OathBlade (Wattys2015)

46. Overwhelmed*

All thought of argument fled as the group poured from the training hall. Elery belted out orders as they ran. "Strong casters, up to the tower! Prepare your strongest casts and try to keep the dragons at bay. Bladesmen to the doors, prepare to keep the enemy out. If Loix's loyalists become a hindrance, add them to the body count. Vydel, do as you intend. Whatever becomes of you, I wish you well on your way."

"And the same to you, Princess." The woman held up one clawed, scaled hand and split from the group. Her short tail bobbed behind her with each step.

They approached the front and the doors buckled inward. The knights rushed forward, jostling her in their haste.

She ached to rest her hand on her sword, but a sword in a weak grip would do no good to anyone.

Isandel stepped forward as Dakkan stood at her side. The doors bulged inward again. A flash of gray scales showed through the momentary gap in the doors. The dragon outside roared. It was a terrible sound that rung down the halls, shaking loose stone bits from the walls.

Again the doors pushed in and part of the hinges snapped. Bolts and a scrap of metal flew inward before they collapsed with a deafening clang.

The moment Elery could see the assaulting-dragon's head she focused her aura on the minute sparks of static clinging to its scales. With a rough yet controlled pulse she fed the spark to ignite the loose debris clinging to the creature's body.

The dragon jerked back, giving her a better view of its half-rotted hide. Black innards were visible through gaping holes in the flesh and scales, leaving her to wonder how Celestine truly imagined her world.

She shook the idle contemplation from her mind and turned her attention to the swarm of corpse knights rushing the opening. As the dragon burned, emitting a foul stench that turned the stomachs of those victim to it, dead knights poured through the door with weapons in hand.

Dakkan leaped forward, rending through rotten flesh with vicious swipes of his long claws. Isandel joined the fray as well. His hands and arms regained their draconic appearance. The enemy's blades scraped against the new, gleaming scales covering his clawed hands before his nails found their way into their armor and the soft tissue of their throats.

Elery stepped back and focused her aura into the floor. It seeped through the cracks in each stone, seeking out small seeds tracked in by the knights. Seeds, she'd come to realize, were everywhere. Even in the most unlikely places she could feel them calling out for nourishment.

But those she found were of no help. They were various flowers, small sprigs, no vines or large plants which could be harnessed to snare enemies. Those which could be of help were beyond the door. It was to these seeds she offered up her aura, feeding it to the small seedlings quivering with indescribable eagerness within their shells.

The vines burst forth and she drew her aura up to guide their growth. The plants grew thick—thicker than they might if left to their own nature. They snared the dead and began pulling many of them back.

She sought out more, creating a thick weave of vines across the broken wall. It would not last long. The tender flesh of foliage would not hold against claw, tooth, or sword. But the delay allowed her allies to disable those who'd breached the door.

Snared knights trapped within the vine lattice stared inward at them through emotionless, dead eyes. If the vines were to be cut, at least it would rid them of a few more enemies in the process.

As the last corpse fell, silence descended in the hall. The large space, full of blood and dismembered bodies, seemed large enough for Isandel to transform if need called for it.