The truth is known (part 3)

Your village gutters into a flaming wreck all around and a wave of hot air rushes against you, Tri'lanna, and Nautilex, billowing the Elfmaid's hooded cloak in the updraft. The fabric is swept aside and underneath, you spot her wearing a teal bodice inlaid with silver threads and a riding skirt, trimmed just above the knees. You get a good look at her shapely legs, and the sight brings back memories of when you first rescued her from the goblin slavers. Tri'lanna was wearing the same thing back then, only the dress was shredded and she was terribly afraid and helpless.

How things have changed since then. How many battles did you fight together, how many words shared and memories cherished? When you close your eyes you can see her face with crystal clarity. The wide, mischevious smile on her face, the way she tilts her head slightly to one side. A little giggle on her lips, the sway in her hips, and the straightforward way she looks into your eyes. A thousand little things that make up a living, breathing person. And none of these things paint the portrait of a traitor and someone evil.

That little feeling makes itself heard again, and this time you cannot ignore it. The string of letdowns and defeats since the start of your journey has left you scarred and afraid to reach for it. After so many days of wandering, the idea that there could be something more to this ravaged island seems almost like a terrible joke. But here, in the darkest part of your heart, the crux of failure and the pivot of all your misfortune, you have discovered something that you thought you would never find again: Hope.

You find yourself praying. Not to any god you know of, and none of the prayers you were ever taught. This is a **** plea to a cruel and merciless world.

"Show me the truth." You whisper.

Tri'lanna and Nautilex immediately advance toward each other, both pressed for time. The lizardman feints to the left and she fires off another arc of purplish energy, narrowly missing his arm. He tumbles along the dirt and springs up to his feet, angling towards the Elf. He slashes wildly as he recovers, but Tri'lanna takes a few measure steps back, staying just out of his sword's reach. As he darts to her right side, he suddenly stumbles and Tri'lanna is quick to take advantage of his misstep. She outstretches both arms and touches the tips of her thumbs and index fingers together, conjuring a silver falcon that dives towards the lizardman like an arrow.

But this too was a feint. In a burst of speed, Nautilex reverses direction, crosses the distance between them, and collides with the Elf, knocking her back towards the village. In the same instant, he looks up, and yells out, "Now! Seize the girl!"

The timing is perfect. With Tri'lanna's attention is distracted in that single moment, a pair of lizardmen, hissing from the shadow of a narrow alley between two huts, emerge and descend upon the Elfgirl. She manages to maintain her footing, but they seize her arms and pull them wide apart, restricting her movement and leaving her open for attack. Nautilex hollers victoriously as he rushes forward, serrated sword raised for the killing blow.

But no tactic can outpace the speed of thought. Tri'lanna shifts her stance and extends her arms in opposite directions, palms facing away. A crack of thunder sounds and two gouts of purple flame jet outwards from her arms, expanding into massive columns of fire like a destructive hourglass with Tri'lanna at the neck. The lizardmen holding her are burnt to crisps, their screams swallowed by the inferno.

Then Nautilex is upon her, sword slashing down at her from up on high. The elfgirl throws up her left hand in defense, and utters a sharp, arcane word. Tri'lanna's blocking hand suddenly shines golden from the aura of magic wrapped thinly against her skin. As the serrated steel crashes against her hand, the gold flares up into brilliant, blinding white and Nautilex's sword is thrown back, as if repulsed by an equally powerful ****. Her other hand balls into a fist and bleeds a crimson red. Throwing her whole weight into the motion, she slams her red right hand into the middle of the lizardman's chest. The impact sends Nautilex hurtling through the air and crashing to the ground in a leathery heap.

"I tried Ceinwyn, oh Gods, I tried with all my heart." Tri'lanna says to her friend. "I had given everything I had to try and beat them back...."

Even though you know it was a forgone conclusion, to see Nautilex stand again, to watch that wretched monster drag himself back to his feet, is more than enough to make the bile rise in your throat again. You want him to stop hurting her, you want to snap that scaly neck of his and end all of the suffering he's caused, but you can only watch as Tri'lanna strength waivers for a brief instant. She looks tired, not from the battle but from the weight of all the burdens she seems to be carrying, but she calls her magic to her again.

Warcries echo through the air and more creatures rush at her from the village.

Goblins and Orcs charge headlong at the Elfmaid. She counters with emerald, whip-like threads of energy. They materialize and lash at her attackers, tying them up, strangling some, and throwing others into the night sky.

Shambling ghouls and skeletons advance in rows, shoulder-to-shoulder. Tri'lanna summons up ghost-like riders, brandishing silvery war axes and halberds. This spiritual **** of calvary tilt their weapons into the undead swarms and send them scattering.

Even greater, demonic looking monsters appear and try to pin her, and Tri'lanna becomes a sonic blur. She darts back and forth on the battlefield, leaving behind the afterimage of her presence as she circles each demon, hacking and slashing with a amber-hued, glass blade conjured from the nether, until they are bloody bits on the ground.

"....but I underestimated how badly Vanarim wanted the Shining Stone."

The reckless onslaught never seems to end though. With each fresh wave of creatures that attacks, your elven friend pulls out a new spell, dazzling you with her skill. Vanarim's armies fall by the scores, but eventually the tide becomes too much. One lucky goblin manages to clip her on the back of the knee with his club and sends her to the floor. And they are on her instantly, pummelling her into submission. She is eventually **** to her knees, lip bloodied and skirt torn, and made to face Nautilex.

"Haah, you've put up quite a fight, bitch. I think I should reward my men for your capture. An Elven hole to be passed around to satisfy their lusts. You'd like that wouldn't you? Fucking every one of my soldiers until you break. Or maybe I'll take you for myself, hmmm? A little whore to suck my cock and ssswallow when I tell her to." Nautilex says, chuckling, "It makes no difference. You thought you were being clever, but my Master had always known your colors. He just manipulated you as much as he could before you finally turned sides. Now your fight is over and you have lost. Accept your fate."

Then the surroundings seem to darken. No, you correct yourself, it is as if all the light is being drawn in towards the center of the mass of creatures. Towards Tri'lanna.

"...No." She replies, looking up at Nautilex.

An ear-splitting shriek cuts through the noise and right on its heels is a massive detonation of magical energy, a blossoming of purple flames that expands violently in all directions. The explosion rocks the earth beneath your feet and your heart stops for an instant from the impact. Even though the flame haze passes through your body harmlessly, you cringe as you watch them get blown back like leaves in a storm. Tri'lanna's scream pierces for much longer even though the spell's effect subsides, rolling and rolling without end, and then suddenly cuts off as she runs out of breath. Her head hangs weakly, as she begins to take slow, labored breaths.

For a second, everything is eerily silent, with only the crackling flames as a faint distinction, but then the pounding drums and shrill calls begin again in the night and Vanarim's forces draw close. Even Nautilex, blown back from the blast, hisses as he regains consciousness.

"I had utterly spent myself, threw every spell I knew and flung myself wildly at enemies, but by the end I knew - even though I fought hard not accept it - that Gutandor would perish with or without me....So I ran."

Struggling to stand, you can see Tri'lanna mouth the words 'I'm sorry' as she looks straight at you, apologizing as if you were actually there in the village. Apologizing for not being able to protect your home, for not being able to shelter you from your immense burden, and for not being strong enough to defeat your demons.

You feel no regret though, and lay no blame at her feet; after watching how she spent herself, how could you? Whatever fears or doubts you once had of Tri'lanna were cast away long ago and as you watch her limp away, dragging her feet as quickly as she can muster, you feel only sympathy for her plight and a burning hot need in your chest to protect and repay her for trying to protect your home.

Noan's potion must be wearing off, because the horizon grows dimmer and dimmer as a haze rolls forward and obscures the horizon, then the distant houses. Hearing a grunt, you turn back around to see Nautilex getting to his feet again. A few tiny kobolds run up to try and help him up, and he hisses furiously, swatting them away. All the creatures disperse as Nautilex shouts out more orders.

"Find the ssstone-bearer, and kill him." He says as he stalks away into mist. His voice sounds far away and so very small.

There was once a time where that voice would freeze you with anxiety and fear. Once that voice would have broken your spirit. But no more. You watched him do his worst against your loved ones, yes, but you have also seen something worth protecting and someone willing to protect you too. These things give you strength. You also noticed something very important: Nautilex didn't send anyone after Tri'lanna. He is afraid of her; afraid to go up against that monstrous power again. Somehow, that makes your own courage grow. If he can experience fear, then he is no stronger than you are.

The fog closes in around you now, shrouding you in grey. You look forward to fighting Nautilex again.