single opponent; multiple men fell at every swing. His surging might powered the magical swords with a force unknown to normal man.
“Auralee! Auralee! Ride!” Cedric voiced out across the tops of the archer’s heads, as he anxiously watched a rider race from the distance behind his army. Dashing along the back lines of the archers, a white-cloaked woman held tight to her horse as it sped with purpose towards him. She zoomed past the third and second groups of armored soldiers and past the mounted flank men to the Commander’s viewpoint. She dismounted in mid run towards Lord Reinhold and General Stromberg.
The hooded woman swept her arm across her stomach as she bowed before Lord Reinhold.
“Lord Reinhold, my apologies for the delay. I . . .”
“Auralee, no time for explanations. Did you bring it? Did you bring the arrow?”
Auralee straightened her body and pulled at the leather strap that hung around her shoulder. A three-foot long cylinder, made from a grey metal that reflected hues of blue in the light and covered in strange runes and markings, connected to the leather strap. At the top of the cylinder, a cap securely fastened its contents inside. With an asking look at Cedric, she placed her hand over the metallic lid and twisted it off in a circular motion. Cedric’s eyes watched with fervor in anticipation of what hid within.
As the lid came free, Auralee put her hand within and slowly pulled out its contents. She pulled out a single arrow, clutched between her thumb and her forefinger. Its shaft, made from the same material as the cylinder, had a small rounded globe, the size of a marble, at its tip. Fluctuating yellow light shimmered sporadically from within the globe. The metal fletching, the same metal as the container, curved like an auger around the crest.
Reinhold’s eyes lit with astonishment at what she held in her hands. He reached out to the arrow, as if it might strike him, and slowly pulled it in front of his face.
“I am still amazed that we found this intact." His words were slow, and precise.
The ringing of weapons brought Cedric back to his senses. With a small shake of his head, he sprang back to life.
“Galadin! Ready your bow!” he yelled into the crowd of waiting soldiers.
A tall, elvish man approached, his straight blonde hair hanging halfway down his back, as he pulled the string draped across his chest free of his arm, revealing a masterfully crafted elvish long bow. Galadin had fair skin, as light as cream, which gave a pleasant contrast to his striking green eyes. He wore leather crafted by a superior hand, and his cloak, a mix of browns and greens, imitated the changing color of the ground as he walked. He stood eye to eye with Cedric, but conveyed elegance, instead of masculinity, and his thin frame made no mistake of his race.
Cedric handed the arrow to Galadin, looking him in the eye. “Galadin,” he said. “This is our only chance. You only have one shot." Cedric knew by the look on the elf‘s face that he understood the importance of the arrow.
“Is it true it was crafted in the Age of Creation, Sire?”
“Yes, and it is too bad we do not have the time to admire it. Take foot, over there,” he said, as he pointed to the peak of the hill.
“Lord Reinhold, we need to send in the second wave, the avatar has conquered our dragoons!” yelled a mounted commander, over where Cedric wanted Galadin to stand.
Galadin moved to his position and knocked the arrow. As he looked down the hill, the shock of what unfolded before him came into
“Auralee! Auralee! Ride!” Cedric voiced out across the tops of the archer’s heads, as he anxiously watched a rider race from the distance behind his army. Dashing along the back lines of the archers, a white-cloaked woman held tight to her horse as it sped with purpose towards him. She zoomed past the third and second groups of armored soldiers and past the mounted flank men to the Commander’s viewpoint. She dismounted in mid run towards Lord Reinhold and General Stromberg.
The hooded woman swept her arm across her stomach as she bowed before Lord Reinhold.
“Lord Reinhold, my apologies for the delay. I . . .”
“Auralee, no time for explanations. Did you bring it? Did you bring the arrow?”
Auralee straightened her body and pulled at the leather strap that hung around her shoulder. A three-foot long cylinder, made from a grey metal that reflected hues of blue in the light and covered in strange runes and markings, connected to the leather strap. At the top of the cylinder, a cap securely fastened its contents inside. With an asking look at Cedric, she placed her hand over the metallic lid and twisted it off in a circular motion. Cedric’s eyes watched with fervor in anticipation of what hid within.
As the lid came free, Auralee put her hand within and slowly pulled out its contents. She pulled out a single arrow, clutched between her thumb and her forefinger. Its shaft, made from the same material as the cylinder, had a small rounded globe, the size of a marble, at its tip. Fluctuating yellow light shimmered sporadically from within the globe. The metal fletching, the same metal as the container, curved like an auger around the crest.
Reinhold’s eyes lit with astonishment at what she held in her hands. He reached out to the arrow, as if it might strike him, and slowly pulled it in front of his face.
“I am still amazed that we found this intact." His words were slow, and precise.
The ringing of weapons brought Cedric back to his senses. With a small shake of his head, he sprang back to life.
“Galadin! Ready your bow!” he yelled into the crowd of waiting soldiers.
A tall, elvish man approached, his straight blonde hair hanging halfway down his back, as he pulled the string draped across his chest free of his arm, revealing a masterfully crafted elvish long bow. Galadin had fair skin, as light as cream, which gave a pleasant contrast to his striking green eyes. He wore leather crafted by a superior hand, and his cloak, a mix of browns and greens, imitated the changing color of the ground as he walked. He stood eye to eye with Cedric, but conveyed elegance, instead of masculinity, and his thin frame made no mistake of his race.
Cedric handed the arrow to Galadin, looking him in the eye. “Galadin,” he said. “This is our only chance. You only have one shot." Cedric knew by the look on the elf‘s face that he understood the importance of the arrow.
“Is it true it was crafted in the Age of Creation, Sire?”
“Yes, and it is too bad we do not have the time to admire it. Take foot, over there,” he said, as he pointed to the peak of the hill.
“Lord Reinhold, we need to send in the second wave, the avatar has conquered our dragoons!” yelled a mounted commander, over where Cedric wanted Galadin to stand.
Galadin moved to his position and knocked the arrow. As he looked down the hill, the shock of what unfolded before him came into
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