The War of Gods

Chapter 5 - Part 5

Nerith was the first one up the hill, despite being the only one in skirts.

"Firebolt!" She shouted. A small ball of fire erupted from her hand and clashed into a hooded figure, throwing it off balance and preventing it from releasing that arrow into Joel's back.

"Thanks." Joel said quickly as he joined Nerith at the end of the climb. Funny how quickly you patch things up with someone once faced with the possibility of death.

Stormbloods kept piling up outside, pouring out the door like bees whose nest had been disturbed. There had to be more than ten of them already. Nerith had expected them to be humans and elves, maybe some half-bloods too, but there were quite a few odd ones amongst their ranks. Two large bugbears stood out as they climbed after them, with maces raised above their heads. She caught sight of a small goblin sheepishly hiding behind one of the pyres as well.

She caused a slight rock fall with another Earth Tremor as Mavar passed by her and tapped her shoulder. She turned away and bolted straight back into the forest. What a complete failure of a mission. Ruined by Nerith herself.

Again.

They ran until their legs gave out. Nerith leaned her back against a tree and allowed herself to slide down, sitting against the tree trunk.

"Well," Mavar said, while catching his breath. "There goes our bounty."

"I'm... sorry." Nerith said, barely a whisper.

"Don't sweat it, partner!" Joel said energetically. Somehow. "I needed the workout anyway."

Nerith grinned.

Meadows above, you truly couldn't hate the little guy. And now she hated herself even more for her outburst. She wasn't some spoiled child, who needed constant validation. Her recent failures were no one's fault but her own, and lashing at her squadmates would only drive nails into her heart in due time. If Professor McMagus saw her now... She could practically hear the lecture in her-

Nerith barely had time to look up before a hooded figure, already on top of Mavar, raised a club above their head.

"No!" Nerith yelled.

Mavar protected his face with his arms as the club came down, making a sickening crunch as it connected. Nerith got up as Mavar screamed, only to feel an arrow sink into her shoulder from behind. She almost dropped to her knees, but instead forced herself to turn around and meet her attackers. A single bandit stood on the Path of Sorrows, knocking another arrow. She prepared herself to attack and winced as pain flared from her shoulder. Joel ran up behind her and placed his hands on the wound.

"I got you, partner." He said. "Focus on that dung-eater."

As he spoke, Nerith could feel his magic infusing her, Curing her Wounds.

"Firebolt!" She cast. But the bandit dodged easily. She was too far. She was too weak. She was useless.

Again.

The bandit drew his bowstring.

"Nerith?" Joel asked.

Right. Move.

"Help Mavar." She said.

"Right, yeah, I can do that. What about- Hey!" He shouted after her, but she was already on the move. Time to try another tactic.

She almost tripped herself onto the floor as she dodged the next arrow but she kept moving. She couldn't let that bandit knock another arrow. She heard an unfamiliar grunt behind her and hoped that was a good thing.

Remember, class. She recalled Professor McMagus' lecture. Don't let your emotions cloud your judgment in the midst of battle. Your hearts will betray you as much as any spy on the battlefield. Survive first, live later.

Heat began bathing her fingers as she focused her magic onto the palm of her hands. Surprised, the bandit clumsily tried to draw a long knife but it was too late, Nerith was upon him.

And she was tired of feeling useless.

"Burning Hands!"