Huge thanks to Nick for his help with editing. Enjoy!
ββDettellaββ
Dettella was jostled roughly by the stampede of elven nobles. The wave of panicked people shoving her as she attempted to get back to the rail. She stumbled under the pressing crowd and fell to her knees. Booted feet kicked her and high heeled shoes trampled uncaringly in their frantic search for escape. Forced flat under foot, she did not scream, not even when a particularly sharp heel stabbed through her hand. She forced herself to keep calm as she pulled forth her power in a burst of silver.
A new flurry of sudden yelps and screams echoed around her as she found herself suddenly able to stand again. A break in the crowd had formed around her, like a river flowing around a large stone. She looked around, feeling disoriented. The pains all over her body were steadily vanishing, but she imagined it wouldn't remain that way if she stood there any longer.
"Giela!" She shouted, searching for her handmaiden. "Giela!"
'There!' Dettella thought, seeing the elf standing safely behind the queen. She tried to make her way toward the pair, but already the nobles were growing bolder. They brushed past her more and more closely. The princess managed to make it to the rail of the balcony and searched again for her handmaiden. 'Too far...' She realized, seeing the pair now more than 20 yards upstream.
She glanced at the two for a brief moment. Knowing it would be almost impossible to reach them at this point, she turned her attention to the middle of the grand stadium. Sam stood alone against the transformed mountain elf as it turned from its meal of the forest elf. Her man stood there without a trace of the earlier fear or confusion left in his expression. A manic smile split his face in a way that would've sent a chill up most spines.
Dettella made a decision and nimbly leapt over the railing. She used her magic to bind her feet to the ledge as she landed, preventing an unfortunate slip. Then she slid her hands down the bars of the rail, releasing the binds on her feet to let them hang as her hands came to replace them on the edge. Her arms strained to hold up her weight, so she let herself drop the last six feet to the ground.
She yelped as her right ankle twisted awkwardly, rolling over an abandoned ale bottle. Her power still right at hand, it immediately started mending itself and after only a few seconds she was up once again. She gripped her dress tightly in both hands and began running through the emptying lower seats, uncaring of her torn skirt and the small trickle of blood running down the inside of her legs. In the brief moment she'd been unable to see him Sam had found a thin sword somewhere and had made his way to the other side of the enormous scaranlos.
Then suddenly he was moving with inhuman agility. Her eyes widened as she followed the barely trackable movements. She heard first a loud cracking, then a crunch and tearing sound as he struck twice at the beast's leg. Then the insect spun so fast Sam didn't have time to get out of the way, cleaving his arm straight through his elbow. Sam's magic was out in a blink. But just before his arm could move to reattach, the scaranlos flicked a leg out, and his arm was gone before she could process what had happened.
A blinding light burst from Sam, igniting the entire arena in a swirl of gold and silver. Dettella stumbled and fell as the light rendered her eyes temporarily sightless. She landed on a stone step roughly, feeling a flutter in her stomach as her right hand met empty air. Sam shouted something indistinctly at the elf as she began to tumble down the stairs. After coming to a stop, she waited for the afterimages to fade from her vision. Then, realizing she was at the top of the final set of stairs, she jumped to her feet and started down.
She smothered the fear and worry that threatened to take over. 'Not too fast, falling will only waste time. He needs me!' She told herself as she proceeded to go faster. Mad laughter reverberated unnaturally through the stadium, sending a cold shiver down her back. She was forced to look down to keep her footing as she hurried down the remaining stairs. She heard another crunch, then a shrieking from the great insect. A skittering sound rang out as the scaranlos spun rapidly and caught Sam's side just as Dettella glanced up. It tore its head back viciously, ripping out a chunk of his flesh.
The princess felt a tightness fill her gut upon seeing the gory hole in his side. He roared in pain, and Dettella was forced to look down for a moment. A few seconds later she reached the bottom of the stairs and ran to the railing around the arena. She froze halfway over it as she saw Sam's horrific grin set into a determined, almost resigned, smile. It seemed as though he'd managed to reign in the rabid dog that had risen within him, directing it the way he wanted it to go.
His movements were so precise that for a moment she was lost in the flow of his body. The mountain elf lunged for him gnashing wildly, yellow ichor spraying from its eye. She saw him breathe deeply, then let it out as he fell backward. Her eyes widened in complete amazement as he thrust the short sword upward, skewering the beast's head with perfect accuracy.
The scaranlos fell heavily atop him, crushing him beneath its heavy abdomen. That jolted Dettella back into motion. She landed on the ground awkwardly, stumbling forward as she tried to stay on her feet. Then she was running, completely closed off to everything around her, not even noticing the half-elf guardsman as he fell into stride beside her.
She ran around the massive carcass, examining it quickly. 'There.' She thought, picking out the best place to set her bind for leverage. She placed a loose bind from the scaranlos' right side to the stone floor, then ran around again, placing a second bind on the opposite side. Instead of binding the left side to the floor she let more power flow out, creating a string of silver whorls as thin as sewing thread.
She circled back to the beast's right side and connected her thread to the floor, six feet away. On her knees, she took a deep breath, bracing herself. Then let it out in a rush as she flared her magic.
The single, thin string of silver grew to the size of a spear shaft. New threads burst outward, spinning and swirling around the original. The still twitching corpse of the mountain elf flipped over with a loud crunch as parts of its carapace cracked. The thought that she could have used much less magic and accomplished the same result didn't even occur to her.
For a small moment, the amount of power she'd pulled into herself found no place to go. Her magic just managed to mar her face with a distorted smile before she could release it completely. She stood too quickly. Dizziness threatened to buckle her legs beneath her, but she somehow kept her feet. Her mind whirled with horrid images of what Sam's condition might be. 'Is he gone? No... No, he can't be! He promised to tell me more about himself! You can't be dead! I want to be closer to you! I... I...'
Her vision shimmered with tears, obscuring her sight of him at first. When she saw his body, she let out an involuntary gasp. His nose was broken, and his chest was collapsed. The gaping wound in his right side bled into a crimson pool beneath him. He wasn't breathing. Thousands of thoughts slid around the polished walls of her mind, each one seemed to be heavily greased as she couldn't manage to hold a single one. Suddenly, his chest slowly began to rise.
'Breathing...?' She managed to grip a thought for a second, before it slipped from her hands. No, he still wasn't breathing. Then his nose snapped back into place. 'What...?' Based on what she was had seen before, Sam's familiar gold and silver spirals should have been glowing on his skin, but there was nothing.
She blinked away her tears, looking closer. 'There...!' Flickers of silvery blue skittered across his skin, slowly putting him back together. For a moment she just gaped. Forcing her mouth to close, she hurried to close the last few steps between them. She tried to kneel, but ended up falling heavily to her knees. Finally, she gingerly pressed her hands to his bare, scarred chest.
His magnificent gold and silver forms flowered in her mind, the calm waves seeming to lap at her own moonlight silver forms. Floating in the rippling waters was a vague humanoid shape of light blue. It looked up at her, blinking empty eye sockets. Unspeaking, the shape flourished a hand. For a moment Dettella didn't understand the gesture, too fascinated with its structure. It resembled a skeleton that had been clumsily wrapped in blue wire, giving only a vague, disproportionate idea of size and shape.
It pointed to her, slowly tilting its head, then to the gradually stagnating waters. It gave an almost lethargic gesture to hurry. She understood this time, turning her focus back to Sam. She brought out her magic, letting it flow through her body before directing it into Sam. Her power engulfed him in a silver cocoon. His chest popped back into its natural position beneath her fingers, his nose straightened, and his blood began to stream back into his side.
His breathing resumed, laboriously, but at least it was there. An eternity seemed to pass as she sat there, just maintaining her magic. Someone appeared to be trying to talk to her but she couldn't find the energy to listen. She just watched in morbid fascination as Sam's blood trickled out, spilling over his exposed ribs, then streaming upward and back into his flesh. Suddenly there was plaster and splintered wood falling around her, and she spared a glance backward.
Her eyes moved just in time to see an immense figure of gray land among the splintered wreckage of the wall. It was Letta, her corded muscles rippling visibly beneath her fur. She roared deafeningly, spittle flying from her perilously sharp teeth, sending the half-elf guardsman scurrying away. The great argwolf towered over them, radiating rage as she made her way to Dettella and Sam in a single bound over the rowed seats.
Her fierce expression dared the appearing guards to test her patience. Standing over the pair, Letta disdainfully stomped the dead mountain elf. Its underside cracked and crunched beneath her paw, spraying yellowish ichor from between fractured plates. Despite the problems this might cause later, the princess was relieved to see Letta again.
Dettella waited, knowing that someone would come to heal Sam. The queen would surely send someone. 'I mean, she has to, right?' The princess looked around, searching for a healer. It was it seemed hours passed before the queen finally arrived. 'No, only minutes...' She corrected, shaking her head in a futile attempt to bring herself out of her stupor.
The queen raised a calm hand to Letta, nodding reassuringly, and the argwolf's thundering growl silenced. Letta did not move from her position above Sam, but she allowed the queen to come near. As she approached, Dettella noticed the haggard lines around Elleifren's eyes. Despite that, the queen of the elves held herself as if she was perfectly composed.
Somewhere in her mind, the princess found room to be impressed. The fact that she was able to keep herself collected in the situation was amazing.
"You can relax, dear. I will heal him." Elleifren said, kneeling next to her.
The princess blinked, realizing her entire body had been tightly knotted with anxiety. "A-Ah, yes..." She replied hollowly, trying unsuccessfully to loosen her tensed muscles.
"Please calm yourself, it will only make it more difficult for me with you so panicked right next to me." This time the queen's voice had a slight edge to it. Letta rumbled discontentedly above them. Elleifren looked up to the looming figure with a sigh. "Yes, I understand. I should watch my tongue. That's what you are telling me, yes?"