Wynter's Rain - CH3

“They are moving closer,” said Arianna as she pointed in the distance.
“Yes, they are. I will make my stand here. Arianna, I want you to run,” I said tightening the straps on my chain-mail. I wasn’t going to leave any more of me open then necessary.
“I will not! You may have sword and great magic but I have The Keeper's support. You may be stronger than me but I can hold my own. In case you haven’t noticed, Wynter, I’m no helpless elf maiden but a full-fledged priestess of the Keeper. It is His divine power I wield. I won’t run while the man I love fights and could die. I’d never be able to live with myself. We fight or run together,” she replied.
It would be impossible to argue with her. Mostly because she was right. She could hold her own and her ability to wield divine power was damn strong. I looked at her and saw only determination. She was already investing herself in this fight. The ogres were approaching fast and arguing would only waste useless time. We would fight together. There was also the possibility of us dying in battle. Either way, we would weave a tale bard’s would tell for ages.
“Fine. Let’s see how much your God likes me,” I said. She only nodded and prayed.
“Lord of Light, Keeper of the Great Dawn, protect us from this evil quickly approaching. May their strike go wide and ours be strong and swift,” prayed Arianna out loud.
A white glow surrounded her and then flashed out around both of us. I would guess the circle of the light quickly fading from sight spread at least twenty feet in a radius around us. My body filled with strength and felt more energized than before. I felt more focused and attuned to the world. Holding my hand out, I could touch the holy energy surrounding us, an aura of safety and security. If I know none better, Arianna conjured one hell of a protection spell. I wasn’t sure what it would do since I wasn’t fully knowledgeable of divine magic but I was positive it would help greatly.
“This feels amazing Arianna. Remind me to never doubt your power again,” I said in awe of the surrounding power. My magic never felt like this.
“Let this be your only reminder,” she said smiling slyly. I smiled back.
I looked down the hill and my smile vanished. Rage and sadness filled my soul as I knew blood would be shed today. Battles like these seemed so useless and served as a reminder of what we had to do. Arianna’s survival was foremost in my heart. Bringing death to these ogres was a necessary evil I understood I had to do but I didn’t have to rejoice in their deaths. Closing my eyes, I found the spark that ignited the fire of magic in my soul. I reached in and pulled the fire out causing it to blaze within my every fiber. The magic came quickly like it always did. It was rare for me to have a hard time calling it up for a spell. I was born a natural and it came easily. A pleasant burn filled my body and my senses escalated into an almost primal glee. I smiled as the power built inside me. Magic was the one thing in the majority of my life I could always depend on. It has served me well and will continue to do so. I was good at it too. Yes, my magic is strong, it will save me. If not, I will die by it.
“Arianna, get behind me,” I said coolly.
“But Wynter…,” she said before I cut her off. “Now! No time to argue!” I yelled.
The ogres stood at the bottom of the hill staring up at me. They spoke amongst themselves. I am not sure if ogres have a language. It seems to be made up of guttural sounds and gestures. Either way, they discerned what the others were saying. My elven hearing picked out the guttural sounds of their harsh language. I didn't understand what they were saying, but I was thankful for my mixed heritage. Being half-elf gave me some abilities humans did not have. An elf’s senses are much keener than the majority of the other races on Aria. Sensitive hearing was definitely something proving useful at the moment. Listening for the enemy has gotten me out of many tight situations. I didn’t understand their language, the body language they displayed spoke volumes. It looked like they were deciding on how they were going to attack Arianna and me.
“I may be stuck behind you my love, but it doesn’t mean I won’t use my power to help you,” said Arianna, her holy symbol glowing bright. “I call upon the power the Keeper. Aid Wynter in this battle. Help his sword strike true.”
“I’m not sure your God likes me much but I am not so proud to not take any help given,” I said focusing on the ogres below me.
One looked to be more the leader and by his gestures, I was guessing I was right. It looked a little bigger. Ogre leadership wasn’t strategic, usually being haphazard and relying on brute strength to win a fight. Their lack of intelligence was basic but they know how to use force. The whole system of their race was based off this ideology. I would prefer to not have to fight an ogre, let alone more than one, but I knew my magic and speed would win the day. As long as none of them got a hold of me, I would be fine. They could crush my skull if I gave them the chance. I much preferred to separate theirs from their bodies before it happened.
Their armor was makeshift and seemed to have been pieced together from parts they scavenged on other battlefields. The armor was joined together by rotted string and a few other things that I questioned if it was truly string, or part of a former victim. Each one carried a rusty but deadly looking battle-axe, an ogre’s preferred weapon much like the dwarves, but they could forge their own and use them with great skill. Ogres on the other hand stole them and just swung violently at anything moving or they perceived as a victim.
I detected their odor and Arianna gasped as their stench hit our noses. This is one of those times where I wish my human side won out. If it is bad for me, it must be really bad for Arianna and I heard her gag a little. These creatures stunk like a decaying animal on a hot summer day. Ever since their fall from grace, the bath seemed to have missed their basic daily needs. They were the brutes of the world and held contests proving the fact. Their leaders stayed in power by show of force. When you didn’t have brains to lead your people or stay in power, snapping necks usually did the trick. Ogre royalty was based off of strength and the spilling of blood, not by producing an heir to keep the throne.
Thunder shook the heavens causing the ground to shake. I realized this storm was no longer natural. The air reeked of ozone as lightning struck too close for me to be at ease. Someone was nearby and a powerful magic user, the kind who didn’t need help in raising a storm of this intensity. I gripped my sword tightly, waiting for an attack.
“Damn you God of Light. If you are with me, then show it,” I whispered and prepared to unleash magic.
Arianna gasped behind me. She heard my little blasphemous prayer. The ogres rushed toward me and I could feel my body tighten, anticipating the battle. I shifted my stance and waited patiently for the ogres to come for me. The advantage was mine as they had to run up the hill. Sadness filled my heart and my elven side felt sorrowful. I hated conflict, but found myself caught up in its violent grip. My elven blood and my human blood were constantly battling for my sanity and soul. This war seemed like it would utterly destroy me. Every time an elf or human looked at me, I saw it; the look, like a blade in my heart. Sometimes it was a look of disgust for not being pure and other times of fear. My life was in a constant state of battle in the war of acceptance.
Smiling bitterly because I held no joy in this, I reached for the magic inside me again. It thundered inside me, echoing the storm. I rubbed the flat of my blade slowly, calling to mind the words of the spell I needed. Words, both arcane and powerful shot to the surface of my mind and I felt their strength and power as they rolled off my tongue. I pointed my sword down towards the ogres. This was going to hit. I smiled. Magic always makes me smile.
Magic wasn’t just something I did or studied like many other wizards. It was something I was lucky or unlucky to be blessed by the gods with. It was a huge blessing but I also noticed others considered it a curse. To be born with the arcane gift meant naturally being able to channel the magic from within without complex spells and rituals, though learning the other stuff helped out considerably. I could easily wing it when casting a spell but it would be more difficult than actually knowing the spell.
Unlike others gifted with the ability, I had a unique connection to magic itself. My master knew of the connection but never truly explained it as he was usually cryptic which frustrated me as his student. My connection to the arcane ran deep within my soul and flooded my entire being. While many had to coax the spark of magic within them, which I needed to do, I had a river supplying my magic. I still had to make it work like the others but the source I pulled from wasn’t limited. The only thing limiting my magic was how much my body and mind could handle.
I was physically strong for a sorcerer. Most magic users spent their time studying but I insisted on training with my sword and bow like the other warriors serving around me during my apprenticeship. With the added strength, the magic I used still took a heavy toll on me if I used too much at once. It was the life of someone who used magic of any kind. A warrior can’t wield his sword forever. It was the same for me. I had a habit of pushing my limits, limits I realized I should respect, but I wanted to be better than yesterday and the year before.
“Ast tasarak hrynawi alagarak thanu,” I spoke boldly.
The release of magic filled me with a sense of great pleasure and fulfilment. Energy forced itself into my sword, causing my hands and the hilt of the sword to crackle with static. Small sparks danced around my sword’s edge and the air around me became throughout the summoning.
The magic ran through my veins and my heart beat faster. In this moment of casting, it gave me life and sustained my survival. My body became infused with power. Yes, this was a superb feeling.
I stared at the ogres. The sparks on the sword also encircled my eyes. Magic poured over me and I became lost in the fury of the storm, nothing else seen or known.
Anger stimulated my magic, and tapped into something within me. A vortex of arcane power swirled inside of me like a maelstrom of controlled chaos. I tightened the grip on my sword as the magic rose from its channeling. I unleashed the magic with one thought, and it was beautiful.

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