Chapter 39
The Guard and the Order were hanging back, edging their ways slowly away, the dirt barely disturbed by their feet. This was not becoming a place for anyone who wanted to remain alive. Not that it was much of one before - the bodies on the ground attested to that - but at least they had a chance. With Rasmus back, it was getting out of hand. The air was breathing, pulsating with the magical energies swirling around the bodies. The leaves on the plants and trees began to waver back and forth, not from a breeze, but from almost a pure absence of breeze. It was like they were looking for a breeze to catch, that would let them pull away from this scene as far as they could stretch.
One of the remaining soldiers in the back of the Guard turned to make a run for it, and felt his limbs lose every bit of energy they had been building up. In front of him was a man, half staggering up the path, his clothes ripped and torn - his shirt sleeves had long since disappeared, and not by choice - his arms scratched, bruised, and bloody. There was blood on his face, down his arms, and some had even leaked out from his legs, through the rips in his pants. There was something in the way he walked, though. There was anger, there was pain, but there was also pride, dignity. He moved like a predator - one that had been forced out of its back, and was back to reclaim its place. Or maybe one who had gone on the hunt and had lost the fight, but knew that there was another day. The man staggering up the path had clenched fists and manic eyes, and the soldier didn’t dare even try to look into them. It was all he could do to move out of the way and grab the soldier next to him, letting the man pass.
Henrik heard some movement behind him. It sounded like the soldiers moving. But which direction? Were they moving toward him, or away from the group? He tried listening a little harder. It was away. It was back, and…they were parting? Henrik decided to risk a glance, and had to stifle a smile. Coming up between the groups was the bloodied, nearly broken looking Santeri. And he looked furious.
Miika and Rasmus saw Henrik’s movement at the same time, and subsequently both looked in Santeri’s direction in time to miss a flutter of Anja’s eyes, as well as a slight movement of her head. Her fists were beginning to clench. She was waking up, and the only two that saw it were Tuuka and Sofia.
It is common knowledge that, when confronted with an enemy, wolves will stand together, and prepare to fight until their enemy is no longer left standing. They are a pack animal, and as such, survive entirely with a pack mentality - no individual member is more important than the pack as a whole. It is by this principle that the Alpha Male remains such, and it is by this principle that wolves can survive in such incredible conditions. It also by this principle that wolves have developed an ability to silently measure the odds, and tell when things are about to rapidly change in a direction that is counter to their ability to survive. This was becoming one of those times. Tuuka and Sofia stared at each other, unmoving, diving inside one another’s minds. To the outside observer, it may have only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough. Sofia half-growled, Tuuka responded in kind, and then he turned to look at his pack. A few were dead now, the rest were either hurt or frightened. Watching their leader stay locked in a fight for so long was unnerving them, and the fact that they had been fighting an oversized owl and a pterodactyl couldn’t have helped matters at all. He barked once. It was sharp, it was quick, and it was no where near as loud as he could be, but this wasn’t a moment he needed to be loud in. It got the necessary response - ears perked up, heads came to attention, wolves pulled themselves into something resembling a ready state. They separated, fanning out around Anja and Miika.
Miika, for his part, was very, very slowly and carefully returning Anja to the ground, and taking the dagger away. The animals were all trained on her. All…except Peikko, that is, who had vanished. Not that it was terribly surprising that he could vanish, since that was part of his whole thing, but he wasn’t just invisible. He was physically gone from the space he had been occupying. Which was more unnerving than if he had been there. Miika swallowed, and sheathed the dagger. He stepped back, carefully, staying low to the ground, one hand near a sword, the other scraping the dirt. His whole body was tensed, every muscled coiled like a spring, and they weren’t relaxing at any moment in the near future. When surrounded by claws and teeth belonging to creatures faster than you, your adrenaline prepares you to do one of two completely insane things at a moment’s notice. But, of course, with enough predators angry at each other, even the insane becomes a good idea…
The world came to a grinding halt as the magical energies on the road began to spin in upon themselves. Santeri took a step forward, as Rasmus raised his hands, the fingers forming a cupped circle, aimed at Santeri’s chest. Henrik’s right fist began to swing, and Miika leapt over Anja’s body. Anja opened her eyes.
Watch closely, now, and try not to blink. Or you’ll miss what happens next.
The first thing to happen involved Henrik. Or, more accurately, his fist, as it connected with Rasmus’s left shoulder. The finger circle jerked apart, the air rippling and bending in a shockwave that shot out from between the rapidly spreading hands. Santeri jumped forward, the shockwave slamming into the ground beneath him. The force of the released energy propelled him forward, and he opened his arms to his sides…
Just as Peikko materialized in a ball of fire behind him, flying straight into his back, vanishing as it hit him. The entire pterodactyl slipped through the back of Santeri’s body like a pencil into water, without so much as a sound. Rasmus regained his composure in time to duck, and Santeri flew over him, twisting and landing in a small skid on the dirt road.
While this had been happening, Anja held a hand up, stopping Miika mid-air above her. She place him back down to where he had been standing originally, and she sat up. She looked around her, in a dream, in time to watch Santeri land. She held her hands up, and pushed them to the sides, in a motion that would have suggested she was trying to swim.
Or it would have, if she had been in a pond, instead of sitting on a dirt road.
Kiri flew back to Henrik, landing on the man’s shoulder, and gripped tight, trying to fly backwards. Henrik stumbled backward under the large bird’s powerful wings, and regained his balance in time to see Tuuka stalk up to him. The wolf wasn’t growling. It wasn’t acting menacingly in any way. It was, however, making it clear that Henrik was going to step back, unless he wanted his life to become incredibly short and painful. He chanced a look around, and saw the rest of the pack forcing the Guard and Order back. A look to his right showed the unmistakable figure of Sofia forcing Miika back to the tree line as well.
So the animals knew something the humans didn’t. Well, as long as Anja was safe…and standing. Slowly but surely, she was getting to her feet. Rasmus had turned and was facing Santeri, his knuckles white but glowing other colors. Santeri’s eyes were still closed. He tilted his head back, aiming his face at the sky, and spread his arms back out. Rasmus began chanting. His lips didn’t move, his eyes didn’t leave Santeri’s face, but the chant still echoed out of him, the dust kicking up and circling around his feet, which were leaving the ground inch by inch, until he was floating just above the road. Santeri’s head came back down, facing Rasmus. His eyes opened, and Herik felt himself gasp.
Santeri’s eyes had changed. The whites were gone, the iris had no color anymore. It was as if his pupils had overtaken his eyes completely, and behind them was…fire. His soul was on fire, and it was aimed directly at Rasmus. Rasmus’s chanting grew louder, and Santeri took off at a dead sprint, running toward the floating man. Rasmus lashed out, pure magical energy leaping from his body, as Santeri’s arms became fiery wings, his body quickly becoming avian as the entire thing became engulfed in fire. Rasmus swung an arm down, a blue-green blade made entirely of energy in his hand, hitting Santeri’s back as Santeri slammed into him.
There was a flash of light. And, for a moment…there was peace.
The dust began to settle back, and everyone - and everything - began to pick itself back off the ground. Henrik had a ringing in his ears, the likes of which he had never experienced to this magnitude before. He opened his eyes, and fell forward to his knees and hands, hoping that the world would stop spinning. He picked his head up, and saw Anja standing over two bodies, one of an old man, one of a younger man, both of which had seen their fair share of life. She knelt down, placing her hand over the younger man’s eyelids. She closed her own for a moment, mumbled something, and opened them again. The younger man’s hand twitched, and the fingers moved. A few inches away, Sofia sat, attending to her own wounds, her ears completely alert and at attention. On the other side of Anja was a large wolf covered in scratches, bites, and dried blood.
Anja turned, and looked at Henrik. She smiled softly, and opened her mouth. Her voice was soft, and floated through the air, dancing through Henrik’s consciousness. “It’s okay. He’s alright, Henrik. It is over.”
* * *
It is said that there are some prophecies that do not have endings. They have beginnings, and it is up to those hearing the call of Destiny to choose how they end.
It is said that, given time, the only force more powerful than the human spirit is Time itself. Although, in a universe full of uncertain futures, the human Spirit becomes an equal.
It is said that if you walk into the woods, and walk away from all civilization, you should continue walking until you reach the ancient woods, the ones that people write stories about. Deep within these ancient, historic woods, there will be a dwelling. It may be a hut, it may be a house, it may be a castle. It may be no more than a cave with a fire that was never lit. Tread carefully here, for it is from here that Destiny flows forth, meeting Time, to give History its inescapable flow.
It is said that, deep in these woods, if you listen closely to the howling of the wolves, you may just hear the chanting of a spell.
It is said that if you walk to the edge of the woods, and stand on the cliffs overlooking the world, and watch the sun rise, that, however briefly, the light becomes wings.
THE END
One of the remaining soldiers in the back of the Guard turned to make a run for it, and felt his limbs lose every bit of energy they had been building up. In front of him was a man, half staggering up the path, his clothes ripped and torn - his shirt sleeves had long since disappeared, and not by choice - his arms scratched, bruised, and bloody. There was blood on his face, down his arms, and some had even leaked out from his legs, through the rips in his pants. There was something in the way he walked, though. There was anger, there was pain, but there was also pride, dignity. He moved like a predator - one that had been forced out of its back, and was back to reclaim its place. Or maybe one who had gone on the hunt and had lost the fight, but knew that there was another day. The man staggering up the path had clenched fists and manic eyes, and the soldier didn’t dare even try to look into them. It was all he could do to move out of the way and grab the soldier next to him, letting the man pass.
Henrik heard some movement behind him. It sounded like the soldiers moving. But which direction? Were they moving toward him, or away from the group? He tried listening a little harder. It was away. It was back, and…they were parting? Henrik decided to risk a glance, and had to stifle a smile. Coming up between the groups was the bloodied, nearly broken looking Santeri. And he looked furious.
Miika and Rasmus saw Henrik’s movement at the same time, and subsequently both looked in Santeri’s direction in time to miss a flutter of Anja’s eyes, as well as a slight movement of her head. Her fists were beginning to clench. She was waking up, and the only two that saw it were Tuuka and Sofia.
It is common knowledge that, when confronted with an enemy, wolves will stand together, and prepare to fight until their enemy is no longer left standing. They are a pack animal, and as such, survive entirely with a pack mentality - no individual member is more important than the pack as a whole. It is by this principle that the Alpha Male remains such, and it is by this principle that wolves can survive in such incredible conditions. It also by this principle that wolves have developed an ability to silently measure the odds, and tell when things are about to rapidly change in a direction that is counter to their ability to survive. This was becoming one of those times. Tuuka and Sofia stared at each other, unmoving, diving inside one another’s minds. To the outside observer, it may have only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough. Sofia half-growled, Tuuka responded in kind, and then he turned to look at his pack. A few were dead now, the rest were either hurt or frightened. Watching their leader stay locked in a fight for so long was unnerving them, and the fact that they had been fighting an oversized owl and a pterodactyl couldn’t have helped matters at all. He barked once. It was sharp, it was quick, and it was no where near as loud as he could be, but this wasn’t a moment he needed to be loud in. It got the necessary response - ears perked up, heads came to attention, wolves pulled themselves into something resembling a ready state. They separated, fanning out around Anja and Miika.
Miika, for his part, was very, very slowly and carefully returning Anja to the ground, and taking the dagger away. The animals were all trained on her. All…except Peikko, that is, who had vanished. Not that it was terribly surprising that he could vanish, since that was part of his whole thing, but he wasn’t just invisible. He was physically gone from the space he had been occupying. Which was more unnerving than if he had been there. Miika swallowed, and sheathed the dagger. He stepped back, carefully, staying low to the ground, one hand near a sword, the other scraping the dirt. His whole body was tensed, every muscled coiled like a spring, and they weren’t relaxing at any moment in the near future. When surrounded by claws and teeth belonging to creatures faster than you, your adrenaline prepares you to do one of two completely insane things at a moment’s notice. But, of course, with enough predators angry at each other, even the insane becomes a good idea…
The world came to a grinding halt as the magical energies on the road began to spin in upon themselves. Santeri took a step forward, as Rasmus raised his hands, the fingers forming a cupped circle, aimed at Santeri’s chest. Henrik’s right fist began to swing, and Miika leapt over Anja’s body. Anja opened her eyes.
Watch closely, now, and try not to blink. Or you’ll miss what happens next.
The first thing to happen involved Henrik. Or, more accurately, his fist, as it connected with Rasmus’s left shoulder. The finger circle jerked apart, the air rippling and bending in a shockwave that shot out from between the rapidly spreading hands. Santeri jumped forward, the shockwave slamming into the ground beneath him. The force of the released energy propelled him forward, and he opened his arms to his sides…
Just as Peikko materialized in a ball of fire behind him, flying straight into his back, vanishing as it hit him. The entire pterodactyl slipped through the back of Santeri’s body like a pencil into water, without so much as a sound. Rasmus regained his composure in time to duck, and Santeri flew over him, twisting and landing in a small skid on the dirt road.
While this had been happening, Anja held a hand up, stopping Miika mid-air above her. She place him back down to where he had been standing originally, and she sat up. She looked around her, in a dream, in time to watch Santeri land. She held her hands up, and pushed them to the sides, in a motion that would have suggested she was trying to swim.
Or it would have, if she had been in a pond, instead of sitting on a dirt road.
Kiri flew back to Henrik, landing on the man’s shoulder, and gripped tight, trying to fly backwards. Henrik stumbled backward under the large bird’s powerful wings, and regained his balance in time to see Tuuka stalk up to him. The wolf wasn’t growling. It wasn’t acting menacingly in any way. It was, however, making it clear that Henrik was going to step back, unless he wanted his life to become incredibly short and painful. He chanced a look around, and saw the rest of the pack forcing the Guard and Order back. A look to his right showed the unmistakable figure of Sofia forcing Miika back to the tree line as well.
So the animals knew something the humans didn’t. Well, as long as Anja was safe…and standing. Slowly but surely, she was getting to her feet. Rasmus had turned and was facing Santeri, his knuckles white but glowing other colors. Santeri’s eyes were still closed. He tilted his head back, aiming his face at the sky, and spread his arms back out. Rasmus began chanting. His lips didn’t move, his eyes didn’t leave Santeri’s face, but the chant still echoed out of him, the dust kicking up and circling around his feet, which were leaving the ground inch by inch, until he was floating just above the road. Santeri’s head came back down, facing Rasmus. His eyes opened, and Herik felt himself gasp.
Santeri’s eyes had changed. The whites were gone, the iris had no color anymore. It was as if his pupils had overtaken his eyes completely, and behind them was…fire. His soul was on fire, and it was aimed directly at Rasmus. Rasmus’s chanting grew louder, and Santeri took off at a dead sprint, running toward the floating man. Rasmus lashed out, pure magical energy leaping from his body, as Santeri’s arms became fiery wings, his body quickly becoming avian as the entire thing became engulfed in fire. Rasmus swung an arm down, a blue-green blade made entirely of energy in his hand, hitting Santeri’s back as Santeri slammed into him.
There was a flash of light. And, for a moment…there was peace.
The dust began to settle back, and everyone - and everything - began to pick itself back off the ground. Henrik had a ringing in his ears, the likes of which he had never experienced to this magnitude before. He opened his eyes, and fell forward to his knees and hands, hoping that the world would stop spinning. He picked his head up, and saw Anja standing over two bodies, one of an old man, one of a younger man, both of which had seen their fair share of life. She knelt down, placing her hand over the younger man’s eyelids. She closed her own for a moment, mumbled something, and opened them again. The younger man’s hand twitched, and the fingers moved. A few inches away, Sofia sat, attending to her own wounds, her ears completely alert and at attention. On the other side of Anja was a large wolf covered in scratches, bites, and dried blood.
Anja turned, and looked at Henrik. She smiled softly, and opened her mouth. Her voice was soft, and floated through the air, dancing through Henrik’s consciousness. “It’s okay. He’s alright, Henrik. It is over.”
* * *
It is said that there are some prophecies that do not have endings. They have beginnings, and it is up to those hearing the call of Destiny to choose how they end.
It is said that, given time, the only force more powerful than the human spirit is Time itself. Although, in a universe full of uncertain futures, the human Spirit becomes an equal.
It is said that if you walk into the woods, and walk away from all civilization, you should continue walking until you reach the ancient woods, the ones that people write stories about. Deep within these ancient, historic woods, there will be a dwelling. It may be a hut, it may be a house, it may be a castle. It may be no more than a cave with a fire that was never lit. Tread carefully here, for it is from here that Destiny flows forth, meeting Time, to give History its inescapable flow.
It is said that, deep in these woods, if you listen closely to the howling of the wolves, you may just hear the chanting of a spell.
It is said that if you walk to the edge of the woods, and stand on the cliffs overlooking the world, and watch the sun rise, that, however briefly, the light becomes wings.
THE END