The Cult Of Spear (The Empress of Hell Series, Book 1)

The Escape

"NO!!!!!"

Lariel's scream is loud, hoarse, and filled with pain and despair. She doesn't even care about the other men around, nor if they will finish her off right there; the half-elf simply runs to her father's body.

"Father! Father!!!" She screams and shouts, shaking his collapsed body.

He does not react.

Tears blur the girl's vision, and tremors take over her limbs as she shakes her head negatively, refusing to accept the idea that her father is gone.

The leader of the hooded men, the one who gave the order to take him away, punches the man who killed the elf in the stomach.

"You idiot! We wanted him alive! What's gotten into you?!"

"M-me sorry sir, I... I got nervous, he attacked me..."

"Your foolishness cost us everything! You really are an idiot!"

The girl's eyes widen as she sees the leader pointing at her:

"The only one who should be dead is her. Go ahead and finish off that wretch before I finish off you foolish fools!"

Obeying their superior's orders, the rest of the group approaches the young woman with slow steps, as if they wanted to provoke her before killing her. Or were they afraid of a possible reaction?

She was not going to react. Let them end her life at once. 

Lariel closed her eyes, waiting for the blow. She was still hugging her father's body tightly.

Her slightly pointed ears detected quick footsteps approaching. Could it be that there were more of those men in the woods? Why were they there, and what did they want?

They were no longer the hooded men. 

The girl smelled smoke and gunpowder as, startled, the rest of the group cringed as they looked at the figure standing in the doorway.

"IGNIS."

And a huge wave of fire swept through the rest of the house.

She ducked, narrowly escaping the infernal wave of heat that tore through the structure of the house in seconds, taking with it the men dressed in black.

Raising her head again, Lariel saw that the fire was too bright to be ordinary, and that the flames were not spreading as they should. Magic.

The man standing in the doorway approached her.

He was wearing a navy blue overcoat, matching cloak, and knee-high black boots. His wheat-colored hair was tied up in a ponytail, and his blue eyes burned with an unusual spark.

Was he there to finish the job?

The fire was still crackling, turning from orange to blue, and then red. He held out his hand to her:

"Let's go."

The half-elf looked at the light-skinned, deep-voiced human, but couldn't move or reason properly. He insisted, speaking a little louder:

"Let's go soon. They have anti-magic defense, this wave of fire won't hold them back forever."

Indeed, some of the men who were not scorched or turned to barbecue were moving, coughing and raising their trunks. A gray glow covered their chests, like a barrier or vest.

"Hurry, come!"

She squeezes his hand, but can't get up. Still in tears, the girl looks down at the body of the elderly elf on her lap, her father....

"I am so sorry." His voice does indeed sound in mourning, but he doesn't linger long. Instead, the human makes a thrust into his hand, pulling it away. She gives in.

The two take off running as fast as they can. The girl looks back once more, thinking of the man who raised, loved and cared for her all her life.

The wizard squeezes her fingers tighter. For some reason she doesn't understand, he doesn't let go.

Entering the woods, the human begins to follow a path that apparently he already knows. The two of them are at top speed, exhausted and sweaty. Lariel lets go of his hand to tie her hair into a tight bun, preventing the locks from covering her vision.

The half-elf smells her surroundings, and besides the leaves and wood of the trees, there is also an odd smell in the air. She has never been this far from home, and even when she would wander into the forest to train or spend some time alone, she never got that far away.

"Where are we going?" She shouts, doing her best to keep up with him. Under natural conditions, she would be much faster, but the injury to her belly got in the way.

"Just follow me!" He replies, doubling his speed.

She hears the sound of stronger and stronger running water approaching. Then the wizard stops abruptly. There is a ravine inches from his boots. Lariel slows down slowly, putting his hands on his knees immediately afterwards as he tries to rest.

The blond man notes the depth of the cliff, as well as the river, and looks at her:

"We have to go down this way."

Lariel does not respond, still too focused on breathing. He continues:

"If we are fast, we can cross the river in five minutes and arrive on the other side."

"Wait a minute there," she can barely speak. "Go down? Get down how?"

"By climbing. The rocks are protruding enough that we can support our arms and legs."

Again, the young woman does not respond. She just assesses the surrounding terrain and then asks:

"Who are you?"

"I will answer that later, and to whatever you want, but only when we are down there."

The girl stands up to prepare for the climb, already accepting the fact that there is no escape, but the man seems only now to notice the bloodstain on the woman's shirt.

"Wait, you're hurt. How did you manage to run like that?"

"It's only a superficial wound."

"Let me assess it."

"I doubt you can do anything about it with your flames."

"I don't just have fire power. I can also-"

A powerful howl echoes through the woods, followed by others. Wolves.

"I think we'd better hurry," she mutters.

"I can handle a pack of wolves quietly," he argues.

She passes the human, limping slightly and assessing the edge of the ravine, preparing to descend. Tremors take over her hands and she swallows dryly.

"But I don't."

Then begins the meticulous process of balancing on the right, strategic points of the ravine. The man joins her shortly thereafter.

Just as they are about to complete the steep descent, the half-elf misses her footing point and slips violently.

She screams.

Her body begins to free-fall immediately.