Old Oak

The rain in Swathmoore Swamp is colder than normal, the skies dark and foreboding. My Nephilim wings do not lift me from the ground as easily as they once did. I feel old… older than I should, as I drag myself, wounded and tired, back to Old Oak. The massive city is my home, my sanctuary, and it is only there that I feel truly safe. Even with the constant raids from Vicious Cycle and The Plague, I can only find comfort there. The towering city walls come into view in the distance and I feel more energized suddenly. My wings push hard against the winds and lift me into the sky.

I love to fly.

It’s the only time I ever feel truly free, truly alive. The treetops brush by me, scratching against my rough, dark skin. A moment later, all the world is beneath me and I enjoy the feel of the cool currents and thick rain drops gently caressing me as I soar toward the east gate.

The archers on the wall take aim as I approach and the gate guards call out to me. “Who goes there?” Tension fills the area and I drop down to the ground slowly, leaving my hands in plain view.

“It is only I, Selmak,” I call out, walking slowly toward them. Something is wrong. The guards are never this wound up. “What’s going on here?”

“Dark times are upon us, Master Wizard,” he returns, signaling his squad to stand down. “Come, see for yourself.”

As I head for the gate I see a large stone with the engraving of an eye planted just to the south. “Another bane,” I say to no one in particular, walking through the recently unlocked doors. Inside, things are not as I left them a day earlier. The buildings are crumbling. Some are smoldering or burning. The Tree of Life is wilting away, looking as though it could barely stand up under its own strength. A strong gust of wind sways it dangerously and a few guards jump quickly away from it, fearing it would topple over.

Without hesitation I head inside and search for Obiwan, our leader and one of the strongest Confessors in the nation. Not finding him in the temple or at the bursar, I turn and ask the nearest person if they had seen him recently. A dreary shake of the head is the only response I get. People are going hungry in the streets and no one seems to be concerned with the immanent war that is upon us.

Finally I come across a member of our Inner Council, Pickie, who is sullen at best. “What’s happened?” I ask, a heavy feeling growing in my belly.

“It’s over,” she says sourly. “Obiwan has left us.”

It takes a moment for the full weight of her words to hit me. Our leader had abandoned us, left us to the wolves, which were undoubtedly circling our fair city by now. But even so, his leadership was not the end all and be all of our lives. “We still have the Inner Council. Why not just appoint a new Guild Leader?”

“You don’t understand,” she says, tears brimming in her eyes, “he took all the gold and pawned our shop’s items. He left us with nothing!”

My jaw drops uncontrollably. “You mean we haven’t the funds to maintain the city?”

Her head shakes slowly. “When the city guards find out we have no funds to pay them with, they’ll leave us as well. The vendors are already packing up. Pretty soon the walls will begin to crumble and the Tree of Life will die.”

She doesn’t wait for me to respond, instead opting to rove off toward the temple alone. I glance around again, my eyes passing over the many inhabitants of this once great nation. I think to myself that I should feel angry, that I should want to avenge the betrayal that surely meant the end of our home. But all I can feel is pity. My heart aches for those around me, especially the weak. Those members of our nation that cannot look after them selves just yet will be the ones to feel this betrayal the most. They may not feel the pain or angst some of us are battling, but they will be left alone in a world that is not kind to the untested soldier.

One of the tower guards shouts from the distance, alerting us of impending danger from the south and a panic sweeps over the city. People scurry about, collecting everything they can carry before heading for the eastern gate, hoping to escape before the wolves arrive to tear what’s left of the carcass known as Old Oak apart. Few take the time to help anyone but them selves, and I can’t blame them really. Many of the children are left crying and confused. The recent battles have claimed the lives of many fathers, and even some mothers.

I see, in the distance, near the Wizard’s Tower, a young human girl, her muddy feet uncovered by shoes and her rags drenched from the rain. The evacuation, though chaotic, is moving along quickly, only the last few brave warriors of a once great nation remain to hold off the enemy as long as they can. I move to the child quickly, scooping her up in my arms and flying up over the city walls to the north. Landing just outside, I hand her to a young guard who is trembling. I can’t tell if it’s from the rain or the knowledge that our enemies are almost upon us, but it doesn’t matter. “Take her and head northwest. You will find sanctuary at Red Oak.”

He only takes a moment to mull over his options before nodding and turning to run off. I place a firm hand on his shoulder though, saying, “If I find that she has been left behind, I will hunt you down myself.” He hadn’t turned back around, only glanced over his shoulder. Nodding his understanding, he runs off with her in his arms.

Minutes later, I stand with a small force of warriors near the Tree of Life, ready to do everything in my power to delay this pack of predators long enough for our citizens to escape.

It is quiet for a few long moments as we wait for the battle to burst through the gates. Many of the guards have fled into the woods, taking their chances among the Nail Tooth’s and Amazons. I turn to Nicolai, the wizard who is responsible for most of my training and smile. “Never saw it ending like this.” I force myself to sound sure and confident. He only nods with a weak smile and the sound of the gate opening draws our attention south. We had left it open, hoping to drawn them inside rather than around the city where stragglers might be caught.

There are more of them than I had imagined, charging hard toward our tiny group, blood dripping from their blades already. Our city defense force has not lasted very long at all.

Nicolai quickly moves his hands in a familiar pattern and whispers a few words, calling forth the spell Cloak of Obscurity, disappearing before my eyes. I grin, knowing this battle will be quick, before flapping my wings hard and rising up above the tightly packed group of barbarians, warriors and confessors. They clash with our enemy hard, steel and blood swirling into a blinding mess. The fire of the All Father burns amidst the pack, eating the flesh of a large barbarian and I swing in over the crowd, sending a burst of lighting at one of our enemies. From behind the pack comes a volley of magical spells, their casters spilling into the city.

We are vastly out numbered, but I send a few bursts their way, flying back behind the Tree of Life for some cover. A warlock looks up to me and casts silence on me, leaving me unable to contribute for a moment. My training kicks in and I quickly counter the effect before drawing the mana from his very being, absorbing it into myself with a wicked grin. Another glance below reveals our numbers have dwindled quickly.

We are going to loose this fight.

From the behind the casters and healers near the southern wall I see Nicolai appear and take down a few of them before disappearing once more into thin air. Another Nephilim, Sunnie swoops down, silencing a few of the casters, before snaring one and cutting his throat. Pickie is deftly avoiding the swings of the slower but much more powerful Barbarian before her, rage now the obvious emotion passing through her. Behind her is Azeni, a powerful confessor, blocking the hammer of a Minotaur before scorning it with the All Father’s flame. She seems to realize the peril we are all in.

I fire a few more blasts into the ranks of mages and healers behind the main entanglement before finally taking a hard shot from another Nephilim. He seems to have zeroed in on me and is flying hard toward me. My wings are tired and I am unable to fly away, taking another shot in the ribs from below. My head aches, the marquee spell of the warlock tears through me, dropping my resistance to the oncoming mental attack. My mind is washed of all knowledge momentarily and I am wracked with pain from wing tip to toe. I collapse to the ground, hitting it hard enough o knock the wind out of me.

The warlock who had taken me down does not swoop in for the kill though, leaving it to the warriors and barbarians all around. He is disciplined enough to avoid the melee fighters and stay in the air, where it is safe.

I close my eyes as one of them charges at me, his massive axe swinging wildly over head. Concentrating with all my might, I strain against the spell placed on me, trying desperately to remember something… anything that might help me.

Averas Telefortum…

The words spring to the forefront of my consciousness and I spit them out immediately, initiating the spell of teleportation. The first place to come to mind is the northwestern tower and I find myself there before I can open my eyes again. Dragging myself up, I glance down at the remains of our nation being overrun by the wolves. There is nothing I can do for them and I am forced to sit and watch as they are decimated before my eyes.

Azeni calls for a retreat, and those that can get away, do… heading quickly for the eastern gate. I wonder how Nicolai is faring before calling forth the power of teleportation once more, bringing myself a safe distance away from the battle, to the woods north of Old Oak. A few minutes later I hear the sound of a wall collapsing and I feel a deep sorrow for my home…

…for I will never see it again.

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