Eros

Hail to the King - 4

Half a dozen soldiers laid dead, entangled in the roots that pierced into their flesh. The rest advanced slowly, constantly cutting at the roots Alora lashed at them. She wrapped four at the archer, crumpling him down to the ground and crushing his ribs. At every opening presented, she unearthed more of the thorns, overwhelming and butchering one of the soldiers.

Over the rapid, ceaseless movements of her own hands, Alora saw her brother facing the first soldier to reach them. He deflected the soldier's sword aside before sliding a curved blade across his throat, adding another fresh gallon to the blood soaked earth.

She fluttered and twisted her fingers as two more men came at him. Her roots coiled up the legs of one, binding him in place while Eldridge traded blows with the other. He feinted towards the soldier's chest and jabbed into his sword bearing arm. The soldier dropped his weapon and ran, clutching onto a bleeding wound.

Eldridge stepped to the soldier struggling with her roots, his sword raised to cut him down. She caught a flashing light at the corner of her eye, and looked to see a fireball massive as a boulder seething through the air. It shot straight to Eldridge.

"Eldridge!" Alora screamed, eyes tearing wide with terror. The fireball clashed into her brother with a bright roar. Heat waved over her as the explosion unleashed the flames within, engulfing her brother and throwing him to the ground. He groaned, and rolled in the dirt. But the flames clung to him with a vengeance, determined to consume him.

He stretched an arm towards her, and despite the flames tingling all the way along it, his shaking fist still clenched the hilt of his sword. Something tore inside of her when she met his eyes through the fires charring his face.

"He-help me..." He howled without breath. "Sister..." The agony widened his eyes into unnatural proportions and distorted his voice into a high, sickening pitch.

"Sister..!" He grasped onto the ground, whatever strength he had left put in a vain attempt to crawl towards her.

"Sister..." His voice broke into a cry of despair.

"Help me..." His lips mouthed the words without voice as he collapsed.

Alora trembled as her gaze rose from the smoldering corpse of her brother to the magus who gazed back upon her. He was old: a white beard pointed his chin, and wrinkles ran deep along his sharp features and bald scalp. Massive claw marks sliced deep scars across half of his face.

An outcry of rage erupted from her chest, and she threw her hands towards him, fingers jabbing. All of the roots lurched from the soldiers and towards a single target – her brother's killer. The magus stood still, watching. The roots stretched from the ground and flew towards him. Alora's mind went wild with vengeance. She could already see her roots entangling his limbs and tearing his body piece from piece.

She felt a pommel slamming against her temple, and her roots dropped from the air. Blood, wet and warm, tickled her face as she lost balance. Darkness crept to the corners of her blurred vision. Pain shot through her arm as it was twisted, forcing her down to the earth. She fell to her knees, and by strength of will alone managed to find the magus and throw her free hand towards him. Few of the roots that fell to stillness rose again, whipping towards the magus.

He frowned at her, as if disappointed, and flicked up a hand. Fire combusted before him and sprayed onto her roots. They consumed them in bright flames, and the roots fell ash and coals at the magus's feet.

Her second arm got grabbed, folded painfully behind her. One of the soldiers grasped her hair and pushed her face into the ground. She tasted the dirt, and out the corner of her dazed vision, saw the burning huts and littered corpses of her tribe. Tears coated her eyes, and mixed with her blood as they trickled down her cheeks.

"How many prisoners did we take?" The magus asked.

"Nine, Lord Raul."

"Good. Round it up with this one." Raul ordered, walking away.