your opponent. The man standing across from us is named Bram. If I didn’t summon your men here, we would not have enough men left by morning to defend against Aurora’s army. He has single-handedly killed more men then all of those behind me. He is not one to scoff at, General. A mistake like that has cost kings their throne. And do not think we will be able to kill him today." Cedric’s expression changed to alarm. “He’s moving!”
Bram took long strides down the hillside, watching the army that faced him with interest. He swung his swords, one in each hand, in circles as he walked. Lord Reinhold glanced around to see his men’s positioning.
“Is Auralee here yet? Did she arrive?" Cedric’s iron face showed a hint of worry.
“My Lord, he has reached the base of the hill. Should we engage the archers?”
Reinhold glanced down at Bram, who walked in excited anticipation of what would be coming. The apprehensive look on Cedric’s face showed his apparent worry. “We have to slow him down. We have to. Engage the archers, and God help us." He paused for a second as he watched the oncoming man in troubled thought.
“General!" Breaking him out of his trance, General Stromberg turned towards the army behind him. “Mark, keep your men on defense. He kills without regard to numbers. You cannot overwhelm him. Your job is to stall him until Auralee gets here." He spoke with finality, as if it were the last thing he would ever say.
“Yes, Sire,” he said as he thrust his right arm high into the air, all his fingers held in a tight fist except his first pointer, which shot to the sky. He twirled his arm frantically in a circle.
“Archers!" The ‘swoosh’ of readied bows swept the line as they met raised formation. Archers, bows, and their arrows waited for the command. “Fire!" In an instant, it began.
A horde of arrows whirred into the air. The sky blackened as the wall of razor tipped death made its path at the sole man walking towards the army. The shadow of the arrows swept the ground like a monstrous plague upon its target.
Bram looked up at the beast with a wicked grin. He blinked calmly, as the explosive cracking noise of his power rang clear within his mind. If anyone but he could hear it, they would have been deafened by its reverberant detonation. After the release of his power, all movement seemed to stop. He glanced slowly upward as the arrows now only crept towards him. The scores of soldiers on top of the hill were captured in a single frame of excited movement. The birds off to his right hung in suspended flight above the trees, that a few minutes before gave them shelter. Silence rang free.
His eyes blinked slowly, caught within the wings of his own power. Everything slowed, his movement included. Time moved to everyone at only a fraction of real speed. A web of manipulated time trapped everyone's movements and thoughts. The real dominance of Bram’s power hid within his own mind, where the blood pumping energy shielded his thoughts from the leaden drag of time passing. To all else, time passed within their thoughts normally, but to Bram, one minute of real time to his opposition equaled six to him.
Bram waited two minutes as the arrows crawled patiently towards him. He turned his shoulders into the blackness of prickled spines and stepped through the sharpened steel tips carefully as they lingered past him. He raised his swords and methodically struck down the arrows that were unavoidable. Within a half second of real time, it ended, as the sucking power of his energy once again withdrew. He stood on top of the ground, which now resembled a blackened pincushion of missed arrows, staring at Lord Reinhold. He moved towards his
Bram took long strides down the hillside, watching the army that faced him with interest. He swung his swords, one in each hand, in circles as he walked. Lord Reinhold glanced around to see his men’s positioning.
“Is Auralee here yet? Did she arrive?" Cedric’s iron face showed a hint of worry.
“My Lord, he has reached the base of the hill. Should we engage the archers?”
Reinhold glanced down at Bram, who walked in excited anticipation of what would be coming. The apprehensive look on Cedric’s face showed his apparent worry. “We have to slow him down. We have to. Engage the archers, and God help us." He paused for a second as he watched the oncoming man in troubled thought.
“General!" Breaking him out of his trance, General Stromberg turned towards the army behind him. “Mark, keep your men on defense. He kills without regard to numbers. You cannot overwhelm him. Your job is to stall him until Auralee gets here." He spoke with finality, as if it were the last thing he would ever say.
“Yes, Sire,” he said as he thrust his right arm high into the air, all his fingers held in a tight fist except his first pointer, which shot to the sky. He twirled his arm frantically in a circle.
“Archers!" The ‘swoosh’ of readied bows swept the line as they met raised formation. Archers, bows, and their arrows waited for the command. “Fire!" In an instant, it began.
A horde of arrows whirred into the air. The sky blackened as the wall of razor tipped death made its path at the sole man walking towards the army. The shadow of the arrows swept the ground like a monstrous plague upon its target.
Bram looked up at the beast with a wicked grin. He blinked calmly, as the explosive cracking noise of his power rang clear within his mind. If anyone but he could hear it, they would have been deafened by its reverberant detonation. After the release of his power, all movement seemed to stop. He glanced slowly upward as the arrows now only crept towards him. The scores of soldiers on top of the hill were captured in a single frame of excited movement. The birds off to his right hung in suspended flight above the trees, that a few minutes before gave them shelter. Silence rang free.
His eyes blinked slowly, caught within the wings of his own power. Everything slowed, his movement included. Time moved to everyone at only a fraction of real speed. A web of manipulated time trapped everyone's movements and thoughts. The real dominance of Bram’s power hid within his own mind, where the blood pumping energy shielded his thoughts from the leaden drag of time passing. To all else, time passed within their thoughts normally, but to Bram, one minute of real time to his opposition equaled six to him.
Bram waited two minutes as the arrows crawled patiently towards him. He turned his shoulders into the blackness of prickled spines and stepped through the sharpened steel tips carefully as they lingered past him. He raised his swords and methodically struck down the arrows that were unavoidable. Within a half second of real time, it ended, as the sucking power of his energy once again withdrew. He stood on top of the ground, which now resembled a blackened pincushion of missed arrows, staring at Lord Reinhold. He moved towards his
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