Shadow of the Midnight Star--Part 3
The dark elf onslaught of Anastaré continues, and Ihanen must make a choice.
Ihanen had just kissed Artemae goodnight and left the feast to wander the bridges back to this home. His friend, Silbaé, accompanied him.
“Are you eager my friend?” Silbaé asked.
“Yes, I am,” Ihanen said, staring out at the lights of the city. His mind was filled with Artemae’s face, teeth gleaming, her lilting laughter in the air.
“She will make a fine bride. You are very blessed by Luoja.”
Ihanen nodded. “Without a doubt.”
Silbaé considered him for a moment. “Let me give you some advice as someone who is already married. You need—”
There was an explosion. Both elves whirled around. One of the trees several bridges away was engulfed in fire. Another tree blossomed into flame in the distance, then another. Screams and shouts reached Ihanen’s ears as did the piercing whistle of arrows.
Silbaé shouted. “We are under attack. We need to—”
His words were cut short in a wet gargle as a black-fletched arrow sunk into his throat. Ihanen leaped away as another hissed by, its vicious wind lashing out at his cheek.
“No! Silbaé, you—”
The scraping of a blade being pulled from its scabbard drew Ihanen’s gaze upward. A dark elf was descending upon him, a scimitar drawn. As the shadúnae cut downward, Ihanen rolled to the side, dodging the cut. He stood and drew his sword, lashing out with the weapon, catching his adversary in his side and sending him to the ground in a flash of blood.
Ihanen turned. More shadúnae were coming towards him, two males and a female. The she-elf came at Ihanen, bringing her glaive down with a quick swipe that he barely dodged. She twirled it around and lunged the butt of the pole weapon at him. Ihanen knocked it aside and took a step back, throwing a glance around him. He could see hundreds of dark elf warriors swarming over the bridges of Anastaré. Arrows flew around like deadly insects, finding their marks and felling the elves of the Sun Court who had not had enough time to prepare a defense. If the valúnae did not organize, they would soon be overwhelmed.
We have to rally, Ihanen thought. The glaive-bearer continued to swing at him as the two males flanked him on his left and right bearing curved blades. He leaped back, lithe and graceful, as their blades cut through air.
The elf on his left regained his composure and let out a grunt as he lunged with his sword. His skill was sloppy, and Ihanen glanced the blow aside with ease, bringing down his sword with two quick strokes that lopped off both of the elf’s arms. Before the limbless elf could even scream, Ihanen relieved him of his head.
The two remaining shadúnae closed in. Ihanen ducked as the female swung her glaive at him. He slipped under her guard, driving his blade into her heart. As he did so, he reached out and grasped the face of the other dark elf assailant. A blaze stirred in his heart, rising to the surface like a raging beast as he shouted a word of the Old Magic.
“Anaparo!”
Pale golden flame erupted from his hand into the dark elf’s face. The screams keened out in a garbled cacophony from the burning shadúnae as he fell and succumbed to the fire.
Ihanen took in a deep breath but did not have time to rest. More dark elves swarmed toward him, coming from both sides of the bridge. Several arrows came at him, which he deflected with his blade. He leaped over the side of the bridge, alighting on a branch below. Several of the dark elves gave pursuit, leaping after him and landing panther-like mere yards from him. Ihanen felt the natural world flex around him as he summoned more fire into being and flung balls of flame at the dark elves. Some vanished into magical mist, evading the fiery projectiles, while others were swallowed by the hungry flames and casted from the branch, descending like falling stars to the forest floor below.
Ihanen turned and fled.
As he hopped from tree to tree, he took encouragement to see that many of his kin were now alert and armed. The shadúnae’s element of surprise had worn off, and now the light elves of the City of the Blazing Star were at war. Screams and the ringing of metal cascaded through the air. It was only now that he had a moment to think of Artemae. He had to find her.
And Silbaé…Ihanen froze on a branch and turned. The bridge where he and his friend had been conversing only a few moments ago was being overrun by dark elves. In all likelihood, his friend was dead. No one could have survived that long from a wound to the throat.
Still…a small glimmer of hope…
The deep bellow of war horns sounded through the forest. Battle called, and time was short.
Ihanen shook his head in despair. He had to find Artemae before the worst happened. Before it was too late.
“Luoja forgive me. Luoja protect Silbaé.”
Ihanen continued on his path.
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