Vuroth's Tear: Even the Gods Cry

Chapter 51

Chapter 51

Aven was groggy, barely conscious. He could feel the right side of his face was swollen and partially caved in. He tried to move his arms, pain surged up his left arm from its wounds. The pain seemed to clarify things for him, jolting him to full consciousness, that was when he realized he was being dragged. He lifted his head and saw the long thick tail of one of the creatures wrapped around him, binding his arms by his sides.

The tail squeezed, making Aven gasp from the pain of his arm and leg. His head bounced over rocks and branches beneath him, making the pain in his head grow more intense. He looked up at the blackness above, he could see stars twinkle between branches of the canopy of dead trees above. He wondered how long he had been unconscious, how far he had been dragged by the creatures.

Aven closed his eyes and concentrated through the pain, focusing on mending the bone and flesh of his wounds. He felt the magic spreading throughout his body, slowly working to heal the wounds inflicted by the creature that now carelessly dragged him. Finally, the pain began to subside and then it was gone, his arm, leg and even his face had been completely healed.

He felt completely drained, healing himself had strained and exhausted him much more than it did to heal another. He turned his head to look around, planning his escape. All he saw were trees and darkness, he had no idea where he was.

Magic was useless and he had no weapon so he needed to find something to fight with. Quicksilver was gone, he could sense it though and somehow he knew it was with Donovan. He wasn't sure how he knew but suspected it was due to his bond to the sword.

Aven felt a hint of panic, wondering if he could escape the creatures grasp and what could he do if he did? He couldn't fight them, not without a weapon, they were much too quick and deadly to fight empty handed. All he saw around him were branches and rocks, not much help there.

He thought of Chaston. Donovan's ring had protected him from Quinn's magic fire but the heat caused by that fire still burned him. That was it, that was the answer to killing the creatures. They were immune to magic but surely the effects caused by the magic could still affect them.

Aven fought the exhaustion and concentrated. The dead, dry trees burst into flame from the extreme heat that emanated from him. The dry leaves withered into ash. The creatures all stopped and the one holding Aven screeched and constricted him tighter. The beasts hissed and slammed their tails down in fury while they looked around, Aven was slapped with one of the tails but they couldn't break his concentration. The one holding him slammed him to the ground, knocking the wind from him but still he kept focused.

The beasts began letting out screeches of confusion and pain, quickly lifting their feet off the ground, dancing around as the ground got hotter and hotter under their feet until they began to sink. The ground started to glow and liquified under the creatures, their shrieks tore through the silence of the dead forest.

Aven was thrown aside as the one holding him fought to free itself. It wrapped the long tail around the nearby three but it crumbled apart, cooked to char from the intense heat. Aven rolled to his feet and barely dodged the angry swings of their tails until they sunk below the surface. The violent swings of the tails calmed, and finally the tails fell limp, splashing into the pit and sank below as well. Aven contained his magic and quickly the heat was gone, allowing the ground to cool, becoming solid rock once again.

Aven walked alone through the silent, dead forest. It felt strange to him not having Donovan to talk to, not having his sword in his hand. The forest was eerily silent, so quiet that he could hear his own heart beating in his chest.

As unsettling as the silence was, there was something peaceful about it as well. He was alone with his thoughts, unfortunately, the only thoughts he had were of Analda. As he walked, a tear would periodically drip down his cheek. He talked to her as if she walked next to him, apologizing as if she could hear his words. He missed her more than he thought possible, it was her memory that pushed him on when the odds were against him.

Every so often, his thoughts would be interrupted by the feeling of Quicksilver calling for him. He could feel its urgent pulls as if it longed for him, needing to be reunited with him. He had been following that pull, using that alone to dictate which direction he would travel.

Aven wanted to rest, he needed it. Using his magic had exhausted him, and he was already drained by the act of healing himself but he couldn't afford to stop now. His friends needed him, they wouldn't survive Travidon without him. He wasn't sure they could even with his fire but he knew without it there was no chance. They were approaching the capital city filled with an army of reanimated dead, controlled by a demonic tyrant. He needed his friends, he had lost enough in his life and if they were all going to die, he would rather die with them than bury them and try to carry on.

He felt something wash over him, a controlled fury that seemed to burn away his exhaustion. The flame on his arm spread to cover him completely and grew more intense, burning hotter and brighter as he started running in the direction of Quicksilver and his friends. The trees on either side of him whilted and charred as he passed, the dirt under foot melted with each step and left a strange trail of glass footsteps behind him. Aven knew that once he caught up with them, the battle determining the fate of the kingdom would soon follow.