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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1151907-Shadow-and-Flame-Prologue
Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Fantasy · #1151907
In Seragoth, a young half-elf's life is wanted.
Prologue

The horse and rider shot through the night, galloping out of the swaying trees and toward the looming city ahead. Thunder boomed, lightning crackled, and heavy sheets of rain poured down, drenching everything in reach. But the cloaked rider didn’t pause, just bent over the horse’s neck and spurred it forward.

The horse reached the city gate and its rider pulled it to a halt.

A peephole opened in the thick wooden barrier, and a guard shoved his head out. He scratched his short bristly beard, and his thickly browed eyes squinted as he tried to distinguish the visitor. “What’d you want?” he grunted.

A woman’s voice spoke from under the cowl of the rider’s hood. “Access to the city, nothing more.”

“We don’t let people in after dark,” the guard replied gruffly. “You’ll have to wait ‘till tomorrow.”

A hand extended from under the rider’s cloak and she uttered an indecipherable word. “I can’t wait that long,” she said firmly. “You will let me in now.”

A sleight crackling noise, barely audible over the rain, dissipated into the night.

Flickering torchlight revealed the guards mildly confused expression. “Yeah. Yeah, a’course.” He stepped back from the peephole and in a minute the gate was open.

The cloaked figure spurred her horse forward and blew past the guard, ignoring his puzzled outcry as he came back to his senses.

Hooves clacked loudly as they struck upon the street, gaining speed until the horse was at a gallop. The rider heard her steed's heavy breathing; she felt that his back was warm and sweaty, despite the bitter rain. "Just a little longer now," she whispered.

The horse bounded up a set of steps and veered to the left, sending up a spray of water. He hardly needed to be guided. He knew the way. The rider peered through the gloom at the buildings that rose up on either side of the street. They were progressively larger the deeper into the city.

"Whao!" The horse began to slow before she even pulled on the reigns, coming to a stop before a grand stone house. She dismounted and ran towards the building, regardless of the deep puddles that were everywhere. The rider reached the ivy-covered wall and climbed nimbly up the thick vines until she reached the second story window. She rapped loudly on the glass and waited.

A candle was lit inside, dimly illuminating the luxurious room. Within seconds, a young man rushed to the window. His eyes widened as they settled upon the drenched elf.

Throwing open the window, he helped her inside. “Latherine, why are you here?”

“Where is the child?” she whispered desperately. “Is he safe?”

“He’s over there, sleeping.” The man gestured toward a double bed in the corner of the room. “What is it?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

Latherine relaxed, but only a little. She pushed back her dripping black hair. “William, the baby is in danger,” she panted. “They’re coming for him.”

“What are you talking about?” William said, an edge of fearfulness coming into his voice. “Who’s coming for him?”

Latherine looked directly at William. "The Silthen."

William’s mouth dropped open. He ran to the window and looked out, his eyes darting back and forth. “How can you be sure?”

“I have seen it in a vision,” said Latherine, running to the bed and scooping up a brown-haired baby. His tiny hands were so delicate, she noticed, and so soft. His ears were pointed, but not as long as those characteristic to the elves. His mixed heritage had made him an object of beauty. Latherine knew that his sky-blue eyes, now concealed by slumber, were his most beautiful characteristic of all.

“Did you see what would happen?” William's knuckles were white as he gripped the window frame.

“No.” The elf pulled the baby tighter to her chest. “Nothing of the outcome was certain."

"But how can you be sure that--"

"I'm sure, William! I know that we have to go." Her eyes met his. "Now."

William grabbed a large sword that was leaning against the wall and the couple ran out of the bedroom, down the dimly lit hallway. At the end of the hall they turned and hustled down a spiral staircase that led to the dining room.

They skidded to halt. A knot in Latherine's throat prevented her from screaming. They were here.

On the other side of the oak table that sat in the middle of the room, stood three soldiers blocking the door. Latherine felt sick as she entered their presence, as if their horrid aura was consuming her. They wore black spiked armor and carried long jagged swords at their belts. Nothing was visible under their helmets yet they stared, eyeless, at the desperate family.

The one in the front spoke in a hiss that reeked of evil. “You have two choices. Give us the child and walk away unharmed... or we will take the filthy half-breed from your corpses.”

Latherine let out an anguished moan and hugged the baby closer. William drew his sword and faced the intruders.

“Wrong choice,” the ironclad creature hissed. “Kill them.”

The other two creatures started forward, drawing their swords.

“Run Latherine!” William yelled. “Take the child and go!”

Latherine turned and ran for the staircase, conscious of an unfamiliar gutteral word spoken behind her. She almost bumped into the intruder as it appeared at the base of the stairs. Screaming, she tried to turn back; a cold metal gauntlet clamped around her neck and pulled her to the floor.

Instinctively protecting the baby, Latherine's body slammed onto the hard surface, sending a jolt of pain through her body. The creature raised its sword above her neck. While faceless, it seemed to smile.

William roared as he threw himself at the monster, his claymore smashing into the black armor.

The creature staggered back and with a deafening clash shattered into a thousand pieces. Bits of metal spewed across the floor and green mist floated up from the explosion, evaporating into the air.

“Impressive,” the leader cackled. “I wouldn’t have expected as much. This is going to be more fun than I thought. Steeanth,” he growled. A thick web of green energy wove itself over the stairway, blocking the only exit. He then drew his sword, beckoned to his remaining companion and began advancing on the family.

The baby was awake now, but silent; his blue eyes stared up the intruders, questioning. William bent down and helped Latherine to her feet, uttering an urgent whisper in her ear. "Use magic. I'll try to hold them."

The footsteps of the knights thudded as they approached. William raised his sword and stepped forward to face them.

He met them in a clang of steel and fought like he never had before. But the odds were overwhelming and the creatures seemed tireless. Their blows were relentless, their crude blades cutting the air at every angle. They pressed William harder as he grew weaker.

Latherine began speaking a long string of ancient words, her voice rising and falling while her hand made gestures in the air. As she finished her spell, a blue line of dazzling light shot from her fingertips and hit one of Williams attackers squarely in the chest. It exploded with a shriek, and only the leader remained.

The creature let out a hiss of rage and and swung repeatedly at William with unmatched speed. The tired man's blocks were slowing as he used the last ounce of energy within him.

Latherine hastily began another spell, knowing that her husband would not last much longer. Her spare hand worked furiously as she spat out the magical words of elvish dialect.

The wraith's fury was overwhelming. William deflected a chop from above, but the sword came in again from the side, and his arms failed him. The blade cut into William's flesh, nearly severing him in half.

Latherine shrieked in defiance; her spell lost, tears rolled down her cheeks as her lover collapsed to the floor. The baby in her arms began wailing uncontrollably.

“You have caused the loss of two of my men,” the armored creature whispered. “I am going to enjoy killing you.”

With hardly a pause, Latherine began another incantation, holding the infant above her head.

"No," the wraith hissed, starting at Latherine. "No!"

The baby in her arms disappeared in a swirling mist. Her attacker siezed her by the neck and pulled her forward, its sword balanced on her shoulder. "Where is the boy?" it shrieked, its unearthly voice echoing throughout the room. "Tell me!"

Latherine stared into the gaping blackness that was the creatures face, and managed a smile. "You'll never find him."

The wraith drew back its sword and plunged it into the elf's chest. But as Latherine died, she felt not despair. She felt hope.
© Copyright 2006 Ray Hawkins (captainshadows at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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