(Authors note: sorry for late upload, internet was out because of extreme weather. Thank you for being here)
Clouds parted and split to send an orange and white bolt of heavenly fire down between them. The pillar of electric fire struck the ground next to the horseman, scaring the beast. Atticus, heart full of bravery and gut full of rage, shook off what might’ve scared others and steeled his gaze. The rider faltered from the blast and he found his opening. With spear in hand, he stomped the butt end into the ground, leaving his foot upon it as he swiveled the tip behind the passing animal’s neck and into the torso of the horseman. His aim was true and the spear skewered the man, even going so far as to bring him to a stop while the horse continued without him. Atticus kept his foot in place and slammed the other end with the man still on it down to the ground before finishing his foe with a slash of his sword.
Deep in the fight, Morell’s head whipped this way and that, trying to make sense of the mayhem found in all the clashing of weapons and shouting and even the ear-splitting sound of lightning. His whole life he’d found the prospect of lightning strikes to be as frightening a thing as any powerful force in the world. But to look upon the girl in the pointed hat and black clothes and know that she commanded such a force with a word, an insane notion touched him deep in his being that he wanted to be closer to that force no matter how dangerous. To his left, a horseman took a rounded path before coming in. He ran an angle that would bypass him and run headlong into Siouxsie who had her back turned as she tracked a rider on the other side of the group. He called to her once, a second time, a third but she didn’t acknowledge him. The horseman picked up speed.
“Siouxsie!” he called again to no reply. Before he realized it was happening, his legs were already carrying him across the dewy grass on an intercept course with the speeding steed. Panic set in when he sharply realized he’d never initiated a fight with a horseman; a terrifying magic ice beast on a freezing mountain, yes, a mounted soldier, no. As he drew nearer, the first option seemed like the most prudent. You can’t ride a fast horse toward the witch girl if there’s no horse. Morell was almost in front of the speeding animal when he whipped the mace like a person cracks a whip. The rider’s helmet must have blocked his sight as he made no deviation of his course to acknowledge the boy until it was too late. The mace swung about and caught the horse square in its leather chest plate. But instead of a glancing blow, the bulbous head of the magical club embedded itself in flesh and bone, shattering the horse’s sternum and upper leg. It emitted a pained cry of agony before collapsing mid-stride. Both the man and beast went over sideways, floundering helpless across twenty feet of grass before skidding to a stop. Wild kicking legs and pitiful whinnies sounded as the horse thrashed. On the ground next to it the rider wiggled and grunted to get his leg free from beneath his mount. He turned and looked back just in time to see Morell slowly stalking him.
“Get back!” the soldier said, pointing his sword at an awkward angle toward him. He bucked and squirmed to get free but could not. More than the pinned man, Morell pitied the horse as it groaned, and it’s flailing lessoned, succumbing to pain. His eyes misted at the pathetic sounds it created. Seeing that the soldier wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, he stepped around and approached the horse, unconcerned about being whipped with the limp broken leg. Morell’s grandfather once told him what you have to do to the horse if it becomes enfeebled.
“It’s the right thing to do.” He remembered the old man’s words. “It’s not pleasant, but it’s right to not let it suffer.”
He looked the animal in the eye before the mace came crashing down. Not far away behind him, another horseman charged Robert head-on, only to find the witch well prepared.
“Tinder and Cinder!” He shouted as a flurry of ten fireballs jumped from his hands. Each of the projectiles found their target on the silhouette of his attacker to not only pepper him with blasts but to engulf both man and beast in flame. The man screamed and gesticulated, falling backwards out of his saddle. He landed with a thick “thud”. The horse, still ablaze continued running through the center of the group, whinnying and bucking all the way out of view. The crude broken broomstick and lyythium weapon quickly appeared from the folds of the witch’s cloak. Before the rider could recover, Robert was on top of him and driving the blade deep.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
One rider cut through the group from the back at top speed. Loxo parried a blow and Prince dove to the ground to keep from being snatched. The horse exited the group near Siouxsie, swinging wide to come to a slowed halt before turning and heading back in at the same point. Her gaze followed him as he turned and rode. Undistracted for the first time since the melee began, Siouxsie took a deep breath and held her hands to face her palms toward the them as they drew closer and closer. The fog in her mind that kept her from seeing her targets before suddenly cleared and she could feel unseen power flowing through her heart and hands. As she concentrated, the rest of the world seemed to fall away and she found herself finding a secret invisible connection to her target. For the moment she wasn’t afraid. There was only the magical force racing up her spine through her head and out her mouth.
“Furious cumulus!”
Siouxsie’s aim was true. A violent bolt of light fell, striking the rider of the horse in the head causing the horse’s legs to go rigid as tree trunks. The pair dropped and went tumbling, its massive weight mashing the man still caught in the saddle time and again as it rolled like a log. The horses' kegs broke and bent at unnatural angles. Each time the rider went over, the side of his helm slammed the ground in slowing successions. “THWAK…THWAK……THWAK…………THWAK” Before finally coming to a stop.
“Dip me in honey and throw me to the bumbles…I…I hit one.” She marveled slack jawed at the smoking corpses. “Ha! i hit one i hit one! She bounced with glee.
“Well done!” shouted Loxo. “Don’t stop! Light another!” He cheered on Siouxsie so passionately that he didn’t notice the horse coming up from behind
Loxo, look out behind you!” Prince Damron called over the sounds of combat. The pirate spun around in place with his sword vertical in time to keep from being slashed, but the impact, coupled with a bad stance, knocked him to the ground.
A lone rider circled about and drove hard at Atticus, his sword at the ready. He steadied himself for the coming strike and met the horseman full on. At the last moment he jumped out of the way of the horse but hadn’t gotten his stance right before the sword came crashing down at him. A raucous “CLANG” cut the air and the lack of footing sent Atticus toppling hard onto his back and slamming his head against the ground. “Urk!” he yelped. The contact was hard indeed stunning him enough that his vision turned completely white.
“Atticus!” Hoxley called to him as she galloped to where the man lay. “On your feet, soldier.” She said, tugging and pulling at his armor to try and his girthy frame up again. “The fight isn’t over yet.” As she struggled, her eyes didn’t stray far from the horseman turning and coming in for a second pass. There was no mistake he had his sights on the two of them. Atticus remained disoriented fumbled to get an arm planted to support his weight
“I’m- I’m getting to my feet Hoxley.” He said, not moving fast enough. At this point he didn’t have a hand on his sword or his spear. “I’m coming, he just rattled me that’s all.”
“Hurry, Atticus!” She strained, pulling again with the free hand not holding her spear. “The enemy has their eye upon us!” The horseman did. Seeing the downed enemy struggling to get up, he kicked his horse harder to get it up to full speed, the horse frothing as it sped faster and faster. As the horseman was upon them, it was clear that the rider intended to trample Atticus. At the last possible moment Hoxley shoved Atticus out of the path of the horse and leapt away in time to deflect a deadly swing with her forearm gauntlet. “Sprang!” The lyythium sang out. The rider came to an abrupt stop between them, switching hands to swipe at Atticus who was still trying to get his bearings. Hoxley circumnavigated the head of the horse and thrust the length of her spear through her hand over Atticus’ head only to catch the weapon by the butt end. The extended weapon reached just far enough to block the down ward blow that would’ve killed the old man. “Sprang!” the blue material sang again. He looked upon her with hateful eyes and she returned the favor by slipping the tip of her spear between the horse and rider and slicing yet another saddle cinch.
