The Great War: Chapter 29
A challenger approaches
“You can teleport back to the ship, right?” Samuel asks.
Devin nods with a mild frown. “Of course I can, but shouldn’t we use the ships?”
“Keeping secrets will only hider us,” Samuel replies. “Besides, it’s faster and we can take more with us. Right now, it’s all about time.”
“You can… teleport?” Anya asks over her shoulder as she rows. Isaac shifts in his seat ever so slightly to cast her a quick glance. It’s impressive for a wizard like her to have such amazing arm strength, and yet here she is. It could be because her father was a sailor, too.
Devin folds his arms. “It’s the relocation of the body and spirit using the White Beyond, sure.”
“Semantics,” Samuel sighs.
“It’s not exactly like the theory of teleportation, but it’s close enough,” Devin simplifies.
“That’s a ‘yes’, Anya,” Isaac says with an eye roll.
“I don’t exactly fit the theory of flight, either!” Ezra adds with a wide grin.
“And yet you can still fly.”
“It’s more like floating.”
“Semantics,” Samuel only chuckles to himself. That prince has a weird sense of humor.
Isaac turns to face the approaching island, where a couple of kids are already standing at the bank watching their approach. What magic they each might possess Isaac can’t say upon glancing at them, as they each wear ragged and dirty grey clothes. While he disliked the Guardian’s policy with what wizards were allowed to wear, at least he could easily pick out the Fire wizards from the Illusionists.
“Remember, round up as many wizards and supplies as you can and bring them all to the shore. And be prepared for combat, too. Stars only know if the Guardians will make landfall.”
Isaac laces his fingers together, nervousness blooming in his gut. He’s never really been in a fight before, let alone one that means life or death depending on how well he plays his cards. He hopes that there won’t be any combat, but that doesn’t mean it can’t happen. Although he’s much more concerned for if the Guardians decide to fire on them while they’re still on the island. Devin is their only safe way back to the main ship. No doubt that small fishing boats would easily capsize or get destroyed.
“If anything goes awry, you’ll be the first one I take back,” Devin says to the prince.
“I know,” Samuel nods, his tone flat. While he does his best not to let himself appear bothered, his mind stirs with the frustration of always having to be protected from harm, even if he understands the reasons for such caution. Though it also seems like the prince has a very limited understanding for just how much power and authority he truly has at his fingertips for simply being a royal, even if his nation is small.
How shortsighted, Isaac thinks to himself. Just another example of just how simple minded beings truly are.
Lost in his world of thought, he’s suddenly jolted back to reality as the rowboat collides with the sand of the island’s shore. The prince and his guard rise first, promptly exiting the craft to meet with the adults further down the shore, who all stand and stare at the ragtag group with bewildered expressions. They’re a little far away for Isaac to read them properly, but he can feel their faint waves of confusion and frustration all the same. The message is clear: They’re not supposed to be here.
Isaac stands next as Anya messes with the oars, withdrawing them from the water and placing them carefully inside the boat. Ezra bursts into sand and flies up from his seat.
“Well, I guess we won’t be needing this thing anymore,” Isaac says as he plants his feet in shallow water, soaking his shoes in an instant. Anya hops out as well, making a small splash as she lands in the ocean water.
“I hope the Captain doesn’t mind…” she mutters quietly, running her hand along the rim of the boat as she and Isaac make their way to dry land.
“It’s just one rowboat,” Isaac replies. “He’s got a second one.”
“What are we supposed to do?” Ezra asks, his deformed figure darting around the pair. “Just find supplies?”
“Pretty much,” Isaac nods, casting a glance down the shore. The islanders have all gathered around the prince and his guard as they take command of the situation. Children stand nervously with their parents, their earlier enthusiasm for the newcomers all but gone now. “As much food as we can gather that they don’t already have. Maybe clothes, too, if there are any left.”
“Really?” Anya asks hesitantly. The thought of rummaging through other beings clothes makes her rightfully feel disgusted. Isaac, on the other hand, sees no issue real with it. After all, it’s not like they have every resource they’ll ever need for every being back on Korodon. This is war.
“Anything helps,” Isaac replies. “Let’s get moving.”
Mathew’s fingers stick to the underside of his bench as two burly crew members row the boat to shore. It’s him, Lorn, the two rowers, and about four other guys, all of them armed to the teeth with jadespark pistols and scimitars. Of course, Mathew brought with him his trusty sword, made of the finest iron ore from Frostfall Mountain. It’s one of his father’s old presents, and he’s kept the blade close to him ever since.
His magic, on the other hand…
He can’t stop the frost from spreading from his hands as he holds onto his seat, sandwiched at the back end of the boat between the wooden hull and the guy next to him. The frost nips at Mathew’s skin, making his hands tingle in a strangely comforting way. He can feel the ice crackle and pop as it’s hit by salt water and as he wiggles his fingers gently, but with luck the noise is drowned out by the waves around them and the grunts of the two rowers.
“A’ite, lads, listen up!” Lorn calls from the front of the boat. He doesn’t dare stand, lest he throw off the boat’s balance and send them all into the ocean. In his lap sits a mass of wax cloth, though what the cloth is shielding from the ocean spray Mathew has no idea. “There’s still wizards ‘ere, but that don’t mean we’re to engage with ‘em. Our main priority should be to loot and burn the place. If they decide to fight us then so be it. But that also means we’ve got to travel in pairs. Don’t want any unnecessary casualties, now.
“Yer allowed to keep one trinket. Anythin’ else goes to the Guardians as a tribute to the Lady of Light. Don’t go complainin’ about it to me; that’s just the rule. Try not to block yer path back to the boat, either, as when we leave, we leave. We’re not waitin’ on stragglers, an’ the Guardians don’t care for if we leave one or two of ya behind. But I care, an’ I don’t want any one of us dying due to stupidity. That ain’t good for moral.
“If ye loose a tool or two, don’t worry about it too much. We’ve got more back on the ship…”
Mathew turns his attention to the approaching shoreline, zoning out of Lorn’s little speech. He knows that they shouldn’t get into any unnecessary conflict with the wizards, but that won’t stop him from trying. If he can just get one of them to engage with him, that’ll be enough. After all, this is about as close to the front line as he’ll get. For now, anyways.
The boat runs aground, or at least on some high sand, and the rowers throw down their oars and jump out to haul the boat up onto the land. Mathew looks upwards, spying a small grove of fruit trees to their right and a house nearby on their left. In the distance there are incoherent shouts and loud thumbs as beings move boxes around, possibly preparing to flee from their home’s eminent destruction.
Once the boat stops, Lorn stands and unwraps his cloth-covered package, revealing torches wrapped with strips of cloth and tinder boxes. He clambers out of the boat with his full arms and begins to hand out the supplies to the others that disembark the boat, with Mathew being the last to step off.
“Here ye are, mate,” Lorn says with a smile, holding out one of the two remaining sets of burning tools to him.
“What if I don’t want ‘em,” Mathew says, a hand straying to the hilt of his sword instead.
“More for me, I guess,” Lorn replies. His smile quickly drops, and he shakes his head. “Mathew, I know what ye want to do. It’s not goin’ to go well.”
“I only came ‘cause I knew there’d be an opportunity to fight.”
“I know ye did. An’ I’m sayin’ it ain’t a good idea.”
“Yer not goin’ to back me up?”
“If ye need the help escapin’.”
Mathew just scowls back in frustration. It’s not like he wanted Lorn to help with his battle anyways, though it’s always nice to have the solace of knowing back-up is around. A solace that Lorn doesn’t seem willing to provide.
“I’d not put my neck out for somethin’ that can be avoided,” Lorn sighs, nodding towards the island in indication that he wants to get going. As the two get to walking, Lorn shoots Mathew an indifferent scowl and firmly tells him, “If ye insist so badly, I’m not goin’ to stop you. That just means I’m not goin’ to be there if ye get into a rut.”
“I know,” Mathew nods back.
“Do you, now? ‘Cause look who’s ahead.”
The two turn their attention to the road ahead of them. The island is so flat that Mathew can see from one end to the other without having his view obstructed by the terrain. A single dirt path rungs down the middle of the island, dividing it into two halves. And on the other end of the road is the collection of wizards that are due to see their homes ravaged and their farmland burned.
Mathew draws his sword, the blade singing as it slides from its sheath. It glints in the light of the cycle eagerly, waiting to spill the blood of the enemy.
“That’s a good thirty beings?” Lorn hums. “Maybe a little less. Yer going to take them all on?”
Mathew shakes his head. “I just need one, and then I’ll be satisfied.”
He’s not looking to wipe them all out. He doesn’t have that sort of strength in him as a single being. And he’s not looking to harm children, either, or any elderly. He doesn’t want to become an outright monster. But one of the younger adults might do, or if there’s a being that appears to be his age.
He tightens his grip on his sword as he makes his way towards the crowd. Already, he can hear the faint crackles of fire burning away at vegetation, the other crew mates setting to their work. Lorn eyes the abandoned homes as he trails along, trying to pick out a place that might have some valuables left behind.
There’s one wizard that Mathew is eyeing. One dressed in regal purple, giving the other wizards directions as he points and gestures wildly. He must be important for all of those adults to be listening to him. He might also be able to put up a decent fight.
Now all that there is left to do is challenge that wizard to a duel. A duel that Mathew doesn’t intend to lose.