Water's Reflection or Hero's Guilt

Chapter Thirty

          Terrance stood on the beach, panting. In front of him were the Mage's soldiers. Behind him, the Royal Mage himself. He too, had to catch his breath after their swim. When he did, he muttered, “If you come peacefully, you won't be harmed.”

          The werewolf looked up and down the knights. They were ready for a fight. Two of them had their weapons drawn. The third—Sir Byzantine—carried Roy's red cape and his silver sword. The two magicians too, were ready for a brawl. He was not. He had tried to outsmart them, but sadly, it left him without breath and little more. He sighed. “Did you bring a cage, like last time? Or did you think that too dramatic?”

          The Royal Mage did not answer, but walked up to him, through the wet sand. As the waves crashed on shore, water washed over his feet. He didn't care; he was already drenched. He cared only about Terrance. He finally caught him. He could not help but permit himself a smug grin. The werewolf that had outsmarted him time and time again, finally at his mercy! But in his moment of victory, the Royal Mage did not pay attention to the beach, nor the enemies that came upon them.

          A sharp clang of metal upon metal sounded when a throwing knife hit Byzantine in the shoulder and bounced off his armor. He turned around quickly—as did the others—and a sudden cloud of smoke descended upon their group.

          “No, no!” the Mage shouted and immediately lunged for Terrance, now unable to see him or anyone else in the blinding mist. He fell and his hands clamped around the wet sand where Terrance had stood only moments ago. The knights ran out of the fog to see their attackers: they were June Bailey and Adam Clay, both armed with knifes, Lupine and Maya, whose hands swirled in circular gestures to fuel her spell. Before they were able to respond to them though, Terrance jumped from out of the smoke, past them, running through the sand towards his allies.

          “Terrance!” June cried. Sir Decker and Sir Toughmace immediately went into pursuit, followed by Sir Byzantine and Mage Whitesands. Adam's hand shot out and another knife flashed through the air, missing Edward Decker's head by only a few inches.

          As soon as Terrance reached the others, Maya quit her spell. Grinning as they turned around, Adam said, “We figured something was going on when we saw those knights running through the streets.” Terrance did not answer; he did not have the breath to. It was difficult for him to keep running through the dry sand. Fortunately, the knights did not fare much better. Their heavy armor caused them to sink away in the sand with every step they took. However, both Mage Whitesands and the Royal Mage were gaining on them. Adam grabbed Terrance's shoulder pulled him as they ran, nearly dragged him over the beach. Lupine barked, perhaps in anger or excitement. They were getting away!

          But the Royal Mage was not that easily defeated: he sprinted, adrenaline rushing through his body, and quickly overtook his knights. “Terrance!” he yelled in pure rage as a flame sparked in his hand. It grew to the size of a melon in a split second—and after he threw it, grew even larger. A ball of flame as big as a cartwheel scorched the dry sand right behind them; Adam and Terrance felt the burning heat on their heels, but they kept walking. The Mage cried out in frustration and gathered his strength. He stopped running, planted both his feet firmly into the sand, and raised both his hands above his head as a fire started above him. It expanded to beyond his hands, out of his hands and raging like an inferno. “TERRANCE!” he yelled once again, and this time, Terrance stopped. He turned around to look, alarmed by his enemy's fearsome roar.