A Warrior's Path Read online

  On the western edge of camp several warriors stood on guard watching the mountain pass. Somewhat apart from them, but carrying out the same function, sat Urietsin and Kiusu, side by side. They stared westward in a meditative state and were absolutely still. Though they seemed expressionless and calm, their minds were alive with activity that made them a little anxious. Neither of them was completely certain, but they felt something foreboding on the winds of eternity. Both of them could tell that something was about to happen that was a significant intersection of all their destinies.

  The young warrior Urietsi'in saw the world partially as other men saw it and partially as it truly was. Intermittent flashes of the vision he had on the mountain before he and the old man had left overlaid themselves on everything he saw. The dark swooping cloud cut through the sky, sometimes looking like a huge demon, sometimes looking like many tiny ones. As he sank deeper and deeper into his meditation the cloud persisted more and more, until it no longer disappeared from his vision.

  Urietsin blinked.

  There was a strange feeling that told him something was amiss. He concentrated as much as he could on the corporeal world, willing himself to see through his physical eyes. The dark cloud still persisted, though it was not as close as it appeared in his vision. Just there, in the sky beyond the pass, a dark blotch among the blanket of clouds. As he watched, it got larger, much larger. At this the Swift One leapt to his feet.

  “What is it Urietsin?” Kiusu asked.

  The Swift One turned to tell not only the old man, but the humans and elves behind them. “To arms! To arms! Our enemy approaches! Quickly, take up your bows!” he yelled.

  The response was instantaneous. Every man, woman and elf jumped up, grabbed the nearest weapon and ran to the western front. Etrusin, Komeris, Tilon and Marui made their way through the excited bustling to stand beside the Swift One and the old man.

  “Where are they,” demanded the general squinting toward the pass. “Where do you see them?”

  “There,” said Urietsin pointing at the western sky.

  Then they all saw it. Spread out above the mountain pass was a dark cloud that was speeding toward them. “It's nothing but a flock of birds migrating for the winter,” suggested a soldier from the ranks.

  Tilon and Marui exchanged significant glances, as did Urietsin and Kiusu.

  “These birds are a season late,” Tilon shouted with authority.

  The approach of the dark cloud was marked by an uncanny silence. As it got close enough for the army to see that it was indeed made up of hundreds, possibly thousands, of smaller flying creatures, presumably birds, they expected to hear a roaring chitter as large flocks tend to make. There was no such chitter, however, as the cloud grew larger and loomed overhead. Then, suddenly, it dropped, and the sound began.

  Arrows rained up as birdlike creatures rained down, screeching as they came. Urietsin noted with a chill the coordinated way in which they dove at the army. He saw them swoop over the whole encampment. Some of them went all the way to the ground with an elven arrow protruding from their small, squirming bodies, while others swung back into the air, leaving behind warriors clutching their bloody faces. One group of the avian forms had latched onto an unfortunate soldier, carrying him high into the air, only to drop him screaming on several others below. A couple of soldiers were injured as he crashed onto them, but for him the fall was fatal.

  Then came the wave of fear.

  While many of the warriors on the field were operating on varying levels of alarm, it was nothing compared to the sheer terror that suddenly descended. Soldiers looked up and screamed uncontrollably; some began to run away. Even those who were not gripped by an all-consuming dread found themselves feeling a bit out of place, confused. The flying enemy took advantage of the distraction, clawing and pecking at the disoriented. Things quickly looked very dim for the forces of Kesitul.

  Then a cheer went up, and a low sound reverberated over the field. It was answered by a higher pitched chant. The Shionen men called out again and were, again, answered by their female counterparts. It was a rousing battle call, as ancient as the language in which it was sung. The few elves who were stumbling from the effects of the fear found themselves able to shake it away and join in the cry. Slowly, all on the field began to feel the invigorating effects of the elvensong. Before long, the mysterious fear was dispelled.

  As Urietsin ran into the fray, he could hear the chanting of several priests somewhere nearby, punctuating that of the elves. After their foe had made a few passes, Urietsin realized that some of the birdlike creatures were combusting spontaneously. The Swift One guessed that this was the high priest's contribution to the battle, but while the fire seemed to end the creatures' flight for good, it did not seem to affect nearly enough of them. Though there were many squirming on the ground, and some charred remains as well, the bulk of them still flew overhead, and when they swooped down, they left carnage in their wake. It seemed to the Swift One that they were somehow slashing wide cuts into soldiers as they dove, and they were much more effective in their attacks than their targets were at countering.

  Overhead the sky darkened further as the clouds thickened. They transformed from a sheet of endless gray to a boiling morass of blackness. Urietsin prayed that the sudden change in weather was only a coincidence.

  Fortunately, it was not. The young warrior noted, as he looked around, that some of the chanting Shionen were not fighting physically. The part of him that could still see beyond the perceived reality of his physical senses witnessed waving tendrils of energy that flowed up from the elves and into the clouds. He wasn't sure what they were doing, but it surely could not hurt.

  Focusing back on the battle, the Swift One decided to see what these 'birds' were made of. In their next pass, he leapt into the air and plucked one of the creatures from the flock. He received many slashes along his forearm for the effort, but he managed to hang on to the thing as it flapped and struggled against him. When he landed, he saw that the bird had one excessively long hooked claw, and as he tried to keep it from lacerating him, he felt the bird getting thicker and heavier. He dropped it, startled at the sudden and seemingly impossible change, though he had suspected as much since he saw this airborne army approaching. Within moments, a hunched creature a bit shorter than a man stood before him brandishing a curved dagger.

  Urietsin crouched and looked the ugly beast in the eye. It seemed to almost laugh at him in a gurgling sort of way and came at him with a sweeping swipe of its dagger. The Swift One leaned slightly toward the approaching weapon and shot out his open palm, gripping the creature's wrist and redirecting its momentum. His intention was to pull the creature forward and trip it over his leg, but he had underestimated his foe. No sooner had Urietsin grabbed its wrist when the shapeshifter utilized that ability which came so naturally. Its wrist shrank and wriggled through the Swift One's viselike grip, sliding the sickle-shaped blade along his fingers.

  Urietsin pulled back his bloody hand. Three of his fingers were sliced almost to the bone. It had been a painful lesson, but one the Swift One picked up on quickly. He approached this fight with a bit more caution, scrutinizing his enemy for any revealing information.

  The shapeshifting creature seemed very pleased with the battle so far. It wore a terrifying grin and mimicked Urietsin's stance and circling steps. It was toying with him. By its estimation, it could end this at any time. In fact, it decided to end it now.

  The Swift One leapt back as a pair of tentacles shot out at him from random places on his foe's body. He could not jump far enough, though, and found himself entwined in the tightening appendages. He gripped them and tried to pull them or twist them off, anything to free himself, but it was like trying to grab water. His hands passed right through the tentacles with a wet sensation, while they very solidly squeezed him. He tried to push his hands into those living bonds to find something to clutch, but all in vain.

  It was becoming clear to Urietsin that he woul
d have to think of another way to free himself. He tried to pull his hands away but found that they too were now held fast, and the slimy flesh of the tentacles was oozing up his forearm. He had to duck as best he could as the swarm of creatures overhead took another dive. At this point, most men would have begun to panic. Urietsin, however, realized that panicking would not help him find a way out of his current situation. Instead, he relaxed and focused.

  The shapeshifter felt its prey loosen and thought for a moment he was losing consciousness. As it squeezed its tentacles even tighter, it realized that he had not passed out; rather he simply released all the tension in his body. It gurgled out a chuckle as it came to the conclusion that the human had simply surrendered to his fate. A few more tentacles sprouted from its body to completely envelope the human’s chest as well.

  Urietsin was trying hard to ignore the suffocating pressure around him as he concentrated. He reached out with his mind and called to the tiny feather in his pouch, holding down the urge to smile triumphantly. That urge fled quickly as he realized that nothing was happening. He tried to relax more and called to the feather again. When there was again no result, Urietsin tried to feel his surroundings with all of his senses. When this failed, he found it difficult to hold down a rising sense of desperation. He suddenly became painfully aware of how impossible it was to breathe.

  His opponent’s laugh had become a screeching cackle. It squeezed with crushing relentlessness as it felt its prey’s struggle returning, but by now it was too late. The creature’s watery flesh was creeping all over the human, and the victim’s panicked writhing only urged it on.

  Suddenly the pressure around Urietsin’s body released, and the blackness that had been growing inward around his vision receded. It cleared just in time to see the creature’s headless body topple. Behind it, one of Etrusin’s soldiers was turning to face another foe, giving a stunned Swift One only the slightest nod of acknowledgement.

  Meanwhile, up in the sky, the clouds swelled ominously. A low rumble was barely heard above the battle. A red flicker, almost imperceptible at first, lined the dark clouds with an eerie glow. A spidering bolt of red lightning erupted from the dark sky, taking to the ground dozens of shapeshifters. The defenders of Kesitul howled triumphantly, and the chant of the elves grew louder, provoking another rumble from the sky.

  Kiusu had stood on the edge of battle just long enough to watch Urietsin rush in, but he noticed, as the young warrior had, the chanting of the priests and its relatively ineffective results. He rushed off toward the sound, which was soon almost completely drowned out by the sounds of the soldiers trying to swat foes from the air and the elves' own powerful chant. He came upon the six holy men crouched in a circle around a very large ivory horn.

  The old man recognized that horn instantly. It was almost the size of a small man, and twenty years did nothing to diminish the chillingly wicked image of the face it once adorned. Even if he had never seen the beast, he would have recognized the aura of dark energy given off by this pointed artifact. It was the horn of Reisothin, the magical focal point of the fiend's malicious powers. Seeing it standing free on the ground gave Kiusu the impression that the priests were crouching on the dragon's forehead. For a moment he expected the ground to come alive and toss the men in the air and swallow them up. He had seen the Abomination devour several men, one of them his master, and these six would have been no more than a light snack.

  The ground remained still, however, and the priests seemed to want to be as close to it as they could without lying down. Kiusu could see that they were afraid, and though none of them broke their circle or their chant, more than one of them broke their concentration by looking up at the twisting cloud of dagger-clawed creatures and the darkening sky above.

  Kiusu understood their fear, but he knew that the power of such an item as they wielded was cunning. Because Reisothin had used it with such evil purpose, some of that purpose remained within the horn as part of its energy. Such residual sentience often finds ways of manipulating the wielders of relics like this horn. The old man knew that he had to help the priests to find their focus and thus increase their effectiveness and decrease their susceptibility.

  The priests' chant was a simple plea to the energy within the horn to make itself known to the enemies of Kesitul. Kiusu began to chant a variant of this, more a command than a request, and insinuated himself into the circle. The two men whose hands he had grabbed were startled nearly to panic, but when they realized that Kiusu was not an enemy, they quickly resumed their chant. The old man increased the volume of his voice in the hopes that the six others would pick up on the alteration he had made to their words.

  The chant became a mantra to Kiusu as he began to perceive more and more with his spirit. As he ascended to this higher state, he realized that the horn was slowly growing larger in his physical eyes. After many minutes, it grew to fill his entire field of vision, and his chant seemed to almost go mute in his own ears as his focus was drawn to the wicked remain of Reisothin. The horn was subtly trying to dominate Kiusu's will, but the old man would not be fooled so easily. He screamed back at it with all of his strength.

  The effect was drastic. The horn shrank away, while the world and the universe came back into focus. Out of the corner of his eye, Kiusu saw the red bolt of lightning. He could hear the cheer of the army around him and urged the priests into a louder chant.

  The holy men complied, though their confidence in Kiusu's technique was starting to flag. So far, nothing significant had happened since the old man had inserted himself into their circle. Suddenly, there was a roaring explosion and a wave of heat as a ball of fire expanded out of nowhere right in the middle of the swarm of shapeshifters. Nearly four score charred, vaguely bird-shaped forms plummeted from the flock. The priests were stunned, but Kiusu, apparently unfazed, continued to chant, and his tone urged the six of them to continue as well.

  Halfway across the field of warriors, Su-Ni gave an exasperated look to her companions Denlin and O'eintsu. Just before the battle had begun, she had gone searching for Pei-Shi in the crowd of soldiers, hoping to find reassurance from her most recent mentor. The two young warriors that had been on the scouting mission with her were all she could manage to find before the attack. Now the three of them were waiting for the next dive to swat the air in the hopes of injuring one of their infuriating enemies.

  Between them they managed to catch a few, especially Denlin with his long staff. He swung the wooden weapon high in the air and always seemed to knock a bird-shaped form to the ground, sometimes two. As the rest of them soared up and away for another pass, he would beat the ones on the ground with a dazzling sequence of jabs. He was so skilled with his weapon that, though the three of them were in fairly close quarters with one another and the rest of the army, Denlin never hit anything beside an enemy.

  O'eintsu was the next most effective with his chiun. Regardless of whether the creatures were flying toward or away from them, he would throw the little metal stars with uncanny accuracy. Not for his lack of skill, though, the creatures seemed generally unaffected by his attacks. Sometimes he would throw a chiun directly at his target, but it would seem to pass right through without harming it. Other times he hit, but it seemed to do no more than incur the beast's wrath. Already he had a long gash from his right eyebrow to his left temple. He did bring a few from the sky, though most did not fall as near as those struck by Denlin.

  Su-Ni felt the most impotent of the bunch. Her sword was not nearly as long as Denlin's staff, and she certainly could not throw it. When she wasn't swiping ineffectively at the swooping storm, she was watching the elves' arrows cut through the air with envy. She did like her sword, but right now it didn't seem to be doing much good. She made a mental note that if she lived through this war, she would have to take up archery.

  They all flinched as red lightning shattered the sky. Handfuls of foes fell to the ground, and the three warriors could not help but yell out happily. Then another explo
sion engulfed a portion of the sky, and a wave of heat blasted toward them. Once again, several scorched lumps of previously living shapeshifter rained onto the soldiers. The army of Kesitul cheered on at the work of the elves and the priests. The creatures that were not hit by the blasts scattered momentarily, then rejoined and dove angrily. Su-Ni, Denlin and O'eintsu set aside their brief celebration to steel themselves against the fresh attack.

  Whatever the sources of these magical attacks, the shapeshifters did not like them. They sped toward the soldiers, cawing and screeching wildly. Su-Ni and Denlin had to flail their weapons, more to beat away several attacks at once than to bring down any of the beasts. O'eintsu, who had run out of chiun, was doing his best with only his limbs. He punched, leapt into the air and kicked. He even grabbed two of the creatures and smashed them together. Despite all of their best efforts, they each received several wounds from the slashing claws of their foes.

  The attack went on like this for many more minutes, which contrasted with the hit-and-retreat method the shapeshifters had been using for almost an hour now. A glance out over the army showed virtually no one without blood on his face or arms. If they made it through this alive, most of this generation from Kesitul would be marked by the physical scars of this battle for life. The army was focusing so much of its attention on keeping the taloned monsters at bay that they hardly noticed a second and third fireball erupting from nowhere, and several more flashes of lightning from above.

  This time when the shapeshifters regrouped for the attack, they did not remain in the air. Chaos ensued as the birdlike creatures transformed, landing right in the midst of Kesitul's army. Su-Ni almost lost sight of her two companions as the crowd thickened with enemies. She found herself blocking multiple attackers. This was more than she had ever trained for.