The War of Gods

Chapter 4 - Part 3

For a moment, time seemed to stop, and it was only her and the man. She couldn't move, as her body adjusted to the pain. Just like that one time in Tarlu. How many times will I be caught in these moments? she thought.

"Burning... hands" she managed to whisper out.

The man's cloak turned a bright red as it burned away, followed by his skin. A sharp scream came from the previously grinning mouth as his eyes looked down in horror. The scream was quickly cut off as Nerith's flames melted away at the thug's lungs and he fell on his back, eyes open, breath gone. Dead.

Nerith's breath quickened as she stared at the body in front of her, stuck in a time loop where only her and the man existed. The sound of the birds seemed to quiet down. It was as if she was under water. The battle cries of her comrades-

Battle cries. Mavar and Joel.

Movemovemove.

She looked around her and saw Joel on a close-quarters combat with one of the thugs.

Not good, she thought. She began moving to help but a jolt ran through her stomach as she felt the dagger still biting at the insides. She hadn't even felt it until now. What did Professor Minerta say? "Lodged in? Leave it in"? Right now, that sounded very stupid, but she'd let her rational side take over for a bit.

Joel, right. She'd have to help from afar. She began forming a firebolt but stopped herself, scared she could hit Joel by accident. Joel's thug was considerably bigger than him. What could she do? She began going through her spell arsenal in her head. He was on top of Joel now. Think, Nerith, think. She grabbed her own dagger and made a pathetic attempt at a knife throw. He was choking Joel now. Her vision was getting blurry now. It was getting harder to think. He was pulling a dagger up now. Voices began filling her head. Voices.

Voices.

She had an idea.

"Minor Illusion," she whispered.

Nerith fell to her knees, her stomach throbbing. But the thug began looking around him, as if there was something there. Joel seized the opportunity, and a green cloud enveloped the bandit. He was puking his guts seconds later which left his neck open to Joel's staff.

Nerith let herself lie on the ground, face against the soft Szofian grass. She could now see Mavar on the path. What was he doing? Another bandit was in front of him, but Mavar simply stood still, while the assailant clawed at his own head, as if a throbbing headache suddenly hit him. Nerith wanted to see what would happen.

But her eyes felt so heavy.