Lyre of Tears Ch. 03: Hide the Fairy

"My Lord!" As though she were summoned by his memories, Bethe appeared at his side. She grabbed him by his rich purple cloak - now covered in dirt - and pulled him away from the fighting. It felt odd being dragged along the ground like a sack of garbage, but given the circumstances Tor thought it best not to complain.

"Who's attacking us?" Tor asked as Bethe dragged him off the road.

"Orcs!" Bethe replied right before she shouted orders to the soldiers. "SHIELDS!" Her voice - clear as a temple bell - rang out above the frantic sounds of combat. "Shields! Protect our Lord!"

Armed with spears and tall, rectangular shields painted gold, the men and women of Tor's royal guard followed their captain's commands and assumed a defensive formation between their lord and the orcs that came howling out of the forest. Shoulder-to-shoulder and shield-to-shield, they created a wall that the orcs would need to break through before any more blood could be shed.

Bethe deposited Tor behind a tree, which he sat up against. Taking his face between her hands, she inspected the wound on his forehead. She also checked out his eyes. "How do you feel?"

"Confused and angry." He used his sleeve to wipe the blood off his eyelid. Blinking, he was relieved to discover his sight seemed fine.

After Tor's mind had some time to clear up, he remembered what happened:

He was riding atop Majestic, his favorite steed. Bethe, who was scouting ahead, suddenly turned her horse around and rode back toward the rest of the group. He heard her shout a warning - "To arms!" - right as a huge rock soared over the trees and arced downward toward his face.

Tor used his enchanted belt to conjure a barrier of energy just in time to deflect the rock. But it must have been hurled with such force that it knocked him out despite his mystical protection.

Snapping out of the memory, Tor looked Bethe in the eye. "Where's Majestic?"

"I saw her run off. We'll find her later, my Lord. For now, we have more pressing matters to attend to." Standing, Bethe drew her broadsword and scanned the area.

Tor was already fairly certain he knew who was responsible for sending these orcs after them. Scowling, he got to his feet.

"There's no sense in sitting in the shade all day." Following a quick series of complicated hand gestures, the mage's hands became enveloped in mystical energy. Lightning coiled around his left hand and forearm, while his right hand got surrounded by a visible, humming pulse. The rings on both of his ring fingers glowed.

"Let's get out there!"

With Bethe at his side, the Mage Lord of Agisgrad charged out of cover to join his soldiers in battle.

The royal guard was doing more than holding their own against the orcs, who looked like hairless, tusked, well-armed apes. Stocky, gray-green bodies slammed against shields or got impaled on set spears, but the shield wall held firm. Axes with serrated blades, clubs that were too big for an average human to lift, and even bare fists crashed against the shields. One man cried out in pain. But still, the shield wall held, firm.

For this excursion, Tor brought over two dozen guards with him, plus Bethe, their commander. There were at least twice as many orcs trying to break their line. But the soldiers of Agisgrad were not only well-trained, they were also equipped with the best magically-enhanced gear that the barony's Mage Collective could create. Forty or fifty orcs were no problem for them.

That didn't mean Tor wouldn't help, though. His head hurt, he was pissed off, and he intended to vent his anger by killing a bunch of these damnable orcs.

"Praev!" The royal purple cloak around the wizard's shoulders activated. Taking telepathic control of it, Tor commanded it to lift him up into the air. He levitated high above his soldiers while Bethe ran up behind them to coordinate their efforts. From the air, he saw that some of the orcs were attempting to run around the shield wall, perhaps even flank it. Obviously, he wasn't going to allow that to happen.

White lightning shot out of his left hand and struck one of the orcs in the chest, frying it to a crisp in seconds. It was dead before its body toppled to the dirt. Another bolt streaked from his palm, this one striking the ground and causing an explosion powerful enough to hurl the nearest orcs off their feet. Like a god of storms unleashing his wrath upon earthbound mortals, the wizard fired off bolt after crackling bolt, each one causing an orc to fall or multiple orcs to fly.

Tor flew forward, toward the forest from which more screaming orcs rushed out. Thrusting his right hand out, he sent a nearly invisible wave of concussive force directly at them. Amidst the deafening sound of thunder, the wave crashed into multiple enemies, sending them soaring back to the forest. Trees shook, especially the ones that got slammed by flying bodies.

Many orcs who got hit by that wave of thunder died. The ones whose bodies got broken against tree trunks were killed instantly. Yet a few struggled back onto their feet, and others were missed by the wave, completely. One of the greenskins that avoided the wave dared to hurl a javelin at the airborne mage. The barbed weapon was thrown with impressive accuracy, but instead of striking flesh, it struck the globe of energy created by his belt. That globe was normally invisible, but the impact of the javelin made it shimmer for a split second.

Annoyed, Tor swooped down close to the ground and endeavored to take out the ones he missed, including the one who had just tried to kill him. Gesturing with both of his clawed hands, he screamed at the top of his lungs and fired off another wave of thunderous force, this one bigger than the last. Fingers of lightning curled around this thunder strike, thus giving the orcs a glimpse of their impending doom. There was a loud boom, the earth erupted with the impact, and once again bodies and dirt flew through the air.

After the dust settled, Tor saw broken green bodies, snapped weapons, swaying trees, and falling pine needles. What he didn't see was any sign of life. Satisfied with his own performance, he levitated high up into the air and glanced at his soldiers. They were doing their job well, too.

The line still held, and the orcs' numbers had dwindled. Many died on the spears that thrust out of the shield wall. Behind the wall, Bethe coordinated all the soldiers' efforts with her clear, confident commands. She also participated in the slaying when she could. Shouting a single word - "Trap!" - resulted in the two soldiers directly in front of her to pull their shields in and create an opening in the wall. Two orcs rushed through the opening, propelled by their own momentum combined with the pile of bodies pushing against them from behind. Before any more could slip through the opening, the two soldiers pushed their shields back into place to make the wall whole again.

The two orcs who got past the line raised their weapons, but Bethe struck before they could do any harm to anyone. Moving with grace and preternatural swiftness, she dodged out of the way of one's oversized axe, and at the same time she sliced off one of its legs. Before that one fell, Bethe swung up, sliced the face off the other, then stuck her sword through its exposed skull. Pulling her weapon free of the twitching body, she flipped it down, then impaled the one-legged foe through the chest after it had hit the ground.

Two monsters - both taller and burlier than the average man - were dead in a matter of seconds.

Bethe ordered her soldiers to perform the trap maneuver whenever the opportunity presented itself. And when she saw that the orcs' numbers had shrunk sufficiently, she ordered them to finish off the remainder.

"Claw!" she shouted. "Close!"

While the center of the shield wall stayed in place, the left and right ends closed in on the orcs from either side. The new formation looked like a claw clamping shut. Now surrounded by magically-reinforced shields and the sharp spears that jutted between them, the greenskins doubled their efforts to shove, hack, or kick their way through the humans' defenses. But despite their rage and their desperation to live, their efforts were in vain. The claw closed in on them, and many died.

A few of the survivors had enough sense to retreat through the only opening behind them. When Bethe saw that happen, she raised her blade and shouted a new order. "Advance! Advance toward your Lord! For Agisgrad!"

"FOR AGISGRAD!" Screaming in unison, the men and women under Bethe's command broke the line and charged after the retreating enemy. They stabbed them in their backs. A few soldiers threw their spears at the targets that were too far to kill in melee. And the few that got away were blasted with electrical or thunderous energy hurled by the mage up ahead.

Tor had seen Bethe's tactical prowess, as well as his soldiers' brutal efficiency, from the air. That was why he smiled. Wanting to land among them and congratulate them on a job well done, he began to fly in their direction. That was when he noticed Bethe point at him and scream:

"Behind you!"

Tor spun around and experienced déjà vu, for once again a warning shouted by Bethe drew his attention to a giant rock hurtling at him. He had just enough time to curse his carelessness, fling his hands out in front of him, and mentally brace his protective barrier. The globe of energy that surrounded him turned visible for only a moment when the rock shattered upon it. Despite how he braced his defense, the impact was more than powerful enough to send the mage flying over his soldiers.

Bethe watched in horror as her lord and lover crashed into the forest behind the platoon. Still surrounded by his barrier, Tor crashed through branches, bounced off a tree trunk, and then landed somewhere beyond the tree line.

Bethe's face was twisted into an expression of shock and terror. She began to rush after him, but she stopped in her tracks when she heard an inhuman roar coming from the opposite direction. Spinning around, she and her men saw trees from the woods ahead of them getting shoved aside. The ground beneath their feet rumbled with each footstep of something big. When that something emerged from the forest, some of the soldiers gasped, and all of them raised their spears.

What they saw was an ogre that was taller than some of the trees it uprooted. It had two heads. The face on one head had splatters of blood red paint on it, while the other face had lines of white drawn across its cheeks and forehead. Both of its horrid faces opened their mouths wide to roar in stereo.

Most people would have been paralyzed by such a horrible sight and sound, but not Bethe. "Shields! Shields NOW!" Shouting loud enough to be heard above the two-headed scream, she took position behind the newly-formed shield wall. "Spears up!"

One look at the row of armored humans standing shield-to-shield, pointing their spears at it must have pissed the ogre off even more. One head screamed something in the language of giants, and the other seemed to nod in agreement. It then turned around, grabbed a pine tree, and uprooted it. The ogre raised the tree above its head with both hands while hunks of dirt fell from the roots of its new weapon.

"Brace!" Bethe commanded moments before the ogre swung the tree like a club at one end of the shield line. The soldiers slammed their shields into the ground and put their shoulders to them, but bracing against the ogre's attack was as futile as trying to stand against an avalanche. There was a thunderous crack and the sound of screaming as the tree-club crashed into shields and sent several men and women flying. The shields did not shatter, which was a testament to how well they were enchanted, but at the same time they did little to protect their wielders from such an explosive force.

Bethe wasted no time on surprise. "Advance! Take out its legs! Take out its legs!"

If the Agisgradian soldiers were about to panic, it didn't show. As one, they aimed their spears at the giant's legs then charged.

"For Agisgrad!" Bethe yelled.

"FOR AGISGRAD!" her soldiers responded.

The shield line wrapped around the lone enemy to stab at its lower body from multiple angles. The flesh of its thighs, buttocks, and lower abdomen got punctured by spears, causing it to roar and recoil in pain.

Bethe sheathed her sword and picked up a spear dropped by a fallen soldier. Rushing at the ogre, she stabbed it in its crotch. Her attack elicited a fresh howl of pain. Unfortunately, it also fueled the fires of its rage.

The ogre's tree-club smashed into the soldiers a second time. Bones were shattered and bodies were once again sent flying. Bethe was one of the monster's targets, but she barely ducked underneath the devastating swing. She continued to rally the troops with her battle cries, and they continued to stab at the giant's legs in an attempt to bring it down. It bled from many wounds, but it kept on fighting.

Because each swing of the giant's pine-club took out multiple soldiers at once, the royal guard would not be able to withstand many such attacks.

Meanwhile, hidden by the forest, Tor awoke to find himself lying on the ground with a headache. This was the second time in a matter of minutes that this happened, which made him worry about possible brain damage. Sitting up, it occurred to him that since he was worried about brain damage, that must've meant he still had all his wits about him. He chuckled at the thought, but it hurt just to laugh.

A familiar purple light flew flew around his head a couple of times before hovering in front of his face. "That looked like it hurt," Zeph told him. "Are you okay?" The fairy was mere inches away from his eyes, so he could see her tiny face and the concern painted upon it.

Tor tasted blood and dirt in his mouth. He also felt blood trickling from the small wound on his forehead, which must have reopened. Swallowing and wiping his forehead with his sleeve, he got up off the ground. "I'll live. The only thing that really got hurt was my ego."

"That's good!" was Zeph's cheerful reply. She flew a few more circles around his head. As she did, Tor felt his headache diminish, just a little. And although he didn't realize it, the cut on his forehead sealed shut.

"Your soldiers aren't doing too well, though," she continued. "They're fighting something big. Real big. Bigger than you, by a lot."

There were trees blocking his view of the battle, but he could hear it. He heard two different, resonant voices curse in giant - a language he understood only a little. As troubling as that was, it wasn't nearly as troubling as the sound of his soldiers yelling out in pain and fear. Tor thought of Bethe just then, which made him dash through the forest. As he leaped over roots and dodged around trees, he winced because of the various pains throughout his body.

Zeph zipped through the air, keeping pace with him without any trouble. Flying next to his head, she asked, "Are you going to throw lightning at it, like you did with the greenskins?"

Before Tor could responded, he emerged from the treeline and saw what was happening. Skidding to a stop, he quickly assessed the situation: all the orcs were dead, about half of his force was down, and the survivors were stabbing at one enraged, two-headed ogre. Bethe was among them, fighting like a demon.

His eyes were wide, but they narrowed as he glowered at the enemy. That must have been the asshole that threw those rocks at him and knocked him out. Twice.

"Why don't you use the wand on it?"

Tor was distracted by the death and destruction in front of him, so he didn't quite catch what the fairy said. "What?"

Zeph huffed, her face scrunching up into an expression of annoyance. "I said, why don't you use that wand on it? You know, that wand you needed my fairy dust for?" As she waited for him to decide, she spiraled around his head. Behind her was a trail of glowing fairy dust she used to draw pretty patterns in the air in front of Tor's face. He waved the patterns away because they blocked his sight and irritated his nose. Zeph giggled.

Ignoring how weird it was for her to be giggling at a time like this, Tor agreed that now would be a good time to use the wand of weakness. He reached into one of the many pockets of his tunic and whipped out the magic weapon. He heard Zeph clapping and cheering as he stared at it. Even though he hadn't activated it yet, it was already glowing with a purple light that was somewhat similar to the fairy's aura. The similarity wasn't surprising, since the wand was enchanted using a touch of Zeph's fey essence. However, while the fairy's aura was bright and playful, the wand's aura was a shade or two darker, and it had an almost sinister feel to it.

Sinister was good in this instance, though. This ogre asshole was killing his soldiers and trying to kill Bethe, so sinister was just what the situation called for.

Tor took two steps forward before aiming the wand at the ogre like a pistol. But instead of pulling a trigger to fire a musket ball, he whispered a single command word - "Infirmitas!" - and fired a ray of dark purple energy at it. The ray streaked across the battlefield and over the bodies of orcs and soldiers alike. It struck the ogre in the chest right as it was about to take another swing.

Twin expressions of surprise appeared on the ogre's faces. Within seconds, the crackling, purple energy spread from its chest to the rest of its torso, making its two pairs of lips curl in anguish. It was screaming by the time the magic had completely engulfed it.

Tor didn't realize it, but he screamed, too. His cloak billowed behind him, and Zeph got blown a short distance away due to the sheer force unleashed by the wand. The mage could almost feel the life essence being drained out of the giant.

Bethe and the soldiers saw what their lord was doing to the ogre, so they backed off. Some checked on their fallen comrades. Most kept their eyes on the enemy, for what they saw was both fascinating and horrible. Before their eyes, the monster wasted away. What were once bulky arms and legs turned into thin, weak limbs covered in sagging skin. It dropped the pine tree in its hand, for it no longer had the strength to wield it. Its giant-sized gut sunk into its torso. The skin around its faces tightened. Veins in its necks bulged, and so did all four of its eyes.

It almost looked as though it were aging many decades in the span of a few seconds.

All of a sudden, the ray of energy stopped, and Tor dropped to his knees. He gasped for air, for it felt as though he had been holding his breath for several minutes. Across the battlefield, the ogre collapsed when its withered legs could no longer hold up its diminished weight. It curled up into the fetal position and could do naught but convulse, moan in agony, and stare at nothing with two sets of wide eyes.

Tor was shocked by how powerful the wand of weakness was. Even though he was the wielder, not the target, it felt as though some of his own strength had been sapped as well. Suddenly cold, Tor pulled his cloak around his body and hugged himself. He couldn't stop himself from shivering.

His thoughts raced as he attempted to reason out how the wand's magic could be so strong. Was it because the target was huge? Perhaps the wand's power adjusted to the size of the target, and it wouldn't feel so overwhelming when it's used on something smaller?

Perhaps it was because Zeph was so close by? The magic of the wand was connected to her, after all.

Whatever the reason, the result was clear: the wand of weakness could channel a tremendous amount of arcane energy, and he didn't like the feel of it. Carefully putting the wand away in a pocket that was deeper than it should have been, he decided not to use the wand again unless he had no other choice.