Night had fallen over the mountains, and the crackling of a small campfire was the only sound within the camp of the Patronus.
Sylvire was sat with Elias sleeping against her, her robes gathered around him to protect him from the cold. Her husband stood a few feet away, looking out over the mountains, lost in thought. Aside from the rest of the camp, Oron tended to Merethyl. The orb had healed her wound, but she had lost a lot of blood in the hasty flight from the citadel, and remained incredibly weak. Her armour had been replaced with a heavy cloak for warmth, and was stowed in Sylvire’s pack for safety. Peregrin sat alone, normal eagerness suppressed by the knowledge that the three who had remained behind were almost certainly dead by now. Kaelan too stood alone, but that was characteristic of him – he seldom voiced himself, used to the silence of a royal guard. Shaiel and Gawyn sat together a short distance away. Sylvire wondered whether there was something between the two. Before now she had not thought much of the fact that they often travelled together, but since their flight they had remained closer than ever.
They were an odd couple, a prince and a rogue, but it wouldn’t be the first time that such bonds had been formed within the Patronus.
The sorceress let out a deep sigh. She could not help but wonder whether those bonds would be tragically short lived.
A light footfall caused Sylvire to look up with a start, but the figure that descended the hill at the edge of their makeshift camp was that of Luriel. The dark elf’s expression was even graver than usual.
“The golem is near.” She whispered, “I think I saw figures with it, but I couldn’t be sure.”
Sylvire cursed. How did the Orsa keep finding them? She supposed that in their haste to escape, and without Merethyl’s expertise, they had left a trail to be tracked. She gently shook Elias awake, leaving the blinking child to gather himself, and rose.
“We have to move on.” She said sadly, to a collective groan from the group. “The enemy is nearby.”
Despite their fatigue, the Patronus moved quickly. The fire was extinguished and the wood and stones that formed it scattered. Gawyn helped Oron lift Merethyl onto his back, the wood elf stirring enough to hold onto the centaur’s waist to avoid falling. Within a few minutes, they were on the move.
The way was treacherous – particularly as they had needed to abandon the path to avoid their route being blatantly obvious – and the night made it more so. The mountain was filled with ridges to drop from and fall to your death, and when you could not see more than a few feet ahead it was like one big death trap. But they could not risk a light, in case the Orsa caught sight of them.
“Wait.”
Luriel’s voice cut through the silence, and the group paused to look to her.
“I think I hear-“
But she didn’t need to finish her sentence. The pebble that Luriel had heard rolling dropped from above them and landed with a clack at the front of the group. A pause of a few moments followed in utter silence.
And then a figure dropped out of the sky. Blade wreathed in shadow, the leather clad woman landed in the Patronus’ midst out of nowhere. The large sword swung upwards, and cleaved through the metal of Kaelan’s armour like it was paper. A splatter of blood and the half elf fell to the ground. Sylvire didn’t need to check to know that he was dead.
With a roar of anger, Gawyn charged forwards. Hefting the axe, he swung it around towards the woman, who darted backwards and away. The weapon cleaved through the rock of the mountain, scattering earth and stone, passing inches from her chest.
But Luriel was already there to meet her, and the assailant barely had time to bring her sword in to deflect the assassin’s dagger. The woman was fast, but Luriel was faster, and a kick to her midriff sent her stumbling backwards toward the edge of the ridge.
She regained her balance quickly, though, and held her sword aloft as if in challenge to the dark elf. Luriel didn’t take the challenge up. Instead, she calmly reached into her cloak, swept out the boomstick and pulled the trigger. A cascade of flame and magma burst outwards in a cone of fiery death, enveloping the woman and toppling her backwards off of the mountain’s edge. Wreathed in flame, she fell out of sight, limp.
Sylvire hurried to crouch beside Kaelan, but he was beyond saving. His front had been cleaved open in its entirety. It was with a heavy hand that Sylvire lifted the Elemental Shield and the Hunter’s Javelin from his grasp, whispering a prayer to the light.
“We can’t stay to grieve.” She croaked, stowing the javelin away at her hip. “We must keep going.”
“Mummy..?” Elias’s voice from where Seridur held him was frightened. “I’m scared.”
“We all are, Elias, sweetheart.” Sylvire said, wiping a tear from her eye, “But we have to be brave for the world.”
Leaving Kaelan’s body, the group moved on with haste. It did not escape them that their pursuers would know where they were – the Vulcan’s Boomstick was not exactly subtle – and as such they hoped to outpace them.
But after only a few minutes, a cry from behind them caused Sylvire to turn. Oron was knelt down, face twisted in pain. “Oron!” she exclaimed, running over, “What’s wrong?”
“My leg.” The centaur cursed, “I am not built for narrow mountain ridges, not at all.”
Sylvire held out a hand, “Give me the orb, I’ll use it to heal you.”
Oron nodded, and passed the artefact over. With a brief glow, a tendril of light moved into Oron’s leg and the bone shifted, where it had given and broken it was restored. The centaur unsteadily rose to his feet.
From his back, Merethyl murmured, “I can walk from here.” She said, “If I’m down from your back, you’ll be less likely to fall.”
Nobody protested – it was beyond the time for pandering to people, if she said she could walk then she could walk – and the wood elf slid off of Oron’s back. But the fall had cost them precious minutes, and the thudding of the golem’s feet was audible in the distance.
Sylvire cursed, and turned to go onwards, but Oron put a hand upon her shoulder. “Keep the orb.” He said, “I can’t keep up the pace that you need to maintain if you are to escape. I’ll only slow you down. Us centaurs can’t handle this terrain, sadly.”
“I can’t just leave you here!” Sylvire protested, but the druid nodded his head, smiling.
“Of course you can. Now go, you have to protect the others. My life is unimportant. The safety of the artefacts is paramount.”
Sylvire was about to protest again, but Luriel’s hand on her arm cut her off. “We have to go.” The dark elf hissed, and reluctantly the sorceress stepped back from Oron and turned to follow after the group.
Continuing their descent, the group began to near the other side of the mountain range – a forest at its base their destination, from which they could find cover and decide on their plan of action. Fatigue was heavy on them all now. Suddenly, Merethyl gave a shout, and pointed upwards.