Magic entertwines the unknowning... |
Xael drew his sword from its sheath slowly, remaining as silent as possible as he did so. He didn't have to be quiet, but he chose to be. Facing him were two-score men, each intent on crushing him beneath their blades and axes. Three of the men carried gleaming maces as weapons. Every warrior was garbed like a hero, wearing armor that shined an iridescent blue. Their helms masked their identities, their cloaks fell to their ankles and bore a unique symbol. They symbol of the Ice Queen. These were her warriors. The Ice Queen, Harpsel, harbored a deep hatred of Xael. She hated all magicians the same way, including Xael's old master, Merlin. Merlin had once dueled Harpsel for supremacy over Worcestershire. Merlin used a mix of fire spells, and elemental enchantments, whereas his adversary had preferred using hexes and curses riddled with an icy effect. But that was a long time ago. Xael leveled his sword at his enemies as they charged at him, ice crystals forming around their metal boots. Magic. Harpsel taught basic spells to even the lowliest of the grunts in her personal army. Taking a defensive stance, Xael made several hand symbols. A swirling beam of white-hot flame shrouded him from their oncoming magical attacks. Once the fire died down, his enemies were upon him. Xael parried several strikes and cut down three of the knights, including two of the men with maces. The rest encircled him, intent on taking him on cautiously. Not one of them left the young magician's sight. He made a swift sweeping motion with his hand, causing a plume of flame to erupt from his palm and scorch several of the knights. Xael was immediately on the rest. He launched a flurry of blows that very few of the soldiers were able to repel. Four more joined the first three. Falling back to the center of the circle, Xael kept his eyes on every last soldier. One knight surprised him from behind. Xael managed to deflect the sweep that would have taken his head off at the last second, but he still recieved a cut on his shoulder. Xael blasted a beam of energy into the soldiers head, snapping his neck. He cursed himself for being so careless. The rest of the knights attempted to overwhelm him with numbers. Xael mixed a series of fire blasts and complicated sword swing combinations as he slashed down knights one after the other. Soon, every last one of them lay dead in a great circle around him. All forty of them. Xael was exhausted...but the battle had not even begun... |