Katerin was content with her quiet life of studying the arcane, and wanted for nothing in her life. She had friends, family, and plenty to do.
But life has a way of changing people--a way of pushing them to do things far outside their comfort and ex...
The surge of energy flowing through him like adrenaline, he lunged forward, thoughts no longer clouded by the pain in his legs. He drove his blade into the side of the ogre's leg, then yanked it free with renewed strength. The ogre faltered as it stepped toward him and crumpled to its knees as small crystal bolts bombarded the back of its head.
Fykes' blade flashed in a brilliant arc, before thrusting and driving up to its hilt in the stomach of the ogre. The monster tried to speak as blood dribbled down its chin, but it simply crumpled in front of him.
There was nothing to be joyous about as the first ogre died, for the second was in a rage now. It rushed forward, its footsteps shaking the ground and causing tiny pebbles to plummet from the cliffside.
*
Katerin was on her feet again, only able to stand thanks to a large jagged chunk of stone—the remnants of the boulder that had landed near her not but a few moments ago. The creature ran straight for her, and she closed her eyes as she placed her hands on her shoulders.
Her spell completed in a flash, and suddenly there were two of her. The image moved in tandem with her, flickering. The ogre grunted and slammed down with a foot as it reached her. She jumped away, tears clouding her vision from the pain and the panic. Her duplicate image was ripped from reality with a pop as Katerin hefted her staff and swung. Desperation pulled at her heart like a knife. There was too much pain, and she was by no means quick enough to fight this thing in the state she was in.
Her weapon slammed into the ogre but did nothing, other than shake the fat that wrapped its thighs. She would have cursed if she could have found her voice at that moment. Her magic was greatly limited without the ability to speak, so she reverted once again to the tiny unerring crystal missiles and sent them careening for the ogre's eyes.
The pain must have been terrible, because the ogre stumbled back and tripped over a boulder as it went, slamming down onto its head as it fell.
*
Fykes rushed around it, cutting a long jagged line down its leg as he went. "Are you okay?" he asked, but Katerin offered no answer, her face a mask of focus—already splintering. As he turned back to face the ogre, it was on its knees, hefting its tree club once again.
It bellowed and swept the tree out at both of them. Fykes grabbed Katerin's shoulders and pulled her down, doing his best to land beside her instead of crushing her. More pain became a reality as a broken branch scraped up his back as they fell.
Fykes pushed to his feet and darted for the creature, backing away from Katerin, who was still struggling to find her footing.
"In a second," he called, pausing to dodge the tree club swinging for his head. "I need you to get his attention, okay?" His voice carried like a beacon, and Katerin nodded to him in reply, tears staining the stone dust on her cheeks.
He continued darting backwards, drawing the creature toward the cliff face. Slashing not to injure but to prod. Finally, he waited for it to smash towards him, and as it did, he slashed out at the tendon of its ankle. As it bellowed, he called out to Katerin, and magic sparked through the air.
He had no time to see its effects, however, as he darted for an outcropping on the cliff face not far above the giant. He heard the ogre growling and saw the flashes of magic in the dim light of the setting sun. His thoughts spiraled. She'll keep its attention. She will.
In the time it took him to reach the outcropping, the ogre was back on its feet, facing away from him, attention locked on Katerin.
He pushed away the warnings his mind was giving him and leaped over the edge. His swords pointed out and angled up just the slightest bit. He slammed into the creature, and an overwhelming stench filled his nostrils—sweat, and something long rotten.
He missed his mark, his blades not coming near its throat.
Both his blades cut jagged lines down the creature, but neither was a killing blow. As he landed, his injured leg buckled with searing pain, and before he knew it, he was on his back, dizzy, with stars in his eyes.
*
Katerin lost her spell to her surprise, as Fykes leaped for the ogre, and her mouth hung open as he slammed into the creature. She regained her sense of thought as soon as he hit the ground, and coughed out a moan of agony.
The ogre had paused in pursuit of her, and now it was on its knees, hands grasping Fykes and lifting him up. Fykes coughed and choked, his pale porcelain skin turning a terrible shade. She steadied herself and drew the dagger from her belt, throwing it in an elegant handle-over-blade arc—directly into the creature's wrist.
It only tightened its grip and glared at her.
She stumbled forward, and choked out the words to her spell as a ball of frost materialized on her palm.
She tossed it toward the ogre's eye.
The solid chunk of ice slammed into the creature's nose, and frost snaked out from under its eyelids as it let out a sound comparable to a whimper. It violently shook its head, leaning over itself and dropping Fykes as it rubbed at its eye.
Katerin watched his whole body move as he gasped in a breath, and without hesitation, he drove his still glowing blade up through the throat of the ogre as it shook. It gave one last violent shudder, its arm sweeping out and slamming Fykes into the rocks, with savagery only to be found in a dying creature.
Katerin lunged forward and grabbed Fykes by the collar, pulling him from under the creature before it could crush him. As soon as the creature fell, she sank to her knees, gasping and shaking, fighting to find a breath.
Fykes blinked at her from his back, pain written clearly across his face.
"You're not sane," she said in a breathless pained gasp. Trying to keep the terror and agony from her voice.
"I'm not the only one." He sat up, his leg stretched out in front of him, and let out a cold laugh.
Katerin shook her head at him. Now is not the time to laugh, she thought, as her ribs protested, tormenting her. She groped for the potions in her cloak and held one out to him with trembling hands.
He shook his head. "You need that more than I do."
"I know," she said, and pulled another potion free of her cloak, looking at him with insistence. "It's the last one, so I'd suggest you make the most of it."
He huffed out a breath and drank the potion in one gulp, groaning as the magics went to work. There was a flash of light from his blade, and an almost imperceptible glow faded from within him and the weapon.
Katerin thought it odd, but she was too preoccupied with her own pain to voice her curiosity, for once. She followed suit, and wanted to cry in relief as she felt the majority of the pain leave her, but the ache in her ribs remained, clouding her vision. Magic in a bottle could only do so much. "I'm going to need a... a minute," she said, her voice still as quiet as ever, now tinged with pain and fear.
"Of course," he said. He pushed to his feet and whistled for the horses.
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