Here comes the second last chapter The Battle Scene! Sit back enjoy and be prepared for excitement :D Just want to thank Owlkin for all her help on this chapter because it wouldn't be this good if it wasn't for her :D Now onto the fighting!
"This is it." Annora spoke slowly and took a deep breath. "This is our only chance to stop Mornhavon and his rule of terror."
The group of three elves, three Eletians and one human stood just within the tree line of the Green Cloak forest that grew near to the Sacor Castle.
"Just remember to move quickly. Never stay in the same place for too long. Keep moving." King Santanara told them quickly.
They all took deep breaths to steel themselves and were about to walk into what could be their last battle.
"Karigan," Ealdaen quickly turned to her and grabbed her shoulders, desperation plain on his face.
"Yes?" She asked looking up into his deep grey eyes.
"After all this," Ealdaen opened and closed his mouth for a while before hurriedly continuing, "we need to talk."
Karigan looked slightly deflated, her lip curling in a frown. "I'm sick of talking." She muttered, her eyes drifting to the ground unhappily.
Annora stood biting her lip, wondering what would happen. Her friend deserved to find love. She and Ealdaen deserved each other. They both deserved something good in their hard lives.
Ealdaen took a deep breath and pulled Karigan into a kiss. It only lasted a few brief seconds, but it was enough to make everyone smile despite their serious situation.
When the kiss ended Karigan looked completely shocked. Her eyes stayed closed for a few seconds before she smiled.
"We'll have that talk later." She smiled happily.
"Anyway," Santanara brought the conversation back to the present, "Annora, remember to breathe deeply, do not let your heart beat fast. The faster your heart beats the quicker your blood flows."
Annora nodded. "Let's go."
They each took a deep breath and walked out of the bush and into the massive wide plains before the walls of the castle and its gate.
Mornahvon's army stood tall and mighty before the small group. It had been split into two groups standing in lines on either side of an invisible path. The soldiers were smiling and whispering, a few called out insults towards Annora and King Santanara as the small group of seven approached Mornhavon.
The group of Eletians, Elves and Men walked side by side. They focused on the dark lord without looking away. None of them gave the slightest indication that they heard the words the army called out. They walked with their heads held high and with as much dignity as they could.
Annora felt anger beyond comprehension as she saw Mornhavon. She felt her companions' bristle with fury and could hear their deep breaths as they tried to keep control over their anger.
Mornhavon was standing in the middle of the path. He was smiling, patiently waiting for them. Annora felt bile rise in her throat as she realized what he was wearing. He was clad head to toe in black Eletian armor that shifted and darkened and rose in spikes with his breathing. The only way he'd have learned to make such armor would have been from studying a dead Eletian's armor or he was told by a traitor.
The group came to a halt in front of him.
"Alessandros Mornhavon you have this one chance to surrender. If you do then your death will be quick and painless and your people will be given a fair trial." Santanara spoke boldly and with a commanding voice that would easily carry across battlefields.
Mornhavon's army laughed mockingly, their voices echoing around the town a hundred meters away.
"And who would kill me. Perhaps you, Annora?" Mornhavon smiled.
Annora felt herself weaken, felt her breathing quicken and her heart beat faster in fear. She wanted nothing more than to run away from him, to get away from this place, to get as far as possible from his black taint.
I'm right beside you. Hold on.
Annora felt Santanara's comforting presence beside her. She felt the magic in him, that they shared, pulse strongly and her magic fluttered in response.
Confidence flowed into her and she took a deep comforting breath.
"Mornhavon, give up now." Annora told him.
He laughed. "I might keep you alive for a while my dear, just for some amusement." Mornhavon unsheathed his broadsword, the steel flashing in the sun and he faced them, an amused smile playing on his face.
The seven attacked simultaneously, each unsheathing their blades instantly. Mornhavon ducked under Santanara's first strike with unnatural speed, a sinister chuckle hissing from between his teeth.
Darkness sprung from him and surged towards Santanara. The shadows latched onto Santanara's armor. Writhing and twisting it slipped through the armor's cracks. He jumped back and tried to rip the magic from him. He ripped his breast plate off and started screaming as the darkness ripped into his skin. His voice rose in pitch as he sunk to the ground.
Mornhavon kicked out at Ealdaen. As his foot swung through the air a spike grew on the end, Ealdaen dropped to the ground and Mornhavon's foot met empty air. Ealdaen danced around Mornhavon, dodging the strikes to lunge forward around Mornhavon's massive form, but he underestimated the dark lord's agility. Mornhavon caught the Eletian's sword arm in a viselike grip, punching him across the face. As Mornhavon's fist descended another spike grew on his gauntlet.
Ealdaen staggered away from the blow, blood streaming from his nose and mouth as he hit the cobblestone, his daggers clattering to the ground.
Telagioth growled and attacked Mornhavon from behind but by now a soldier from Mornhavon's army stepped up. He grabbed the Eletian from behind, kneed the warrior in the back and pushed him back into the waiting arms of Mornhavon. The dark lord laughed and black goop oozed from Mornhavon's mouth and dripped onto Telagioth's face.
Telagioth screamed and collapsed to the ground. The smell of melting flesh filled the air.
Mornhavon raised his hands as the soldiers around them cheered for their leader. They were standing back now calling out and jeering as they observed their 'god' overpower the small group.
Drandamir and Helmond cried a battle howl and attacked. They wove their assault under and around him, like a spider weaving its web, never staying in one position for more than a few moments. Drandamir leapt high into the air to gain his attention, twisting and tucking his body over Mornhavon's head as Helmond would lunge forward to sweep a dagger between his armor, spinning away when the dark lord hissed and turned his enraged gaze to the blood seeping from the small cuts made upon his body. His hand shot out and sent a tendril of darkness chasing after Helmond.
Mornhavon finally caught Drandamir upon his descent, yanking him roughly down to the ground. Stunned, Drandamir was pulled up again to be kneed in the stomach, over and over, until Mornhavon finished with a knee aimed at his head. Drandamir collapsed onto the ground, unconscious and battered.
With a desperate intent, Helmond sliced across Mornhavon's back, severing several chinks and causing the armor to disintegrate. Helmond's face lit up with joy, until the back plate detached from the main armor, dissolving into a sinister shadow to wrap around Helmond's face and neck. With a muffled scream, he dropped his blade and clutched at his face, small rivulets of blood running down his chin and neck.
Karigan growled and jumped on his back. Mornhavon tossed her to the ground growling at the back of his throat. He stared down at her, kicked her saber away from her, smiled savagely and started working his magic.
All this happened within minutes and his army was standing back, their weapons still sheathed, they were enjoying watching their leader's power. They all took a step back as he unleashed his magic.
It grew in great clouds billowing behind him, as black and as foreboding as an incoming coastal storm. It raged higher and higher into the air. The sound was deafening as it grew in intensity. It was like the buzzing of a million bees. The air crackled with electricity as the cloud grew and grew.
A feminine voice shouted, "Stop!"
Mornhavon turned around and looked at Annora standing there. Her broken and battered comrades around her fueling her rage and making her completely different to the girl he'd met before.
Her hair whipped around her in an unholy cyclone, her cloak billowing around her lithe form. Her right arm was extended towards him and her eyes were closed as she faced him without fear.
At first he smiled in bemusement, until he felt her power collide against his in a violent maelstrom. He fought for dominance against her pure waves of energy, as the black mass weakened, becoming grey then white as his grasp loosened. Panicking, he fought harder to gain control over his magic, but his fortitude was weakening considerably. In slight horror, he watched as his magic spread out over his army, who could only regard the white fog with abject fear and terror, for they could not hope to outrun it.
Suddenly his whole army collapsed on itself. Wind whipped around them and like a breath being expelled they fell one by one. Within a second Mornhavon's army had been rendered completely defenseless.
He growled in anger. Pure uncontrollable madness raged through his bones and all through his blood stream and he turned his gaze to the being responsible.
Annora hesitated before opening her eyes. Happiness etched into her face as she looked over the sleeping army. It was during this distraction that Mornhavon pounced.
Screaming in rage his hands clasped around her throat, squeezing hard enough to break her neck he pushed her to the ground. Annora desperately scratched at his hands but to no avail. Nothing entered his mind but the thought of killing her, nothing mattered but the sense of justice he would feel once he had squeezed every pathetic bit of life from her body.
Annora couldn't breathe. She could barely put a single thought together.
Just as her vision started to darken, Mornhavon was pulled off her. Santanara threw him to the ground with all his might. Santanara knelt on the ground next to him, raised his dagger high and brought it down over and over again in pure desperation to kill this monster. Class and morality didn't matter, he had to just destroy this being.
Blood spluttered his pearl armor, face and the surrounding ground. Finally he stopped. He stared at the bloody form of Mornhavon. Wind blew across the grassy plain and the body disintegrated into ash that drifted away in the wind.
Santanara stumbled to his knees and looked around at his friends. Their faces mirrored how he felt. Expressions of happiness, pain, exhaustion and relief.
Annora was the first to notice Ealdaen's body. He alone had lain where he had fallen, when Mornhavon had knocked him down. She ran to his side, kneeling beside his bruised body to feel for a pulse.
Ealdaen sat up abruptly, with madness in his eyes, and grabbed her by the throat.
"Die, you meddling bitch," He screamed, and squeezed his fingers.
Annora felt the pressure build up in her mind. Her arm moved to his face with determination.
Santanara ran towards them. He was terrified he wouldn't make it. He was terrified he wouldn't be able to stop Annora before she took on more than she could handle.
Ealdaen blinked as if awakening from a dream. In horror, he loosened his fingers and dropped his arms.
Annora keeled over, her body toppling sideways as her eyes rolled to the back of her head.
"Annora, ANNORA!" Ealdaen called urgently as he realized what he'd done.
Her veins turned black and stood out bold against her suddenly pale skin. Her red lips changed to black. She had pulled Mornhavon's spirit out of Ealdaen and into herself, thinking her magic would be strong enough to destroy him but she was wrong. So very wrong.
"She needs elf medicine." Santanara looked towards Drandamir and Helmond.
Drandamir feebly crawled across the ground to where they lay, struggling to keep himself awake as he regarded her still form with worry. Helmond shook his head sadly. "I cannot do anything for her," he stated, horror at his own incompetence written on his face.
Santanara turned her over gently with Drandamir's help and took her pulse. It was beating erratically. He felt an icy tendril creep up his spine. If she didn't get help soon, and if the strain on her magic wasn't lessened, then she would most certainly die.
"There are others, in Blackveil, who could help her. One of us can take her!"
"Go through the Tower of Heaven, for it is quicker than traversing over the side." Santanara told him, briskly nodding his head in agreement.
"Alton would never allow it." Karigan told them. "I'll be right back."
She turned and ran.
Karigan was overly aware that she was running towards the castle in green Eletian armor after missing for six months. She could only imagine their shocked expressions and suspicious demeanors.
The king's, Green Riders, Army and Weapons had all come out of the castle, prepared to help in the fight. They had stopped and stared in confusion, as they had seen the small band take the situation in hand without assistance.
"Your Majesty!" Karigan tugged at her liege's arm urgently, grabbing the Green Rider banner and tearing the fabric in two.
"You need to give Helmond permission to enter Blackveil." When he didn't respond and merely looked at her in a slight daze, she shook his arm. "ZACHARY! NOW!"
In a kind of trance he wrote on the banner and signed it before handing Karigan his signet ring.
Karigan didn't even stop to read what he'd written or to thank him. She just turned and ran faster than she ever had back down the hill.
Helmond was sitting astride a gorgeous grey stallion. Annora was hunched over the horse's neck, the black veins sticking out horribly on her sickly skin.
"Here, ride hard and ride fast." Karigan panted and handed the banner up to him.
"I will." He stared ahead for a second before grasping Annora firmly around the waist and taking off into the trees.
Santanara stood to the side watching the pair ride off. He could feel her magic seeping away ever so slowly and his magic getting stronger. It made him sick to his stomach.
"She'll make it, I'm sure." Karigan said to him quietly, but she could say no more for nothing more could be done at that point.
"Um, excuse me." A voice from behind him startled them all.
King Zachary stood behind them with Queen Estora and Captain Mapstone.
"Your majesty," Santanara nodded his head slightly. He took a deep breath and raised his king mask, ready to face the next conversations like the King he should be and not the worried wreck he was inside. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am King Santanara of the Elt. We have much to discuss."
Disclaimer: I own only the elves nothing else other than the story line!
Whew *wipes brow dramatically* Chapter 17, the second last chapter, the battle scene is finished! And I left it on a cliff hanger :D hope you like the fight scene please review and tell me how I did :P