BOOK 1, CHAPTER 5 – Kings of Beasts

It was the second day that Artien trailed behind the Elf and his mercenaries. The healer woman gave him a portion of her bread and water. Whether it was because she felt sorry for him or it was her job, he didn’t know. What was most puzzling about the morning was the way that she watched him.

Did he give something of himself away while asleep? He didn’t have any specific dreams. After meditating half the night his body had slightly recovered. Only aches and pains remained. Was she concerned for him?

“Ha-ah.” He sighed helplessly.

There was no use thinking about it. He was better off waiting for a time to escape. There had to be a chance at some point. He watched the mercenaries carefully, pretending to be interested in the landscape. He was slightly, as he hadn’t been so far away from home before.

It was mid-day when there was a change in the party. The elf held up a hand, stopping the entire party. From his position in the back, Artien could still see the elf’s ears twitching slightly. The atmosphere in the party changed to intense silence. In the silence he could feel a readiness.

Redflame’s head tilted, then his hand clenched into a fist. All mercenaries withdrew their weapons, staying on horseback. Sensing the danger, Artien kept his distance. At the end of the rope he’d be able to better move. In the middle of the horses he could be trampled.

For a short moment, the intense silence continued. On the ground, Artien felt the addition of a tiny tremor. Something cried far off into the distance on the left side of the road. The tremors continued, becoming constant. Another cry joined the first and suddenly all the birds flew out of the trees into the safety of the sky.

The mercenaries faced the forest, waiting. The healer and Redflame were behind the three other mercs. After a few short minutes, beast cries, growls, and barks sounded from a distance within the forest. A stronger trembling of the ground arrived, and the noises came closer. Everyone gritted their teeth, expecting the worst.

Artien watched the forest, seeing underneath the darkness of the canopy shadows rushing towards them. The lithe mercenary withdrew small daggers from inside his clothing, carefully taking aim. He threw three blades, each hitting a target. First blood drew on the unknown enemy.

Artien’s attention was drawn to his immediate surroundings. He felt the mana in the air being gathered and condensed. He looked at Redflame who was chanting under his breath. In his right hand a small glow emitted. Mana shaped and took form. A small, blue-white sphere with mist appeared.

Redflame threw the ball directly at the closest shadows. Deep in the forest, the sphere of mana vanished, then a blue glow quickly spread out. Artien’s eyes widened as he heard the cracking of ice and force of the magical attack back on the road.

So this was magic! Healing, attacking… It was all so exiting! His heart picked up, getting caught up in the moment and watching Redflame and the lithe mercenary unleash attacks one after the other. He was distracted, so he didn’t see a hidden shadow from behind leap from the nearby woods.

All he saw was a long yellow-colored beasts leap straight across the party, taking the sword-wielding mercenary by surprise. The mercenary cried out as his arm was bitten, the weight of the beast and force of the attack taking him directly to the ground. More shadows entered into the sunlight, showing a pack of yellow wolf-like magical beasts sprung out.

Artien moved so his back was to the party, seeing them all surrounded by at least a dozen of the beasts. Sweat curled down his cheek as he looked around. He was situated directly in the middle, hands tied, and no weapons. He needed a weapon.

Artien looked down at his hands, suddenly remembering that punch. Was that not a weapon? Were his hands, feet, and body not weapons? He didn’t need a blade to fight. He’d proven that already. He had force.

Artien quickly calmed himself, closing his eyes and using the 3 second breathing technique. He erased the situation temporarily from his mind, going within himself. He searched for that flicker, flame of mana. He drew on it, willing it to spread and envelope him. The flame danced as he touched it, happy to join again.

The small amount of mana provided dimmed the pain from his previous injuries. It strengthened his body, giving him new energy. He came back to himself, the noise of the fight slamming into his ears. His eyes shot open. He looked around, taking everything in.

Beasts were all around him. Only Redflame was still mounted and untouched, shooting off magic in one hand and slicing with a short blade in the other. The healer was dealing a deathblow with a small dagger to the beast atop the swordsman, while healing his arm with the other. Both magic users dual-wielding!

His sight drew to the side at the sound of a roar. The axeman was swinging his double-headed axe in fast arcs, slicing into the grouped up beasts. A swift shadow appeared behind a single wolf, stopping long enough to stab two short blades into it’s back. The beast cried out and tried biting behind it, but the shadow had moved on. The beast fell, unable to get up. The light of it’s eyes slowly stilled.

The shadow jumped from beast to beast. As more wolves came out from the forest to take the place of the fallen, the shadow constantly left death in his wake. The blows were accurate and deadly. The shadow jumped back to the party, revealing the panting lithe mercenary.

Artien felt danger behind him. He moved, barely dodging the snapping jaws of one wolf as it moved from him to atop the horse he was tethered to. The rope snapped, dropping to the floor as the wolf bit through it and into the horse’s neck.

The horse fell with a groan. The wolf hung on, remaining on top. It let go as the horse stilled, blood covering it’s fur. It eyed Artien, targeting him. It licked it’s chops and hung it’s head, growling low.

Redflame glanced at his party, seeing the state they were in. “Towards the east! Stay on the road. We’re retreating!” He yelled reluctantly.

The mercenaries heard the command, regrouping. The healer mounted up behind Redflame, one hand healing a wound on the horses flank. The lithe and sword-wielding mercenaries quickly moved to each side of the horse. The axeman roared at the wolves at the back, still slaying several in a few swings.

As all of this occurred, Artien carefully moved through the corpses, back towards the forest on the left side of the road. He dodged a few more strikes from the wolves and backed further and further away. He became surrounded himself. He recalled the force attack he laid out on the target back home.

He felt the flame inside flicker. It heated up, flowing through a central point on his back and down his arms. His hand slowly turned red. A wolf from the side lunged in. Artien clenched his teeth, grimaced, and struck down.

At that moment, the healer looked up. She sensed a strange energy. Right in front of her, she saw the young boy strike out. His fist connected with the top of the head of the wolf trying to snatch a leg. The head of the wolf exploded, blood and gore spraying in all directions. The force threw the wolf’s body back into other wolves, knocking them down.

She watched in amazement as the boy, taking advantage of the wolves’ surprise, launched himself with speed into the forest. She wasn’t the only one to see. With another roar, the axeman watched the boy escape. Filled with bloodlust and anger, he gave chase. He furiously plowed through the remaining wolves and entered the forest.

Redflame snorted in disdain. He shook his head, launching another ice attack on the wolves in front. Opening the way, he led the party out of the beast encirclement and escaped. He grinned, a sneer appearing on his face. That boy – he wouldn’t let such interesting prey escape for long.

Artien ran through the forest, knocking any beast that dared cross his path aside. He became covered in blood. Unable to hold himself back, each hit caused massive destruction. He felt with each use his body grew tired. He began to evade attacks and only use force when he was cornered.

As he ran forward he became aware that something was chasing him. He took an opportunity to look back and saw the axeman coming for him. His face tightened. This was the same man that enjoyed beating him last night.

If he got caught again the man would kill him. There was no doubt. He absolutely had to escape now. He sped up, hoping the axeman wouldn’t be able to keep up. Unfortunately, the large man had more stamina than Artien thought. Thus, the chase continued.

After an hour, Artien felt tired. He couldn’t use force. The multiple, consecutive uses had injured his arm again. Though not as bad as before, his arm’s nerves screamed whenever he tried to use it. He gave up on using force. He cycled what mana he had left, feeling the flame shrinking down to a small, tiny flicker.

He began using the breathing technique, drawing mana from the air. It wasn’t enough to recover what he lost or replace what he used, but it was enough, just barely, to keep going. His speed slowly was lost. He ran for hours, the axeman eventually closing the distance.

The sun was low in the sky to the west, finally setting. It was at this time that Artien noticed a major change in the forest. It had grown quiet. There were no longer random beasts coming from ahead. Instead, the faint tremors had grown in strength.

The further ahead he ran, the stronger the tremors. He was coming close to something huge. The ground was shaking so hard that the sturdy trees trembled. The trees began to thin. He didn’t look behind him for the mercenary. The angry roars and curses told his location.

The light in the forest brightened and he ran out to the edge of a vast field of grass. He gasped for air, his legs trembling not from the tremors, but the loss of energy. They were turning numb. Even so, he stumbled on. By now his mana was completely gone.

A few seconds later, the mercenary broke the tree line, his face red in rage. “I’m going to kill you!”

Artien moved along the tree-line, the words spurring him on. He rounded a bend of a hill of green and came upon the source of the tremors. He stopped, his mouth gaping at the sight.

Several places in the earth were gouged. Long scars riddled the sides of hills. Spots of grass were wilted and sizzling with purple liquid, the soil underneath blackened. The earth shook violently as two mighty beasts collided. One, a huge white ape. The other, a green-colored snake with a crown of rainbow-hued feathers.

Both were double the size of the hills around them. The ape was at least twenty feet tall. The snake was slightly higher when curled up, ready to launch another attack. Both sides faced each other, waiting to make another move. Multiple wounds layered both beasts, leaving them stained with blood.

Artien laughed dryly to himself. He had traded certain death by wolves with certain death by the kings of beasts. His luck was definitely not with him today. Artien glanced back, seeing the mercenary almost upon him. Definitely out of luck.

He moved around the beasts, going unnoticed by them. His whole body shook with exhaustion. With the lack of food, water, and proper rest, he was too tired. His foot slipped in the grass, and he fell. He scrambled back up feebly.

Before he could stand, a strong hand grasped his clothes. He was pulled up to face the mercenary. Artien instinctively grabs into the dirt, forcefully pulling roots, rocks and all up. In a last bid for his life, he throws everything into the axeman’s eyes. The axeman let him go, screaming as he pawed his face.

After a few seconds, the axeman looked at him with bloodshot eyes. He let out a low growl and threw his axe down. With arched fingers, the axeman grabbed Artien’s arms. Artien could feel the heat in the axeman’s hands, evidence he too could use force. Shocked, Artien recalled a very similar feeling.

Hadn’t this happened before? What did he do then? It will work just like last time. He just had to do the same thing.

Artien pulled on his mana source, feeling a different energy build up instead. His back heated up. The heat traveled from his back, to his limbs. He jabbed up with his knee, catching the mercenary at the side of his chest. A distinct crunch sounded as his foot indented the armor. A large boom sounded as both sides used force against the other.

The mercenary released him, grabbing his side. They stumbled apart. Artien knelt on the ground and gasped, completely spent. The mercenary coughed, blood leaving his mouth. The mercenary stared at the bloody grass before him, knowing the wound was fatal.

He looked up, seeing Artien trying to back away slowly while still facing him. This damned brat! He’ll kill him!

Artien watched helplessly while the mercenary limped closer. Though the wound was grave, Artien was sure he would die first. He looked hard at the ground, feeling tears. Why was it like this? What had he done? He grabbed at the dirt in frustration.

Suddenly, a tremor sounded as the white ape pounded towards them. What was this? Was he now going to be smashed to pulp and not even have an intact body left behind? Artien laughed to himself. “Who am I kidding? Beasts will eat my carcass anyway.”

Time slowed down. Artien raised his head, willing to meet his death head on. Instead of the ape, a metal-covered fist slammed into his face. A small amount of force snapped his head back. Pain lanced through is body. He saw red, then darkness. He fell, landing on the soft grass.

His body grew numb. The pain faded. He felt only a slight chill. It was hard to breathe. Was this dying?

There was a human scream. One of the beasts got the axeman. The sharp sound of something rough on metal confirmed it. Artien felt something warm pour down on him. Is that blood?

The earth shook again, rocking his body. The ape screamed and he felt a large impact right next to him. Warm air blew across him as was picked up. The last thing he thought before he fainted; Ah, I’m going to be eaten.