+++ Alfon’s Perspective +++

There was once upon a time where Swift remarked that I may contain dragon blood within my veins, just as the ancient hero Reinhardt had, for my learning capabilities as an infant were absurd.

However, any notions of these claims were dispelled when it was soon elucidated how hopelessly weak I was, even compared to people the same age as I. 

I personally thought they were being quite rude and overdramatic. Even after I realized I could not match the stamina of Caspian Dale, I figured it was simply because he was much too energetic. It was only after a few arm wrestling matches in the clinic back in Talis when it fully registered that they weren’t entirely wrong.

Sure losing once or twice was fine, but getting deadlast every single time? Even with my relatively uninjured left hand? Against boys even younger than I was?

The Book of Prophecy put it best: “Alfon Adelmire was a brilliant mage, but a hopeless combatant”. Sure I had bits and pieces of knowledge from my prior life, but in a world where the dynamics of magic changed even the laws of physics, I was quite powerless to use the insights of modern times.

Perhaps I was just disappointed in myself, but what good was knowledge in the face of a drooling monster leaping for the kill?

If anyone deserved the title of ‘dragonblood’ it would be Nina.

SPLAT.

Lying down, I turned my face to the sudden noise and my vision was filled with the smiling visage of my outlander companion who was also laying in the brush beside me.

“What wrong Alfy?” She spoke, acting as if nothing was wrong. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the faint glimpse of her bloody tail, far longer than it usually was, and heard an unearthly clicking noise as it retracted.

CLICK.

Click.

click.

Nina’s tail, on normal days, didn’t look like it could ever be used for combat. Not even close. It was of a darker shade of white than her skin with soft silvery scales and having a thickness and length akin to that of her arm. The texture could even be described as that of a pillow when she wrapped it around you.

I don’t know what kind of ability she was using right now to turn that soft, fluffy appendage into a weapon of death, but I sure was glad she was on my side.

“Nina... did you always have this sort of strength?” I asked tentatively.

“Strength? Alfy?” She smiled softly before wrapping her tail, now looking the same as it usually was, around me, “What mean?” It seemed like she was trying to hide her power as best as she could, but there is only so much you can hide when the noise of a Wolfenhil choking under its own blood can be heard even through the noises of battle right in front of me.

I tried to help her previously... I really did. But at some point I used too many spells and started feeling light headed. I’m pretty sure four year olds weren’t even supposed to cast so many third rank spells in a row, if at all.

The blood on her tail was staining my pant leg, but I didn’t really feel like pointing it out.

“Ah nothing, don’t worry.” I decided to not think about it as I turned my attention to the sight before me.

We were observing the battle for the iron reinforced carriage unfolding before me from a high vantage point. So far it was going rather well.

The Giant Vinesnapper was certainly a horrible opponent that required a whole raid team of people to go up against, being the size of a building with an enormous flower blooming atop it while spreading corrosive spores and having long tendrils that could crush the average human; and certainly smaller monsters had been drawn into the fighting to assist the humongous creature, mostly of the Wolvenhil or plant based variety.

But the hired guards and mercenaries stood their ground rather admirably, looks like the convoy leader didn’t skimp on protection funds.

We had been watching for a while and the notable stand out fighters were a fully armored bronze guardian wielding a sledgehammer that wouldn’t budge even under the assault of the giant roots; a ferocious beastman who tore apart all who stood before him in a relentless fury; a squadron of silver knights led by a knight in black, who was probably the strongest fighter here; a fair haired priestess who had taken the role of protecting the more ordinary combatants; and, of course, my mother who had been shredding up Wolfenhils like it was her day job.

Go mom.

The knight in black looked to be the convoy leader and was very close to cutting down the creature, the agonizing, desperate groans from the plant monster growing ever more quiet under his onslaught.

“Nina, is Helena still alive in the carriage?” I whispered to her. I call it a carriage but it was honestly closer to an armored train car. I heard they needed specialized pack beasts in order to tow it.

She thinks for a bit before nodding in response to my question.

This was good news I think. According to the book of prophecy the monster wave goes from bearable to completely unmanageable following the death of Helena, and so far, judging by the fact that the train car was still intact, albeit crumpled, and Nina had judged her to be still alive, it seemed like she was fine.

That being said, it wasn’t as if we had forever. The situation could only get worse for those trapped in a monster wave.

“Director Hirlicind! I’ve cleared you a path!” I could hear one of the silver knights shouting even from here. The knight in black leapt forward through the gap in the vines the knights in silver had created and brought his pitchblack longsword down on that enormous flower.

The impact was devastating. 

The monster shrieked one last time before it collapsed limp with a deafening thud, dumping the iron carriage it had wrapped in its roots on the forest floor.

I felt the urge to clap.

But before my dumb four year old instincts could take over Nina pointed a finger at the carriage door.

The black knight, Hirlicind, had ripped off the metal hatch and carried out a fragile woman about 3 quarters his size.

“Woman. Her.”

I was wondering why Nina hesitated when responding to my earlier question about the status of Helena.

She was indeed alive.

But certainly not by much.

Even from here I could discern the absolute horrific state she was in. This was largely due to her body being bent all kinds of wrong and blood staining her once green robes. Perhaps some of those corrosive spores had leaked into the carriage because patchy yellow holes had opened up on her skin and her flesh had been spilling out and staining the dirt below. 

Hirlicind promptly shouted some commands before the fair haired priestess and some other folks in robes rushed over. Amongst the fifty or so people I spotted only three answered his call. I guess casters were rare amongst mercenaries.

On the topic of magic I wondered why my spells did so little damage. The two other mages I spotted weren’t even activating high ranked spells, more so an assortment of second ranked magic, yet even a single cast could wipe out two Wolvenhils. It wasn’t fair really.

My contemplation was cut short by a sinking feeling when I saw the two other robed figures collapse and the fair haired priestess shaking her head angrily at Hirlicind

Damn.

I should have known it was going to get more complicated.

If Helena dies here... well I’m not sure what exactly will happen, but it can’t be good.

“Is there any mage with remaining mana amongst the combatants!?” Hiriclind bellowed to the group. “I shall triple your payment for this service!”

Ah.

This was it.

An opportunity to change things!

As I rose to answer the call I felt a hand hold me back.

“Alfy.” Though Nina spoke quietly, I could hear every single motion of her lips, “Don’t. Go. Danger.”

“Nina,” I wasn’t sure what she was talking about, but it made me uneasy. However, this wasn’t a choice I could back down on, “I must go.”

“Alfy...”

She... wasn’t smiling.

And things never turn out well when Nina isn't smiling. 

Perhaps things had already fallen apart and I was just a useless cog, spinning within the grand machine...

BUT.

Spin against fate I will.

“I ask once more! Is there any mage with remaining  mana amongst the combatants!?” The voice of the convoy leader beckoned for me to act. 

“Nina,” I stare at her resolutely, “I have to.”

“Alfy. Don’t die.” She gave me a grim smile before gripping my hand tighter, “Nina. Won’t let. Die.”

As we made our way down the slope towards the battle clearing I couldn’t get the  singular thought out of my head.

What was she so afraid of?

 

+++ ???’s Perspective +++

“What is with these numbers?” Rafine shouted in frustration as she let loose another flame cannon out of her wand, sending the tree-like monsters up in a conflagration, “Not just Leafkin stingers, but treants as well huh? What’s next? A Crater Oak?”

“M-Madam Mage... how much further?” 

“I-I don’t think I can run anymore.”

As if the situation wasn’t bad enough, the remaining survivors the pair of adventurers had rescued from the wreckage of the caravans were in rather poor condition. There were about a dozen of them, and about half were injured pretty badly.

“Endure! The evacuation point is not much further!” Rafine attempted to bolster their spirits with a warcry, but considering her rapidly depleting stock of wands, it wasn’t looking much good for her either.

“Kya!” A young woman, seemingly from a rural village, had lagged behind. The lumbering builds of two ogres had cut her off from the rest of the group.

“Magma geys-'' Rafine aimed her wand directly at the nearest ogre, but the sudden rise in temperature she felt made her drop it onto the ground. “Damn!” She grimaced at the shriveled pile of ash that used to be a spellcasting device.

“Prisilla we need you back here!” She hurriedly rummaged through her knapsack in an attempt to pick up another wand. It was hard enough saving these people as is, she’d be damned if she let them die so easily.

But her concerns were unwarranted.

SLASH!

The edge of a blade sliced through the air with deadly precision, shearing right through the heart of the first ogre, cleaving the massive creature in two.

HACK!

A follow-up swing strikes the neck of the second beast with lethal force, and the grotesque fanged head of the monster is parted from its shoulders. Both ogres fell over with a massive thud, their deaths only seconds apart from the other’s.

A lone beastwoman stood atop the second corpse, head downcast, unmoving, as if scanning for her next prey.

Rafine took a moment to compose herself, she knew the weapon was powerful but this... she had never seen her companion quite so deadly. “That spear really is nasty huh?”

“-ya..” A quiet response.

“I’m sorry?” Rafine asked, “Could you rep-”

“It’s a HALBERD!” In the blink of an eye the beastwoman was in front of her, the force of the wind sweeping up her chestnut hair, wrapping it around her face like a lion’s mane.

Prisilla didn’t look normal. Lines of swirling vermillion had appeared on her skin like cracks, and her eyes danced with madness. As Rafine stood inches away from her snarling teeth, she was starting to understand why Prisilla had avoided using the weapon all this time.

“S-Sorry. Nya.” Prisilla backed off quickly in embarrassment, “G-Getting used to the weapon nya.” She wrapped her body around the sinister looking equipment. Her body shivering as her arms embraced the silvery decorated handle of the halberd.

Looks like power doesn’t come without a price. 

Had Rafine forced her friend into something terrible?

“Prisilla, I-I...” It pained her to see Prisilla like this.

“I’m fine, Rafy. If my dad could handle it, so can I.” Prisilla’s words seemed shaky, not at all reliable.

“But, Prisilla...”

“I’m. Fine.” She said again, more resolutely now.

Rafine stopped and nodded. Throwing off the doubts she had, she moved to assist the cowering girl. 

But as she reached out with her hands the young woman drew away, eyes filled with fear.

That was right, she still had her horns out.

Rafine narrowed her eyes, but still held out her hand. It wasn’t like she wasn’t used to this.

“S-sorry.” The woman apologized. It seemed like her will to survive was greater than her fear of the outlander for the young woman reached hesitantly for her hand. Rafine gripped her thin arm and pulled her up, walking her back to the group.

“Prisilla.” Rafine called.

No response.

“Prisilla!” A little louder this time.

“A-Ah? Nya?” The tail of the beastwoman stood up straight as she turned towards Rafine with a vacuous expression.

“Did you find the last survivor?” 

“Oh...” Prisilla’s face looked gloomy as she brought out a Starknife Gladiolus from her pocket. The deep blue flower was the speciality of Halyis, and this one was particularly beautiful, “No...”

“I see. We should head back the-” Rafine stopped her sentence. No, it wasn’t as if she stopped it, it was that she simply could not speak.

A wave of mana assaulted her body, causing her to nearly fall over. It was a dark, stygian energy that wreaked havoc on her senses.

If there had been any reason to doubt the prophecy, there wasn’t any left anymore.

“Madam mage? What’s wrong, are you okay?” The people they had saved looked worried as they witnessed the outlander spell caster stumbling on her feet.

“P-Prisilla...” Rafine clutched her head as she forced the words out, “D-Did you...”

“Yeah.” The beastman’s eyes had widened, her pupils dilating. She wasn’t a mage, but even she could feel the harrowing pulse emanating out from ahead of them.

If they ran now, forsook every single person left in the entire convoy, leaving everyone to die. There would be no one that would blame them, such is the threat they knew they faced.

“P-Prisilla.. Ha...” Rafine regained her senses and pointed in the exact direction where they should avoid.

“I know Rafy. I’ll be going ahead.”

As Prisilla flew across the forest floor, she thought about the irony of it all.