Ahrden was walking down the street towards the marketplace when he saw soldiers running across an adjacent dusty road straight towards the City Hall. All of them were clad in light scout armour, and they seemed deeply troubled. Ahrden knew in an instant that something was amiss, so he decided to find out what was going on.
Ahrden quickened his pace and teleported when the scouts were about to disappear from his view while paying care that no one saw him. After a few more jumps he was on the edge of the square that lined the City Hall. Once the scouts ran in the main entrance, he followed them into the imposing building through the vast front door that always stood open. Ahrden caught a glimpse of the last scout as he disappeared in the Map Room, where generals and other high-ranking officers discussed the strategies and tactics in the times of war. It was rare to have a time of peace, but during that period the Map Room still served as the main place for the leaders to figure out when the next bloodshed was coming. Two guards stood before the door, but they had moved out of the way and opened the door for the scouts. Now that the scouts were in the room, they closed the door and stepped in front of it again.
Ahrden walked up to the guards with a smug and all-knowing expression, aware of what was going to happen.
'Don't make me laugh boy, get out of here,' the soldier on the right said.
'Or were you summoned to perform a magic trick?' the other asked, and both started quietly laughing, not to disturb the other in the Map Room. 'Quickly, get lost before I make you.'
Ahrden nodded, not even bothering to reply and turned around to walk out from the building. He didn't give up on trying to find out what was going on in the Map Room, but due to his little scene, he lost precious seconds. He looked around and saw two other doors leading to rooms he had never been to, nor did he know their functions. None of them were guarded, but it was evident that both were locked. He quickly changed directions and headed for the one which was left to the Map Room.
'Hey kid, I told you to get out of here,' one of the soldiers said as Ahrden approach the door.
When Ahrden got to the door, he placed his hand on the lock and concentrated.
'What are you doing there? Hey, I asked you a question!'
The soldier talked in a suppressed, while he started towards Ahrden.
Ahrden remained true to late Berton's advice to avoid teleporting in front of others unless it is absolutely necessary, because it would only further alienate him. Of course, he had already done that at the Grand Challenge, but none needed a reminder of that. This created certain risks and made situations harder, but Ahrden did his best to solve them.
Ahrden felt the soldier near him when he finished the spell and heard a loud click as the lock opened. The soldier stopped for an instant, realizing what had just happened and then started again, but this time running with arms reaching towards him. Ahrden quickly yanked the door upon and slammed it behind him, locking it a lot faster than he had opened it. An instant later, he saw the handle jump up and down violently and heard the soldier furiously bang on the door. A moment later, everything stopped, and Ahrden was all by himself.
Turning around, Ahrden swiftly examined the room, knowing that he would only have a few minutes before the soldiers could get a spare key for the door, while the matters continued to unfold in the Map Room. Ahrden found himself in a big hall with a large table in the middle, which stretched along the whole length of the room. Chairs lined it on both sides, and it could seat at least fifty people, if not more. This must have been the room where the noble guests would dine when they visited the capital.
Ahrden teleported to the wall which was separating him from the Map Room and put his hands on it. The first thing that he could tell was that the wall was incredibly thick, which made things harder. Ahrden kept his hands on the wall while he concentrated. He knew what spell he needed and said it out loud, feeding arcane into it. The cold rock in front of him started shifting, swirling as if it was becoming liquid and finally turning translucent until a tunnel formed between his two hands, and he could see through to the other room. The sound came through to him nicely, and he could make out most of the people present in the room, but his narrow view prevented him from seeing everyone. Ahrden knew that the ones on the other side of his spell couldn't detect any change in the wall, so the only problem that could arise were the two soldiers barging into this room.
'This is outrageous. The Velintenal nation is really trying to gain full control over the Valley,' a richly clad noble spoke, whom Ahrden couldn't recognize.
'Based on where they captured our scout, they are measuring us up again like they had before; they are going to start another war,' general Ferdan said.
On that faithful day when the Velintenal nation attacked the capital, Ahrden had lost both of his parents. His father William died, and with that, their nation had lost one of its best generals to ever command the national armies. The title was passed onto the obvious choice, late William's second, and this was how Ferdan became the next general of the Polenteus nation. Ahrden had never met him personally, but based on what his father had told him and from the few occasions he saw him talk at events, Ahrden esteemed him. Because of this fondness he felt towards the new general, Ahrden couldn't understand how such a well-composed man could have such a dislikeable son; the warrior prodigy Deren in Ahrden's year.
'After the last attack, we thought that they would settle down for a while, but these advancements are too soon; neither of us are prepared,' someone beyond Ahrden's vision spoke.
'We don't know how prepared they are. We haven't sent rogues to report on their status,' Ferdan stated.
'Because we honour the treaty that we all agreed on!' another high-ranking officer shouted who had his back towards Ahrden.
'No. It is because our rogues are not skilled enough to get in and out of there without being captured,' Ferdan said calmly, indicating towards the rogue-scouts in the room. 'But the Nethedral rogues must know everything there is to know regarding what the Velintenal nation is up to.'
'What good is that to us? We will never make a pact with them. They are just as worthless as the Velintenal nation,' the one who was out of the frame for Ahrden spoke up again.
'That is enough, Renthard,' the calm and measure response came from president Kirthen who also had his back towards Ahrden, but he could still recognize his rich baritone voice. 'Our quarrel is not with them at the moment. We need to focus on the issue at hand.' the president absently continued, stroking his greying beard as he was pacing around.
'The ransom?' one of the scouts asked as he stood by the door with the other two, clearly neither of them belonged to the place; both how they looked and how they acted. 'Are you going to trade back Tudron?'
Kirthen looked up, frustrated with the question of the muddy and sweat-drenched scout who saw this and swiftly looked down at his feet.
'Thank you for the timely news. You will be informed about the further developments.'
With that, the three scouts nodded in union and left the Map Room, leaving the troubled leaders to continue the discussion.
'We can't give them what they ask,' Renthard said gruffly.
After his commander, Ferdan, became the general, he moved up to be the general's second. This was the first time Ahrden had heard him talk, and his initial expression was nothing positive.
'Tudron will die at nightfall if we don't oblige,' Ferdan said.
'Can we rescue him?' someone old asked, whom Ahrden didn't know.
'This late, this far... With probably the entire Velintenal army looking over him. I'm afraid it can't be done,' Ferdan shook his head.
'On that, we agree,' his second added, glad that his superior understood that it just wasn't feasible. 'The scout knew the risk when he went on this mission.'
'That scout is called Tudron, and he is hours away from being cut to pieces!' someone else shouted.
'That's enough!' the president said, and the whole room fell silent. 'They asked for something we cannot give them, and they knew that. They did it to put a reason behind their actions and make us look like the monsters, but it matters little because they've already decided the fate of that scout. It pains me to say this, but we cannot save him, even if that means that he'll die the way the Velintenal nation kills their prisoners.'
Ahrden wanted to continue listening, but he felt too disgusted by the cowardness of his president. He felt his anger rising within him when he turned away from his spell, and in the next second, he heard the door's lock tick, and then the door flung open till it loudly crashed into the wall, with the two familiar guards standing there.
Ahrden released his anger in the form of a spell that sent a powerful pulse of energy across the room towards the guards. The arcane missile didn't harm them, but it did send both warrior hurling across the marble floor until their sliding was stopped by the wall on the opposite side of the large hall. With a flick of his wrist Ahrden slammed the door shut, then with a twist, locked it again. He then clenched his fist, which caused the lock to break. The door remained locked, but it could no longer be opened by a mere key.
When Ahrden materialized in his study, he had long forgotten what he went to do at the market, but it mattered little now. He had other things to do. Things that the leadership of his nation wasn't even willing to try.
The sun was on its way down, so Tudron still had time to live, but Ahrden knew that when it came to executing, it wasn't unprecedented that the Velintenal nation didn't keep their words about the timing, so he hurried as much as he could. He went to the bookshelf, which had all the maps from the Valley and quickly found the one which was of the Velintenal capital. His desk and any other flat surface were overly crowded with everything, so he unrolled the map in the air right before him, keeping it suspended there with both hands pointing towards it.
Basterran was famously well guarded at all times, but that wasn't the biggest concern of Ahrden. Given how much the Velintenal nation had grown over the past decades and with it how much their capital had changed in that time, he questioned how accurate was the old map he was looking at. Nevertheless, he studied it, absorbed every bit of detail from it and memorized all the landmarks that probably remained unchanged over the years. Ahrden's guess was that the execution would occur on the main square, which by his estimates should have stayed the same no matter how much the city had expanded. He remained completely stationary with his hands delivering the steady flow of arcane to keep the map in the air.
When Ahrden was done, he let his hands drop to his side and the map to the ground, then he walked to where he stored his weapons. He hung the pouch with the small runed blades onto his belt and closed his fingers around the hilt of Duskedge. The familiar touch was welcoming, and brought him comfort, but Ahrden knew he could not take it with him. With most of the rationality gone from him, what sliver remained told him that he would only lose the priceless family weapon in the mayhem that awaited, where he would resort back to an impulsive and bloodthirsty fighting style. He was proud and overly confident, but this he knew to be true. He placed the sword back on the wall and decided not to bring anything else. Afterwards, Ahrden calmed himself and took a few deep breaths. He teleported to the closes location he had been to the Velintenal capital, Basterran. From there, he started teleporting ahead always as far as he could see. Ahrden could not stop thinking about what he had heard in the Map Room and at the pub when stories were told about how the Velintenal nation tortured and killed the poor rogues they captured. This urged him to travel faster until he was but a blur cutting through the darkening forest.
When he saw the creek, which he could recognize from the map, he didn't slow. Soon he saw the outer buildings of the city, which were built after the great expansion of the capital and thus were outside of the original wall of the city. Ahrden crouched down by a tree that was right at the edge of the forest and cast several cloaking spells onto himself. The shadows were stretching longer, which aided him greatly, but all his spells hiding him and the constant teleportation ensured than no one would detect him.
The streets were buzzing with people even at this time of the day, and many seemed to be going in the same direction. Ahrden followed the flow of the crowd, safely lurking in the shadows. When someone got too close, he teleported away and continued his approach from a different direction. As he had expected it, at some point, the crowd flowed through the open gates of the city wall where several armed soldiers stood examining all who came through. Ahrden went further away from the gates and walked up to the wall after he made sure that no one was watching him. He placed his hands on the wall and pushed some power into it. The wall was too thick to use a spell on it, but he could get a feeling at what might be on the other side of it. When it felt empty, he teleported, and to his biggest relief, he materialized at the end of a dark alley.
After locating the flowing crowd again, Ahrden continued to pursue them. The closer he got to where everyone was headed, the fewer empty shadows there were to hide him, so at one point, he teleported up onto a roof and continued his approach from there. The sun had already gone down by then, and half-darkness fell upon the city broken only by the fires lining the streets and seeping through the windows.
In this darkness, Ahrden could easily remain unseen with his positioning and spells, not to mention how occupied everybody was with going towards what appeared to be the city's main square. Based on the map Ahrden had studied, the town centre was not far from his current location, but it was still easier to find it by just following everyone else. When Ahrden reached the final destination of the crowd, he couldn't help but gasp at what lay before him.
Ahrden was crouching low on the roof of the house, which was right on the edge of the main square where people gathered to see the execution of Tudron. The poor scout was helplessly rolling on the blood-soaked podium erected, most likely just for the occasion. The scout had clearly been beaten and whipped, maybe even cut based on the bruises and long narrow gashes covering his face and body.
Moments before Ahrden had arrived, the crowd had erupted in cheers, but he didn't see why. At that moment, all he could see was Tudron, who was rolling on his back in agony, clutching his right fist with his left while someone above him was cheering with both of his hands high up in the air. The guy standing above Tudron had a curved dagger in one hand, something else in the other that Ahrden couldn't quite place. He looked around and found a roof that offered a better vantage point, so he teleported to it. From there, Ahrden could still not see why the scout was so occupied with his right fist and what caused him to constantly twist on the ground in such a manner because at that moment, he was no being tortured, but he figured that it must have been from the past beatings. He then looked at the man who stood above him, and now he was close enough to clearly see what he had in his hand... It was Tudron's cut off right hand.
Ahrden was overwhelmed with emotions, and he acted instinctively. He teleported right next to Tudron, crouched down low next to him and turned the scout towards him. Tudron jerked away, expecting further pain to come. Ahrden started hearing gasps and short shouts and knew that they had to go. He firmly grabbed the scout with both of his hands, closed his eyes and concentrated. They materialized at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the entrance of the City Hall, which was also crowded with people, but it was their own people.
Ahrden's sheer will and experience made the jump successful, although the square was densely packed with people. A big circle quickly formed around them with loud screams and shouts, and Ahrden looked around to see what was going on. Kirthen was standing with a few of his advisors at the entrance of the City Hall and at the bottom of the stair spread out most of the capital, listening to what he was saying. If Ahrden had to guess from the past occasions and the mood that hung in the air, the president was telling the citizens about the terrible loss of Tudron.
'He was not worth the ransom the prisoner-cutting Velintenal had asked for, was he?!' Ahrden screamed from the top of his lungs, which was deafening in the now-silent crowd. 'The ransom was never an option, and you didn't even consider sending a rescue party!'
Loud gasps spread through the entire crowd.
'We did send rescue parties, but all failed. They barely got out alive!' Kirthen shouted, which was a first for everyone there to see, save the small circle of leaders.
'How dare you lie to us like that! I was there. In the Map Room.'
'Liar!' the president snapped.
'Ask your soldiers who stood guard.'
Kirthen turned towards the two soldiers who stood at the side, and when both looked down at their feet simultaneously, the president's face went white, and the crowd erupted.
The screaming of Tudron's wife was all that could pierce the noise as she cut through the crowd and rushed to his husband, carefully taking him over from Ahrden. Healers arrived with a wide selection of potions, and they all started working on the scout. The scene had caused the noise to die down and Ahrden stood up.
'You call yourself our president, yet you stand for none of us.'
Ahrden teleported next to the president, which caused a new wave of gasps that rippled through the square. He heard swords being drawn behind him, but no one advanced.
'I dare you to lie to us again. I'll be in every dark corner you ever see from now on,' Ahrden said as he eyed the tall but fragile president.
Ahrden stood there with a boiling head, feeling his vision turn red as he was looking at Kirthen. He wanted to hurt him so bad, but he remembered the real reason Tudron was in the state he was in, which further fuelled his rage and clouded his judgment. He knew he shouldn't do it. He knew that rage was a source of power for a warrior, but for a mage, it usually served as an obstacle. He knew that he wasn't in a state to handle what he was about to do. Yet, he wanted to go back so badly that his rage overpowered everything else.
Ahrden turned around and walked up to Ferdan, who was standing behind him with his sword drawn, ready to defend his president. Ahrden walked within striking range, yet the general did nothing, even when Ahrden had passed the tip of his sword and placed his hand on his armoured shoulder.
'My father spoke highly of you and trusted you with his life. Today I'll do the same, to honour him. You watch my back; I watch yours.'
Nobody said anything. Ahrden closed his eyes, took a deep breath and cast the spell. When he opened his eyes, he felt glad to have returned.
Ferdan seemed unaffected by his first teleportation, which was impressive on its own, as he rushed pash Ahrden towards the soldiers who stood at the edge of the podium. Ahrden remained there for a moment waiting for the monster, who had tortured Tudron, to realize and comprehend that he had returned.
When they arrived, the butcher was feverishly yelling, getting the crowd fired up about something. After they arrived, he turned his head towards them. Ahrden could see his eyes jump behind him, and when he heard many soldiers painfully dying, Ahrden couldn't help but grin at him. He waited so long for a fight where he didn't have to hold back, where his emotions could take control. No matter how outnumbered Ahrden and Ferdan were, the soldiers were not prepared to fight a mage or a general; let alone both.
Emotionally driven casting was not a commonly used technique for the ones learning magic, because the those who were not skilful enough couldn't leverage the emotional drive to channel it into the casting, and it only made the inexperienced magi cast faulty spells. For the inexperienced the sheer concentration required to successfully cast a spell ruled out any chance of mistake caused by emotions. Ahrden had read of stories where great magi could channel their emotions in such ways that they were more dangerous when emotionally driven. At that moment, Ahrden only hoped to be as good as when he was calm.
Ahrden came to destroy, and once everything was set, he didn't hesitate to fulfil his desire. He felt his cause to be just, since he wasn't planning on hurting the civilians.
Ahrden wrapped the butcher in his power and lifted him off the podium floor, forcing his arms and legs to be stretched out on either side of him. All the teleporting had already caused the crowd to erupt in chaos many times before, but the reaction to this act topped all the ones before it. The screaming and shouting were almost at its peak, but it managed to get even louder when two vividly flaring blue blades made of arcane power burst out of the levitating figure's chest. The moment the corpse collapsed onto the podium, all hell broke loose, and everyone was running for their lives.
Ahrden turned around and saw piles of enemy soldiers littering the podium, with Ferdan unrelentingly cutting down the ones who were running up the stairs to meet him. From the other side of the stage, new soldiers amassed on the podium.
Surrounded in a half-circle, Ahrden was being pushed back towards where Ferdan fought. One soldier leapt forward and thrust his sword towards Ahrden's chest but hit the now flaring wall of energy that stood between the two. The soldier didn't expect resistance there, and it caught him off guard, which caused him to drop the sword. Before the sword hit the floor, a bolt of arcane power hit the soldier in the chest. He died instantly, and the one on his left too, who received a similar missile. Both of their bodies flew off the podium from the impact.
The other three soldiers became terrified when they saw how deadly their foe was, but none backed away. One charged immediately, but he never got to finish his arching swing with the sword because his clothes burst into flames, and he collapsed, twitching on the ground. He didn't know that such fire could not be put out that easily, but Ahrden did put him out of his misery as he threw a conjured blade at his chest, piercing his heart effortlessly.
One from the remaining two turned and ran, but when he got to the stairs, he dropped dead after a higher-ranking officer sliced his throat with an expertly manoeuvred cut as he was walking up the stairs. The one soldier in front of Ahrden stood still as a statue, unable to do anything, making him an easy target for the mage. Ahrden sucked every bit of heat from the stunned soldier, freezing his body to the point where, when he punched him in the chest with enhanced strength, it literally shattered his frozen flesh and pulverized his bones. The soldier collapsed dead instantly. Ahrden turned his attention towards the approaching officer with the other soldiers at his flank when he felt a piercing pain in his thigh that almost made him collapse. When he looked down, he saw an arrow pointing out from both sides of his leg with blood dripping from it.
Ahrden immediately cast a complete shield around him, but not before another arrow flew by his shoulder, leaving a gaping wound behind. He shot his hand up it, covering it with his palm with questionable success. He heard other arrows bouncing off the shield when he thought about Ferdan. Looking back, he saw him unharmed, still dominating the oncoming soldiers, but now that the mage was out of the archers' reach, they would surely turn on the warrior.
With one hand remaining on the wound and the other pointed towards the general Ahrden cast a dome around him while he murmured the spell that would stop the bleeding on his shoulder, if only for a short time. When he was done with the injury, he used that hand to snap off the head of the arrow in his leg and pull it out from the other side. By then, Ferdan had been shot at too, but the arrows couldn't reach him either, while he was questioningly looking at Ahrden, unable to leave his defensive stance despite witnessing how no blade or arrow could get to him. Looking around, Ahrden saw that an archer stood on every roof lining the square and all had their drawn arrows aimed at him or at the general. They realised that they couldn't hit them at that moment due to some sort of magic, so they all waited patiently for either of them to be targetable again.
Ahrden could have decided to leave while they were ahead, but he was still hungry for revenge, and he saw that same hunger in the general's eyes too. He mouthed to him 'survive' to which he nodded, preparing for the shield to disappear and trusting the mage that he would take care of the archers.
Pointing at the feet of Ferdan, Ahrden cast the spell most suited for his desires and watched the wood erode under the general's feet. Ferdan noticed it too, but only when he was already falling through it and could do nothing about it. Ahrden couldn't help but smile at his fast thinking. Now Ferdan was safe from the archers in the cover of the podium, and the space under the structure was so intertwined with supporting beams that the enemy soldiers could not swarm him, only come at him one by one, and that would be more than enough help for the Polenteus general.
When Ahrden saw that no one dared to follow the deadly warrior through the hole, he looked up and teleported behind the first archer he saw. He snaped the archer's neck from behind while he held the bow with the arrow drawn back, that would have been released after the archer couldn't hold onto it anymore. The others didn't see where he went, and all the noise he made was lost in the loud screaming of the crowd who was still fleeing from the square.
Ahrden placed a few of his runed blades on the roof, lifted the quiver with a spell and kept it hovering with another. He then cast a simple spell onto the bow to suppress the sound that it would make once used then closed his fist around the handle of the floating weapon. He was not a good archer, but he could guide his arrows which more than made up for his lack of skills.
After he dropped four archers, the one who located him was foolish enough to shout and point at him rather than to just send an arrow towards him, which gave Ahrden enough time to grab the quiver and teleport behind that archer. As he materialized, he called the blades to him while drawing back the string and aiming at another archer. The startled marksmen next to him couldn't understand why the mage was not attacking him, but he cared little about it as he drew his short dagger and started towards him, but stopped immediately when the runed blades arrived. In that exact moment, Ahrden let loose his arrow, which flew with unnatural speed and accuracy and didn't even slow as it entered or when it left the skull of another hunter.
The square had only a few civilians left and was filling with soldiers, whom Ahrden desperately wanted to fight, but he couldn't with all the archers taking aim at him. He looked under the podium, but from this angle, all he could see were sudden movements which was still a good sign. Ahrden decided to change tactics to get rid of the archers and continue the fight on the ground level. No one found him at his new location yet, so he could put his palms together and cast his next spell. When he opened his hands, two fireballs danced in each, which immediately drew a lot of attention.
Ahrden leapt forward towards the centre of the square and enhanced his jump with a light spell. As he travelled through the air, he threw fireballs at each roof he saw and all cough on fire immediately. The burning spread faster than any natural one could thanks to its arcane origins. All the archers were hurrying down from the swiftly spreading fire and soon, they would no longer have a clear shot at Ahrden after losing their vantage point. When Ahrden was done, he was already on his way down from the jump, which was also slowed by a spell. He was about to teleport away when an arrow hit him in the side. Unable to maintain the spell, he fell to the ground hard and had the wind knocked out of him.
So far, Ahrden was very successful at channelling his rage into spells. He couldn't banish the look on Tudron's face as he lied on the wooden floor of the podium, nor the vicious grin of the one holding his wrist in the air. He could not go back now. Not yet.
He felt soldiers converging on him while he kept his eyes shut and concentrated on locating Ferdan. When he felt his presence, he teleported immediately. Once he materialized, Ahrden cast a dome around the two of them and fought to remain conscious. Once the general saw the now-familiar shield cover him, he stopped mid-attack and looked down at his feet where Ahrden lied curled up in a ball with his palms facing the dome.
'Good job Ahrden, great work. Let's go home now,' Ferdan said in a guttural but kind manner, unable to switch to a normal tone so fast.
'Not yet, we can't go back yet.'
They were still under the podium with wide beams running everywhere and bodies littering the floor around them. Ferdan was utterly covered in blood, and he looked tired as he panted heavily. He looked happy in a way Ahrden had only seen him once when his son chose the warrior class at the Choosing. He kneeled down beside Ahrden, trusting his shield to protect the two of them, and examined the arrow sticking out of his side. It broke as Ahrden landed, and the wound was wide with a lot of blood pouring out of it.
'Let's not push our luck Ahrden. You did well today.'
Ahrden had fed enough power into the shield now so he could let up with the channelling. His eyes filled with tears, and in the next second, he was crying. No one had ever appreciated him in a matter which actually counted for something. Now, their nation's general had just called him by his name and addressed him as he would one of his own fighters.
'You don't understand. I need this… I need to prove my worth… I need approval... I need recognition... I never had any...' Ahrden pressed the words through his lips and sat up with the help of Ferdan.
Ahrden was sobbing, gasping air in between each while the tears kept running.
'Not from home, not from school, not from my master that I don't even have… I have never been truly needed… You don't understand what it is like…'
'What can I do?' was all the general said.
Ahrden's eyes changed. The tears stopped and he wiped off what remained. The soldiers around them stood still, aware that they could not get through what was protecting them.
'The arrow,' Ahrden said, and he already conjured the spell that would stop the bleeding.
When Ferdan pulled the remainder of the arrow out, Ahrden clenched his jaw like never before, but no cry escaped him. He placed his palm on the wound while he put the other on his shoulder, which started bleeding again. He was losing a lot of blood and started feeling light-headed, but he could ignore it, unlike the pain he felt in his entire body. He couldn't make the bleeding stop entirely, but he settled with slowing it. Then he stood up and poured the rest of his runed blades onto the ground, then conjured two arcane blades that shone brightly and hummed audibly in the moment of peace.
'We go to the middle of the square for a minute. Then we are out,' Ahrden said while looking at the Ferdan.
'What about the archers?' the general asked.
'I took care of them,' Ahrden said, which caused the warrior to raise an eyebrow.
'Then all I ask is that you take me with you when you leave,' Ferdan smiled and hefted his sword readying himself.
'Watch out for the fog; you'll move slower, but so will everyone else.' Ahrden warned Ferdan.
Ahrden placed his hand on him before the general could respond and he teleported.
Right as they materialized, both he and Ferdan cut down a soldier who were close to the spot they had travelled to before the others even noticed their arrival. Ferdan gasped at the circle of fire that surrounded the square, and he put the pieces together that this was how Ahrden had gotten rid of the archers. After the enemy soldier slid off the humming arcane blade of Ahrden, he cast his own spell filling their surroundings with his signature fog. As always, it served him extensively in these close combat fights, but it was just as big of a disadvantage for Ferdan as it was for the enemy. Ahrden figured that since he evenly raised the difficulty for the others, the general's superior skills would still give him the edge over the others.
Ahrden skipped forward while battering away an axe and slashed out at the one wielding it. The soldier collapsed from the wound he made in his chest, but with the other blade, Ahrden was already defending himself against a foe. Ahrden bested him and the one that came after him too when he felt that his body couldn't continue this anymore. Instead of the warrior way, he chose the arcane way to be able to remain just a little longer.
He threw his two conjured blades at two soldiers charging at him, which gave him a moment to do what he was planning. Ahrden followed the motions with precision and called out the words loudly. From the cloudless sky, devastating lighting shot down into the middle of the warriors standing everywhere. Most of them collapsed instantly, while a lot of the others were thrown to the side.
Ahrden almost lost his footing for a moment, forgetting just how light-headed he was and suddenly felt his strength flee from him. He felt the warm blood flowing from his shoulder down his torso and knew that he didn't have anything left in him. Through the mist, he could quickly locate Ferdan, who was holding his position, although barely.
Ahrden teleported next to Ferdan and called the runed blades to him. After shoving a fast-approaching soldier away with a sudden burst of arcane, Ahrden leaned towards the general who felt his closeness and swung around while bringing his word down on him. Ahrden knew that he either got them out safely or protected himself from Ferdan's blade, so he put all of his faith into the general's fast reactions. Ferdan's eyes went wide when he recognized Ahrden just before they dematerialized.
When they arrived in the same spot they had left, the general's blade was in Ahrden's flesh but not by much. Ahrden immediately fell to his knees. His wounded body could not support him anymore, and the sharp pain from the sword was not helping him either. Their arrival caused an eruption in the crowd, which rivalled the one Ahrden had caused when he impaled the butcher torturing Tudron. Both of them presented quite a sight as the blood and wound covered general crouched to tend to Ahrden.
Ahrden looked up at the president who neared them with worry and shock in his eyes.
'Coward,' was all Ahrden could whisper before he collapsed into the arms of Ferdan and passed out.