Dark Wood: Legends of the Guardians (29 page)

Their
crested banners were ripped away from their spear-headed staffs. The first one
thrown, Reign caught in the air. His scales would deflect the spears, but his
wings were in danger from these weapons. Letting out a bellowing cry, Reign
threw the spear back at them as he took flight. The weapon pierced a rider’s
torso, and pinned him to the steed who crashed down as it convulsed violently.

Despite
the darkening sky, a brilliant light radiated from above them. The heat that
came with it was that of the very fires of hell. Reign.

There’s
little control in a Dragon’s fire, but he’d done his best not to roast Allos
and Aryaunna alive. To save himself from the blaze, Allos grabbed the tunic of
the dying soldier on the end of his blade, and pulled him down to the hilt as
he dropped to his knees, holding the man’s body like a shield above him. His
screams were high-pitched wails of agony until the life was extinguished just
as the flames relinquished.

Momentarily
blinded by the flames, Aryaunna fought sightless until her eyes recovered.
“Reign!” she called out for him.
‘Help them. You have to help them.’
She
couldn’t say the words. There wasn’t enough time to get them out as she fought
on. Though she wasn’t able to look for him, she could feel it as he took to the
skies away from her. This time she’d gotten no response, just the instinctive
feeling that he wasn’t close.

She’d
pleaded he lend his aid to the others, but it felt as if a part of her was
leaving with him. “Allos! Allos, where are you?” Aryaunna cried out not for
aid, but to know he was safe. A grey blur ran past her peripheral vision. Zane?
She couldn’t be sure. No time to tell.

Bringing
her right arm up, she caught an axe on its way down to meet her stomach. The
face that met her was frenzied. Eyes so wide that their dark centers were small
pits of black surrounded by glassy pink. Saliva splashed against her face as he
let out a roar of his own.

The
blade of the axe was bigger than her head if not half the size of her torso.
And there were two.

Searing
heat lit up her back. For a moment she thought he was wielding a torch. She
hadn’t been so lucky. Her back bowed, instinctively trying to get away from the
pain. Bringing both swords up she forced blade against shaft, deflecting him
how she could. The man himself was a mountain. A mountain that could swing axes
as if they were children’s toys.

Though
he was bigger in every way, and stronger as well, she was faster. Pitching her
weight back, she rolled out of the way of the heavy blade. As she came up, he
collapsed to his knees. Blood spilt out of his gaping mouth.

Stunned,
she looked up. Raif nodded as he pulled his long blade out of the man’s neck.
Not finding any words, she nodded back. “Turn,” he shouted. As the mountain
collapsed in death, they both turned their backs to one another and fought on.

“Raif,
find Allos,” she ordered as she parried another soldier. It was becoming
exceedingly difficult to move her right arm freely. It felt like lead, and the
pain was spreading through her bicep, spilling blood with each thrust, swing,
and parry.

The
sounds of war echoed in her ears, but she only seemed able to see one foe at a
time now. Were they finally thinning out, or was her vision beginning to fail
her? Her left leg seemed to drag more than it should be. She wasn’t as limber
or quick with it like it seemed she should be.

Forcing
her body to comply beyond its complaints, she began to circle a snarling man
wielding one great sword. He’d begun to walk circles around her as he honed in,
like a vulture to its prey. But she wasn’t dead yet. She countered him.

“So
the Drow have resorted to having children fight their battles,” he taunted her.
“Perhaps I’ll bend you over my knee and teach you a lesson.”

A
sharp chortle blew out as she came to a stop, now just four foot from him.
“You’re really no good at the insults. Come on and let’s get on with this,
shall we?”

“Strange,
one so young is in such a hurry to meet their end. As you wish, girl.” His legs
were long, his stride wide. He crossed the distance in an instant. It took both
her blades to hold his sword at bay from her throat. Though he liked to talk,
he had no need nor want to prolong the kill.

From
a great distance she thought she heard her name. Was it Allos? Was he in
trouble?
Clang!
Their weapons collided. She ducked and side stepped,
avoiding just barely enough to lose but a few hairs from her head. Forcing her
body to comply to her will, she pulled up the core of her strength. The
Guardian’s strength. Despite her injuries, she found a renewed source of energy
and adrenaline ripping through her.

Her
voice rang out as she stepped into him, bringing both swords with her full
strength in from her left to right, for his ribs. They crashed against one
another as he defended himself. His fist was right near her face, holding his
hilt steadily, blade angled down. Suddenly his fist shot out, hitting her in
the nose, causing it to gush at once. Aryaunna’s steadiness faltered. The blade
of her left hand slipped across his steel, cutting the man in the face.

Stumbling
back a single step each, they swung again for one another. Her blade’s swung
together, side by side, rather than swinging them individually. It gave her
more strength to fend off the great sword’s blows. More than the man she saw
the weapon, and followed its dance.

The
two collided again, body to body. His sword was held up over his head high,
with both hands. Only her left arm was raised to hold him off. Her guard was
slipping. His blade angled so that her position left him able to push past her
single sword. The blade was swinging for her head.

Right
fist tightening, she shoved the blade straight up. If she missed she was dead
either way. Her eyes widened as she saw her blade go up through his screaming
mouth, into the roof and past.

Looking
up, she met his frightened eyes. As she stabbed up, she leaned her body to the
left. It all happened so quickly. As she leaned to the side, his blade came
down and hit her shoulder. He was left standing as her hand still held the
sword. His sudden dead weight on her arm brought them both to their knees.

She
had the distinct sensation of being under water. Noise sounded hallow, but it echoed.
Her name again. She had to go help them. The corpse was leaning against her. He
was sure heavy. In order to shove him off she had to release her swords. One
fell against the sodden ground and braced her hands against him anywhere she
could touch. Shoving him with all her worth, she screamed out, not realizing
his sword was still lodged in her shoulder.

Aryaunna
fell onto her side, looking down at the cold, blood red mud. The dead man’s
sword fell away from her flesh and meat to the ground, releasing her. What snow
was left was red, too. Her finger stretched out, reaching for the fallen sword
on the ground. They needed her help. She had to finish this. Pulling the sword
closer to her body, she braced her right hand tight around the hilt, trying her
damnedest to push up. She swallowed a cry of pain, tears bursting into her
eyes. A low groan escaped her lips as she fell back. The pain in her left was
too much to bear the weight, so she rolled over to her back.

“You
can do this, Ary. Get up. Time to get up.” Fist still clutching the hilt, she
dug the tip down into the frozen earth and forced herself to sit up. She choked
on the cry of pain. Yellow foaming vomit coughed up from her lips onto the
ground. Stomach acid. The taste it left was burnt, sour, rancid citric acid.
Amazing of all grievances she could have right now, that was the one which
bothered her the most.

Looking
down at her legs, she inspected the damage. Her left leg was dragging because
of a deep gash in her thigh. She didn’t know how deep. Nor did she intend to
find out. Her left arm was useless. Blood gushed down from the angry wound.
She’d have to rely on her right arm, which still felt leaden.

Her
head spun, making her horribly dizzy. It felt as if she stumbled back, but as
she was only sitting, she had just fallen. That horrible yelling wouldn’t quit.
Her name, but so loud and harsh. It was very annoying. It was too loud, and she
was too tired to care about running to help more people. Couldn’t she just rest
for just a moment? Just a moment. Her eyes began to close.

“Ary!”
Allos screamed right above her just as he fell to his knees. “Look at me, Ary!”
Turning his head for barely a second he shouted at Raif, “Get to the Hollow and
bring Elizabeth!”

“Aryaunna,
come on.” His hand touched to her blood stained cheek.

“What?”
she whined at him, as if he were disturbing her.

“Thank
the Guardians, I thought we’d lost you,” he breathed out with only some relief.
Only some, for she was only barely alive. “I never should’ve left you.”

“Oh
shut up,” she mumbled as she pried her eyes open. “Where are the others? And
the army?”

“Our
people live. The army of Kenan is defeated and Valhanna is falling back.”

“Help
me up,” she interrupted him. Raising her hand up, only for it to fall back, she
dropped the sword again. “Get me my sword.”

As
she struggled to sit up, his hand kept her down with only the pressure on the
side of her face. “No, Ary. You shouldn’t move.” Her gaze found his eyes. He
was stricken, not just for the blood shed he’d seen, but something more.

“Am
I dying?” she asked in a confused breath.

“I
won’t let that happen. Raif has gone to get Elizabeth.” His hand took her right
in a tight grasp. “You’re going to be fine.” He was lying. It was the blood
loss taking her. Letting her go for just a second, she called for him not to
leave as he ripped his leather off, followed quickly by his tunic. She screamed
out as he grabbed a firm grip on her shoulder, holding the tunic against her to
suppress the bleeding.

“Reign?”
she asked in a soft sob, as tears fell down her cheeks leaving streaks through
the blood.

“Reign!
Reiggggn!”
Allos cried to the heavens desperately. The Dragon had healed
her before, he thought.

Reign
was already coming for her.

The
massive Dragon crashed into the hillside, with even less of his usual finesse.
Rearing back, he reached out to his wing, and ripped the spear out. Throwing it
down to the ground, he ran for her. Allos barely had time to skid back from her
as Reign was running as he slid to a stop at her side. His body fell over onto
his side, throwing his weight and digging talons into the earth to stop. “No,”
he breathed out rasping.

A
small smile spread her lips. “My Reign.” Slowly he reached his monstrous hand
out for hers. Her fingers were exposed from her gloves. Gingerly she touched
one of his diamond hard claws. She looked up to him with the same awe she’d
looked upon him with the first night.

“Aryaunna…”
His long fingers carefully wrapped around her hand.

“I’m
dying, Reign.” She looked apologetic. Another tear fell down her cheek.
“Elizabeth can’t heal wounds like this. I’ve lost too much. Can you?”

“I
have no fire left, Ary.” Her smile softened, understanding. She couldn’t say anything
else. Tears fell freely from her eyes. It took a lot of effort to raise her
left arm and touch the small beadlike scales of his cheek. She traced the pale
patterns around his magnificent eyes gently. “I can heal you, Aryaunna… But
like the last gift, it comes with a price,” he warned. What he did not tell
her, was the price was his to pay. Her lips parted to ask, but he shook his
head and brushed the smooth glasslike surface of a claw over her lip. “Lie
still, my Ary, and close your eyes.” Folding her hands against her stomach he
watched as she closed her lids slowly.

Allos
sat on his knees, just feet from them. Waiting, fearful and hopeful all at
once. “Allos, shield your eyes,” Reign instructed. He did so, barely fast
enough to keep the brilliant light from blinding him instantly. Reign wrapped
his wings like a cocoon around Aryaunna. Only Allos was close enough to risk
being impacted by it.

Reign’s
scaled hand, with long fingers and deadly talons carefully placed against the
side of Aryaunna’s face. Her eyes opened, strangely not bothered by the light.
Their gazes locked, he whispered out to her the most beautiful sound she’d ever
heard. It was like a poem, but the words were foreign to her. The strangest
white sheet seemed to drape over them. It was so bright that all she could see
were his eyes. Night had fallen. But was the dawn rising already? Had they
fought that long, she wondered.

Then
she felt it. Her back arched off the ground. It felt like he was holding her
up. His body radiated warmth. Something seemed to touch her body, fingers or
tendrils, tracing against her skin from her head to her toes beneath the armor
and clothes. Each one took extra care of her wounds. Like heat warming her
body, the touch melted into her skin, knitting each wound and flowing through
her blood.

His
voice seemed to whisper through her, but it was loud. Not uncomfortable like
when she heard Allos calling her name, this was beautiful. In that moment she
thought she could spend the rest of her life like that. However long that may
or may not be, she wondered at.