FROM HER VANTAGE POINT HIGH on the hillside, Danielle peered through the murk and followed the three columns of magic spiralling up into the darkness. They reached their zenith and started to spin outwards, twisting and turning. Energy sparked within the silvery clouds as they sped across the sky searching each other out. Only the Starheart needed activating to complete the circle. She glanced at Jessica and slowly shook her head.
George had still not returned.
'Sorry, we can't delay any longer. It will be too late.' she said sadly. A lone tear trickled down her cheek mingling with the rain.
Abruptly a blue orb materialized in front of her. She could see shadowy figures inside, sheltered momentarily from the driving rain. Then with an almost silent rush of air, the bubble popped.
She sighed with relief when she saw her brother standing there accompanied by Princess Meriol, Captain Thrax and Altard. They had succeeded in their rescue attempt, but not without loss she saw.
Danielle quickly held the Starheart out in front of her. It pulsed darkly between her fingers as if sensing the presence of the other gemstones. She extended her palm and started to recite the words of the spell.
In a panic, she realized she could not remember them, or at least recall them in the correct order. With everything that was happening, her mind was a blank. She tried harder, but nothing came.
Her mobile, she had recorded the words just in case she forgot.
She took it from her pocket, pressing the button to switch it on. It seemed like an age before in powered up, glowing faintly in the gloom. Her fingers, slick with rainwater fumbled with the touch screen, trying to unlock the recording mode.
Danielle looked up to see George and the Elves running towards her. He was shouting something, but the howl of the wind whipped it away before it reached her.
To her horror, in the half-light behind the group, a flutter of darkness erupted. Shadowy shapes, like the wings of a gigantic black bird, flashed momentarily against the hillside, then like wisps of inky smoke, they silently dispersed.
Ravengaard stood there.
Danielle recognised the Warlock in an instant. She recalled the ghostly apparition seen briefly in the castle on the day Caranaxus had kidnapped her sister. Remembered the cold staring eyes above the hooked nose, the silver-streaked beard surrounding the thin cruel mouth.
Now he was here in the flesh, those same cold eyes, burning with hate, fixed upon her.
She pointed, screaming a warning.
The Warlock was even quicker. In the blink of an eye, he surveyed the scene before him. Glancing skywards he saw that only three of the gemstones had been activated. Even in the heart of the swirling storm, he saw a faint lightening of the sky. A new day was dawning.
There was still time.
Ravengaard reached out with his magic, sensing the fourth piece. The girl possessed it, but she hesitated to employ it. He glanced at the boy, of course; she had been waiting for him to get clear. Foolish child, it would be their undoing. Without all four gems working in conjunction, they would not have enough power to prevent his sorcery from achieving its objective.
He conjured two huge balls of the Warlock fire and directed them towards his enemies, one at the boy and the Elves, the other at the girl. If he could stop her activating it, there was still hope.
George heard Danielle's scream, saw her pointing towards something behind him. He turned, just in time to see Ravengaard release his magic. He shouted a warning to the others and flung up an ice barrier. At the same instant, Altard countered with a spell of his own. The combined magic collided, exploding outward in a shower of flame and steam. Most of the power deflected away but what remained still had enough energy to fling them to the ground. With the breath knocked out of him, George struggled to regain his footing. He glanced towards Ravengaard pleased to see the Warlock had also been flung backwards. A stream of curses coloured the air as he hastily climbed to his feet.
Silently, a second blue orb formed on the hillside behind Danielle and her sister. It burst and Dauld Oryxicus stepped out into the low cloud and lashing rain. He was glad to note his arrival had apparently gone unnoticed. The Prince was accompanied by another Elf; tall, pale, eyes as black as coal and dressed in flowing midnight blue robes of a High Spellcaster. He followed the Elven Princes gaze to where the young girls crouched.
'The older one,' Dauld whispered. 'Just a simple spell of befuddlement will suffice. One that will briefly incapacitate her,' His eyes glistened with wickedness. 'Nothing that will draw attention to us.'
The Spellcaster nodded and raised his arms. He pointed towards the girls, murmuring the words to a spell of confusion. A faint glow left his fingertips; bridging the gap between them, almost invisible in the gloom. It struck just as Ravengaard's magic exploded among them. The younger of the two girls had moved swiftly, pushing the older one away from the explosion. Even so, the Spellcasters magic had struck its target and they watched as the girl suddenly stiffened and collapsed to the ground.
Dauld Oryxicus looked out at the three pillars of magic that had climbed up into the turmoil that spun above the battlefield. Without the triggering of the fourth spell, they would be useless. And hopefully, before they realized, it would be too late to reverse the Warlock's magic. The lands would return to how they were long before the coming of man and his relentless need to covet all for his own ends. He allowed himself a faint smile realising the hypocrisy of his own thoughts.
The Prince watched the scene unfolding before him for a moment longer. Ravengaard on one side, the children, and his sister Meriol on the other. Dauld turned to the Spellcaster. 'Maybe they will all kill each other,' he sneered. 'But no matter, should any survive—then I will have to deal with that problem later.'
Then the blue orb formed around them once more, and they were gone.
Just in time, Jessica managed to push her sister aside. She used her wand too conjured a ball of her magic and send it spinning towards Ravengaard. The magic's collided, sending a wave of heat and light surging out across the hillside flinging aside the remaining Dwarves and Gnomes who were rushing to help.
Danielle lay stunned, her head ringing from the force of the explosions. She tried to gather her thoughts but for some reason found she could not. In her confusion, she tried sitting up and to her horror, she found she could no longer move her limbs.
Ravengaard was the first to react, scrambling to his feet. He looked for the girl, saw her lying unmoving in the grass. A look of triumph flashed across his face. If he could retrieve the Starheart and destroy its power, prevent the Arcs of Heaven from being completed... he took a step towards her.
The ball of flame caught him full in the chest, smashing him backwards. He stumbled, gazing down at his smouldering robes. If not for the armour that he wore beneath, he would have been badly injured or worse.
'Stay away from her,' spat a small voice full of venom.
The smaller of the two girls blocked his way; the shimmering golden aura surrounding her body, caused him to hesitate for a moment.
'Curse you, child,' he roared. 'I will not allow you to stop me again. Not now. Not when I am so close to success.'
'We can try,' came another voice from close by. He risked a glance. The boy had regained his feet and stood pointing his sword at him, a bluish glow radiated from its blade.
'So can we,' came a chorus of voices from all around him. The others slowly climbed to their feet, Elves and Gnomes stood together, weapons all levelled at the Warlock.
He smiled slyly to himself. Singly none was powerful enough to stand against him. But together... he was uncertain. Surreptitiously he warded himself with magic, defence against attack. He merely needed to delay them for a few moments longer.
Then it would be too late.
The girl was still down; the final part of the circle of magic was still not called forth.
Just a few moments longer.
He lashed out with his magic. With a sweep of his hands, he sprayed the Warlock's fire across the hillside. The others responded, their magic and weapons hurled towards him. Laughing maniacally, he motioned them aside with ease. A madness shone in his eyes as he strode briskly forward, striking out with his magic. The Elven Captain and two remaining Elves fell beneath his attack. But the Princess launched herself at him, like an arrow she flew headlong into the battle. Swiftly dodging his magic, she was inside his defences before he realized. She went for the throat, but at the last moment, he sidestepped her strike. Her dagger ripped across his cheek as she tried correcting her aim. He cursed with pain, flinging out an arm that knocked her sideways. Throwing caution to the wind, the boy and the others sprang forward, trying to drive him backwards. Once again Ravengaard laughed knowing he was far too formidable an adversary for them. Their magic and weapons were useless against him. The Warlock sent wave after wave of magical fire knifing towards them, they scattered before it, diving for whatever cover they could find.
Danielle lay in the rain-soaked grass, where she had fallen. For a moment confusion muddled her thoughts. She was unsure of where she was. Of what she was doing here. She tried concentrating, pulling her thoughts together.
Rain soaked her face, running into her eyes.
The shouts and the sound of battle drifted to her.
'Danielle!' She heard her brother call out from somewhere close by. 'Use the gemstone before it's too late.'
Suddenly it all came back to her.
Ravengaard.
The Starheart, she must activate it. She heard her brother call out, and tried to rise. But her limbs refused to move. She tried calling out to him, but no sound came. Something in the magic that had exploded over her had paralysed her. Fear flooded her mind, she was helpless, incapable of helping when they needed her most. Something warbled. Her phone lay close by. Danielle remembered trying to recall the words that would trigger the Starheart. If she could just reach it. She willed her fingers to move, at first; nothing happened. Danielle reached deep inside herself, desperation driving her on. With a twitch, her hand moved slightly. She tried again, managed to move it a little further. Groping blindly, she searched for her phone.
It couldn't have dropped too far away, she thought.
Her fingers closed around it. She raised her arm; it seemed to take an eternity. Focusing on the touchscreen, she tapped the replay button. I hope this works? she thought.
'Ahr'idri Neirlooth Sek'araphim.' the phone whispered.
Danielle pressed and held down the volume button.
'Ahr'idri Neirlooth Sek'araphim.' echoed across the hillside.
Beside her, the ground trembled as the Starheart responded to the words. Tendrils of crystalline energy erupted from its ebon surface winding up into the predawn sky. She watched as the column rose high above her. Reaching its apex it suddenly changed direction, arcing out across the sky it searched for the other magic. Great sweeps of energy exploded outwards, spinning and weaving until all four columns were tethered together.
The Arcs of Heaven were finally complete.
At their centre, a whirling pool of aqueousness formed. Its surface flowed like mercury as it spun directly above the Dark Keep.
For a moment all fell silent.
Then with a rush, the pool of mystical liquid began spinning faster and faster. Bolts of lightning flashed across its surface and a violent wind began to howl and swirl. It grasped at the ominous clouds that surrounded it, sucking them into the massive depthless whirlpool. Then slowly it began descending towards the Warlocks Chair. As it did so thin fingers of translucid smoke-like energy shot from the vortex and went racing down into the valley.
Ravengaard screamed with rage. It was not supposed to end this way. Not this time. Memories flooded his mind. They had beat him before, consigned him to the darkness. He could not, would not let it happen again.
He raced forward, scattering magic all around, throwing the others back.
He lunged for the girl.
She barely had time to bring up her wand and send a blast of flame at him. Then he was upon her, his shields brushing aside her magic. He grabbed her, lifting her off the ground with one black-gloved hand. He pressed his face close to hers.
'Tell your sister to end the spell that drives the circle of magic,' he snarled.
'No!' the girl whispered defiantly, her body trembling with fear.
He saw the boy and others moved forward cautiously, trying to surround him.
'Release my sister,' the boy called out.
Ravengaard shifted Jessica in front of himself. 'And what will you do if I do not?' he hissed.
'It is finished Warlock,' the Elven Princess said quietly. 'Look around you. Your brief time back in this world is soon ended. Even now your armies are on the verge of defeat. The Arcs of Heaven will soon consume your dark fortress and consign you to the everlasting darkness once more. Release the child, and we will ease your passing.'
Ravengaard gripped the girl even tighter.
'Never,' the Warlock screamed in fury. 'Do you think me a fool? Halt the magic and I might reconsider.'
'Wizard, it is too late to stop the sorcery,' the Spellcaster shouted over the noise of the growing storm. 'Once started it will run its course. The magic will not cease until all traces of your dark magic are removed from this place.'
Ravengaard swung towards the Elven Wizard. His magic sparked as he brought up his hand and pressed it to Jessica's throat. 'If you value the child's life, you will find a...' he paused, staring out over the hillside. His eyes suddenly wide with terror.
Tendrils of semi-opaque matter rose up from out of the valley and writhed snake-like through the howling tempest. Jessica felt a dreadful shiver fun through Ravengaard's body. He knew they were coming for him; knew they would drag him back to the Dark Abode. He sent his magic at them pushing himself to the limit. But it was of no use. The Arcs of Heaven fed off his dark magic, absorbing it, making it part of itself. It grew stronger. Ravengaard suddenly realized this. He withdrew the magic and turned looking for a means of escape. But as if sensing his intent, the tendrils moved to encircle the Warlock. They writhed in the air around him but remained at a distance.
'Why are they not attacking?' Meriol asked.
'I do not...' Altard started to say. He paused, struck by an idea. 'It must be the child's magic. It is conflicting with Ravengaard's confusing them.'
George stared at him. 'Then we need to get her away from him.'
They moved a little closer, still encircling the Warlock.
'Stand back,' he snarled like a cornered cat. 'I warn you, I will kill the girl.'
'Then you will have lost your only protection against the magic.' Meriol warned him.
Ravengaard glanced at them, a puzzled expression crossed his face.
'She is the only reason you have not been dragged back to hell,' George shouted at him. He hoped his sister was paying attention. 'The Arcs of Heaven seem confused by her magic.'
Jessica heard her brother and understood. She had to escape his clutches. She allowed the golden glow to spread and surround her, warding her body. Then, reaching back she feinted for his eyes with clawed fingers. He jerked his head back, hollow laughter leaving his throat. At the same time, she stabbed downwards with her wand catching him in the thigh. Jessica drove the point deep, at the same time triggering the magic.
Red-hot fire lanced into Ravengaard's leg. He screamed in agony and relaxed his grip on her. The girl kicked out and fell awkwardly. Rolling away she tried to scramble to her feet. Then the boy was at her side, helping her up. Ravengaard realized his error and grabbed for the children. But it was too late. He howled in pain and fury and tried to run, but his ruined leg hindered his movement. The magic from the Arcs of Heaven saw their chance and swooped silently down on him, swiftly cutting off any escape. He swatted at the ribbons of smoke that wrapped around him. Like phantoms, they swirled about, grabbed at him, ripping and tearing, insinuating themselves beneath his armour. He felt an icy coldness leaching into his body, draining away his life force.
It cannot end like this, he howled inwardly.
Ravengaard struggled, screaming and cursing he fought against his raising horror. He directed the Warlock fire against the glistening shapes that coiled around him, seeking a way to prevent what was happening. But it was of no use, the Arcs of Heaven absorbed the magic and used it against him. They cloaked him in their shroud-like embrace and he felt himself being slowly dragged back into the Evermurk.
The girl. Her magic was a weapon against it. If only he could...
Using the last of his failing strength, he managed to pull free his arm. The raven ring glowed as he commanded the magic to flow. A thin tether of crackling energy lashed out towards Jessica, whip-like it shot across the gap between them.
George caught the flash out of the corner of his eye as he tried ushering his sister to safety. He pushed her aside, but the magic was quicker. It snatched at her, hurling him to the ground. Pain, like a thousand pinpricks, flowed through his body. He heard a scream and trying to fight off the effects of the blow, he sprang back to his feet. Jessica's unconscious body—still warded by the golden glow—was held in the air by the energy stream. She was being dragged—like a fisherman reeling in his catch—towards the struggling Warlock. George ran to her, leaping up in the hope of pulling her free. But the magic proved too strong for him and with a jolt, it flung him to the ground again. Meriol, Malin Thrax, and the Qaril brothers rushed to his aid, desperately trying to separate Jessica from the Warlock's clutches. The Elves hacked at the tether, but their swords passed harmlessly through the mystical energy. Jakth and Jerth, trying to ignore the pain, used their strength to rip at the ethereal magic. But to no avail, there was nothing solid to grasp and they did not wish to injure the girl.
Ravengaard almost has her. George thought in a sudden panic. He shouted out hoping to rouse his sister from unconsciousness. The golden light that surrounded her flared brighter as if subconsciously trying to protect her from the Warlock's dark magic. George suddenly realized what was happening. He recalled Altard's words about his sister's power conflicting with the Ravengaard's magic. He meant to use her magic as a shield, ward himself with it, hoping to escape the Arc's deathly grip. George glanced from Ravengaard to his sister and knew what he had to do to free her. He quickly closed the gap between himself and the Warlock. A look of triumph started to form on Ravengaard's face as the fingers of nebulous energy began to release their grip on him. But the look quickly turned to one of horror as George brought Frostblade down on his exposed wrist. He put all his strength into the blow, triggering the magic and sending it shooting through the flesh and bone.
Ravengaard screamed. A long wailing cry of terror and despair.
He held up his arm, staring at the frozen stump. The Warlock fell back, a look of sudden realization spread across his features. Without the protection of the girls magic, the tentacles renewed their attack. Once more they gripped him in their icy embrace, tightly enfolding him in their grasp. This time, he did not resist, there was little fight left in him, only resignation of his fate. Let them drag him back to Evermurk, he had escaped once, he could do it again. Next time he would be better prepared. Time seemed to slow, he felt the last of his life force being drained away, darkness swathed him like a shroud. He saw the boy, and the others standing on the hillside before him, watching him pulled back into the world of shadows. Allow them their moment of triumph. He cursed him and his sisters, cursed them all. Then, with a final scream of frustration, he faded from the world.
With the magic cut off. Jessica dropped to the ground. She tumbled head over heels in the soft rain-soaked grass. She opened her eyes trying to recall what had happened. She could remember confronting the Warlock and then everything had gone blank.
George was bending close with a look of relief on his face. 'You okay?' he asked. She nodded struggling to sit up.
Through the howling winds and driving rain, she saw him turn and call out.
'She's okay and Ravengaard's gone,' he shouted in triumph. 'We've beaten him.'
A cheer went up from those around them.
She started to smile, went to thank him. But cut her reply short.
One of the wraith-like streamers rose up behind her brother. As if unsure of its next move it hovered there scrutinizing him. Then suddenly it pulled back readying itself to strike. Jessica leant over his shoulder and pointed her wand. She took a deep breath to steady herself and sent a beam of golden light flooding into the crystalline tentacle. It pulled back, writhing in agony. Then withdrew from the hillside and faded away into the half-light.
'What was that about?' she asked.
He frowned, shaking his head. 'I don't know,' although deep in his heart he knew it must have something to do with the dreams he had been having of late.
Jerth Qaril called out, drawing their attention back to the valley.
Halmar Quynn ran a hand across his eyes, wiping away the lashing rain. The storm is increasing in its ferocity, he thought. From his vantage point on the hill, he peered down through the downpour at the Goblyn army that continued to push relentlessly forward. All around him the surviving Elven Hunters, and Dwarf Troopers battled to prevent Ravengaard's army from overrunning their positions. The arrival of the Dwarf army had succeeded in forcing them back momentarily. For now, what remained of the Elven army survived, for at least a while longer. But it was surrounded, the escape routes to the forest and Ellyonia beyond, cut off. Not that escape entered his mind. The hidden doorways that the Dwarves had arrived through offered a means of retreat. But it was not the Elven way. If necessary, they would fight to the last Elf to prevent the evil spreading from the valley. But Halmar Quynn feared it had only delayed the inevitable. The Goblyn hordes regrouped and were once again ready to strike. Whatever magical help promised to them, did not appear to be working, and the seemingly inexhaustible supply of troops from the Evermurk showed no sign of diminishing. It was only a matter of time before the remnants of his army became overrun. Even as he gazed out across the valley more Trolls arrived hauling massive catapults. They would soon employ them to batter the hillside with heavy boulders and fireballs. Under cover of the bombardment, Ravengaard's army would move into position for the final assault.
'If this is to be the final moments of our battle, then let us die with honour,' the Elven Grand Commander called out to his battle-weary troops. 'One last push, show them what it means to be an Elven Hunter.'
Stez Deytkal strode to his side. His once bright armour now dented and battle-scarred. 'They have fought well for Elves,' he glanced about, nodding with approval. 'But even with my Corpsmen fighting at your side, I fear it is too late.'
'So it would seem,' Halmar said with some regret. 'The Elven nation thanks you for your support. But there is no sense in us all dying this day. Take your Troopers and depart. Seek to protect your own lands and find some other way of defeating Ravengaard.'
The Dwarf High Marshal raised an armoured gauntlet in salute. 'I thank, you Commander. But we will tarry a while longer,' he declared. 'If we cannot halt him here, then I think he will prove unstoppable. All the time his armies are gathering strength. His magic is spreading, corrupting the lands around us...'
He halted pointing to the skies. 'Look, something is happening.' he shouted.
The whirling maelstrom of wind and rain dropped ever lower over the Warlocks Chair and the valley beyond. Below the combatants drew apart. They looked to the skies sensing something was about to happen. Then a brilliant radiance, brighter than the sun, began to push through the murky clouds. It started to spin; a liquid surface shining mirror-like, began to spread out across the sky. A barrage of lightning flashes arced from the clouds onto the battlefield below. Great gouts of earth and rock exploded upwards, throwing back both attackers and defenders alike. Then, without warning whip-like tendrils of translucent matter descended silently over the battlefield. Thousands upon thousands of them snaked down from the whirling pool of light, converging on the massed armies that had fought to and fro across the valley floor. Anything that had touched the dark void that was The Evermurk found itself sought out by the writhing lucent tentacles. Elf and Dwarf, fighting for their lives suddenly found their enemies snatched from them. Goblyn and Troll were stolen away and with a wisp of dark energy, they disappeared, devoured by the creeping tendrils. Screams and cries rang out over the ground, this time not cries of battle, but cries of horror and fear. Within the magics wraith-like presence, Ravengaard's forces; even the dead and dying were returned to the dark places that had spawned them. Some, realizing what was happening tried to turn and flee. But it was of no use, the tentacles were everywhere. They tried to outrun the snaking filaments of light that pursued them across the battlefield. Some tried to find sanctuary in the dark tower, others ran around in a blind panic, turning and twisting this way and that. But nothing could escape the magic. The Elves and Dwarves pulled back, withdrawing to the edge of the battlefield. Their looks of fear replaced by awe as they realised the appearance of the strange coils meant them no harm. Even as they watched, the racing tendrils snatched away the last of the Goblyn army. Before them; except for their own dead and wounded warriors the battlefield lay empty.
The pool of luminous energy continued to spin ever lower. The top of Castle Ravens Bane became obscured by the spinning turbulence. Electrical forces sparked and flared, crawling along the stonework, ripping and pulling at it. Massive chunks of crumbling battlement were torn free and sucked into the maelstrom. Cowering within, the remainder of Ravengaard's acolytes tried to scurry deeper into the towers catacombs. But it was of no avail. Such was the fury of the magical storm, that soon nothing remained of the dark keep. The storm paused, seemingly to make sure it had drawn every trace of evil that infested the land. Then as if satisfied that their work had ended, the four pillars of magical energy slowly withdrew. With a swirl of energy, they sank back into the gemstones from whence they had come. The storm ceased its endless roaring, the wind and rain slowly abated, and for a moment silence fell over the Warlocks Chair.
Suddenly a rush of air exploded out across the countryside. Ripples of time pulsed outwards in ever increasing circles. As they went, all before them dissolved into a blinding sea of white light. It struck the watchers on the hill, swept over them and knocked them to the ground. Elves, Dwarves, and Gnomes all fell before the shimmering light. It reached the edge of the valley, to where Ravengaard's foul sorcery had spread its malevolence. A vacuum formed and within its perimeter all sound and movement ceased, swallowed up by the last of the Arcs magic.
It lingered for a second.
Then with a inward rush of air, it withdrew and disappeared from whence it came.
Halmar Quynn and Stez Deytkal stood side by side on the brow of the Wiccanhyll. They looked out over the valley, deep in thought. The two leaders were the last of their races to depart the scene of the great battle.
'We were lucky.' the Elven Commander stated wearily. 'But a few moments more and everything would have been lost.'
Stez Deytkal nodded in agreement. 'I will give you that Elf. But we won in the end and that is all that counts.'
The magic of the Arcs of Heaven had completed their work. Time had now reset its self and all appeared as it was before Ravengaard's return. The valley lay peaceful and silent under the clear skies of a new dawn, and the stars that littered the heavens gradually faded away into the west. A faint glow that appeared behind the ridge of the low hills to the east grew steadily brighter, heralding the approach of a new day.
Ravengaard Manor was back in its rightful place, nestled in the valley beneath the Warlocks Chair. Except for the security light above the front door, the house remained in darkness.
The vast forest that had earlier spread its way across the valley had shrunk back to its original size. The Coblyn once again flowed clear and bright through lands moments ago blighted by rivers of blood, mud and the bodies of the dead and dying. Of the lengthy battle waged across the land, there was no sign. Ravengaard's stronghold and the relentless army that had massed in the valley had once again been locked away behind the barriers of time and space. The Faerie folk that had answered the call to battle had spirited themselves away. Taken their dead and wounded, and retreated to their hidden lands to regroup and count the cost of their participation in the war.
'It will take us a long time to recover from this war,' Halmar Quynn said despairingly. 'And when the true cost is revealed, I fear that the Elven race may never be the same again.'
Again the Dwarf High Marshall nodded. 'You may speak the truth. But from what I know of the Elven race, I am sure it will rise again, stronger and more resilient than ever.'
'The Elven nation thanks you and your TroopersStez Deytkal. Without your help we would not be here to discuss the matter,' he extended his hand. This time, the Dwarf grasped it and shook it firmly.
'I will speak with my King, Kilder Gom and see if we can offer some assistance whilst you recover.'
It was Halmar Quynn's turn to nod his thanks. 'We had better take our leave now. Let the humans have their lands back. Most will never know how close they came to losing it all forever.'
'I am not sure they deserve it back,' Stez Deytkal replied. 'Maybe next time we can leave it a bit longer.
With that, they turned and melted away into the trees.