The Mystic Strikes Back Chapter 3
By Weiss
She lay across the dark green grass, the wind playful amidst the many insects. Her legs were bent and hung above her body waving to and fro. Her elbows left pinned to the ground provided for her hands to freely move across the expanse of the air in between.
“You have to understand, even if your step mother was a deserter, your father still loved her very much.”
Tata gazed at the meandering clouds above, past the young beauty hovering above his head. “I can’t see what he sees in her.”
“Sometimes love does not make sense to those outside.” She said, her hair falling around her face in response to the slight wind.
“Yeah, I guess.” Tata said shifting to his side and closing his eyes to take a nap. “You’re real smart about that stuff Kathleen.”
“Sometimes the people inside don’t even know.” She said under her breath turning around to a sitting position.
“What?” Tata said opening his eyes quickly. His head darted from left to right searching the area around them.
“Oh nothing, just thinking out loud.” Kathleen said sweetly.
“Quiet!” Tata pressed his finger to his mouth harshly as he glared at her. Again he returned to his scanning of the horizon. The air became colder and a chill overcame Kathleen causing her hairs to stand on end.
“What is it?” she whispered, afraid to upset the forces around her. Her only response was another hard glare by an obviously upset Tata. He slowly arose from his position and instinctively, ever so slowly, reached for his sword. First an inaudible clang filled the air, followed by a slight rise in pitch. The wind quickly tore all signs of the sounds away as it revealed them. Kathleen wondered if she was hearing anything or imagining the brutish sounds. Then, in an instant and forever, the air was saturated with the blood-curling scream of a man. Than all at once nothing else but the echo of mortal combat could be heard. To their direct right could be seen Guardia knights locked in combat with other Guardia knights. Tata watched in confusion as the men slaughtered each other without mercy. Some teamed up to defeat one poor soul, only to then engage in combat amongst themselves. Sometimes after one man was killed his body would be immediately engulfed in flames eerily burning only his being and never spreading to the grass or even creating smoke. Four men could be seen retreating, running, sprinting with ever ounce of will they possessed. The two stragglers were quickly cut down by the other advancing knights in a dire chase of life and death. Then only two men remained running on a direct path towards Tata.
“Go, Flee. Run home now!” Tata screamed to Kathleen
With an intense ferocity the lead man turned and launched his blade into his counterpart. His once friends face at once culminated in a helpless confused watch. He fell to his knees slowly, by will alone not uttering a sound. By stark contrast the frantic lead runner swiftly removed his murderous weapon, and without even a second glance, continued on his frenzied rush to nowhere.
His running was erratic and his destination seemed nowhere in sight. He hurriedly glanced behind him to make sure he was forgotten. Without looking before him he could do nothing except fall into the slight ditch that ran across the wide field. Tata causally walked towards the now fallen man. His breathing a hoarse wheeze, his head bolting from right to left in unholy anticipation. Suddenly he caught sight of Tata and he cowered behind the small foliage.
“Not another of you, please spare me, I can’t fight anymore.” He stuttered into the air. Tata left the man to his own madness as he watched the rest of the men cut themselves down. Still he could see certain men falling and exploding into the bright fire that burned nothing, while others simply fell to the harsh earth below. “Your one of them also aren’t you?” the man said queerly, an encompassing fire rekindling beneath his eyes.
Tata faced the man, offering no sign of malice; he studied his newfound acquaintance and found his thoughts drifting to Kathleen. He hoped she had made it home safely, free of this ever-spreading madness.
“You won’t take me to hell demon,” the man yelled before jumping to his feet, his blade flowed through the air, calling for action, begging for blood.
“I am a friend.” Tata responded calmly. He had no time to think as the wild blade swiped past his head. He ducked under it and launched into the insane man. Rolling off of him he pulled his sword out of his sheath, hoping not to have to use it, but its security was badly needed.
“You won’t trick me again demon! Mystic!” the man screamed into the air, a few of the other men now turned their attention to the two far off fighters and began to make their way to the two combatants. “I have seen it before, I won’t be tricked again!” this time his blade continued his sentence with a timed slash aimed for Tata’s chest. Tata quickly dodged it and readied himself for a needed counterattack of his own. With a swift calculated strike, the point of his sword fell directly on the hand of the would be assassin. The insane man fell to the ground, his hand unable to hold the weight of the sword thus injured. His awkward gaze of pain and fear invoked ancient demons in the soul of Tata. He sat frozen in his stance, unable to move, unable to help. A slight gargle of fluid emitted from the throat of the man, Tata’s focus remained on his deep eyes, a relaxed state journeyed forth now, all madness and fear gone. He fell to the ground lifeless. It was only then that Tata noticed the two mystics behind the, until recently, human.
“King Ozzie was right, imbed a few seeds of fear, and the humans will rip themselves apart.” The vile gargoyle sneered. He turned his attention from the sickening corpse to the still living, and irksome human. “What a disgustingly weak race, a shame it has taken us so long to conquer them.”
Tata arose his sight to meet the two new foes. Without another instant passed the two attacked and Tata collided with them.
Again the wind blew, the birds sang, and Tata walked away from two more casualties of war. He ducked from view of the remaining fight and watched, obviously the mystics were launching an attack, but what was happening, he had to find out. A great war call echoed among those still living. Immediately after a quick snap and spark came forth and encompassed one man, when the smoke cleared an orc stood where the human flesh had been.
“Off with the disguises.” He barked into the cruel air. The rest followed suit and the field was now surrounded by the stretching of the scaly and oily manifestations. “Come we must finish the job on their worthless hero if we are to destroy all faith these pitiful humans have.” His voice was a deep bellowing from the earth’s bottom. It echoed across the expanse of the land.
“Master,” a slippery voice called out from a nega-ette. “There is a town of humans that way, we could destroy…”
“No we will kill the hero in his own home before any other undertaking is attempted.” The chief orc barked back.
“But master, We could cause fear in everyth…”
“I said enough!” The Orc rose to its full height, towering above the long lanky snake like creature. She pulled back in fear from the rage of the obviously stronger, and now angry being. “We are on strict orders from Ozzie himself, we are to destroy the one responsible for the defeat of our three generals in the first human war. Now we return to finish the job started!” He turned to leave but again the Nega-ette tried her luck.
“But sir…” just then the huge spear of the orc lord pierced through the oily skin of the mystic. A shrill scream echoed through the grass for a split second before the orc could land on her, ripping through the flesh. He then glared at all those around him.
“Any others wish to defy Ozzie’s orders?” The troop soon disappeared back into the cursed woods. Tata was already gone after the orc had revealed his plans. He had to reach his master in time, and if he could, stop the attack.