Chronicles of the Regressor - Chapter 7

 Chapter 7 - Echoes in the North

The northern valleys of Eldoria, once a place of serene beauty and quiet hunting trails, now felt like the throat of a beast, waiting to swallow them whole. The crisp autumn air, which had been invigorating in the capital, grew colder here, carrying the scent of pine, damp earth, and a faint, unsettling metallic tang that Kaelen recognized from countless battlefields – the unmistakable scent of unspilled blood, of impending conflict. Kaelen, Seraphina, Borin, and Lyra Whisperwind rode in a tight, disciplined formation, their horses' hooves muffled by the thick carpet of fallen leaves, a deliberate choice to minimize sound. The majestic spires of the capital had long vanished behind them, replaced by the towering, ancient peaks of the Dragon's Tooth Mountains, their jagged silhouettes standing like grim, silent guardians of the desolate north.

Kaelen led the way, his senses hyper-alert, every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig, every subtle shift in the wind, analyzed and filtered through the lens of a decade of grim experience. He rode with a grim purpose, his eyes constantly scanning the terrain, comparing it to the fragmented, yet terrifyingly vivid, memories of his past life, searching for the hidden paths, the ambush points, the very ground where his family's fate had been sealed. The weight of his premonition was a constant companion, a chilling whisper that urged him onward, a cold hand on his back.

"Are you sure this is the way, Kaelen?" Seraphina asked, her voice a low murmur, barely audible over the wind that whistled through the barren branches. She shivered, pulling her thick mage's cloak tighter around her, though Kaelen knew it wasn't just from the cold. "These valleys feel… wrong. There's a strange mana signature in the air, almost like static. It's thin, but pervasive, like a shroud." Her mage senses, finely tuned to arcane energies, were picking up on the subtle distortions of Vorlag's arcane preparations, a low hum of dark magic.

"It's the way," Kaelen confirmed, his gaze fixed on a narrow pass ahead, almost swallowed by dense, ancient forest. The trees here seemed older, more twisted, their shadows deeper. "This is where they'll try to bypass the main defenses, where they did before. The magic you're feeling, Sera, is likely residual from their scouts, or perhaps… something larger. Keep your senses open, and tell me if it intensifies."

Borin, riding just behind Kaelen, his massive shield strapped to his back, grunted, a low, rumbling sound. "Aye, the air feels heavy. Like a storm brewing, but not one of rain. My clan's elders always warned about these valleys. Said they were cursed, places where the spirits of the land sleep uneasily." He gripped his axe, his cheerful demeanor replaced by a focused intensity.

Lyra Whisperwind, riding silently at the rear, her elven eyes constantly sweeping the tree lines, observing every detail, spoke softly, her voice like rustling leaves. "Not cursed, Borin. Just… forgotten by most. And now, remembered by those who would use them for ill. The land feels… wounded here. Abused." Her hand instinctively went to the quiver at her back, her fingers brushing the fletching of her arrows.

They rode for another full day, deeper into the desolate, increasingly hostile landscape. The signs of Vorlag's presence became more frequent, more blatant: snapped twigs that were too deliberate, faint boot prints in soft earth that spoke of disciplined movement, the lingering scent of stale campfires, extinguished but still carrying the faint aroma of unfamiliar rations. Vorlag scouts.

"Hold," Kaelen commanded, pulling his horse to an abrupt halt, his hand raised. He dismounted with practiced ease, kneeling to examine a disturbed patch of moss near a cluster of rocks. "Fresh. Not more than a few hours old. A patrol, perhaps three or four men. Heading north, deeper into the valley, towards the pass." He pointed to a faint scuff mark on a stone. "They were moving quickly."

"Should we track them?" Borin asked, drawing his axe, its polished blade glinting dully. "Silence them before they report our presence? It would be a clean strike."

Kaelen shook his head, his gaze sweeping the treeline, his mind already several steps ahead. "No. Too risky to engage blindly. Our mission isn't to fight every scout. It's to confirm their main force's flanking maneuver and disrupt their magical preparations. Engaging small patrols wastes time, risks exposure, and could alert the larger force to our presence prematurely. We need to preserve our strength and the element of surprise for the critical moment." He stood, his gaze fixed on the distant, jagged silhouette of the mountains. "They're moving towards the old Dragon's Tooth Pass. That's where the mana circles will be laid. It's the most strategic choke point."

As they approached the pass, the static in the air grew stronger, almost painful to Seraphina's sensitive magical senses, making the small hairs on her arms stand on end. The trees here were ancient, their branches gnarled and twisted into grotesque shapes, creating a perpetual twilight even in the middle of the day. The ground grew uneven, strewn with loose rocks and tangled roots. Kaelen dismounted again, signaling for the others to do the same, motioning for absolute silence.

"We proceed on foot from here," he whispered, his voice barely a breath. "Stealth is paramount. Sera, Lyra, you're on point for magical and environmental detection. Borin, you're the anchor, ready to cover. I'll be the shadow, moving ahead, finding the path."

They moved like ghosts through the dense undergrowth, Kaelen leading, his movements fluid and silent, a decade of mercenary stealth ingrained in his very bones. He pointed out subtle signs: a displaced stone that had been deliberately moved, a faint shimmer of disturbed mana clinging to the air, the almost imperceptible scent of human sweat mixed with stale, dark magic. His eyes missed nothing, his ears picked up every distant sound.

Suddenly, Seraphina held up a hand, her eyes wide, a gasp catching in her throat. "There! Through the trees! A clearing. And… oh, by the Light! It's massive! And… they're already here!" Her voice was tight with a mix of awe and dread.

Kaelen peered through the dense foliage, his heart clenching with a cold certainty. In a wide, natural clearing, bathed in the sickly green glow of raw arcane energy, a chilling sight unfolded. Dozens of Vorlag mages, clad in dark, ominous robes, were meticulously inscribing colossal magic circles onto the earth, their movements precise and practiced. Their auras, dark and oppressive, pulsed with malevolent power, a foul stench in the air. Around them, hundreds of Vorlag soldiers stood guard, their armor glinting ominously in the eerie light, their weapons at the ready, forming an impenetrable perimeter. This was no mere raiding party. This was the vanguard of an army, preparing a devastating blow.

"Mana-draining circles," Kaelen breathed, the words tasting like ash in his mouth, a bitter memory. "And destructive ones. Just as I remembered. They're preparing to cripple our Aura Knights before the main assault, to leave them helpless." The vision of his previous life's defeat, the agonizing screams of his dying comrades, flashed before his eyes.

Borin swore under his breath, his massive hand instinctively going to his axe. "So many of them! By the Stonebear! We can't fight that many head-on, Kaelen. It would be a slaughter."

"No," Kaelen agreed, his mind racing, calculating odds, remembering the devastation these circles had wrought, the utter despair they had inflicted. "That's not our objective. Our objective is disruption. Lyra, my sister, is working on a counter-field in the capital, but it won't be ready in time for this. We have to stop them here. Now. Before these circles are completed."

"How?" Seraphina whispered, her voice tight with a mix of awe and fear, her eyes darting between the mages and the soldiers. "They have too many mages. Too many soldiers. A single fireball would alert them all, and we'd be overwhelmed."

Lyra Whisperwind, her elven eyes narrowed, studied the scene with intense, almost surgical focus, her gaze piercing the arcane energy. "The anchor points. Each large circle will have several smaller anchor runes, channeling the energy from the mages into the main formation. They are the weak links. If we can disrupt those, the entire formation will destabilize, like pulling threads from a tapestry."

Kaelen nodded, a grim satisfaction in his eyes. "Precisely. Lyra Whisperwind, can you pinpoint the anchor runes? And how many mages are actively channeling into the main circle? We need exact numbers."

Lyra Whisperwind closed her eyes for a moment, her brow furrowed in concentration, her Aura subtly reaching out, tasting the magical currents. "There are five main anchor runes for the largest, central circle, Kaelen. And at least twenty mages actively channeling their Aura into it, their focus absolute. The smaller circles have fewer anchor points, but they are interconnected, feeding into the main one. Disrupting one will cause a ripple, but we need to hit the main ones simultaneously, or close to it, to truly destabilize the entire network. It's a delicate balance."

"And the guards?" Borin asked, his hand on his shield, his gaze sweeping the perimeter. "They're spread out, but vigilant. Their formation is tight."

"Borin, you'll create a diversion," Kaelen instructed, his plan forming rapidly, drawing on years of infiltration and sabotage, of striking at enemy supply lines. "A loud one. A chaotic one. Draw as many guards as you can to the far side of the clearing. Seraphina, once the diversion is active, you'll target the mages channeling the anchor runes. Focus on disrupting their concentration, not necessarily killing them. We need them disoriented, not dead, to prevent immediate counter-spells. Lyra Whisperwind, you'll cover Seraphina, taking out any guards who try to interfere, anyone who raises an alarm. I'll move in, targeting the anchor runes themselves, shattering them with my Aura-infused blade, and then moving to neutralize the remaining mages if necessary. We need speed and precision. No prolonged engagements. Hit hard, hit fast, then retreat."

Seraphina looked at him, her eyes wide with a mix of apprehension and excitement. "A diversion? Borin, alone? Kaelen, that's… suicidal! He'll be swarmed!"

"I'll be fine, Sera!" Borin grinned, a flash of his usual cheer returning, his confidence unwavering. "Just give me a target! I'll make enough noise to wake the dead, and then some! They won't know what hit them!"

"You'll target the supply wagons near the eastern edge of the clearing," Kaelen clarified, pointing to a cluster of canvas-covered carts. "They're loaded with provisions, likely highly flammable. A well-placed 'accident' should draw maximum attention and create chaos."

"Understood!" Borin's eyes gleamed with anticipation. "Consider it done. They'll be too busy putting out fires to notice anything else!"

"Lyra Whisperwind," Kaelen continued, turning to the elf, his gaze steady. "Your arrows need to be silent, precise. Any guard who raises an alarm, any mage who tries to complete a counter-spell – they are your priority. Use your tribal poisons if necessary, the ones that induce paralysis or deep sleep. We need them incapacitated, not necessarily dead."

"Understood, Kaelen," she replied, her voice calm, her gaze unwavering, her fingers already selecting specific arrows from her quiver. "My arrows will find their mark, silent as the wind."

"Seraphina," Kaelen concluded, turning back to the mage. "Once Borin draws them away, you have a small window. Hit those anchor mages hard. Disrupt their flow. Don't worry about killing them, just break their concentration. We need to buy time for the mana circles to destabilize. Use your most disorienting spells, your loudest ones, to create a sense of panic."

"I can do that," Seraphina said, a determined glint in her eyes, a faint crackle of mana already forming around her fingertips. "My mana is ready. They won't know what hit them."

"And me?" Kaelen asked himself quietly, though his team heard him. He would be the ghost, the unseen force, the blade in the darkness. He would move through the chaos, targeting the physical runes themselves, shattering them with his Aura-infused blade, severing the connection, ensuring their destruction.

"Remember," Kaelen said, looking at each of them, his voice low, firm, the gravity of their mission etched on his face. "This isn't about glory. It's about preventing a catastrophe. Stick to the plan. Get in, disrupt, get out. Our lives, and Eldoria's future, depend on it. We fight for everyone back home."

They waited until the moon was high, a sliver of silver light piercing through the heavy cloud cover, casting long, eerie shadows through the gnarled trees. The air was thick with the hum of dark magic, a palpable pressure that pressed down on them.

"Now," Kaelen whispered, his voice barely audible, a command that resonated with the weight of destiny.

Borin, with a silent nod, moved first, a surprisingly stealthy giant for his size. He circled wide, using the dense undergrowth for cover, towards the eastern edge of the clearing, a dark, moving shadow. Moments later, a loud CRASH echoed through the valley, followed by shouts, the splintering of wood, and the crackle of flames. Borin had hit the supply wagons, and they were burning fiercely, sending plumes of black smoke into the night sky.

"He's good," Seraphina muttered, a faint smile on her lips, a flicker of admiration in her eyes. "Always makes an entrance."

Immediately, a significant portion of the Vorlag guards, their attention drawn by the commotion, rushed towards the eastern side of the clearing, their shouts of alarm echoing through the night. The mages, however, remained stubbornly focused on their circles, their chanting growing louder, trying to ignore the distraction, their faces contorted in concentration.

"Go, Sera!" Kaelen commanded, a sharp whisper.

Seraphina burst from cover, a streak of vibrant red hair and raw magical power. She unleashed a volley of focused mana bolts, not explosive fireballs, but precise, stunning bursts of energy that slammed into the channeling mages. One by one, their chants faltered, their dark auras flickering like dying embers. Some collapsed, stunned, their minds reeling; others reeled back, clutching their heads, their concentration shattered. The mana circles wavered, their sickly green glow dimming, flickering like a dying flame.

"They're reacting!" Lyra Whisperwind hissed, her bow already drawn, its string taut. An alarm mage, trying to complete a counter-spell, suddenly gasped, an arrow sprouting from his throat, silencing him instantly. Another, attempting to counter Seraphina's assault, fell with an arrow precisely embedded in his casting hand, rendering him useless. Lyra Whisperwind was a silent, deadly guardian, her arrows finding their mark with chilling efficiency.

Kaelen moved. He was a blur, a shadow flitting between the trees, his Aura, though invisible, pulsing with cold, focused power. He bypassed the remaining guards, who were still disoriented by Borin's diversion and Seraphina's assault, their attention scattered. He reached the first anchor rune, a glowing, pulsating symbol carved into a large, ancient stone. His sword, infused with his nascent Aura, slammed down with brutal force. The stone cracked, the rune shattered, and a ripple of chaotic energy pulsed through the clearing, disrupting the magical flow. He moved to the next, then the next, his movements precise, ruthless, a dance of destruction.

Chaos erupted in the clearing. The mana circles, deprived of their anchor points, began to destabilize violently, flaring erratically, spitting uncontrolled bursts of raw energy. Vorlag soldiers, realizing the true nature of the attack, shouted confused orders, trying to reorganize, their discipline crumbling under the unexpected assault.

Kaelen reached the final anchor rune, smashing it with a powerful, decisive blow. The largest mana circle, the one designed to drain the Aura from an entire army, shuddered violently, then collapsed inward, its green light imploding into a shower of dark sparks that vanished into the night. The oppressive mana static dissipated, and the air cleared, leaving behind only the scent of smoke and the metallic tang of fear.

"Mission accomplished!" Kaelen yelled, his voice cutting through the din, a command that echoed with triumph. "Fall back! To the rendezvous point! Now!"

Seraphina, Borin, and Lyra Whisperwind, having completed their objectives with ruthless efficiency, immediately began to retreat, fighting their way through the now-alerted and enraged Vorlag soldiers. Borin was a whirlwind of shield and axe, deflecting blows with ease, creating a path through the enemy ranks, his roars of defiance echoing. Seraphina unleashed controlled bursts of magic, stunning enemies, creating openings, her spells precise and devastating. Lyra Whisperwind's arrows sang through the air, picking off stragglers, covering their retreat with deadly accuracy.

Kaelen, ensuring his team was safe, lingered for a moment, his gaze sweeping the now-chaotic clearing. The Vorlag mages were scrambling, trying to re-establish their circles, but it was too late. The element of surprise was gone, their devastating magical advantage neutralized. He had bought Eldoria precious time.

Then, he saw him.

A figure emerged from the shadows at the far end of the clearing, a towering presence clad in dark, ornate armor, radiating an aura of chilling power. His aura, a swirling vortex of malevolent energy, was unmistakable, a cold dread that seized Kaelen's gut, a primal fear that warred with his burning hatred. The enemy commander. The man who had orchestrated the fall of Eldoria, who had desecrated his family, who had taken his life. He stood there, observing the chaos he had planned, his face hidden by a dark helm, but Kaelen felt his gaze, a chilling, intelligent fury that promised retribution.

Their eyes met across the clearing, a silent challenge, a primal hatred that transcended the chaos of battle. The commander raised a hand, and Kaelen felt a surge of dark magic, a powerful, focused spell aimed directly at him, a familiar, agonizing sensation.

Kaelen didn't hesitate. He knew that spell. It was the one that had pierced his gut in his previous life, the one that had ended him. He dodged, a blur of motion, his reflexes honed by years of survival, the dark energy searing the air where he had stood moments before, leaving a faint, acrid smell.

"You will pay for this, Valerius!" the commander's voice boomed, amplified by magic, a chilling promise that echoed through the valley, filled with raw, unbridled rage. "You will pay for this insolence!"

Kaelen didn't respond. He had done what he came to do. He had disrupted their plans. He had saved his family from this particular trap. He turned and vanished into the shadows, a ghost retreating from the battlefield, his heart burning with a renewed, cold resolve. He knew this was just the beginning.

They regrouped at the rendezvous point, exhausted but exhilarated. Seraphina immediately collapsed against a tree, panting.

"We did it, Kaelen!" Seraphina gasped, her chest heaving, a wide, triumphant grin on her face despite her exhaustion. "We actually did it! We stopped them! Did you see their faces? Pure panic!"

"The circles are down," Lyra Whisperwind confirmed, her voice filled with a quiet triumph, her elven composure finally breaking into a small, pleased smile. "They will need days, perhaps weeks, to re-establish them. And they will be compromised, vulnerable to counter-disruption."

Borin let out a triumphant roar, a sound of pure, unadulterated victory. "They won't be breaking through the north anytime soon! Not with that mess! We showed them what Eldoria's Academy students can do!"

Kaelen nodded, a rare, genuine smile on his face, a flicker of true joy. "Excellent work, all of you. Every single one of you performed flawlessly. We've bought Eldoria time. Now, we send the report." He pulled out a communication crystal, its surface glowing faintly, ready to transmit. "This intelligence is critical. General Valerius needs to know. The King needs to know. And they need to know about the commander."

He quickly relayed their findings: the size of the Vorlag flanking force, the nature of their magical preparations, the confirmation of the enemy commander's presence, and the successful disruption of their circles. He kept his tone factual, concise, omitting any personal details of his encounter with the commander, the raw hatred that had flared between them.

The response from the capital was swift and filled with relief. General Valerius's voice, usually stern and formal, was tinged with surprise and profound gratitude. "Remarkable, Kaelen. Truly remarkable. Your assessment was spot on. This changes everything. We will move to reinforce the northern outposts immediately, and prepare for a counter-offensive. You and your team have performed a service beyond measure, a service that may have saved countless lives. Return to the capital. You've earned your rest, and a hero's welcome."

Kaelen felt a wave of satisfaction, a deep, abiding sense of accomplishment. He had changed it. He had averted the first, most devastating blow. He had saved his family from this specific, horrifying trap. But he knew this was just the beginning. The enemy commander was still out there, his malevolent aura a chilling reminder, and the main war was still to come. The first strike had been repelled, but the gathering storm was far from over. His personal battle, the one to save his family and exact his vengeance, had only just begun, a long, arduous road stretching before him. But this time, he was not alone.