Chương 13: Chapter 12- Steel in the Shadows, Hear my Roar

Continuing onwards Eli passed three more bodies along the way, he did not stop for the first two as the grisly burn wounds to their face and torso clearly showed the cause of death, but he paused at the third as he found the man still writhing on the ground. Eli knelt beside the figure to see if he could help as the wounded man weakly clutched at Eli with his right arm, pleading up at him with desperate eyes.

When Eli spotted the blood pouring from the wide, deep gash across his throat the man was clutching with his left hand Eli knew there was nothing he could do. Both the carotid arteries and his windpipe had been savagely torn open, and with the blood pouring from the wound the man had seconds at best. Elias's face softened as he whispered quietly, "Sorry friend, it looks like it's too late for you."

Eli gripped the man's free hand as panic crossed his face and tears leaked from his eyes as he gargled and gasped, drowning in his own blood. Eli's face hardened as the man let out one last whimpering rattle before his eyes slackened, and Eli's knuckles turned white as he turned, grimly rushing onwards once more.

Elias finally found the source of the clamor and as a precaution took to the trees as he approached the running battle he had been chasing. As he silently padded along the branch he crept towards two figures struggling in the dark, and the thickening canopy of the deep forest blocked the ring light from above.

The first figure cut the outline of a tall man dressed in hooded black leathers with his back to Eli, wielding a dagger in one hand and a hooked sword breaker in the other, facing a woman in dark brown leathers wielding a longsword in a double handed grip. As they clashed the man clearly had the upper hand, deftly deflecting the woman's blows and, outside of a few light cuts to his arms, he seemed fairly unharmed.

The woman on the other hand was clearly worse for wear, heaving for breath with her padded leather armor rent in several places across her torso and limbs and as well as bleeding from at least a dozen shallow cuts.

Given the liberal amount of blood splattered over her armor and face Eli was pretty sure he's found the source of the bodies he came across earlier; and while he's pretty sure he has pieced together the series events well enough from what he has seen so far, he realized sometimes things were not always quite what they seem and he should refrain from jumping in right away.

Both combatants were clearly quite skilled, and they moved with a supernatural speed and grace, striking faster than anyone Eli had ever seen, but it was clear the woman was slowing and the battle would be decided shortly whether he intervened or not. Edging closer, Elias stealthily padded forward trying to get into position above the combatants, only to be surprised to hear the man speak as he approached from above. Eli froze in shock, as in clear English, he heard the man chuckle and shout at the woman.

"You might as well drop that blade, you're not making it out of here and with how much you cost us already I would rather not damage the goods any further."

Catching the longsword in a bind with swordbreaker and the dagger, the man in black pressed forward with a twist, catching the blade on a nearby tree trunk before hauling upwards with a knee to her wrists, breaking the woman's grip leaving the blade embedded in the tree, before kicking out and knocking her clear, grounding her where she could not reach the blade.

She scrambled to her feet and fell into a clearly well practiced stance, her fists up covering her face, elbows tucked, and still heaving for breath and she panted out with a growl.

"Like I'm going to make it easy for you, get over here so I break you like I broke your friends back there." With a snarl the man lunged forward, and while the woman got a few strikes in she had to dodge his blades, and with a flash the hooded man surged into her guard and clipped her in the temple with the butt of the dagger dazing her and knocking the woman to the ground again. The man dropped on top, straddling her chest and pinning her arms, while he sheathed his blades."

Well let's try again, the hard way or the easy way?" With a wild grin and familiar wild manic look in her eyes Eli had only ever seen in his own gaze, she arched back and sprayed bloody spittle at his face cackling with laughter.

"Bring it, little man. Let's see what you got!" The man in black grimaced, "Fucking crazy songborne bitch" and started pummeling her exposed face and torso. Eli raced along the branch figuring he had seen enough, and realized if he was going to step in he would need to be as quick and as lethal as he could be.

Eli dropped into a crouch above the struggling figures, pulled both of his tusk daggers from his belt, and as he lined himself above the pair readying to drop onto the hooded man the woman made eye contact with Eli. Her eyes flung wide open as she gasped, before breaking out into a grin through bloody teeth.

Grinning wildly to match the woman below, time slowed for Eli as he silently dropped on the man below, plunging with both daggers, one into each side of the man's neck before wrapping the man's torso with his legs from behind. As his daggers made contact it took nearly the force of Eli's full weight to break the man's skin, and Eli began furiously pulling the dagger out in a gout of steaming blood before plunging it back in over and over.

With a sense of bewilderment Eli spotted the man's skin writhing in an attempt to close each wound on its own as if he was watching some kind of time lapse body horror. Eli gritted his teeth and growled out.

"Fuck this shit." He began plunging downwards with both daggers as quickly as he could, not stopping when the flesh finally stopped its horrific writhing, but only coming to a halt when the man's neck was nothing but a stringy pile of wet gristle steaming in the cool night air. Standing with a grunt Elias dropped the limp form of the man, and looked over in concern at the woman as she gasped and spasmed.

At least before realizing that she was not choking, or rather that she was choking on laughter with what are probably a few broken ribs. Gasping for breath as she looked up at him as she grunted out.

"Serves that asshole right, now who in the abyss are you?" Thinking back to Earth, the clear cultural and technological gap between them, his miraculous survival, and how to explain everything Eli froze for a moment. Realizing that he had only ever heard of how to handle first contact with an alien from movies, and in the moment he had absolutely no idea what to say. Deciding to wing it and he went with a classic.

"Hello, my name is Elias Mercer, and I come in peace." She looked him up and down taking in his mud streaked, blood soaked form, clutching two handmade bone daggers clearly freshly made dripping with gore, before her gaze landed on his face arching an eyebrow before sputtering and howling with laughter again.

"Sure you do." Elias looked down at the state of his attire and grinned to himself feeling his face heat up at the stupidity of his claim, before looking back at the woman as her laughter trailed off and she promptly fell unconscious.

Astra's POV Astra panted, gasping for breath as she stomped her way clear of the river, her mind racing as her hands shook with exhaustion and the cold. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. She grit her teeth as she stomped towards a suitable pine she had spotted from the river bank, the water dripping from her soaked gambeson.

She ducked under the lowest boughs to find a nice little clear area underneath that would suit her purposes nicely, auburn curls plastered her face, and she wrung what water she could from her loose hair as she kicked at the pine needles below, clearing a patch for a firepit. She dug a small pit in the soft earth, and filled it with a small pile of pine needles, and started collecting loose deadwood from around the massive pine tree. Did not even have time to grab a hair tie.

She sighed at the inane thought, before snapping the branches she collected down to size and building a small stack in the firepit. She stuck a finger under the branches and flexed her will, a small stream of liquid fire leaping from her finger and igniting the kindling. A few obscure gestures later and a roaring fire lit up the improvised shelter, and Astra sat as close as she could hoping to at least ward off some of the chill of the night.

Unbidden, her thoughts returned to earlier in the night, distressing images flashing through her mind as she tried to rub some feeling into her limbs. Flash. Screams in the night as she awoke in her tent, grabbing her sidearm. Flash. Bodies struggling in the dark among the tents, a man falling as a gout of blood sprayed in the air. Flash.

Mira, her stalwart guardian and infallible instructor clutching at a suppression collar, weak as a kitten, being dragged into the trees, screaming for Astra to flee, screaming promises of death and retribution. Flash. A whirl of silver and an arm flew free, followed by a gout of steaming hot blood in the air. It belonged to the third man she cut down. There were so many, too many, the struggling forms were being dragged down, she was alone. Too many to fight alone, Mira's right, I need to run.

Shame burned through her chest. Flash. Running. Rocks scattered beneath her feet, reeds slapped her thighs, breath burned in her lungs, and she ran. In the distance, laughter and the sound of booted feet on riverstone spurned her on. I can do this. Flash. Shame and guilt swirled in her chest, the hymns long silent, and tears threatened to burst forth at her complete and utter failure. Some genius I am grandfather, I can't even fight off a couple bandits on my own.

Astra sighed, the smiling face of her usually stern grandfather filling her memory also filled her spine with steel. She knew what he would say if he was here. The granddaughter of the Lion is no meek kitten. Bare your fangs little one, let them hear you roar. We can not choose our end, but we can choose how we face it. Astra marshalled her thoughts, and a grim resolve settled over her face, as the hymn stirred in her chest.

I need to be fair with myself, there were dozens of bandits, and I am not as strong as Mira, not yet at least. She took a deep breath to steady herself, Let us be about it, what are my assets? No armor, sidearm only, at least I have a longsword and my boots. No food, but the Reach has plenty of beasts and water, so I will not starve.

I need to find help, maybe if I can get to Springdale I c- She froze as she heard a pebble dislodged down by the river, the sound of a faint footstep followed, she rose slowly to a crouch and ducked around the trunk of the tree, silently drawing her blade." Oi! You there little girl? You don't mind if'n we join you by yer fire right?" A man's voice called out, and another man snickered as they had a conversation she couldn't hear.

"Yer all alone out here lady, don't you want to join your friends?" She counted at least four, she had a blade and she had her flames, she could do this. As an arm reached in to sweep aside the branches, a feral grin spread across her face as her heart raced and the hymn in her chest roared forth into a chorus as she severed the arm in a single stroke and booted its former owner backwards in the same movement with a swift kick. Watch me, Grandfather, see my fangs.

Astra's POV For a second time this night Astra found herself gripping a blade in trembling hands underneath the canopy of the Verdant Reach. The count had been five, not four. Shame that I counted wrong, the first four were easy, but I think I'll be lucky to take this bastard with me. The first man bled out quickly once his arm was severed, and her flames caught the next two by surprise, but the leader of the group was a slippery bastard.

She should have been able to take down the fourth man easily, but the leader had some kind of dark affinity that allowed him to slip through shadows with ease, and whenever she fought him off and focused on the last man, he would slip in and strike from an unseen angle. After a prolonged running battle, and setting what felt like half the forest on fire, she was able to get the fourth far enough away from the shadows that she could strike.

She scored a lucky blow across his neck, nearly decapitating the man, but as she turned to her final opponent she realized she had made a critical mistake. He had driven her further and further into the woods, and now that the dense canopy blocked out nearly all the ringlight, and she was surrounded by shadows, it was practically a playground for the man. She begrudgingly granted that her opponent was more cunning than she expected, if exactly as cruel as well.

He used his men to bait out her strength, burning through her mana, and draining her vitality. Her health and mana pool had long ran out, and strength was waning as she bled from a dozen shallow strikes. Her ears ringing and head pounding she could barely hear the man's taunts, but she didn't care, the song was strong in her heart, but her weary limbs were too weak to dance the steps.

A final exchange of blows saw her disarmed and grounded, her limbs leaden and heavy and her head swimming, Mira's disappointed face flitted through her mind and she lurched to her feet coiled into a stance.

"Like I'm going to make it easy for you, get over here so I break you like I broke your friends back there." She fought hard, but without her gauntlets to deflect the blows, bare flesh was a poor match for blades. She was on her back head swimming as the man pinned her to the ground, his taunts sounded like they were coming from underwater, but a flash of her grandfather's face through her mind brought her back to the surface.

As her mind cleared, her heart pounded and the chorus in her chest rose to a fever pitch, her doubts gone as she had stood her ground. Listen closely, grandfather, hear my roar. A feral grin split her face as she sucked in the blood pooling in her mouth and spat it out in a spray while she barked out a laugh.

"Bring it, little man. Let's see what you got!" Her world split asunder in white flashes of pain as blows rained down on her one after the other, her opponent drew back and caught his breath with a sneer, no doubt to prattle on with more inane taunts that he was sure he mistook for witty banter, and as her vision focused a shift of movement up in the canopy caught her attention. What in the deepest Abyss is that?

The form slowly shifted in her mind as she saw the mud and stained clothing, resolving into the figure of a man, barefoot, wearing disheveled clothing coated in muck and debris.

For a moment she questioned if it was a figment of her imagination, one last whimsical thought before she met her end, but then she saw a familiar feral grin, one she had seen before but only in her own reflection, and as she saw him pull two large tusks sharpened into blades from his belt, her eyes widened and the grin on her face spread to match his own.

The feral looking mountain man descended on her attacker like an avenging angel, and with an astonishing fury, plunged his blades into the bastard's neck in a rapid flurry of blows. The chorus in her heart rose to an exultant symphony, and as the stranger's dozens of strikes sprayed her in hot steaming fountains of the final bandit's lifeblood she roared in laughter at the absolute absurdity of her salvation.

In the final moment of her life when all hope had faded, all she could was spit in fury and hope her foe was so dimwitted to get close enough that she could sink her teeth in his throat, the Ancients apparently decided that they had other plans for her. She had always thought those that believed in the old gods were fools, but what else could explain this stroke of luck? All she knew was that in this moment, she knew what it was to be alive, to be wild and free.

Astra wheezed out a few more laughs, her muscles sore and lunged aching as caught her breath and tried to marshall her last bits of sanity. Astra looked up at her savior, and through the mud, blood, and assorted viscera, she was somewhat surprised to find a pair of icy blue eyes in a handsome face, that returned her gaze with an expected intelligence and friendliness.

As he looked down on her coated in the effluvia of battle he should have been fearsome, and she should have been wary, but his smile as he waited for her to catch her breath made her feel warm. It felt like the smile of an old friend, not a complete stranger. She cleared her throat and answered with a pained grunt.

"Serves that asshole right, now who in the abyss are you?" A complex series of expressions crossed his face before he settled back into a smile.

"Hello, my name is Elias Mercer, and I come in peace." It was too much, she couldn't take it, it was a long terrible night, and the blood loss must have eroded what remained of her noble bearing. She snickered to herself before it broke, and she howled with laughter before creaking out through her aching ribs with a groan.

"Sure you do." And she passed out.