The Nefaliem's Duty (Ordinal Novella, 1) (6 page)

I block his
oncoming attacks. His next punch I notice isn’t like his other
punches, as he aims for my face. I lean away and notice the
transparent energy wrapped around his hand and wrist. I flip
backwards, in a gentle backhand spring, knocking his fist away with
my boot. I elegantly land on my feet and bring up my fists. He
regards me, momentarily before continuing his string of
attacks.

I continue to
block and protect myself. Only to slip around a tree and watch as
the entire tree shivers under his impact, I hear his fist is yanked
out of the bark before he chases after me. I surprisingly regard
the monster and evade his stomping feet as one of them threatens to
kill me. “Will you hold still?” he grumbles and I leap over a
nearby boulder and land several metres below, near a river.

I hear their
majesties in the distance and know I have to do something. Another
sound waffles my ears and I hear the sound of heavy panting as if
something or rather someone is chasing after them. I glance at the
troll high above. I gather my energy and float above the ground and
over the river. I have to loose him or I risk losing the king and
the prince. Without the royal family, the current prophet of this
world will cease to exist.

I see it in the
distance. A looming figure that chases after the head prophet and
his son. I glance behind me and see the Troll is gaining—a smile
curls at my lips as I continue to run at a constant speed that
isn’t too fast for the troll but not too slow. Without further ado,
I leap over the figure that chases after the royal family. I
quickly slip out of the way and spin around in time, to see that
the troll has crashed into what appears to be a Crotian—a bull-like
monster that stands on two legs with the upper half built as a
man.

The Crotian
growls while the blue skinned golden-eyed Troll; takes a step back
and drops his height a little. It’s not as if he’s scared. It’s a
tactic a lot of fighters use. As quietly as I can, I disappear into
the forest. Leaving the rumbling of Outlanders behind me. I jog at
human speed through the forest, the moon filters through the canopy
giving me more than enough light to see the broken branches and
squashed forest grass. I can clearly see the outline of their feet
and smell strongly their scent. They’re close.

I stop and turn
my right.

There, huddled
in the shadows and the roots of a large tree; is the prince and the
king of Sparta. I slowly step forward and whisper, “Hey, it’s okay.
It’s me.” I sense they relax a little. Their eyes are fraught with
fear and worry at the same time.

“Have you heard
from Lord Volovmich?” King Eurotas asks.

I shake my
head. “No. Why?”

“We’re just
hoping he’s okay.” the prince confirms. I can’t help but smile at
the honesty whisking his brusque voice.

I peer over my
shoulder, ensuring the coast is clear before I turn back to the
royal family and say, “Alright. Let’s head back to camp.” It takes
a little longer to head back to camp on foot and a human pace. I
realise at by the end of the trip, we walked around, doubling our
travel time. I check over my shoulder every now and again to ensure
they haven’t fallen too far as we trudge through the forest. It’s
dawn by the time we return to camp.

“No!” I
gasp.

The entire camp
is destroyed. Bodies lay sprawled along the ground complementary to
the blood that smears the dirt and grass beneath my feet. Small
fires are lit, masking the once lively camp in a cloud of haunting
smoke. I stand staring at the sight—my legs feel heavy as I begin
to saunter through the carnage. The king and prince stroll behind
me and to my surprise they’re reaction is that of mine: utter
shock. “How could this have happened?” Jaheem asks.

“They were
ambushed.” Volvomich announces from the shadows. I turn the sound
of his voice and find him standing under the shadows of a tree. His
blue eyes piece the darkness and I knew without a doubt his eyes
glowed like that because it’s a recognisable trait from our demonic
ancestor.

“Ambushed?” I
wonder as I move closer to Volvomich. He steps out of the shadows
and scans the area around us.

“Can’t you see
it? It’s in the trees. The destroyed tents and set alight bodies.”
I remain silent.

“Who would do
such a thing?” Jaheem asks.

“A monster
that’s who.” The King retorts.

“Or someone
after you two.”

© Copyright 2016 by Kelvia-Lee Johnson

This is a work of fiction.

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