The Pass by Zion Kistler (books to read romance TXT) 📖

was almost curious what they would be thinking about. But that did not matter, and he then looked down at the ground, and realized that the long road they were traveling on was deeply scarred with trenches that were about half a foot deep, the obvious outcome of excess rain. There were also large rocks, roots, and a few other things like small logs that Treaf would no doubt have tripped over if he had been on his feet. Mildo realized that he probably would not have done that, for he reminded himself that he was—or used to be—a scout, and thus he had been trained to notice these things.
After this he looked up at the sky, through the rain that was pattering his face and getting in his eyes—and he saw that the clouds had darkened considerably and they were swarming. His eyes narrowed.
Treaf had been thinking about various things when he closed his eyes, for the rain was getting in them, and he saw that there was a drop in the small light and swarming images that he beheld, as if a large shadow had come in front of him. He opened his eyes, and he saw that the area ahead of him looked more enveloped in shadows. He did not think anything of it—sometimes when one opened his eyes he was not used to the lighting and thus it could look darker or lighter according to his opinion.
But after a few more seconds he realized that something was not particularly normal about the lighting, and he looked up to the sky, as if this would give him his desired answers. It did, however, and he saw that the clouds had become almost black. Swirling, billowing—and then there was a loud bang, and that resounded, the outcome being a large echo, as if it had been thunder. But it was not, in fact it was something different, and Treaf continued to look up in determination. If this was the entry of what he thought it was, then he was going to have a challenge in the middle of that forest.


Chapter Seven
A Different Condition
Quite a few of them had noticed the peculiar settings in the sky, and they were all looking up in confusion. Some did not know what this meant, but Treaf did and so did Mildo. Treaf quickly went over to the back of the group where the Elder was. He was looking up like the others, though his face was contorted into a determined grimace.
“Elder!” He did not acknowledge Treaf, for he seemed to be too busy examining the clouds, but Treaf knew that he had heard his call.
“Are you going to use the Beings?” Treaf asked over the roar of the clouds and wind. Rain pattered against his dank hood, and only a blurry image of the Elder came into view.
“Yes, I am,” he replied, looking at Treaf finally. He jumped from his white horse, and he then walked over beyond the confines of the group of men, at least ten feet from the protective road. Yup. He’s gonna need some space, all right, Treaf thought, and grimaced. He prepared himself to bark out Anverfwick, but then his thinking made a halt. Would Gurvisorm Radjak Poshaden be better? Or would the Kagra—which he did not know how to cast anyway. It did not really matter, seeing as they had not even attacked yet, so he decided that he would do the Gurvisorm Radjak Poshaden. After this he grimaced, and all fear was driven from his mind.
Then there was a deafening roar. The clouds billowed and thrashed as if something was in them, and then there came to Treaf a glimpse of something—perhaps a head—except something was wrong. It was at least three times the normal size, but in an instant, before Treaf was able to look at it closer it was enveloped by clouds once more. Then all was silent. There were a few sighs of relief, as if this had been all of their imagination, but then with a blast of darkness and another huge, resounding roar three Spirits broke free. In the darkness they did not stand out, except for their partially glowing eyes, and soon they were approaching all of them on the ground.
Once their whole bodies were exposed Treaf darkened his gaze. These were at the peak of their size—in other words, they were made completely flawless. They probably have been installed with wards, too, Treaf thought, just like the Magical Beings…and that would no doubt mean trouble. Gripping his sword hard, he gazed on. There were now five of them. But he looked in front of him, lower down at ground level, and he saw the Elder. Then there came to ear a strange ringing sound, but Treaf knew what it was and allowed a partial smile on his lips. Hopefully this battle would be over soon enough.
Once the Magical Beings were all displayed in front of them the Blackwolves had drew to the distance of about forty yards, and however, no more of them were appearing, although their actions were completely inaudible, for there could be more on the way or more yet to emerge.
Then they came to the ground rapidly, crushing a few trees as they landed, and sending a small wave of dust towards all of them, although basically all dust was already gone, thanks to the rain which was keeping up at a steady pace.
Treaf was thinking about something, seemingly frozen on his horse, when they started approaching at a steady trot. They growled, though this was not menacing to Treaf. He remembered the time that he had actually been afraid of these things—though the thoughts did not come clearly, but vague, as he stared on, waiting for them to move. He was in the midst of the battlefield…all other cries of battle seemed irrelevant at that time, for there was a Blackwolf Spirit right in front of him, and in a way the beast was smiling at him—no, an evil grin, and at once Treaf’s vision had collided with that of reality. He had tried the Anverfwick curse, but the creature drew nearer, and nearer, then—there was a great roar, and he was inside a chamber, but immediately when he looked around he realized that he was beside—no—inside the creature, waiting for whatever was willing to come next. He was very weak, and could not stand, much less fight. He also had come to realize that he would not be able to fight, for any mortal or mortal weapon could not kill a Spirit, especially of this size. He remembered breathing hard, clutching his stomach…he was also too tired and weak for magic—then there came a disturbance in the energy in front of him and soon enough another Spirit had emerged, except this one was much smaller, pretty close, Treaf reasoned, to a normal wolf…then it started eating his flesh. Its eyes were level with Treaf, and Treaf had found it strange that the creature’s sharp teeth were not hurting him in the least. He only felt weaker, and when he looked down at the creature he saw that where it was biting was not giving way, but he began getting even weaker, and he had thought at the time that he was surely going to die. He had tried to whisper Anverfwick, but he could not here it when he tried to speak, so he doubted that he had said anything at all. And then there had been a scream, and then there was white light.... Treaf snapped back into attention and bent low on his horse. He could just see the Spirit’s head above the horse’s neck and head, and he noticed that he was breathing heavily. Only a few more steps…he now remembered that at the time that he had almost been killed by the spirits there had been two, two very large ones, but only one had swallowed him. That was now irrelevant as the Blackwolf Spirits drew closer, though, and soon they had come close enough, perhaps to strike.
And they did. With amazing force the closest one swapped with its paws and it hit one of the Magical Beings, which shimmered, fell, and then went out, almost dissipating. What the hell…? Treaf’s eyes widened in shock. If they could destroy the Elder’s work, how would they beat them? Treaf soon realized what had to be done, so he grimaced and barked out through the rain, “Anverfwick!” He had done this many times before, yet this time he put both of his hands in front of him, so that ten smoking arrows leapt from his hands and sped towards the foremost spirit. It seemed to absorb them, and then Treaf repeated the process. Usually after a bombardment like this it would have died, but this time, for some haunting reason, it did not.
“Damn it!” Treaf yelled, and then he tried the other curse besides the Kagra and found that this also did not work. There’s somethin’ going on, Treaf thought, and almost groaned when the other one struck and wiped out another of the Beings. Meanwhile, another one came towards all of them, and it did not do this slowly. Treaf, however, was glad to see that this one was not as large as the others: probably only about twelve feet high and doubled in length. But when it was ready to strike Treaf realized that all of them there would be killed, for they did not know how to defeat them. And thanks to their newfound strength, besides their creator, who is no doubt responsible for this, I can’t fight them either. Yes, it was definitely their maker that was the one who made their wards, which were very powerful, for Treaf doubted that a spirit could find or create something like that on their own.
Then Treaf tried killing the spirit again, but to no avail. Damn it, if this isn’t gonna work… then his thoughts went blank as the spirit made a wide swipe for his head, which he barely dodged. Its size makes its moves slightly slower than they would be if it was smaller, so that is one advantage. But…he dodged another blow, this time a large punch into the earth, which sent debris flying everywhere…but it’s size also makes up for the extra space that a smaller being would have to cover in that time. Treaf cursed as it attacked again, thinking of an alternative…he tried