The ground was damp, drops of rainwater glittering like diamonds in the pale moonlight. The warlock looked grim, his eyes narrowing as his fingertips began to glow with magic, stooping as he inspected the sight before him. The great ghostwood tree stood tall and strong, it's deep violet leaves gleaming with their own inner light. He muttered some words underneath his breath, commanding, and firm. The air in front of him rippled as the shield held. He muttered the command once more, pointing his hand in a three-clawed gesture towards the crest of the trees great roots. The shield materialized in a veil of shadowy light. There was a sharp crack as the illusion shattered. The warlock stood, satisfied as a great opening was revealed, the roots curling around its edges like a natural archway. The dark influence, as he confirmed, came from it, the source probably deep underground. Taking a deep breath, his finger glowed brighter as he slowly descended into the darkness below, his heart beating as if to leap from his chest.
***
The wyverns roared once more, deafening cries of rage barely drowning out the roar of the crowd. This is insane! I thought to myself, barely dodging aside as another pillar smashed to the ground, cracking into multiple segments. I saw one of the competitors rose up in the air, his eyes closed in concentration as he threw his hands outwards, fingers splayed. A bolt of lightning sliced down from the sky, penetrating the thin crust of the arena floor, blasting a great hole that led into darkness. He curled his fingers, and more lightning fired themselves into the hole in rapid succession. He threw his hands up, and fire burst from the hole like an infernal geyser of flame. Another roar, this one of rage and anger, whatever this guy was doing, he just made the beasts held beneath even angrier.
An ear-splitting crack sounded beneath my feet, giving me a narrow warning as I dove to the side, smashing my shoulder against a crumbling brick wall. The ground broke apart like confetti as a great shadow rose from it, enormous head the size of a London taxicab rising up, it's tattered wings stirring up a blast of wind that knocked me backward. It rose in the air, angry yellow eyes alert and predatorial, looking for a target.
The poor guy didn't even have a chance to scream before the wyvern torched him in the face. His burnt body went down like a fallen angel, exploding into a shower of gold dust as he died. Then the wyvern turned to look at me, its' mouth twisted into a very ugly shape until it realized it was smiling. Gotcha. The smile seemed to say, its mouth opened, a blast of the same green flame roared towards me. RUN! My mind screamed, but my body refused to respond, my legs rooted the spot, my nerves paralyzed by fear.
The flames never reached me. A figure, one of the competitors, leaped in front of me, his double-bladed glaive gleaming with a black light that streamed from his firm grip, shrouded in an indigo aura. The flames crashed against a barrier of what appeared to be a dome of smooth black glass, rippling like water as the flames parted in contact with its' surface. With a running jump, the figure swept his weapon, slicing one of its' heads clean off. Dodging the snapping jaws of the beast, heads fell one by one, acid green blood showered upon me like rain, the lithe figure leaping from one stump to another, landing on his feet in front of me as the headless bulk of the beast collapsed with a jarring thud. Revulsion gripped my stomach, making me double over, retching in an attempt to clear the sickening feeling in my gut.
'Illegal combatant! Illegal combatant!' A reedy voice screeched above as an ice cold arm hoisted me upwards, and I lifted my eyes only to meet James's, the shadows of his hood casting shadows over his intense amber eyes. Fluorescent green blood splattered his face, and his usual shyness was gone, replaced with a cold, attentive alertness. Without turning his head, he sliced upwards, disemboweling a flying creature with a fleshy squelch, the blade cleaving effortlessly through bones and meat, the mangled remains of the creature landing with a revolting splat few feet away. Terror gripped my heart as his eyes locked with mine.
YOU ARE READING
The Secret Service: The Wings of Titania
FantasyWhen people think of the Secret Service, one word come to mind---spies. But nobody knows there is another Secret Service, one that operates from the shadows, consisting of four elite members. Each possessing unique abilities of their own, they are s...
