the seas are alive,
and they are raging with monsters, old sport.
| based on the voyage of the dawn treader |
| BOOK TWO OF THE KING IN DISTRESS DUOLOGY |
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2827 BGA, The Dark Ages
THE ELVES CAME at the height of the moon, plunging the camp in a chilling trepidation. With sword in hand, Jamie marched out her tent, a simmering wroth rising within her. She almost hated herself for being unable to anticipate that their enemies would dare attack them in the dead of night, of course they would. Outside, the war gryphons took to the skies, archers taking their posts on the steep rocks, and everyone rallied to attack, but the elves were stealthy, and they moved under the cloak of the shadows.
"Your majesty!" Icaraeus came rushing towards her, hand gripping his bow. "It's the royal adviser, he's veiling them using winter kri'i so we wouldn't see them in the dark."
"Is your father here?" Jamie's gaze upon him was scorching, features tight with strain.
"I don't think so." Answered the elf.
"Of course, he must not be that stupid." Jamie muttered to herself, before whipping around to slash her sword across the air, and surely enough, an elf was unveiled from the shadows, and fell to the ground. "Go. Help the others. I'll be fine." Icaraeus nodded curtly at her instruction, setting off for the rocks to get an overview of the camp.
Jamie had been a whirl of silver and steel, using her senses to discern if an elf was approaching to attack her. She would know in the sound of the grass where they ran, the intakes of breath, and the subtle melody of their knifes against the rush of the wind as they would create momentum to strike. A stab to the stomach, a twirl of her blade, and a strike across their neck, heads rolled in an instant.
Verzimir drenched them in dragonflame, his molten black wings beating on the atmosphere. Gryphons swooped down on the elves, snatching them and ripping them with their talons. The archers rained arrows on them, targets hit. But they only kept coming, and coming, without fail.
Taken by surprise, something grabbed her from behind, but Jamie quickly elbowed her attacker, unsheathing her dagger with her free hand and sliced him across the throat. His blood stained the ground soon after. But it didn't end there, as someone shoved Jamie onto the grass, forcing her to be knocked forward. The second attacker did not live long enough to harm her once more, for when she whipped around to retaliate, he fell dead, Zhev standing before him. She released a breath, as the prince helped her stand up, returning her sword to her.
Then, the ground rumbled, roots shooting out of the soil and wrapping around the two. It coiled around their bodies, tightening, until Jamie lost grip of her sword, ribs squeezed and lungs slowly asphyxiated. An elf stood below them, his arms spread out maneuvering the roots. Jamie heaved, no sound escaping her lips. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, and she couldn't reach into her pocket to make use of the pendant. She hit at the root, with all her might, but her movements slowed, head hurting . . .
