Battle Beyond the Stars

The battle beyond Mudgard's stars continued between these two titans, neither of them really claiming a true advantage over the other.

Darah was faster and far more talented with the blade than Spellweaver was. This was obvious in the way she danced around him while launching a combination of sword attacks that I could barely follow with my strained eyesight. On the other hand, a single swing of Spellweaver's oversized falchion was enough to push Darah back a step or two.

Although neither of them was landing any lethal blows, the growing number of cuts and cracks appearing on their armor was slowly beginning to pile up, and I could tell that soon, one of these two monsters would give.

Spellweaver swung his falchion forward with one hand. Darah countered with a sword swing of her own. Their shadowblades clash and ground against each other, forcing a blade lock that neither of them could pull away from less the other use that moment to take an attack of opportunity.

Darah's next action was predictable. Unfortunately, Spellweaver was thinking along the same lines as me. So, when Darah launched a haymaker from her left fist, he raised his left hand and sent it across to the right to catch the fist as it came hurtling at him.

There was another thunderous roar that was immediately followed by wind pressure spreading out to the surrounding crowd. It was a phenomenon caused by the single action of Darah's fist smacking into Spellweaver's open palm. This seemingly awesome display of power was enough to give my arms goosebumps, and I wondered how a regular guy like me could ever measure up against such foes.

As both their hands were now occupied, each one holding the other at bay, Spellweaver took this time to break the silence between them.

"You truly are formidable, Darah," his tone was almost respectful. "Perhaps you'd like to change sides? With your assistance, my Magesong Army could easily sweep through Trickster lands and conquer their territory."

I wasn't sure about everyone else, but hearing Spellweaver's proposition made me do a double-take in disbelief. Seriously?

"Um, Dean… I think he's doing what you love doing," Luca noted from beside me.

Luca was right. The dude was pulling off a recruitment drive in the middle of a battle. It's what I just did with Azuma. Fortunately, unlike Azuma, Darah had a very convincing reason not to switch sides. One of those reasons was sitting on the yellow swifthart standing next to me.

Darah laughed in Spellweaver's face before she responded with, "Join you?" Darah pushed back against Spellweaver's falchion, pushing him back by a step. "Why would a lioness share her place with antelope?"

At her words, Spellweaver's eyes narrowed. Aimed at anyone else, I'd have expected some flinching or cowering away, but Darah held his gaze. And the smile she sent him was like the maddening smile Thom gave most of his opponents.

"You really are a fool." Spellweaver renewed his effort, and this time, he pushed Darah back a step. "You fight for a weak little upstart who didn't have the sense to die when his time came… one who is not worthy of the empty throne!"

At his words, I could see Darah bristle. And it may have just been imagination, but I could almost feel her annoyance radiate out of her in waves. Strangely enough, I felt that same sensation radiate out of Aura beside me. It seemed neither she-elf liked it when someone dissed the patriarch.

"And you think you're better?" Darah's face lit up in cold contempt. "You, whose victories these last decades can be attributed to another? You, who sought help from the Scarlet Moon to gain the seat you stole from your clan's old patriarch?"

Darah almost spat the words at him.

"You do not know the meaning of strength, Spellweaver," she hissed. "You're a bully masquerading as a leader. Nothing more. My nephew is a hundred times the elf you are."

Hearing Darah speak so highly of the patriarch, I couldn't help but think that she had a point. Imagine watching your family die around you while the poison that was slowly killing them was also in you, would you have the strength to endure it? I don't know if I could. Not even to save Luca.

Thinking of the patriarch sent my mind momentarily back to the past, to that time after he gave me my fairy gift and asked the others to allow us a moment to talk privately.

It was my first time around royalty, and I wasn't really sure how to act. Suffice to say, it was an awkward meeting.

While the others left us, the patriarch asked me to come closer to where he sat on his chair by the edge of a cliff overlooking the city of grand trees and even grander wooden halls nestled between a roaring waterfall and a rocky cliff-side. This was my first real scenic view of Shärleden, a wonder of the fairy world.

"Tell me, Dean Dapper… what do you see when you look upon my city?" the Patriarch asked in his wispy voice.

"I-it's beautiful," I said, unable to hide the awe I felt for something that honestly took my breath away. "A place of magic and wonder…"

Beneath me, the city that felt hewn out of the very forest surrounding it was alive and breathing with colorful lights and sounds that made this whole surreal experience even more magical than I could have imagined. Like the hammer striking the anvil, it brought home the point that I was in an entirely new world.

"It is all those things, I agree," the Patriarch nodded. "But it is also a promise."

I turned my head to look at him. "A promise… sir?"

"A promise of a better Fayne. A kingdom worthy of the heavens," he answered.

"Is that your dream?" I asked surprised. How could I not be? Beside me sat a fairy was obviously struggling just to breathe. Yet he had such a lofty dream as this.

"You have not seen the rest of my world…" he whispered. "You will find great darkness here… and war… and death… but there is hope to be found as well…"

At this, he patted my arm lightly with his hand.

"And you shall meet others who fight for that same dream…" he whispered. "I hope you can be of use to them…"

That was the first time I thought fairies weren't all bad. Like the patriarch who stood on that cliff-side and discussed his plans for a kingdom worthy of the heavens, I saw in this battlefield a great general who fought for that very same dream, and I felt pride at being one of her officers.

I stole a peak at Aura and noticed her face brimming with that same pride for her aunt. I smiled. She and I really were on the same wavelength.

It was then that I noticed the commander of the enemy troops positioned next to mine. A dark-haired elf in an unremarkable black garb that covered him from shoulder to ankles sat on top of a dark gray swifthart. His pale, oval face, covered in a silver half-mask that was strangely similar to Aura's own golden mask, was looking right at me, a smile growing on his thin lips.

This elf glanced to the side and whispered something to the female beside him.

My eyes widened at the sight of her. It was the masked rider I fought a few nights previously, the one whose single punch nearly broke my insides.

The masked rider turned her gaze at me as well, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. It was a sure sign that trouble was coming.

After a quick discussion, the elf maneuvered his mount so that he could stroll over to me.

By this time, Aura had noticed my agitation and she turned her gaze to where I was looking. I could see her body stiffen at the sight she saw. But neither she nor I did anything as the silver masked elf strolled to the other side of her.

He lowered his head in greeting to Aura before turning to face me.

"I was hoping we would meet at least once in this battlefield, Dean Dapper," Ardeen Spellweaver said.

Of course, I knew who it was. Who else would be so brazen as to walk past enemy lines so he could come over and chat with his enemies? For sure, I was staring into the face of the brilliant strategist who nearly killed me with his plans. And now face to face with the Magesong clan's Lord of War.