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Two dark elves approach Zyranth, and he impales one with his claws while biting the shoulder. The first attempts to stab his sword into Zyranth’s side but lacks the strength to do any major damage.
A bright light draws my sight to Lord Everan, and I watch him conjure up a ball of pure magical energy. My hair stands on end as the air fills with static. Everything starts to smell distinctly sharp and makes me dive to the ground away from any trees on instinct.
Though I doubt the coming lightning is natural, lessons drilled into me from a more peaceful time have me listening to the voice in my head that sounds suspiciously like my father’s. I shut my eyes close and stick my fingers in my ears.
A deafening crack of thunder reverberates throughout the forest and shakes the very ground itself. When I open my eyes, I see branches swaying and leaves floating down to the ground. Instead of ozone, I smell burning wood, and I lift myself up just enough to check on Zyranth.
The strike seems to have missed him, a fact that gives me great relief, but the terrain is getting harder and harder to traverse, and my worry grows.
“Nice dodge, beast,” Lord Everan calls. “I’m almost impressed!”
The battle between Zyranth and Everan continues with no end in sight. Even the dark elves seem to appear from the shadows, though they serve as small obstacles to Zyranth’s power. I know that I’m only safe because I’ve stayed far back, behind Zyranth so Lord Everan can’t get me, and any dark elf that tries is cut down before too long.
Zyranth bites into the midsection of an armored dark elf, easily crushing the metal all the way down to his ribs. The dark elf’s scream is only one of many and is cut off by blood pooling in his mouth.
“There’s so many of them,” I whisper, too afraid to draw attention to myself even though there is nobody around to hear me.
My hands shake. Zyranth is different from humans and dark elves, but he’s not immortal. His energy is not endless.
I wonder how long this will last.
“This all feels so nostalgic, doesn't it, my dear monster?” Lord Everan calls out as Zyranth tears into another one of his servants. “Don’t you think so? Do you feel the familiarity? The warmth?”
“There wasnothingwarm about you!” Zyranth roars, and even though I know why now, the emotion in his voice knocks me back.
I feel dreadful about bringing him into this. My fists clench, and I feel nails digging into my skin. If I hadn’t run into Zyranth when I did, I’d probably be dead, but he’d also be far away from here. Away from Lord Everan, away from everything that’s hurt him.
Zyranth launches himself into the air and dive bombs Lord Everan, who blocks him off with a forcefield of magic. I watch his black wings against the sky, and in a split-second, count all of the scars on them. There are wounds on Zyranth that run deep, not just physically but emotionally. I see that as they yell at each other and in the small flinches that wrack his body every time Lord Everan prepares another spell.
Their battle is impressive but one-sided. Lord Everan launches spell after spell to push Zyranth back, and he succeeds. While Zyranth doesn’t have mortal wounds yet, his resolve is waning. Time is running out. Eventually, Zyranth will be too exhausted to dodge another attack or blowback another group of dark elves. He’s going to lose, and we’ll both die here.
Despite all this, Zyranth always has one eye on me, and even though I know he’s doing it to keep me safe, I know it’s distracting. Every time he glances back is a moment where Lord Everan can strike him, and our luck will only last so long.
“Remember this one, Zyranth?” Lord Everan yells, manic glee clear on his face as he toys with Zyranth. “You used to love this one!”
Around Lord Everan a magic circle appears with intricate runes and symbols that I could never hope to understand. It separates into three rings that rotate around him like stars and connects back to a full circle in front of him in a bright light that he holds out in front of him.
“I used to find it so funny how this would make you flinch at any type of magic,” Lord Everan says. The joy in his voice is sickeningly sweet but pairs dreadfully with the rasp of an evil man. “Towards the end, I didn’t even have to do anything to you. I’d just have to show you some runes, and you’d flinch.”
Zyranth watches, frozen in place. It’s terrifying to see him so silent, with his eyes wide and limbs locked. Lord Everan’s face is twisted up into a cruel, manic smile as he realizes that Zyranth hasn’t gotten over his fear after all these years.
If Zyranth doesn’t move, he’s going to die. We’ll both die.
My feet are moving before I even notice, sprinting my way alongside the battlefield. I jump over and around the mangled bodies of dark elves but keep to the trees and not the scorched ground. Lord Everan can’t see me until I get to him.
“I guess time doesn’t heal all wounds, does it?” I hear Lord Everan say. He hasn’t fired yet, thankfully, content with watching Zyranth freeze from past traumas. Every time Zyranth manages to break free of this spell, Lord Everan’s runes and magic circles just shine brighter.
I trip on the remains of a body, spitting out blood and gore that accidently gets into my mouth. Neither Zyranth nor I will survive this if we keep doing the same things. The only chance we – Zyranth – have at surviving is me.
I won’t make it out of here, but he will, and maybe I can finally repay him for saving me that fateful night.
Lord Everan is getting closer now, and my eyes burn as I stare directly into his charging spell. Even the spare dark elf soldiers don’t notice as I run toward them, either similarly distracted by the immense power or cowardice.
“This was a fun game to play with you, Zyranth,” Lord Everan says. “I’m happy to have participated.”
When Lord Everan reels back to launch his magic, I scream.
“Please,” I call out, arm outstretched. It’s terrifying being this close to him. I can feel his power oozing. “Don’t!”
