Lael
01-04-09, 03:06PM
Graham watched the forest race by as they charged down game trails. The woods were beyond anything he had experienced in his own world. Despite the weakness of life currently showing, the trees and plant-life all held a remarkable vibrancy that drew the eye. They seemed more real somehow than he could explain. It made their current state all the more horrifying. Where there should be richness and fullness there was instead signs of dying and thinning luster. The continuous random cycling through the seasons was taking its toll.
During their night rest stops, Ecne had been teaching Graham a bit about how the magic of the realm worked. Graham was fascinated by Othersight and what it showed him about the energy of the land. Once it was invoked that first time, it tended to color his sight even when released now. Ecne explained that it was likely Graham would need to keep working in the same way he had already established. It wasn’t likely he would ever accomplish any effects purely by will alone as most in the realm could. Even the Elders sometimes used full verbal spells that sounded much like poetry for major magics.
These practice sessions also gave Ecne much more insight into the workings of energy, land and how Graham was able to do as much as he could. He was certain that something else was different about the mortal now. His control of the magic was much easier than before. And the sub-dermal glow was still there as well, even allowing for the massive amounts of energy flowing away from him toward the barrier rift. He pondered Graham’s ‘improvement’ carefully as he watched Aongas and Graham interact while they rode.
Ecne’s eyes widened as he latched onto a particular thought. Graham was a physical being having a corporeal form. Aongas was an energy being, essentially, only using a corporeal form for convenience just as Ecne and the other Sidhé did. While comfortable in the physical world, it really wasn’t their natural state. The exchange of energy through love-making was evident in Graham’s glow. Their contact was having an unexpected side benefit for Graham. This was how he was able to work with the energy of the realm. Ecne decided to say nothing of this to the other two. It wasn’t necessary and might actually hamper Graham’s efforts to work with the magic. He might need that advantage before getting to the end of this road they traveled. The thought pleased Ecne. Knowledge for its own sake was always a good thing and Ecne couldn’t help his nature. Just because he knew a thing did not mean he had to share it unless asked.
Graham was enchanted by all that he was learning and seeing. He hoped it would carry over into his world as well. The mingling of esoteric with his knowledge of science was giving him a new appreciation of the possible. He was sure that he would eventually be able to understand the rules of his own world better in time. He suspected that even the laws of Tir Na nOg followed a slantwise physics. His one regret was that he had to leave so soon. While he was here only a couple of weeks, he did not want to lose his life’s place in his own world.
Half remembered tales of those staying too long among the Sidhé were surfacing at the back of his mind. He doubted most of the folk tales, especially about eating faerie food. According to the old tales, he should be unable to return to his world just based on that alone. Yet both Aongas and Ecne scoffed and laughed when he brought up the point. Ecne pointed out that it was more likely that the food was plentiful here and often lacking in the mortal world of old. Naturally, going from as much as a soul could want to having to struggle for a stale crust would persuade many a mortal to remain rather than return. It was also a good tale to keep the curious away, no doubt put about by clergy to keep their flock from wandering too far from home and deity.
“Ok, so the food bit is a bit of bullshit. What about the time differential? Is that? How much time is passing back home?” Graham asked.
“Time runs differently here. It varies from person to person that crosses the barrier. For some, it may be that they arrive back immediately after they left. For others, weeks or months or years or, rarely, centuries will pass though hours or days pass here. We have never concerned ourselves much with it. This is our home and we do not venture across the barrier without purpose these days. And there just is not much interesting on that side, save people that manage to catch our attention,” explained Ecne with an amused glance at Aongas.
“Those that returned out of their time usually did so by accident. When returned by one of the Sidhé, they did not have such difficulties. I can make sure you return seconds after you left. It is not a problem,” Aongas assured Graham while pointedly ignoring Ecne’s barb.
“That’s good. I would hate for my family to worry that I’ve been gone so long. And it wouldn’t help my classes any either to just go missing for a couple of weeks. All of that effort, wasted!” Graham shuddered at the thought.
“Nay, I would see to it myself. Learning is a precious thing, a treasure as great as any mere shiny metal or polished jewel. That much heritage we still share between us, mo chara,” said Ecne.
They rode on knowing the end of the journey was not far off. Ecne was deeply concerned that Morrigan had not shown herself again at their backs. He knew she would not let Graham escape so easily. Amadan could only occupy her for so long before she would find a way to sidestep out of his clutches. An urgency weighed heavily on him that their time was slipping away far faster than they knew.
Ecne brooded on the message brought just before dawn by the owl. Morrigan had laid a trap for them but the Elders were countering it. It would take careful management and caution to get around it. He planned on having them dismount once they heard the sounds of battle and would carefully move on the extreme edges of it to get by. Riding would make too much of a target of them and might also cover the sounds that would guide them away from it.
***
Dagda strode to the hearth in the Halla na Rí. Lugh waited there for him, loath to take up arms before him. The final preparations were completed and the various armies ready for battle. Only transporting them to where Brighid divined was left. Dagda reached out his huge had for Claíomh Solais, Nuada’s sword. Lugh bowed to the sword and to Spear Luin, treasures of the Sidhé. It was a measure of how seriously Dagda took this coming battle that these ultimate weapons would now be lifted from the resting places. Rare were the times when this happened and always with great consequence. The sword that could not be stood against and the spear that brought victory to its holder. Potent powers and all the more so when taken into battle alongside Amadan-na-Briona, whom none can oppose. Morrigan would have her hands full this day and scant hope of battlefield victory.
“Lugh, do whatever you must to guide the battle. With the spear in hand, your guidance will shield us all. I will focus on keeping myself between that black hearted harridan Morrigan and the mortal. Between Amadan and myself, she will be hard pressed to continue on,” directed Dagda.
“As you command, mo Ri. Still, she is the Queen of Battles. Like as not, she knows what we are about. She will have plotted another way to reach her goals besides a straight out fight, no matter the temptation to join in,” cautioned Lugh.
“Aye, like as not. But we must play it out regardless. Do your best to keep our people safe,” answered Dagda with a sigh. The betrayal still stung his honor and the very life of the realm was bleeding away. All for the sake of power.
They hefted their respective weapons into comfortable positions and walked from the hall together. Outside were gathered those of the people that would fight this day. Young, old, men and women, all were prepared to oppose Morrigan and give the mortal his chance at life. All of their honor was forfeit to shame if the last resort of the mortal’s death had to be used. While he was an outsider, he was yet a guest of their own Aongas whom they loved dearly.
Dagda raised Claíomh Solais into the morning sun and the people roared. Light glittered along its length, throwing back far more than was reflected from the sun. It’s presence brought confidence to the army and assurance that the day would be won. As Lugh raised his spear to join the sword, the people roared again with chants of Dagda and Lugh’s titles. Dagda grinned proudly at his people and shouted the command to march. A huge portal of swirling energy appeared before them and they ran toward it. Dagda and Lugh raced through, leading the army to its appointed battle.
***
Morrigan surveyed her massed troops and was satisfied. The fools would arrive shortly with the sun leaving the horizon in the East. She felt a sense of anticipation for the event. Long had it been since a truly grand battle rung with metal on metal and bodies straining for dominance. Her blood coursed through her veins as it had not in long centuries. If nothing else, this alone made her efforts worth the trouble. The spirits of the dead and soulless bodies were tightly packed in the clearing. She gave her last orders before fading back into the edge of the woods bordering the huge clearing. Her plans did not include partaking of the fight just yet. Her foes had too many advantages.
As she watched, great circles of light appeared all around the edges of the clearing. Troops of dryads, Lurikeen, flower faeries and immortals came spilling out and into instant battle with hers. Morrigan howled, signaling her troops to begin cutting down the newcomers. Then she took off toward the southeast. She wanted to reach the barrier before the others. This battle was only a decoy to occupy the other Elders and keep them from her back as she retook the mortal. Her war chariot wove between the trees and soon even the sound of metal on metal and the cries of the living were far behind her.
***
Dagda was appalled at the force arrayed on the miniature plain at the center of the forest they arrived at. He had understood what they were likely to be, given Morrigan’s position as keeper of battle and death. Still, it was a chilling sight, all of the spirits and undead flesh that fought without sound or passion. Battles were by nature noisy and blood rage was part of the joy of fighting. Another difference was that this army of the dead would not accept surrender. They fought to kill, by order of their queen, and with the limitless energy of the dead. Exhaustion was not a factor for them, unlike his troops.
Lugh had things well in hand, directing the ebb and flow of the battle. Reserves came in and the wearied retreated under their cover. The chaos on the plain held an order than an experienced campaigner could keep track of and manipulate. The heavily wounded were escorted off the field by the more able and Dagda was pleased to see the healers keeping pace. The forces were even for the moment.
Assured that all was well, Dagda began seeking Morrigan. He assumed she would keep close track of her army and their progress. Dagda frowned as he slowly realized she was nowhere to be found. Sweeping some skeletal Fear Dearg that blocked his path into splintered and scattered piles, he scanned the edges of the battle. Given the nature of fighting, unless he could raise himself above it, little could be seen beyond the mass of flailing bodies.
He hoped the boys had received his return message from the owl about this ambush. The last thing they needed was to run smack into the middle of it. Dagda rather doubted the mortal would survive the swing of a single sword nor the mauling of natural weaponry of the non-humanoid undead. Grimacing, he turned aside the blow of a Fomorian zombie with Claíomh Solais. The weapon hummed in his hand and the shriek of metal stressed beyond its ability rose briefly above the din of fighting. Shards of sword fell to the ground. Dagda flicked aside the stump of metal the Fomorian continued to assault him with. Five blows and the creature was in parts on the ground.
Dagda’s lips were in a tight line as he watched little knots of fighting weaving among the edges of the forest. There were simply too many to be contained on the plain. It made it more likely the boys would be spotted if they strayed too close. Dagda looked around for Lugh but could not find him readily. The tides of battle were simply too chaotic. Amadan should be out there somewhere by now. The thought was not reassuring for the King of all the Sidhé.
***
Graham found himself stunned by the hellish scene before him. His legs quit moving and he was nearly knocked over by the men behind him. Graham's stomach lurched and twisted into a hot compressed knot at the same time his throat closed tight. He stood staring, his eyes wide with purest horror. Screams and screeching metal, cracking bone and all the other accompaniments of battle crashed against his ears.
Only now, in this moment, did Graham truly understand. This was all about him. People and creatures, living, dead and undead were battling because of him. Bile rose from his frantic stomach into the narrow passage of his closed throat. Creatures were dying because of him. Possibly people he had met at Cathair Crofhind were meeting a bloody end somewhere out on that plain. His mind shrunk from that thought. His eyes flickered from place to place, trying to really understand what he was seeing.
The scent of blood, urine and feces blew directly into his face with the slight breeze sweeping from the plain. The stench of decaying flesh and rotting vegetation added to the potent miasma. Nothing could have prepared Graham for it. The goriest movie and most vivid scenes were all sanitized bits of nothing compared to the reality of war seen firsthand. Video games glorying the sword and killing simply had no basis in reality. Graham had a fleeting thought concerning violence and war as entertainment on a screen but he shoved it aside for later.
Elementals clashed; fire chasing wind, water drowning earth. It appeared that every living creature of the realm was striking out against hordes of dead beings and skeletal warriors. Even Amadan's insane legions fought now against the tide of shifting death. Graham watched a malformed giant systematically break all of the bones of a skeleton of matching size. All the while, the skeleton slashed its bony fingers into its opponent's flesh, leaving furrows that wept endless blood on those below them. It only stopped once the living giant finally tore the limbs from the skeleton in order to use them to beat it down. In a fury, the giant did its best to pound the bones to dust until it was engaged by another in the unending battle. That was only one set of combatants that caught Graham's horrified attention.
Tears of horror and grief flowed unnoticed down Graham’s cheeks. He watched a sylph spin debris in a blur of wind against a spirit. It did no harm o it as the spirit clutched immaterial fingers around her own ethereal throat. As she died, the sylph lost control of her little whirlwind and the rocks and sticks fell once more to the ground. As she dissipated, the specter moved on, seeking another opponent. A swarm of Lurikeen ganged up on a Fir Bolg zombie. They carefully broke the bones of it limbs and then its skull. Once it ceased moving, they too moved on.
"Come, chara, we must get you away from here. No doubt, if the dead sense you, all will be lost. They will throw themselves upon us without end and our enemy shall triumph. I have little desire to allow that. All those here battle now to see you safely on your way and into your own world. Let not their sacrifice be as naught," murmured Ecne at Graham's side. Unable to speak, Graham nodded. Aongas pointed the way along the edge of the woods and as far from the battlefield as possible. Taking Graham’s hand, Aongas squeezed gently as he led the way. The suffering he was going through pained Aongas and Ecne. While they might be used to the reality of battle, the mortal was not.
Flitting in and out among the trees, they stole as carefully as possible onward. The sound of the battle was maddening. Somehow they kept from being found. At one point, the trees themselves tore themselves from the ground and moved out toward the plain. Graham shuddered as he watched them hacked to bits within moments. But it had been enough to get them toward their goal. It took half the day to skirt the plain and now they would flee to their destination.
As the last sounds of battle faded into the distance, they remounted the horses. It was safe enough since most creatures, living and dead, for miles around were involved in the battle. There should have been nothing left to oppose them or aid them on this last leg of the journey. Graham found the silence of the forest eerie after the roar. And he was immensely grateful for the fresh and potent scent of the flowers and trees. Riding through a patch of springtime cleansed his lungs and nose of the horrific smells from the morning.
During their night rest stops, Ecne had been teaching Graham a bit about how the magic of the realm worked. Graham was fascinated by Othersight and what it showed him about the energy of the land. Once it was invoked that first time, it tended to color his sight even when released now. Ecne explained that it was likely Graham would need to keep working in the same way he had already established. It wasn’t likely he would ever accomplish any effects purely by will alone as most in the realm could. Even the Elders sometimes used full verbal spells that sounded much like poetry for major magics.
These practice sessions also gave Ecne much more insight into the workings of energy, land and how Graham was able to do as much as he could. He was certain that something else was different about the mortal now. His control of the magic was much easier than before. And the sub-dermal glow was still there as well, even allowing for the massive amounts of energy flowing away from him toward the barrier rift. He pondered Graham’s ‘improvement’ carefully as he watched Aongas and Graham interact while they rode.
Ecne’s eyes widened as he latched onto a particular thought. Graham was a physical being having a corporeal form. Aongas was an energy being, essentially, only using a corporeal form for convenience just as Ecne and the other Sidhé did. While comfortable in the physical world, it really wasn’t their natural state. The exchange of energy through love-making was evident in Graham’s glow. Their contact was having an unexpected side benefit for Graham. This was how he was able to work with the energy of the realm. Ecne decided to say nothing of this to the other two. It wasn’t necessary and might actually hamper Graham’s efforts to work with the magic. He might need that advantage before getting to the end of this road they traveled. The thought pleased Ecne. Knowledge for its own sake was always a good thing and Ecne couldn’t help his nature. Just because he knew a thing did not mean he had to share it unless asked.
Graham was enchanted by all that he was learning and seeing. He hoped it would carry over into his world as well. The mingling of esoteric with his knowledge of science was giving him a new appreciation of the possible. He was sure that he would eventually be able to understand the rules of his own world better in time. He suspected that even the laws of Tir Na nOg followed a slantwise physics. His one regret was that he had to leave so soon. While he was here only a couple of weeks, he did not want to lose his life’s place in his own world.
Half remembered tales of those staying too long among the Sidhé were surfacing at the back of his mind. He doubted most of the folk tales, especially about eating faerie food. According to the old tales, he should be unable to return to his world just based on that alone. Yet both Aongas and Ecne scoffed and laughed when he brought up the point. Ecne pointed out that it was more likely that the food was plentiful here and often lacking in the mortal world of old. Naturally, going from as much as a soul could want to having to struggle for a stale crust would persuade many a mortal to remain rather than return. It was also a good tale to keep the curious away, no doubt put about by clergy to keep their flock from wandering too far from home and deity.
“Ok, so the food bit is a bit of bullshit. What about the time differential? Is that? How much time is passing back home?” Graham asked.
“Time runs differently here. It varies from person to person that crosses the barrier. For some, it may be that they arrive back immediately after they left. For others, weeks or months or years or, rarely, centuries will pass though hours or days pass here. We have never concerned ourselves much with it. This is our home and we do not venture across the barrier without purpose these days. And there just is not much interesting on that side, save people that manage to catch our attention,” explained Ecne with an amused glance at Aongas.
“Those that returned out of their time usually did so by accident. When returned by one of the Sidhé, they did not have such difficulties. I can make sure you return seconds after you left. It is not a problem,” Aongas assured Graham while pointedly ignoring Ecne’s barb.
“That’s good. I would hate for my family to worry that I’ve been gone so long. And it wouldn’t help my classes any either to just go missing for a couple of weeks. All of that effort, wasted!” Graham shuddered at the thought.
“Nay, I would see to it myself. Learning is a precious thing, a treasure as great as any mere shiny metal or polished jewel. That much heritage we still share between us, mo chara,” said Ecne.
They rode on knowing the end of the journey was not far off. Ecne was deeply concerned that Morrigan had not shown herself again at their backs. He knew she would not let Graham escape so easily. Amadan could only occupy her for so long before she would find a way to sidestep out of his clutches. An urgency weighed heavily on him that their time was slipping away far faster than they knew.
Ecne brooded on the message brought just before dawn by the owl. Morrigan had laid a trap for them but the Elders were countering it. It would take careful management and caution to get around it. He planned on having them dismount once they heard the sounds of battle and would carefully move on the extreme edges of it to get by. Riding would make too much of a target of them and might also cover the sounds that would guide them away from it.
***
Dagda strode to the hearth in the Halla na Rí. Lugh waited there for him, loath to take up arms before him. The final preparations were completed and the various armies ready for battle. Only transporting them to where Brighid divined was left. Dagda reached out his huge had for Claíomh Solais, Nuada’s sword. Lugh bowed to the sword and to Spear Luin, treasures of the Sidhé. It was a measure of how seriously Dagda took this coming battle that these ultimate weapons would now be lifted from the resting places. Rare were the times when this happened and always with great consequence. The sword that could not be stood against and the spear that brought victory to its holder. Potent powers and all the more so when taken into battle alongside Amadan-na-Briona, whom none can oppose. Morrigan would have her hands full this day and scant hope of battlefield victory.
“Lugh, do whatever you must to guide the battle. With the spear in hand, your guidance will shield us all. I will focus on keeping myself between that black hearted harridan Morrigan and the mortal. Between Amadan and myself, she will be hard pressed to continue on,” directed Dagda.
“As you command, mo Ri. Still, she is the Queen of Battles. Like as not, she knows what we are about. She will have plotted another way to reach her goals besides a straight out fight, no matter the temptation to join in,” cautioned Lugh.
“Aye, like as not. But we must play it out regardless. Do your best to keep our people safe,” answered Dagda with a sigh. The betrayal still stung his honor and the very life of the realm was bleeding away. All for the sake of power.
They hefted their respective weapons into comfortable positions and walked from the hall together. Outside were gathered those of the people that would fight this day. Young, old, men and women, all were prepared to oppose Morrigan and give the mortal his chance at life. All of their honor was forfeit to shame if the last resort of the mortal’s death had to be used. While he was an outsider, he was yet a guest of their own Aongas whom they loved dearly.
Dagda raised Claíomh Solais into the morning sun and the people roared. Light glittered along its length, throwing back far more than was reflected from the sun. It’s presence brought confidence to the army and assurance that the day would be won. As Lugh raised his spear to join the sword, the people roared again with chants of Dagda and Lugh’s titles. Dagda grinned proudly at his people and shouted the command to march. A huge portal of swirling energy appeared before them and they ran toward it. Dagda and Lugh raced through, leading the army to its appointed battle.
***
Morrigan surveyed her massed troops and was satisfied. The fools would arrive shortly with the sun leaving the horizon in the East. She felt a sense of anticipation for the event. Long had it been since a truly grand battle rung with metal on metal and bodies straining for dominance. Her blood coursed through her veins as it had not in long centuries. If nothing else, this alone made her efforts worth the trouble. The spirits of the dead and soulless bodies were tightly packed in the clearing. She gave her last orders before fading back into the edge of the woods bordering the huge clearing. Her plans did not include partaking of the fight just yet. Her foes had too many advantages.
As she watched, great circles of light appeared all around the edges of the clearing. Troops of dryads, Lurikeen, flower faeries and immortals came spilling out and into instant battle with hers. Morrigan howled, signaling her troops to begin cutting down the newcomers. Then she took off toward the southeast. She wanted to reach the barrier before the others. This battle was only a decoy to occupy the other Elders and keep them from her back as she retook the mortal. Her war chariot wove between the trees and soon even the sound of metal on metal and the cries of the living were far behind her.
***
Dagda was appalled at the force arrayed on the miniature plain at the center of the forest they arrived at. He had understood what they were likely to be, given Morrigan’s position as keeper of battle and death. Still, it was a chilling sight, all of the spirits and undead flesh that fought without sound or passion. Battles were by nature noisy and blood rage was part of the joy of fighting. Another difference was that this army of the dead would not accept surrender. They fought to kill, by order of their queen, and with the limitless energy of the dead. Exhaustion was not a factor for them, unlike his troops.
Lugh had things well in hand, directing the ebb and flow of the battle. Reserves came in and the wearied retreated under their cover. The chaos on the plain held an order than an experienced campaigner could keep track of and manipulate. The heavily wounded were escorted off the field by the more able and Dagda was pleased to see the healers keeping pace. The forces were even for the moment.
Assured that all was well, Dagda began seeking Morrigan. He assumed she would keep close track of her army and their progress. Dagda frowned as he slowly realized she was nowhere to be found. Sweeping some skeletal Fear Dearg that blocked his path into splintered and scattered piles, he scanned the edges of the battle. Given the nature of fighting, unless he could raise himself above it, little could be seen beyond the mass of flailing bodies.
He hoped the boys had received his return message from the owl about this ambush. The last thing they needed was to run smack into the middle of it. Dagda rather doubted the mortal would survive the swing of a single sword nor the mauling of natural weaponry of the non-humanoid undead. Grimacing, he turned aside the blow of a Fomorian zombie with Claíomh Solais. The weapon hummed in his hand and the shriek of metal stressed beyond its ability rose briefly above the din of fighting. Shards of sword fell to the ground. Dagda flicked aside the stump of metal the Fomorian continued to assault him with. Five blows and the creature was in parts on the ground.
Dagda’s lips were in a tight line as he watched little knots of fighting weaving among the edges of the forest. There were simply too many to be contained on the plain. It made it more likely the boys would be spotted if they strayed too close. Dagda looked around for Lugh but could not find him readily. The tides of battle were simply too chaotic. Amadan should be out there somewhere by now. The thought was not reassuring for the King of all the Sidhé.
***
Graham found himself stunned by the hellish scene before him. His legs quit moving and he was nearly knocked over by the men behind him. Graham's stomach lurched and twisted into a hot compressed knot at the same time his throat closed tight. He stood staring, his eyes wide with purest horror. Screams and screeching metal, cracking bone and all the other accompaniments of battle crashed against his ears.
Only now, in this moment, did Graham truly understand. This was all about him. People and creatures, living, dead and undead were battling because of him. Bile rose from his frantic stomach into the narrow passage of his closed throat. Creatures were dying because of him. Possibly people he had met at Cathair Crofhind were meeting a bloody end somewhere out on that plain. His mind shrunk from that thought. His eyes flickered from place to place, trying to really understand what he was seeing.
The scent of blood, urine and feces blew directly into his face with the slight breeze sweeping from the plain. The stench of decaying flesh and rotting vegetation added to the potent miasma. Nothing could have prepared Graham for it. The goriest movie and most vivid scenes were all sanitized bits of nothing compared to the reality of war seen firsthand. Video games glorying the sword and killing simply had no basis in reality. Graham had a fleeting thought concerning violence and war as entertainment on a screen but he shoved it aside for later.
Elementals clashed; fire chasing wind, water drowning earth. It appeared that every living creature of the realm was striking out against hordes of dead beings and skeletal warriors. Even Amadan's insane legions fought now against the tide of shifting death. Graham watched a malformed giant systematically break all of the bones of a skeleton of matching size. All the while, the skeleton slashed its bony fingers into its opponent's flesh, leaving furrows that wept endless blood on those below them. It only stopped once the living giant finally tore the limbs from the skeleton in order to use them to beat it down. In a fury, the giant did its best to pound the bones to dust until it was engaged by another in the unending battle. That was only one set of combatants that caught Graham's horrified attention.
Tears of horror and grief flowed unnoticed down Graham’s cheeks. He watched a sylph spin debris in a blur of wind against a spirit. It did no harm o it as the spirit clutched immaterial fingers around her own ethereal throat. As she died, the sylph lost control of her little whirlwind and the rocks and sticks fell once more to the ground. As she dissipated, the specter moved on, seeking another opponent. A swarm of Lurikeen ganged up on a Fir Bolg zombie. They carefully broke the bones of it limbs and then its skull. Once it ceased moving, they too moved on.
"Come, chara, we must get you away from here. No doubt, if the dead sense you, all will be lost. They will throw themselves upon us without end and our enemy shall triumph. I have little desire to allow that. All those here battle now to see you safely on your way and into your own world. Let not their sacrifice be as naught," murmured Ecne at Graham's side. Unable to speak, Graham nodded. Aongas pointed the way along the edge of the woods and as far from the battlefield as possible. Taking Graham’s hand, Aongas squeezed gently as he led the way. The suffering he was going through pained Aongas and Ecne. While they might be used to the reality of battle, the mortal was not.
Flitting in and out among the trees, they stole as carefully as possible onward. The sound of the battle was maddening. Somehow they kept from being found. At one point, the trees themselves tore themselves from the ground and moved out toward the plain. Graham shuddered as he watched them hacked to bits within moments. But it had been enough to get them toward their goal. It took half the day to skirt the plain and now they would flee to their destination.
As the last sounds of battle faded into the distance, they remounted the horses. It was safe enough since most creatures, living and dead, for miles around were involved in the battle. There should have been nothing left to oppose them or aid them on this last leg of the journey. Graham found the silence of the forest eerie after the roar. And he was immensely grateful for the fresh and potent scent of the flowers and trees. Riding through a patch of springtime cleansed his lungs and nose of the horrific smells from the morning.