and in a small village, word would spread like wildfire. Soon they would be followed, either by friend or foe, and he wanted to put as much distance between the village as possible before that time.

He would not admit it aloud, but the reason for their slow pace was Varnum. He had lost blood from the blow to his forehead, and the spell that Raithar had bound him with drained his energy significantly. Raithar silently acknowledged this fact as well, glancing behind him and grimacing.

Algeron had not yet decided his opinion of the fay. He showed no aggression despite his assault on Varnum. He had figured out that this was as a result of his uncle’s fear-induced aggression towards the intruder in his home.

“We may need to leave him behind if his condition does not mend.”

“I decide what happens to my uncle, not you.”

Raithar raised his thin eyebrows, then turned and continued to the edge of the forest.

They heard the Alvarians before they saw them. A loud screech tore through the air, unlike the cry of any ordinary animal. Raithar instantly began scanning the forest: for the first time since Algeron met him, he looked nervous.

“Are you sure they are searching for food?” asked Algeron.

“Don’t be foolish. They are hunting.”

“Hunting what?”

“Us.”

At that, Algeron shrugged his uncle’s arm off of his shoulder and lay him down. He reached behind his back and removed the staff. Though he had not learned its magic, at least it would serve as a good stave. Raithar touched the diamond in his breastplate, and as his hand came away, it was engulfed in a nimbus of light. The fay lifted his hand and his palm flared, illuminating the landscape at the edge of the forest.

They could now see that the forest ended in a valley, and at the edges of the valley stood Alvarians. They shrank away from the piercing light, but soon recovered, mandibles clicking menacingly.

“Prepare to fight, to the death if need be,” said Raithar. He touched his diamond again, and a tendril of light emerged from it, coalescing into a glowing steel sword. The fay repeated the action, except this time, the light formed a shield with elven runes marking its borders.

Algeron removed his longbow from the sheath on his back and strung it with a quick yank. He nocked an arrow.

“Wait,” said Raithar. He touched the tip of his sword to the arrowhead and muttered a word: where the weapons made contact, a light flared and the tip of the arrow was engulfed in green flame. “That will pierce their armor. Fire at will.”

Algeron drew his bow, feeling his shoulder blades come in contact with each other as he sighted down the shaft at an Alvarian skittering down towards them. He loosed and watched his magicked arrow take flight and lodge itself into the creature’s carapace. The Alvarian screamed like only a beast could as it became wreathed in flame and fell to the ground, twitching. Its comrades paused, then continued towards them with renewed vigor.

Algeron shot down two more creatures with Raithar’s help until they came too close to shoot. He drew his staff and backed up against Raithar, with Varnum moaning on the ground in between them.

The Alvarians advanced, hurling red orbs of power. Raithar began chanting and as Algeron looked down, a thin layer of light encased their bodies. “It will protect you from their magic, no more,” panted Raithar. A sheen of sweat covered his brow, showing the toll that his intensive use of magic had taken.

Algeron gripped the staff as an Alvarian lurched towards him, the red orbs it threw dissipating into the force field around his body. Algeron lunged forward with the staff and connected a blow, holding back a gag as the creature crumpled to the ground and blue fluids began oozing out of its crushed exoskeleton. He turned to see three other creatures engaging Raithar, swinging their hooked legs in an attempt to fell him. Raithar however wielded his sword as if it were part of his arm, and danced to the song of death as his blade shore limbs and heads from the Alvarians attacking him, beating back others with his shield. However, more Alvarians took the place of the ones that had fallen. As one stepped forward towards Varnum’s body, Algeron turned and began to run towards his uncle’s body. The Alvarian pressed a limb onto Varnum’s chest, and under the pressure the forcefield sizzled and died away, the creature’s leg embedding itself into Varnum’s body. The Alvarian screeched and removed its leg, and spurts of blood streamed out from the gaping hole in Varnum’s chest, shining gruesomely in the light.

A strangled cry escaped from Algeron’s lips as anger surged through him. The runes on the staff glowed white hot as Algeron felt a rush in his body, a feeling foreign to him. The staff began to vibrate, and with a scream, Algeron thrust it into the ground, and like the day in the forest, beams of light escaped from the tip of the staff. Each beam found and smote an Alvarian to the ground, and they each collapsed to the ground burning and screeching, and then all was silent except for the breaths emanating from Raithar and Algeron.

Algeron ran to his uncle’s body. He placed an arm under his back and lifted him up, Varnum’s head hanging limply and he made no sound. Algeron placed his palm over Varnum’s chest, where he expected, hoped to feel the steady rhythm that sustained life, but felt nothing, a stillness that was shattering. Algeron bowed his head as he crouched over Varnum’s lifeless body, wrapping the fatal wound in his uncle’s scarf and closed his eyes to prevent the fay from seeing him in his grief. A tear escaped against his will, running down the length of his nose, gradually decreasing in size as it left more of itself behind in a bright trail behind, and then fell to the soft grass below.