The Elf King

They came like a nightmare. Takers blanketed the Shyl Plains like a sheet of darkness sent to smother the living. Thousands of soulless figures draped in tattered cloaks lumbered towards the eastern edge of the Lyyn Forest. Red eyes spread across the grassy field like twinkling fires of which water could not extinguish. They came in a swarm that disappeared in the darkness at each end of the horizon. Their number too great to count. Their purpose too reckless to withstand.

  Even from their distance now, Elves and Men alike could hear their groaning. Deep wails filled the night as the Takers howled in delight, their pursuit coming to an end, their prey within sight, and soon within reach.

  “Tell your men to wait for our signal,” Terill Estrial said to Ern Dwull, who nodded then went off to spread the message.

  Terill stood at the front with Ankar Rie next to him. Lines of bowmen stood behind them, a mix of Elves and Men together, standing in front of the swordsmen. They all stood anxiously awaiting the confrontation, watching their enemy slowly advancing for the past few hours. The sun had dropped below the horizon hours ago, and the approaching mass of demons only made the night grow that much darker. Clouds filled the sky overhead, blotching out any trace of the stars beyond. No fires were lit. The only visible light were the red eyes ahead of them. The two armies stood watching the advancing threat drawing closer, waiting for the inevitable.

  “I hope this works,” Ankar Rie said softly to Lord Estrial.

  “Many things will rely on hope this night.”

  Terill stood looking at the demons coming for a moment longer, then turned to see Dornawee. The elderly elf stood with his arms skyward, projecting an image of the Lyyn Forest covering their army. Men and Elves would appear as trees and brush to the enemy, Dornawee had said. An illusion that would last long enough to confuse the Takers. Once they were in their midst, the ambush would be revealed.

  “They cannot see us,” Dornawee said. “But they know we are here. They can smell the magic. Once they are here, be careful.”

  Two elves approached. Terill Estrial turned to face them. “Kateel, Ree, are you ready?”

  “My Lord, we will meet you in their midst.” Ree said. Kateel nodded. They were dressed head to toe in camouflage. Their belts held several knives and small pouches. Long bows in hand and a quiver full of arrows slung over a shoulder.

  “Kateel, take your men and flank the east. Ree, the west. May your arrows be on their mark.” Terill gave them each a firm handshake, then watched them separate, each taking a large number of elves with them.

  “Ern?” Terill called out.

  Ern Dwull walked over to Terill. He wore a hooded chain-mail vest with matching gloves. “The men of Cillitran are ready.”

  “The demons will be flanked to the east and west, we will attack head on. Catapults and burst charges first, then arrows once they regroup and attack. Dorn will keep the mirage, but once they reach us, it will not matter. They can smell magic. They will know where we are regardless. We need to be poised and swift. We cannot let them advance into the Lyyn.”

  Ankar howled. “So let it begin!”

  Ern Dwull disappeared back through the lines of bowmen, of Men and Elves alike, hundreds standing at the front, bows notched with arrows, fingers squeezing them snug against the strings. He moved back past the series of swordsmen, hundreds more with battle armor and swords ready, anxious to begin what they all knew was going to be the end. Ern reached the catapults, all stationed ready to launch, and handed the operators small crystal pieces that the Elves had given him. They would explode like nothing they had ever witnessed, Dornawee had told him. Use one per launch, Ern directed his men. Once finished, and all his men were ready, Ern returned back to the front to stand with Ankar Rie again, nodding to Terill that all was set.

  Ern Dwull squeezed the pommel of his broadsword as tight as he could. He was nervous. He could see the enemy almost a hundred yards away. It was hard to calm his nerves, but once he was able to swing his sword, things would be better. “Let their blood fall like rain to flood the Shyl!”

  “Let it be so now!” Terill turned back to face the army behind him. “Fire!”

  Instantly the groaning of dozens of catapults launching filled the silence in a thunderous wave. Their volleys sped overhead, lost in the darkness of the pitch clouds, their roar shooting out across the vast Plains out of sight. A second volley launched just as quick, unseen to even the army standing twenty yards away. Men and Elves stood looking across the span of the grassy field, anxious to see the first set reach their mark. Seconds later, the dark horizon erupted in giant explosions. One after another, massive fireballs shattered the midst of the unaware, sending lighted shockwaves spreading across the Plains. Holes disintegrated into the earth several feet deep and several acres wide, shredding through the night killing everything in a wide arch. The Takers in the front were wiped clean of existence. Hundreds turned to ash instantly. Terror shrieked and screamed in agonizing wails then as Takers realized what was happening. The sounds were frightening, deafening.

  A roar swept into the night then, matching that of the demons, as Men and Elves rejoiced. Men scrambled around the catapults, quickly loading another volley, setting the burst charges in place, waiting for Ern’s command.

  “Again!” Ern screamed, raising his sword skyward into the dark.

  Takers were running then, charging ahead with madness beyond reason, searching for anything living. They were close enough now to sense the magic. Aware as well of the whistling of the incoming burst charges raining down to destroy them. They pressed on harder then, pushing to breech the gap, to close the distance of the attack, to escape the blasts as the air above them began streaking with that familiar whistling. Suddenly the earth exploded in their midst again. Hundreds pressed on without looking back. The rest found paths around the deep impressions in the ground, running frantically.

  “They’re coming!” Ankar Rie shouted, preparing himself for the attack.

  Ern Dwull stood next to him, his sword raised, his breathing already ragged. “I have something for them, from the King!”

  Far to the east and west bright flickers of light sparked in quick eruptions as the Elves on the flanks unleashed their assault. Tremors raced back all the way to Terill, as the edges of the horizon became a war zone. Hundreds of lights flickered and died quickly, the screams spilling into the air across the Plains in terrible waves. The Takers were under attack from all sides now, and those closest to the Lyyn Forest raced frantically for it, to destroy the Elves hiding within its cover.

  “Steady yourselves!” Dornawee called out. “They cannot see you yet!”

  “Wait for our signal!” Terill yelled to Dornawee.

  They stood motionless, watching the first wave of Takers charge towards them, listening to the nightmarish sounds spewing from their forsaken mouths. Takers moved in fast, angry and blood-thirsty. Growling and hissing they came in a frenzied rage.

  Then they slowed, and stopped altogether.

  Takers stood at the edge of the illusion. As they found themselves on the verge of entering the Lyyn Forest, they could feel the magic all around them. They could sense it in use. They could smell its sources close at hand. Though they saw only trees, they could sense that something else at play. Cautiously, they entered the forest, sniffing out the traces of magic.

  Ankar Rie swallowed hard standing next to Terill Estrial, both stood at the head of the armies. It took all that he had not to act on his instincts and invoke his magic as the fleet of demons arrived, several Takers stood beside him, passing by him slowly, some of them brushing into him, others hissing as they looked at him and around him, growling as they found no one.

  Ankar held firm and drew no unwanted attention. He thought for sure that they would be able to see his heart beating or hear his blood pumping. He took slow breaths through his slightly opened mouth, forcing himself to remain calm as Takers passed by, stalking through the forest as hunters moving to flush out their prey. Ankar avoided eye contact with t
he frightening monsters and kept Dornawee in sight, waiting for the signal.

  Dornawee stood motionless with a mass of Takers circling him. He held his breath. He had cast the last of his magic into the sky above the army seconds before the Takers had reached them, and now stood waiting for the illusion to fade. It would be a few moments, he knew. He had sent enough energy with it to ensure that it would remain long enough for the Takers to reach the swordsmen. But he questioned himself once the demons began sniffing alongside him. He second-guessed himself to the point where he almost acted impulsively. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and strike them before the mirage was up, before they had the chance to find him. His mind screamed to attack, his blood pumped so quickly that he was sure they could see his veins throbbing.

  Act! His senses told him.

  Now!

  But then the catapults began firing, drawing their attention away from him. A series of burst charges were sent into the sea of shifting bodies, exploding in blue and white fire rings, destroying everything in their reach.

  Takers howled in pursuit, pushing quickly through the forest they saw, trying to locate the Elves. Once the catapults fired, they knew they were close. They moved around the trees and bushes in vain. High-pitched gasps and moans emitted from beneath their cowls as they searched. But they found nothing.

  The catapults fired again.

  As the last round of explosions shook the Plains, Takers were close enough now to notice the movements within the forest. They scrambled around, racing towards what they saw moving. A hundred of them now were in the forest, closing in on the catapults, seeing massive wood-framed carts launching just beyond some trees. They would be on them in seconds. They would rip to shreds anyone found.

  The mirage began to fade then. Within seconds, it was gone.

  Takers froze with confused uncertainty.

  The attack began.

  Instantly the Shyl Plains roared with dying screams as swords and knives swept through the closest Takers, catching them by surprise, striking them with blows that sliced through cloak and bone alike. Terill Estrial threw his hands skyward, sending dozens of the blackest nightmares ripping from their hosts, burning to ash, bodies falling in smoking husks.

  Ankar Rie and Dornawee shot their magic in lightning bolts and fire rings, evaporating Takers that were within arm’s reach, moving so fast that the Takers had not time to use their own magic. Other Elves with magic used it to burst through their enemy in sweeping motions, mowing down the demons as though they were paper figures. Swords were shining with the glow of the magic splurging around them. Arrows rained in a flaming hailstorm. Within in a few moments, Men and Elves were the only ones standing, as ash rained upon them.

  “Launch!” a man yelled seconds before the men stationed at the catapults were releasing the triggers, firing another volley.

  Arrows were sent skyward with burst charges as tips. The explosion of the charges swept through in wide circular patterns, decimating everything within twenty yards. More arrows shot skyward, hundreds more, shooting further back into the depths of their enemies as Takers scattered frantically. The horizon blew apart in blinding lights, one after another, shaking the ground and forever changing the landscape. Arrows rained down for several minutes, until Takers were no longer seen through the smoke and ash, no longer heard through the booming eruptions.

  The Forest Elves stopped firing. Men stood waiting. As the air settled, a sheet of darkness remained motionless a few hundred yards away, hissing with hatred.

  “They are staying out of range,” Ern Dwull stated to Ankar Rie. His sword was smeared with a black liquid, his face speckled with it.

  “They are smart to do so,” smiled Ankar Rie.

  “If they are smart enough not to continue their attack, then they may be smart enough to figure out a plan of assault.” Ern spit, wiping his face across his shoulder sleeve. “I would rather they be ignorant and run themselves into my blade.”

  Terill Estrial made his way over to stand with them. His face was angry. His fingers were still emitting a slight glow from his magic’s use. “If they will not come to us, then we will go to them. Push them back to the hole they crawled out of. We will close in on all sides and strangle any route for escape.”

  “Their sheer number would make that nearly impossible,” Ern frowned.

  Ankar Rie patted Ern on the shoulder. “Far too early to be counting us out.”

  Ern grunted his response far too low for them to hear. He sighed, looking away to the enemy lost in the dark.

  Dornawee hobbled his way over to them. His left foot was in obvious pain; his face winced with each step. “We will not have another chance to use a mirage. They know we’re here now. They know what to expect and what to look for.”

  Terill looked down to Dorn’s foot. “You need a medic.”

  Dornawee smiled in spite of him. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Those burst charges you gave us worked well.” Ern Dwull sent a nod of gratitude to the old elf. “What else do you have in store?”

  “Once the burst charges are gone, we have none. Even while attempting to create our talismans, the Dark Elves were stealing them, or the necessary ingredients used to make them. Now the only talisman we have travels north.”

  “What do you mean?” Ern Dwull felt like an outsider, watching the others nod as he stood oblivious.

  Dornawee looked out into the blackness as he began to answer. “We were able to create a talisman for the elf that travels to the Mrenx Ku. He will use it to destroy the origin of the demons. If the spirit is destroyed, if it can be as we hope, then the links from it will cease to exist. The horde will fall.”

  “So, there is hope after all.” Ern Dwull’s head began to nod as he smiled. The impossible did not seem so distant now. He felt as if a weight had been shifted; he felt comforted.

  “There is still the Issilix Delsoue.” Terill spoke, breaking the silence between them, as they each stared out across the blackness of the Shyl Plains. Small fires were scattered everywhere, but the real burning he knew lay in the monsters out of sight. “Shadox went to retrieve it. And its wielder. I’ve not heard from him since. But if the Ku was in search for it, if the Dark Elves knew of its existence…”

  “I don’t think it’s been found.” Ankar Rie looked to each of them. “If the spirit came here for it, then there’s still hope that we can discover it before the enemy does.”

  “It was here?” Lord Estrial’s face fixed with wonder. “It was the one who removed the shield then.”

  Ankar nodded. “I believe it came here thinking that we had the sword in our possession. It heads back to Cillitran now to keep searching. But I have people searching for it as well.”

  Ern Dwull turned his head away from the group, staring out across the open plain, losing thought in the darkness that threatened to swallow them all. As the warm wind blew gently across his sweaty face, his thoughts drifted to the Queen, as she was during their brief encounter in the castle’s tunnel, where she was searching for the sword.

  The demon, he corrected himself.

  The Queen had died sometime earlier. How and when, no one would know. Her dead corpse had been taken over by the spirit, posing as her, fooling them all. Even those close to her failed to see the monster beneath the skin.

  Beneath Lon’s skin.

  Ern’s stomach turned in a knot then. He wondered what had become of his friend. Had Lon called for help and no one came? Or did help come too late, and the change was not noticed?

  The thought made him sick. He ached in a way that he had never before hurt. Cold chills danced across his skin from his neck to his feet.

  Lon, I am sorry!

  Ern turned away so his tears would not be noticed. He had assumed Lon’s fate once he put the pieces together, once realizing why Lon had abandoned his duty and his men to go back to Cillitran, why Lon’s eyes were so cold, why Lon had smiled at him the way he had. It was the same cruel smile the Queen had given in the s
ecret tunnel. The same dead eyes. The same monster beneath the skin.

  “He will be avenged,” Ern promised.

  Ankar had been standing close enough to him to feel his thoughts without having to read the other’s mind. The troubled look Ern wore was laced with guilt and remorse. “You cannot blame yourself, Ern.”

  But he did. As his fingers squeezed hard around his sword’s handle, Ern Dwull forced away the tears still forming. “I have many deaths to avenge.”

  “You’ll have your chances,” Dornawee said. “The darkest night is here. Tomorrow is not promised to anyone.”

  They were quiet then. They stood with their army facing the north, facing the sheet of blackness lined up in the night’s gloom at the edge of what they could see. The night was quiet behind them. The Men and Elves stood prepared for another attack. An hour passed, still nothing. Men began to grumble quietly, anxiously, worriedly, nervous that something was happening that they could not see. Fears produced whispers then, as many began to worry that the enemy was circling them, that they would be trapped. Terill tried to quiet their worries, hushing along that his Elves had the enemy flanked on both sides, and if something were to happen to them, then his people would send a messenger along. For now, their enemy stood out in the darkness before them.

  As a second hour passed, Terill Estrial caught sight of something. He held one hand up over the horizon, one finger extending. “There.”

  Seconds later they saw it. A red line in the air, hovering over the Plains.

  “What is it?” Ern asked. He brought his sword up, ready to strike.

  No one answered. Then they realized it was moving.

  “It’s heading for us!” Ankar Rie shouted. “Shields!”

  The red light advanced quickly, streaming through the dark sky towards them, crisscross lines becoming visible now as it descended. Ankar Rie threw up his magic in a blue shield over himself and over most of the army around him. But it wasn’t enough.

  The red webbing landed over those exposed and shredded through them as though they were made of dust. Screams filled the Plains then, loud and terrible, as Men and Elf alike exploded. Hundreds of bodies separated into pieces. They panicked, looking to the sky to see another red beam cutting through the darkness, moving swiftly towards them.

  Terill and a few other Elves possessing magic threw up shields as well, protecting all that they could. But as the Taker’s fire-web seared onto the army, many were caught uncovered. Red beams sliced through skin and bone instantly, erupting bodies with the blink of an eye. Catapults were destroyed as well. Red magic tore through the large wooden beams without slowing, turning the gigantic machines into roaring fires that lit the Shyl Plains brightly.

  “Look!” Ern Dwull screamed, pointing to the east, then west. Blankets of red mesh shot over the Elves stationed there. Their screams were heard in echoing waves.

  “Kateel! Ree!” Terill yelled in fury, his hands coming to a smoldering glow.

  “We have to act!” Ankar Rie waited no further. He stood facing the black horizon and began to send his blue fire in smoldering bursts into the sky. Terill Estrial and Dornawee came to his side and joined in, unleashing their own fiery destruction through the air. As their assault reached the ground, the bursts ignited in glowing flames.

  The blasts lit the Shyl Plains in radiant showers. Bright enough for them to see the Takers crawling flat across the grassy field, much closer to them than they had realized.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO