Velgar roared, and brought his sword on m faster than lightning, slash after slash, relentless attacks. He slashed until my arm felt numb, deflecting the attacks. i dodged and tried retaliation but he was too strong.
He stabbed me in my stomach, slipping his sword between my ribs. I yelled.
Velgar’s bitter laugh pounded in my head like a stone banging against my bone, “Let it be known around all of Astrania! The Prince of Calarant dies by my hand, tell Saran his son is-”
Before Velgar could off my head, a large sword blocked the attack. Velgar stopped and turned my head, as did I.
The savior was a man. he had jet-black hair, soft blue eyes. his complexion was light, he wore a black cloak, silk garb and silver armor, in his hands he held a broad sword, the sword had no guard, it was huge enough to chop trees as efficiently as an axe. The blade gleamed silver, the man wore small silver earrings, he stared at Velgar quietly.
“Hey, kid,” the man said, “get your friends and get out! I’ve got things to settle with this guy, get outta here now! I’ll join with you guys later.”
“You,” Velgar said, and he gripped his sword harder, “How . . . amusing you show your face again! And much more that you think you can return with them after I’m done with you!”
Before I could hear more, Almar grabbed me and Aria and ran. More arrows fired past us, but Almar ducked and dragged us further.
The sun was beginning to sink lower, the sky was crimson, and I started to wonder about the mysterious man who saved me.
My feet were tired and we had stopped several miles away from the Kingdom of Uraemorn, heading northwest towards the Goblin Grotto.
“Let’s make camp here,” Almar said.
We stopped in the clearing and dropped our cumbersome backpacks. Aria took out some metal rods and staves. Working quickly she tossed a rope over a tree and pulled it down, knotting it to the stave she hammered it down. When she was done she displayed a large tent.
“Wow,” i said and as I was about to head inside, she stopped me.
“What are you doing,” she asked.
“Uh. . going in,” I said.
“This is mine,” she tossed me an accusing look, a smile played on her face, “make your own!”
I sighed then went to Almar, who worked as efficiently as Aria, as soon as he made the tent, he tossed his backpack inside with his sleeping bag.
“What no fire,” I asked.
“Fire makes smoke which will give us away,” Almar said knowingly.
YOU ARE READING
Dark Magic and Assassins of Akranhor (Book 2 of the Shadow Chronicles)Fantasy
The 2nd Installment to the Book 1 of the Shadow Chronicles. . . A new adventure writ in shadows, wielded by steel, and awaited in betrayal shakes Astrania once more. . . Pentus once again finds himself trapped in an inevitable war between the Emp...