My pulse races, each beat thundering in my ears, as I stare at the menacing figure before me. The air around us feels charged, heavy with a sense of impending doom. Each imposing word spoken by this agent of the Eye in the Flame drips with malice, and the menacing, fiery glow in his eyes sends a shiver to every bone in my body. The shaman, Tlalqo steps back, a look of alarm etched on his face. My hand tightens around the amulets, their cool surface contrasts with the warmth flooding through my veins. I can't let them fall into this cultist's hands. I mustn't.
The sorcerer takes a casual step forward, his eyes locked onto the amulets secured in my gripping fist. "Hand them over, child, and perhaps I'll be merciful," he taunts, a wicked grin spreads slowly across his face.
Running isn't an option, and fighting seems suicidal. Yet surrendering the amulets would mean disaster. My mind races, searching for a way out, but the sorcerer's advancing presence leaves little room for thought.
"Stay behind me, Tlalqo," I mutter, my voice steady despite the fear clawing at my insides. I must protect these relics, protect the shaman, protect the village. Though I know I must utilize my gift from Iaqa, can it stand against the dark might of this sorcerer?
"Brave deeds from such a feeble, young girl," he mocks with a sinister laugh to punctuate his barb. "Let's see if you're as courageous as you believe yourself to be."
Gathering every fiber of my resolve, I tighten my fists, my knuckles whitening. I fix my fierce gaze onto the red-robed man, representative of the evil that threatens the very heart of Qespina, Qiapu, and possibly all of Pachil. I stand unwavering, a solitary guardian against the shadow. I cannot—I will not—falter.
Within a couple beats of the heart, the figure's twisted hands glow as if they've become two large torches, burning brightly. Flashbacks to the assault on Pichaqta course through my mind, and, in moments, I leap for Tlalqo, tackling him to the ground as two balls of fire hastily speed over us. Hurrying to my feet, I grab Tlalqo by his shoulders and lift him up, pulling him away from where we lay.
From behind us, I hear a loud whoosh followed by a thudding collision with the ground. Glancing behind me, I gasp at the sight of a large, black, burnt patch of soil that replaced where the shaman and I once stood, smoldering with the stench of charred, smokey grass.
I swivel my head right to left as I seek some type of protection against this madman's attacks. Yet the site offers very little in the way of cover, being mostly an open field littered with flowers, their bright and cheerful colors contrasting with the violence we're encountering. There is only one location that offers modest sanctuary in this sacred place: a mound of loose rocks, organized and piled neatly and surrounded by similar, smaller piles, appearing to be some sort of shrine or idol for worship. It will require a long, vulnerable sprint to reach it, but we must be better off there than where we are now.
"We'll need to run to those rocks," I tell Tlalqo, pointing to the destination, "and with haste, as we'll be dangerously exposed. Can you make it?" He nods in short, nervous jerks, casting his gaze upon the rock pile.
I wait for the robed man's hands to glow again as he casually walks toward us, a predator playing with its meal. Just as he brings his hands up and launches more balls of fire, I take the shaman's hand and pull him with me, running as hard as I can toward the rock pile. The flames whizz past us and sail into the distance, but we're already hurrying as fast as our legs will take us toward our refuge.
Tlalqo trips on the soil and stumbles. I quickly catch him, and the shaman rests for a moment on a single knee. In my mind amidst a brief panic, I'm urging him to get up. After a slight struggle, he uses me as leverage to stand up, and glances back at our attacker. From the corner of my eye, a large, orange light flashes brightly, and I anticipate yet another pair of flaming projectiles will soon come our way. I shout something incoherent as I yank Tlalqo and pull us back on course for the rocks. The heat of the flying fireballs singes the air around me, searing my senses as we dodge and weave.
YOU ARE READING
Revolutions
FantasyAt long last, the oppressive rule of the titans has ended. We are finally free, thanks to the sacrifice of The Eleven, who unified a fractured land and used their supernatural powers to defeat the Timuaq. There are many like myself who have only kno...
