So, they had affinities too, then. It would have been nice to discover that in a less painful way, but he supposed he should be grateful neither of the rocks had found his head.
He shifted directions, weaving through the trees, making himself as difficult to hit as possible.
Stones cracked into the trees around him. Their affinities were strong. Ahead of him, Ana gained ground. She wasn’t weaving as vigorously as he was.
Off to the right Brandt thought he saw shadows shifting. He risked a glance.
On the trail, two more of the invaders, their cloaks making them almost impossible to make out. They gained on him and Ana thanks to the open path.
“Left,” he shouted.
Ana didn’t question. With the next tap of her foot, her momentum shifted perpendicular to its old path. Brandt followed suit, worried that his focus was already waning. He couldn’t focus his internal energies forever.
They could keep running, or they could fight.
Brandt didn’t like their odds either way.
So he kept running.
Besides the song of the stones, the forest remained strangely silent. The warriors behind them weren’t shouting or coordinating in any way that Brandt recognized.
At the same time, judging from the directions the stones came from, he and Ana were being surrounded.
The invaders stripped Brandt’s final decision from him. The two warriors from the path had pulled in front of them.
Ana stopped running, climbing straight up a tree instead, three footsteps that took her into the branches.
Stones came at him from all directions, and Brandt leaped into the air to avoid them. One caught his right calf, eliciting a grimace.
Brandt’s leap carried him into the two who had cut them off. He drew his sword in midair, using his momentum to generate a powerful swing as he passed.
He landed lightly, ignoring the flare of pain in his right leg. The invaders dodged his cut easily enough, drawing swords as he passed. Brandt had never seen weapons quite like theirs. They were somewhere between a long knife and a sword.
Before Brandt could attack, a thin stream of water lashed out at one of the invaders, snapping across his eyes. The man let out a low grunt, swiping at his face.
Brandt didn’t waste the opportunity. He lunged forward, the point of his sword cutting through the odd clothing with ease.
The invaders might look different than anyone Brandt had ever seen, but they died the same. He removed the point of his sword as the man collapsed in a heap.
The water in the air writhed like an angry snake, but it didn’t faze the second man at all. He snapped his arm into the air, and Brandt caught a flash of steel.
The water crashed to the ground, evidence that Ana had lost her focus. But she didn’t fall to the ground with it, so she was well enough.
At least, he hoped so.
The invaders’ swords were shorter than Brandt’s, but the length was deceptive. Brandt tried to deflect a cut aimed at his neck, but the invader’s sword was heavier than he anticipated. Their swords clanged together, an ugly sound. The impact forced Brandt a step back. His opponent was larger and stronger than him.
They circled one another, Brandt attempting to take advantage of his longer reach. The invader let him close, confident in the speed of his defense. For as heavy as the shorter sword must be, the man handled it like a knife.
More footsteps approached, and Brandt had to dodge another rock aimed for his head.
He backed up another step.
A few trees away, Ana leaped from the branches, throwing herself into the rest of their pursuit with reckless abandon. Her war cry put his to shame.
Something shifted in him, then.
Ana reminded him there was no safety in combat. Hesitation risked defeat.
Brandt’s stance shifted. He saw the invader’s eyes narrow at the change.
Brandt reached out with his sword, the steel an extension of his body. The invader shifted, trying to avoid the stab. But Brandt stepped in, angling his body low, and his sword snaked past the shorter one, cutting a gash in the man’s stomach.
Painful, but not fatal.
The man took a step back, but Brandt had no plans to let him have a single heartbeat to recover. His first attack blended into a second, and then a third.
The warrior dropped, his eyes blank.
Brandt didn’t even pause. A few paces away from him Ana fought a battle for her life, only her quick reflexes keeping her from a journey to the gates.
He picked up a few stones as he leaped toward her, hurling them with just a bit of aim. Even after years of practice, his stone affinity wasn’t particularly strong. But it was enough to toss a few stones and disrupt the flow of a battle.
The rocks did little but distract two of the swordsmen, but that gave Ana the space to slay one of their enemies and let Brandt join the fight. Together their swords flashed.
The men they fought were talented warriors. They were each far stronger than an average imperial soldier.
But they weren’t wolfblades. And they hadn’t been training with the focus and dedication Brandt and Ana had brought to the monastery.
He was sure he had never fought better.
Two of the warriors turned their attention to Brandt, while the last focused on Ana.
He noticed a weakness as the battle evolved. Each of the warriors they fought was talented, but they didn’t coordinate well with one another. They fought alone even though they were in a group.
Brandt seized the opportunity, shifting his position so that he kept one enemy close, and ideally between him and his second opponent. Against a better coordinated duo, the warrior closest to Brandt would have retreated, keeping both of them in striking distance. Instead, both of Brandt’s opponents fought to be the first to kill him.
Brandt’s sword slid through the first warrior’s guard, finally sending him to the dirt. As the numbers evened, Brandt and Ana’s advantage grew.
A few heartbeats later, the last of their opponents died.
Brandt’s
