One Hundred And Thirty-Eight

One Hundred And Thirty-Eight

The musicians were panicking as their destructive resonance was fading to stillness as it approached Shaeula. She opened her mouth to explain it to them, but all they could see was her mouth moving, sound silenced.

“This is a thin wall of ... vacuum. Yes, I believe it was that-that.” Shaeula smirked. “After all, wind is but the movement of air, and without air-air, there can be no sound. And...” she strode ever closer to the panicking orchestra, the lime shield of vacuum pushing ahead of her, pinwheels dancing in the misty air behind her, thin metal wires whirring softly. “... with no sound, you have no hope!”

Her pinwheels took an irregular route, sweeping to either side of her vacuum barrier before converging on the weaselkin who opposed her, wires at neck-and-chest-height taut and lethal. Selensha yelped at the danger and with further effort, the sweat dripping from her to evaporate into silvery mist, she manipulated the ritual to swallow them in mist, eliminating that batch of musicians.

She’s stealing all my tricks. I guess leaving her to defend the Boundary while I took care of other tasks has given her time to consolidate what she’s studied... Beside me Eri was cheering her on, and Shaeula paused to wave at us, before turning to the remaining armoured weasels who were trying to pin her down.

“I fear you are next!” Shaeula glared, eyeing the dozen or so opponents, calculating the angles she would need to use. As her pinwheels swept in her eyes went wide in alarm suddenly, glowing amber. The pinwheels suddenly swung back towards her, forming a barrier of wires, and she channelled her wind into a familiar shape. “Emerald Wind Prison! Second Form!”

The dome of wind formed around her and her wire wall, the swirling razor-sharp winds now facing outwards. Moments later massive explosions rained down on the area. The nearby weaselkin that were slowing her movements were caught in the barrages, mere sacrifices to take her out, and as they were eliminated, the mist shielding them, the punishing barrages of wind continued to fall, the high pressure of the impacts scattering debris in all directions. The Emerald Wind Prison held, wobbling, fragments of jade energies flaking away, drifting into the mist, but eventually the fusillade stopped.

Beside me, Eri was clutching her ringing ears, while Ixitt was muttering to himself, impressed, taking more notes.

Damn, that was brutal. Each individual attack was only nasty, but combined into that carpet-bombing style onslaught... the power of numbers, I guess. There was probably a couple of score of weaselkin mages grouped up in a defensive formation behind a transparent green barrier, and while individually a Kamaitachi was stronger, there wasn’t too much in it.

“Do it. The longer this goes... on...” Ulfuric ordered, his voice booming across the battlefield. His armour of stone was shattered in places, though he continually refreshed it, a ruddy, ruby light flickering across him. Still, he was holding his own against Grulgor, his mace fending him off, adding another massive crater to his thick steel armour, the sound like a massive church-bell booming over the battlefield as he staggered, momentarily drowning out the slow, peaceful music of pipes, flutes and whistles that a second group of battle musicians were performing. Damn, I’m going to have to iron out all those dents afterwards...

Speaking of the Kamaitachi, one was down in a pool of blood. Not dead, but clearly out of the fight. The second was still fighting valiantly, and the number of archers he was facing was much reduced, but he was studded with shafts, and his fur was soaked with blood.

The mages were gathering energy again, and I hoped Shaeula’s barrier could hold, but I wasn’t confident. Shaeula far outstripped any of them individually, but her reserves were far from infinite. The verdant wind gathered in front of the unit of elementalists, and instead of being unleashed into more explosions they formed into narrow spears of compacted air. They were crude, lacking rotation and vibration like we used, but even so...

The spears lanced forwards, cutting through the sky with a whistling sound. The first couple smashed against the Wind Prison, unable to penetrate, but the third ripped through the weakening dome, followed by two more. I heard a cry of pain, and then the Prison shattered, emerald energy raining down prettily as more and more spikes crashed through, peppering the interior.

After the passing of the blast wave, all that remained over the battlefield was a painful silence. No-one was moving, everyone wanting to see what happened next. It was then Shaeula staggered to her feet once more, her eyes on the handful of archers that remained. They saw her furious amber gaze and felt their courage leave them, and some started to retreat, wanting to be anywhere but in front of her anger.

“Farewell.” was all she said as she swept her remaining pinwheel over them.

“She... she can’t go on, can she?” Eri asked me, and I wasn’t sure how to answer. In the end, all I could do was shake my head. No, she’s done better than I ever could have imagined, but... even for her, it’s impossible...

Shaeula could hear music, soothing, restful and haunting, pipes and flutes performing a lullaby that was dragging her down into sleep, fanning the flame of the overwhelming exhaustion within. Blinking sleepily she could see Tillyae and her orchestra ahead of her, and she knew she should be using a vacuum to silence the sound, but thinking was so very, very hard...

“No, this is the end.” I agreed with Eri, as the battlefield had changed, and not in our favour.

Shaeula, unaware of this, was fighting desperately to resist the slide into oblivion. Remembering several scenes from anime where the protagonist had broken attacks on their mind by pain, she slowly raised her hand to her mouth and bit down hard, her small teeth piercing the skin. She tasted blood, before a surge of agony drove the fog from her brain. Quickly she wove a vacuum around herself, plunging into eerie silence, and surveyed her surroundings, only for her heart to sink.

“A very noble effort, princess. But in war, there is only so much one combatant can do, even if strong, like you.” Grulgor was at his feet, unconscious, the constant barrage of mental attacks the instrumentalists had been throwing at him finally weakening him enough for Ulfuric to neutralise him. Still, judging by the wretched state Ulfuric was in, one arm and many ribs broken, blood matting his fur, he had put up quite the fight. The other trolls had already been eliminated as well, either by the firepower of the mages, or by sheer weight of numbers.

“Oh Shaeula...” Eri whispered, heartbroken, and I shared her sentiment, but... I had a feeling it would come to this. We were at too much a disadvantage. But it’s not all over. I looked over at Shaeraggo, who didn’t seem sure whether he was pleased at his victory, or upset at the harsh wounds his sister had suffered. Perhaps it’s both...

“So in the end, Grulgor could not-not defeat you. No matter then. I shall.” Shaeula said, ignoring the hundred or so remaining weaselkin, mostly musicians, though there were a few scattered archers, warriors and so forth remaining. “My forces gave a good-good account of themselves. I shall have to reward them later. I do not-not suppose you would care for a duel, Master Ulfuric? Taking you all at once would be... tiring.” She sighed, more blood running from her mouth, her hands slick with her own fluids.

“Do not be foolish, princess. I may not be at my best, but even now I can handily defeat you, even without the remainder of our forces. Unless you have one last trick, I suggest you forfeit. Your noble brother does not wish to see you like this, and if you do not care for his feelings, what about those of your allies?” she followed where he was pointing to us, and her eyes went wide as she saw the agony and sorrow writ across our faces at the beating she had taken.

Shaeula looked away, swallowing, before seeming to make up her mind. She dropped her bells and pulled out another weapon, one I recognised. It was a long ceremonial dagger. “I agree, it does not-not feel good seeing them so unhappy. So I shall defeat you quickly. Prepare yourself!”

“Foolish. You may have grown, princess, but you are still too childish!” he hefted his mace one-handed. “I shall at least make this quick...”

Light flashed from her blade and Ulfuric grunted, blood spraying. He surged towards her and was about to strike when I called out two simple words. “We concede!”