Aldeheid sucked in a breath and held it in his chest until it burned. His hand drifted to the pouch of ether stones on his belt, but he balled it into a fist before he could reach in and grab one. The darkness around him was so absolute that he had to press his back against a tree to ground himself in reality.
This must be what death feels like. Never-ending. Suffocating. Darkness. He'd have to ask the next time he saw his old pal.
Even the creatures of the night dared not disturb the silence. His heartbeat and breathing were the only things present to assure him he hadn't gone deaf. He placed his hand on the pommel of his sword, feeling out the intricate details of the lion's head.
Kitaya was somewhere above him, surveying the area from the canopy. Although Aldeheid had no idea how she could see through this mess. They'd found the bandit's base moments ago, a wood and thatch contraption that looked as though it would collapse at the drop of a feather. After circling around the clearing three times, they doubled-back so Kitaya could survey it from above.
Whoever that magician was, wherever he came from, he couldn't belong to a Bastion. Tormenting the humans was strictly forbidden by the people of Magika who'd made earth realm their home. And as such, it was their responsibility to make sure their people were kept in line.
A soft thump reached his ears as Kitaya came down from the tree. "We're going to split up, angel eyes," she said, her voice low. "I don't see the magician anywhere, but there are a few bandits lingering about. You go in from the south. I'll go east."
Aldeheid, took her arm before she could turn and go. "Be careful Kitaya. We don't know how strong that magician is, and you're still injured."
"Same goes for you." She patted his hand and pounded off into the darkness.
He rounded the tree and moved towards his only guiding light – the faint glow of a candle coming from inside the hideout. His light jog crunched the leaves under his feet and allowed him to eat up the distance quickly. When he came within a few feet of the structure, he ducked deeper into the treeline and skirted it until he reached the eastern side.
Assess first, angel eyes, Kitaya had told him. He peeked around the tree and saw three men standing outside, under the glow of a torch. They were unarmed, leaning against the building and chugging cups of what was probably ale. Stolen ale.
Aldeheid sucked in a breath and wrapped his hand around the handle of his sword. The darkness absorbed the blade's hiss as he pulled it free from the scabbard, the astral ore appearing black against the night.
He grit his teeth to stomp down his rising fear and leapt from the shadows. It took but a second to close the distance between him and the bandits. By the time they realized what was happening, he'd already driven the pommel of his sword into the nearest skull with such force, that it caved in on impact.
He whirled around and slashed the throat of another while grabbing the third around the neck with his arm. The human struggled against him like a fragile insect caught in a spider's web. But one twist of his arm and all that ceased.
Aldeheid loosened his grip and let the body fall. When he killed capes, it was unintentional and left him aching and filled with remorse.
But not this.
When he thought of those villagers, the terrified looks on their faces as the bandits ransacked their homes, remorse fled him like a startled deer. That magician was next.
Aldeheid flicked the blood from his blade and trudged into the building. The floorboards groaned and bent as he stepped inside.
The single candle by the door had the room awash in a soft glow. Dirty plates and bowls were on the centered wooden table and a pot hung over a pit of smoldering ashes in the corner. Shelves upon shelves lined the walls, filled with jars of spices, preserved fruit and tea leaves. Sacks of grain were piled high next to dozens of barrels, and baskets laden with fresh fruit and vegetables hung from the rafters.
He moved to the next room via a door opposite the exit. Just beyond the threshold was a corpse. A throwing knife was in its neck and a pool of blood beneath it. Another body was sprawled over the settee and a third at the base of the stairs.
Aldeheid held his guard up and wandered further into the room, past the hearth and towards the entrance. Before he got to the door, something nudged his shoulder. He whirled around, ready to strike and came face-to-face with Kitaya. All the air exited his lungs in a great rush and he lowered his blade.
She put a finger against her lips, then pulled him towards the nearest window. We need to go, she mouthed. After climbing out herself, she helped him through, and together they moved away from the building to the treeline.
"The magician isn't here yet," she announced, her voice but a whisper.
He swore under his breath and sheathed his sword. "Then we wait, kitten." When she nodded her agreement, they crouched into the underbrush, eyes rapt on the area around the hideout.
But they didn't have to wait long. Moments later, the magician materialized outside the entrance. His hair was damp, his feet bare and his pants rolled up to the knees. The elegant white cape on his shoulders had rivulets of water dripping from its silken surface.
Aldeheid fully expected Kitaya to fly out of their hiding spot and dive right into another dance with death. Instead her eyes were distant while she bit down on her thumbnail.
Fine... He slipped his sword from it sheath with one hand and grabbed a handful of ether stones with the other. As soon as the magician, mounted the steps to head inside, he rushed to intercept him.
The magician didn't get wind of what was happening until Aldeheid was upon him. He side-stepped the sword thrust but it still managed to dig into his arm. Their eyes met in an exchange of shock and malice that made the air buzz between them.
The magician leapt back, holding his wound. A cadence of pretty words escaped his lips and several balls of fire shot in Aldeheid's direction.
He rushed into the attack as he brewed up a spell of his own, and what he couldn't edge around was deflected with his sword. Heat licked at his skin but his enchanted gear warded of the worst of it. As he slashed through the last ball of fire, he found the space the magician had occupied empty.
"Run!" Kitaya's voice reached him just as the bolt of lightning arched his way.
There was no time to escape, so Aldeheid finished up his own spell and countered. Lightning collided with lightning as the spells met, sending sparks shooting into the night. He dug the balls of his feet into the dirt as he was pushed back by the force of his opponent's power.
In his peripheral Kitaya blurred past but was intercepted by an earth spell. Rock spires shot up from the ground, sending tiny tremors vibrating through the forest.
Two spells at once? What was this guy?
Still, Kitaya danced around them like they were a mild annoyance and jumped into the heart of the spells, just as a several balls of fire materialized around them. Their heat made the air wave as flecks of white flames danced in their cores.
Aldeheid swore under his breath. They were dead.
The trifecta of attacks coalesced in a blinding flash of light and a bang that rocked the earth.
A jolt climbed through Aldeheid's boots and radiated searing heat through his veins. He didn't realize he was flying until he hit the ground, bouncing and skidding through the trees. His armour was smoking as the enchantment burnt away, and his vision blurred in and out of focus. His rapid tumble came to a stop when he slammed into a tree.
Damn it all. He curled onto his side, the pain in his body allowing for nothing else. Get up you idiot! Flashes of light danced at the edge of his vision and he realized the battle was still going on.
Without him.
Aldeheid groaned and struggled to his feet, using the tree as crutch. There was no way he was leaving kitten to fight that monster on her own. He stumbled through the forest, teetering left and right like a drunken fool.
The brief flashes guided him back to the hideout, where Kitaya was still at it with the magician. She danced and skirted around his spells, moving with the same grace and power Aldeheid remembered from his master. But even when she got close enough to do damage, she was met with agile punches and kicks that matched her own.
Aldeheid reached for his pouch of ether stones, but they were gone. A growl of annoyance escaped his lips and he scanned the scorched battlegrounds for his sword. He caught the glint of the lion's head pommel near the front steps.
Kitaya was keeping the magician distracted, but he would have to act fast. He took several breaths and gauged the distance between him and his weapon. It should take less than a second if he moved at full speed.
Time seemed to slow as his long easy strides covered the distance. In one fluid motion, he ducked, grabbed his sword and launched himself straight into the magician with an arching slash.
The magician whirled and caught Aldeheid's arm with ease, and used the momentum of to flip him over his shoulder.
All the wind left Aldeheid's lungs as he was slammed into the ground. But that didn't stop him. Through the pain, he rolled to his side and swung his legs around, clipping the back of his opponents knees.
The magician teetered for only a second but that was enough for Kitaya to close in. He crossed his arms over his face and a sickening crack resounded as her fist met them.
She followed him as he went flying across the clearing, and Aldeheid, not to be left behind, went after her. The glimmer of a spell materializing caught his eye, and rushed ahead of Kitaya just as the lightning spell arched for her head.
Aldeheid caught the lightning bolt with his sword, and only then did he see the ball of fire hurdling towards him from above. There was no time to think. He swung his sword upward and the two spells collided.
The blast rung his ears and sent him flying through the night. He bounced and skidded across the dirt, sliding to a stop in a crumpled heap. The acrid smell of his armour smoking shot up his nose and black rings encroached on his vision.
His body refused to move at his command, the struggle only making him sink further into oblivion.