Jessi: The exams are over and I can write again. Thank you all for being so patient.
Chapter Nine: Amulet
Rhisiart's eyes were wide as he looked at the bandits, his heart hammered itself against his ribs. Still he clung to Emrys' sword, the last thing he had of his late sister.
"Drop the sword. Fancy blade or not, yer can't defeat all me men," their leader stank of spirits and sweat. Food stained his greasy leathers. The short swords at his sides were well-looked after and business-like from their plain hilts wrapped with soft hide to the notched blades.
The black-haired elf swallowed and lowered Malurion to the ground. From inside his shirt he retrieved an ornate amulet. He was not sure this would work. Though he bore the name Rhisiart Teithr, he was an adopted orphan. If Malurion wasn't so weak he would use his blood for this. Lledr, who had inherited the Teithr Achubiaeth when the death of Emrys made him the eldest child, didn't even know that the young warrior had this.
Sighing he raised his sword and swiftly cut open the palm of his hand. The blood welled up out of the cut, running through the intricate lines of the falcon that graced the amulet, turning them scarlet. Old and blackened blood poured from the hole where the falcon's eyes would be, overwhelming the fresh crimson of Rhisiart's.
Rhisiart closed his silver eyes as the liquid poured over his hand, twisting into long, sticky tentacles. They burrowed into his flesh, joining with his own veins making them bulge under his white flesh. The blood, the ancient lifeblood of the Teithr family, bonded with his.
His hand lifted and the killing began.
A feral screech caused Targ and Lledr to leap to the feet, the elven mage reaching for spell components and Targ for Cau. The attacks were forgotten as something leapt into the camp.
It would have stood as tall as an elf had it not been hunched over. It resembled an elf, to a degree. The angular face was stretched out into a curved beck, razor edge covered in blood. Its eyes were black pits. The legs were almost too deformed to walk on and ended in elven feet with four bird-like talons, much too large for the foot they sprouted from.
It had four arms. One pair was jointed the wrong way and had feathers growing out of the flesh. They ended in a pair of withered hands. The other pair grew out of the creature's chest, much smaller than the other pair but ending with hands, twisted by the massive talons growing from the fingers.
It was the smaller pair that held its cargo, a young elf and a longbow made from dragon bone.
"Malurion!" Lledr ran towards the half-bird, half-elf creature, ignoring the dragonslayer's attempts to stop him.
The creature screeched again, lunging for the elven mage.
"Stop."
It obeyed the quiet command, instantly, freezing in position, one hand still reaching for Lledr.
Out from between the trees came Rhisiart.
His eyes looked forward, blank and glassy. His veins were bulging from his flesh on his face, his arms and his neck. More had escaped from the palms of his hands to clutch the sword tighter. In his left hand they were so many that they completely obscured the object held there.
"Drop."
Malurion limply fell to the ground.
"Kill."
With power that seem impossible from its deformed limbs the creature launched itself forward into a bandit that was charging towards them. Talons tore easily through flesh and bone alike.
"Oh gods Rhi, you didn't..." the mage covered his mouth with his slender hands, his eyes wide with shock and fear, "No. No, no, no! It'll kill you Rhi! Stop it!"
He shook his younger brother by the shoulders then reached for the amulet. Blood flashed briefly, and Lledr stepped backwards, staring at his bloodied fingers.
"I can't Lledr," a soft voice spoke, the voice of Rhisiart that was even now being drowned out by multiple others, the voices of the Teithr's ancestors, "I can't stop it..."