King Slayers - Prologue Pt 1
26 Years Ago
With a start, she awoke, her dreams telling her something was terribly wrong.
Sweltering heat and ashy smoke began flooding the halls of the Academy of the Spark as Arch-Mage Elena Norvello bolted down the stairs from her quarters. To her horror, a young student staggering through the smoke was stabbed in the back, and he fell to the floor, dead in moments. An armoured soldier withdrew his bloodied sword from the boy, then met the arch-mage’s eyes through the smoke and charged at her. Brandishing her magic staff, Elena swiped the weapon aside, and followed with a blow to her attacker’s temple. As the head of the staff made contact, its argent crystal flashed with light, and the impact dented the soldier’s helmet as he fell over dead. Elena looked up to see another apprentice fall to the floor with a cracked skull, struck down by a mace. Eyes of mage and soldier met again, and the latter came charging. She swung the head of her staff toward the soldier, meeting his charge with a bright bolt of magical energy. The soldier halted mid-stride as the blast hammered into his chest plate, and he doubled over, breathless. Behind him, yet another soldier appeared, holding a crossbow ready. Aiming for her head, he let the bolt fly across the hall, but as Elena raised her staff, the air in front of her shimmered. The bolt deflected, and fell to the floor harmlessly. The soldier reached for his sword to unsheathe it, but before he could complete the draw, Elena sent another wave of energy toward him. His arm was hit by the surge, snapping backwards. With a yell of pain, he dropped his weapon and fell to his knees.
More mages and soldiers took to battle elsewhere, filling the halls with the clanging of dueling weapons and the screams of the dying. Elena sprinted barefoot down a corridor, nearly tripping over a corpse, and descended the stairs toward the ground level. On the way down, she was met by another blood-crazed soldier, but a thrust to his chest from her staff sent him flying backwards through a stain-glass window, screaming as he plummeted to the ground below.
Elena found the foyer of the mages’ quarters much more chaotic than her battle on the upper level. New horrors appeared wherever she looked, from a scholar surrounded by soldiers to a dark-clad mage seemingly battling his own colleagues. Her blue robe loosely fluttered about her as she hurried down the stairs, and she was met almost immediately by three soldiers. They appeared to her as battle-rage incarnate, sweat dripping down their sneering faces and blood splattering their arms and armour. As they moved to attack, she raised her staff above her head, then brought it down, slamming its heel on the ground and sending out a shock wave which threw them backwards, wounding two and killing the third as he flew head-first into a wall.
Not knowing where to look amidst the chaos, Elena almost did not notice the blood-red bolt of magic that flew toward her, barely raising her staff in time to block it. She was staggered backward by the bolt, feeling its energy rattle through her bones like lighting in the blackest of storms. She looked up to see a mage, clad in dark robes and wielding a staff of gnarled deadwood with a black crystal at its head. As another red bolt flew toward her, Elena stood fully, readying her staff and properly blocking the attack, though its force still shook her. Enraged, she readied her own attack, sending a white bolt of magic at her opponent. The dark mage held back the assault, both hands gripping his staff as the shimmering air before him repelled the argent energy. But Elena continued and intensified her attack, locking eyes with the dark mage and sensing he was faltering. With one final show of power, her bolts melded into a wave that flared violently and overtook the dark mage. When the blaze cleared, all that remained was a tattered robe amid smoking ash, atop which rested the black crystal.
Elena fell to her knees, panting from the effort the spell had taken. Exhausted and edging on delirium, a feeling of morbidity spread through her as the battle around her continued.
The killing...
She could sense the Spark fading from the dead, feeling it especially in the lives she herself had taken. What destruction she must be capable of...
But Elena slowly regained herself, finding enough focus to look about the hall again. During her battle with the dark mage, the skirmish had progressed to where only a few fighters were left standing. A blue-robed man rushed to her side, and she recognized her colleague Warrick, one of the academy’s senior wizards.
“Arch-Mage!” he panted, his staff held low and his gaze darting back and forth between her and the battle. “Are you alright?”
“I’m not injured,” said Elena, her breathing still heavy. “What… is the meaning of this attack?”
“They’re the king’s men,” Warrick answered, pointing to a fallen soldier who bore a shield emblazoned with an image of a jeweled crown. “He’s had us branded outlaws or something. I’ve heard the soldiers shouting ‘traitor’ this and ‘filthy spell caster’ that.”
“And what of these dark-clad mages?”
“There are few. I don’t recognize any of them.”
“Whoever they are...” said Elena as she leaned on her staff to stand. “They’ll not leave here alive.”
“Arch-Mage,” said Warrick, in a voice filled with dread as he looked on at the battle. “Elena… we cannot win this fight. The academy is lost. All our work is aflame, and our students have been cut down like animals!”
“Don’t lose hope, Warrick!” Elena managed to shout as she cast a wave of energy at a charging soldier, flinging him aside.
“You know as well as I do our students are not warriors. They cannot fight. The academy is lost.”
“Not yet, Warrick! Where is Arthuros?”
“We are lost.” Warrick’s staff fell to the floor, its light fading. So consumed was he with despair, neither he nor Elena saw the flight of the arrow before it struck his chest.
Part 2 here: https://www.minds.com/CodenameWraith/blog/king-slayers-prologue-pt-2-1215386466122711040