tore a chunk from the young elf’s body and the wyvern chugged it down.
A few of the children began swatting away at their stinging flesh where the monster’s saliva had touched their skin. A cloud of steam rose up from the warm blood pulsing out of the body in the snow.
The thrum of a soldier’s bow and the thump of his arrow impacting into the wyvern’s scaly hide was lost in the shouts and cries of the terrified group.
The wyvern flapped awkwardly into the trees and crashed, going into a sputtering death rage. Large clumps of snow and ice fell down on top of the beast, shaken loose from the branches above.
The devil dogs had the group surrounded in a rough circle. The sudden cry of the old herbologist caught everyone’s attention. A pair of the red-eyed, toothy beasts had gotten hold of her again and this time they quickly dragged her away from the others.
One of the soldiers charged out of the huddle to help her, but even as the other black wolf-like beast finished tearing her apart, she commanded him back. “Save the children!” she shrieked. “Do what you must to save the…” her voice trailed away as her throat was ripped out. The elven students whimpered and moaned in horror as their beloved teacher was devoured like a fallen deer before their eyes.
With the devil dogs busy, the archers cautiously urged the young elves toward the bulk of their retreating kin. They were met in a small clearing by Dieter and a handful of sentinels who were coming to their aid. As the children were calmed and ushered away, a winged panther-like beast the size of a horse came crashing down upon them. Luckily, the youngsters had gotten out of the clearing and into the trees. The forest was too dense for the creature to give chase, but since it had just crushed one elf, and lashed another senseless with its spiked tail, it had plenty to occupy its attention.
The beast’s snarling maw opened only a foot from Dieter’s face. A brimstone-tainted roar blasted at his long, golden hair and filled his eyes with blurring tears. The elf with whom he had been conferring was now lying in a steaming heap of entrails at his feet. Another elf stumbled aimlessly toward the unprotected middle of the clearing, his head a bloody mess.
From Dieter’s left an arrow loosed at the beast. From his right, one of the Queen Mother’s elves plunged his black-blood-stained sword deep into the creature’s guts. When the soldier’s sword hit its vitals, the demon twisted toward the attacker and snapped out at him. Dieter had no sword, but as calmly as if he were about to peel an apple, he pulled out his dagger and laid open the beast’s throat. A spew of hot crimson gore covered him, and an unseen hand yanked him clear of the demon’s death throes.
As surely as he had killed the monster before him, a certain dread filled Dieter’s heart. The Heart of Arbor had helped spare him, just as it had in the clearing before. He knew why he had been spared. He was the only elf who had a chance of getting them into Xwarda. The humans would surely leave them to their own fate, just as the elves had done to humans not so long ago. But Vaegon had fought to the death with the men of Xwarda. If he told them who he was, they would listen. Even though it went against the new Queen Mother’s order to stand and fight, Dieter decided what he was going to do. If she didn’t understand, then so be it.
Once he was back among the main group of elves, Dieter leapt gracefully to a low-hanging branch and whistled for silence. The eyes that fell on him grew wide. He was covered in blood and looked half-demon himself.
“We must flee the forest!” he yelled. “It will be here for our return, but if we stay, we will surely be destroyed by this unearthly force. If you wish to live to see your homes again, then follow me. If you wish to stay and die, then at least do so to stall their pursuit of us. Grant the children and the untrained a chance. We have a long way to run, but we are fleet and we know the forest.” He paused, feeling the Heart of Arbor pounding in his chest. “Come, children of the Evermore, our future lies even farther south.”
Most gathered there could feel the Arbor Heart speaking through Dieter and didn’t question the young elf, but some of the older males, who’d long forgotten the dreams of youth, lagged behind. Whether by the will of the forest, or by the stubbornness of their ways, they gave their lives for those who followed Dieter.
Through that night and all throughout the next day the elves continued their run toward Xwarda. The first night the demons harried them, but then as if some magical force began to protect them, the pursuit seemed to break off.
When the group reached Xwarda, hungry and exhausted after two nights and two days of continuous retreat, they found the gate to the city open, but the alert troop of soldiers guarding the portal was unwilling to let them inside.
Most of the elves had never seen a human city, and Xwarda was one of the grandest to look upon. Reaching towers and hundreds of arched windows could be seen over the city’s outer wall. The roofs were beaten copper, or brightly colored tiles. Banners showing Queen Willa’s black sword on white and the High King’s golden lion fluttered proudly from a hundred poles. It was as strange as it was awe-inspiring to a people who made their lives living amongst the trees.
Dieter had sweated most of the blood and gore from himself. He looked more than battle-worn when he demanded to speak with Queen Willa. The elves, tattered and dejected, watched as human folk from outlying towns were let inside for protection. The guards gave Dieter a cold shoulder and a small force was marched out to ensure that the elves stayed where they were.
It was clear that the people of Xwarda had been warned. From his position huddled on the roadside, he could see no threat yet. Dieter couldn’t tell if Xwarda had been attacked or not. It didn’t look like it had, but they were ready for it. On the towering white stone walls at well-spaced intervals, half-giants were loading huge, pivoting crossbows. Barrels of what Dieter assumed to be oil or pitch were being rolled into positions near dark-stained murder holes. The hundreds of archers lining the wall top could be seen between the square teeth-like crenelations. It was also obvious to Dieter that part of the wall here had been rebuilt recently. A lot of the stone was unweathered, and the mortar was rough and unrubbed. Dieter knew that his brother had died on these very walls, and it irked him that the men wouldn’t listen to his pleas.
A passage from his brother’s journal came to him. It pertained to Queen Willa’s strange choice of advisors. There was a pixie named Starkle, if he remembered correctly.
Dieter smiled. He knew how to get to the queen then. He found an older elven woman who was wise in the ways of the Evermore’s little folk. The fae folk lived among the elves sometimes in the spring, and there were ways to call upon them.
“A pixie? Here?” the old elven crone nodded her disbelief. “Are you sure?”
“I am,” Dieter answered. “Can you summon a pixie, Lady Poplar? It’s most important that you try, if you can.”
“I can try, Master Willowbrow,” she said with a look of doubt. “I’ve managed to summon a sparrow rider and some glitter wings in my day, but have never called a pixie yet.”
Dieter gave the old woman room, but was distracted from her murmuring incantations when a ranking officer broke formation by the gate and started toward them with a strange, almost frighteningly pale look about him. The look only grew more intense the closer the man got, but a sigh and a fast flutter of eyelids when he was upon Dieter seemed to break the trance. “You look so much like Vaegon that there has to be a relation.”
“There is.” Dieter looked at the bar on the man’s collar and the colorful medals pinned to his breast but didn’t know what level of service they indicated. Dieter smiled. “Vaegon was my brother. We, my people, have been decimated. Our forest homes were overrun by demon kind.”
“Demon kind?” the soldier asked. “By the gods, is that what’s coming?”
“I don’t know, sir, but most of my people were killed.” He indicated the haggard women and children who had run for days without food and water to get there. “We’ve been afoot for days and have nowhere to go.”
“I see bows and swords among your people. Can those able lend their strength to our defense?”
“Of course,” Dieter answered, feeling the first bit of hope he had felt in days.
“I cannot make that decision myself,” the lieutenant said. “But I'm sure my captain would welcome any who followed Vaegon’s kin to our side.”
“If I can die half as bravely as Vaegon lived,” Dieter said with a proud bow, “then I have done much.”
They exchanged names and Lieutenant Torkav gave the order for some barrels of fresh water and hard biscuits to be carried out for the elves while he located his superiors.
While they waited, a tiny, blue-skinned pixie came fluttering out of nowhere, complaining about the cold in a voice far too deep for his hand-sized body. Before a dialogue could be established, a collective gasp of awe erupted from men and elves alike. For now, swooping down out of the sky, looking as haggard and worn as the elves felt,
