Part VI
Three months later
Alanna brushed sopping hair out of her eyes for what seemed the hundredth time. She was trying to concentrate on the map of the Drell Valley showing positions of troops - and failing miserably. Exhaustion was threatening to permanently close down her system.
And to make matters worse was Numair. He was mumbling into a small black flame that hovered over his hand.
Numair, will you shut up? she growled, whirling around to confront the mage. Instead of giving her a stinging response, Numair continued talking at an amazing speed, his tone of voice at times excited and nervous.
Alanna didn't bother to reply her request. She sat down on one of the rough stools found randomly around the camp, and listened half-heartedly to the conversation.
Eventually, she heard a yell come from Numair. Eyes flicked open; hand reached for sword - but all she saw was Numair, pale with shock, snapping something at his hand. Then he gestured; the flame disappeared.
What's wrong? Alanna yawned.
Look at the northern post, was the curt reply.
Puzzled, Alanna strode out of the tent - regardless of the heavy rain - aimed her eyes towards the northern post - and gasped with horror. Then she ran back inside.
What are those things!?! she half-shrieked, half-whispered.