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| Details |
| Author: | Josh |
| Summary: | A response to the A Voice from the Past weekly prompt. Looks at Ael's activities after his departure from Boopsie Sparkfly's funeral, and the subsequent intervention by Dame Briellen Clay. |
| Rating: | M for Mature 17+ |
Doing his best to be stealthy in his mixture of leather, mail, and plate armor, Ael edges his way around the rotting timbers of a dilapidated house. He holds his breath as he moves, as much to keep from breathing in the noxious air of the Plaguelands for a few seconds as to be more silent. Reaching over his shoulder to loosen his sword in its scabbard, Ael peeks beyond the corner of the house, and relaxes only a little when he sees the area is clear. Must’ve moved on. For now. Even as he thinks this, Ael hears a soft chittering behind him, and though he does his best to whirl and draw his blade to face his attacker, he knows it’s too late. He does manage to get an arm up, and the nerubian catches Ael’s gauntleted forearm in its mandibles with a crushing grip. Grunting in pain as the creature’s maw crunches the metal of the gauntlet, Ael scrabbles with his free hand to grip his sword, thinking all the while:
How the fuck did I even let this thing sneak up on me?
”You don’t pay attention to anything!” Cassie screamed at him, eyes red from crying, voice hoarse from shouting. Ael watched her, his guilt at her tears twisting into defensive anger in his gut. How had it come to this? They had been so in love, so happy. Every day had been full of laughter and warmth, without a single raised voice or word said in anger. Now they hardly went a whole day without a fight that ended in screaming and tears. Had marriage and a baby really changed things that much? Weren’t you supposed to be more in love after those sorts of things? The guilt and confusion and anger bubbled up inside of him, and before he could stop himself, Ael found himself screaming right back, and before long, they had once again both said things they could never take back. Yet again, both of them slept in separate rooms, staying up late into the night, wondering if they could ever recover from what had been said.
They were the last words Aelladric and Cassie said to each other before the orcs arrived.
The nerubian jerks its head, yanking Ael from the ground by his arm, and he feels his shoulder dislocate from its socket. At the same time, another chitinous appendage lashes out, slashing through his breastplate to tear a gash under his ribs. Ael screams out in pain and fury, finally getting a grip on his weapon and sliding the blade free, bringing it over his shoulder in a wild swipe. Swinging the heavy blade with one hand makes the strike awkward and clumsy, so the blow is far from fatal, but the weight and power of the Light-suffused blade is enough to crunch through the creature’s carapace, and a spray of black, pungent ichor splatters across Ael’s face and arm. The nerubian screeches and recoils, its mandibles opening to drop Ael unceremoniously to the dirt. With a snarl of rage, Ael drops his blade to the ground and uses his working arm to grip his dangling arm just under the shoulder. With a swift motion, he snaps his shoulder back into place, growling through his teeth as a faint popping sound is heard.
The creature, recovered from his strike, screeches and darts forward again. Ael is able to quickly get a grip on his blade, bringing it up to meet the nerubian’s attack, sword driving through the beast’s gaping maw to burst from the back of its head. The nerubian gives a final shriek, legs scrabbling wildly in the dirt, mandibles clattering frantically and uselessly on his sword, before finally going still. Ael takes one hand off the hilt of the blade and plants it firmly on the nerubian’s face, pushing the head away as he jerks the sword free with a squelching sound. The blade swings to the earth, point burying itself into the dirt, and he leans on it tiredly, chest heaving with deep, pained breaths.
Before he has more than a moment or two to relax, Ael hears more screeching and chittering, and he resignedly looks up to see three more of the creatures rapidly shuffling towards him through the bloated, rotting trees. Distantly, Ael wonders if this time he’s finally bitten off more than he can chew, if he might finally be put to rest. With a few staggering steps, Ael begins to move forward to meet the monsters.
”Dyin’ won’t bring ‘em back, boy.” Sergeant Donavan whispered at him, hand clutching Ael’s shoulder tightly, eyes moving between Ael and the orc encampment just beyond the tree line. Ael twisted with a scowl, unsuccessfully trying to free himself from the sergeant’s grip. Donavan grunted and grabbed Ael by his other shoulder as well, turning the young soldier to face him. “Listen to me!” he whispered more harshly, pausing for a moment to look over past Ael at the camp, then returning his attention to the young man. “I know y’hate ‘em. We all do. I know y’lost an awful lot. We all did. But chargin’ in there and getting’ yerself killed afore ya’ve gone three steps ain’t no kind of revenge. Ya maybe take down, what? One? Two? If that? Then you’re peppered full o’ arrows and stuck full o’ spears and hacked to bits with axes, and that puts you dead in the dirt and no good to anyone.” Donavan leaned in to put his forehead against Ael’s, staring intently into the young man’s eyes. “Livin’, son. That’s the real revenge. Breathin’ and laughin’ and lovin’ and doin’ all the things they tried to take away from you. That’s how ya beat ‘em.” The sergeant flashes a brief, wicked grin. “An’ if y’take down a few dozen of ‘em over the years by fightin’ smart an’ strikin’ hard when the chance comes… even better.”
Two nights later, their squad was ambushed by orc scouts, and Sergeant Donavan gave up his chance at real revenge so that Ael and a few of the others could still have theirs.
Ael hesitates, slows, then stops, facing the oncoming nerubians with a frown. He sighs and begins to backpedal instead, holding his sword up defensively. With a muttered prayer, Ael sends a wave of Light washing over himself and his cuts seal shut, his bruises fade, and the grip on his blade firms. Once the creatures get close enough, Ael releases his sword with one hand and thrusts it towards them. The soft warmth of the Light that suffuses him turns harsh and radiant, flaring out to strike at one of the nerubians, then another, sending them screeching in pain and skittering in brief retreat. The third creature presses its assault and Ael meets it with a defensive, slowly-retreating stance, giving a sharp whistle that is quickly answered by a whinny and the soft thump of hooves on dirt. A final prayer sees Ael surrounded in a shimmering nimbus of Light, and he turns to face the rapidly approaching Dolly, preparing to grip the warhorse’s reins and leap to the saddle. The nerubian strikes with claws and mandibles at Ael’s exposed back, but the attacks bounce harmlessly off the shield of Light, and the creature screeches in frustration.
The nerubian’s shrieks yank Ael’s thoughts back to the Chapel, not the Chapel today, but the Chapel a few days ago, when the Argent Dawn had first brought back the bodies of Boopsie and the others. As the frenzied creature repeatedly strikes at his shield and recoils in pain, and Dolly thunders ever closer, and the other nerubians scuttle towards him to resume their assault, and the chittering of even more begins to echo through the diseased forest, Ael remembers the horses coming in, corpses slung over their backs. He remembers squinting at the gnome’s small body, littered with bites and puncture wounds, with slowly dawning recognition. He remembers seeing the tiny form, one he had last seen full of passion and vigor and life, forever stilled, forever cold.
”Sir Grouchy, you’ll protect us, right?” Evie looked up at him, eyes wide, terrified, and filled with tears. Her hands were clamped over her ears at the scratching and snarling from outside the inn, at the crying and moaning from those barricaded inside. Ael held her close, running armored fingers through her hair, shushing her gently. He tried to say something, anything, but words failed him, and he only nodded haltingly. “And we’ll meet up with Mama again, once you get us out of here?” Swallowing over the lump in his throat, Ael nodded even more hesitantly, tears starting to form in his own eyes. He knew he needed to tell her something, to say something, but it was all he could do to hold Evie close and press her face to his chest, hot tears dropping from his face to land unnoticed in her hair. Why couldn’t he talk? Why couldn’t he tell her something? Anything?
Then there was a loud crash as one of the barricades finally gave way. The common room filled with panicked screams and angry shouts from the trapped survivors, and with growls and groans from the things outside forcing their way in. Ael scooped Evie up and brought her towards the stairs, tried to buy them a little more time. She peeked over his shoulder as he ran, and he tried to block her view with a free hand. Evie dodged him, craning her head past his hand, and continued to stare, a look of confusion and familiarity growing on her face as she watched the monsters swarming into the inn. Finally she spoke, and Ael stumbled and almost fell as she uttered just one word.
“Mama?”
Ael freezes, and when Dolly finally reaches him, rather than mounting and riding off, he slaps the horse on the rear and utters a harsh command, sending the horse galloping off into the trees, towards relative safety. He whirls around and meets the nerubian’s next strike with his blade, lopping off several chitinous limbs in flash of Light, his roar of rage meeting the creature’s squeals of agony. With a grunt of effort, Ael dismisses his concentration on maintaining his barrier of Light, opening himself up to attacks by the beasts, but also allowing him to strike faster and harder. As the other two nerubians join the first, and more begin to swarm from the trees, Ael bellows once more, throwing himself at them, those words still echoing in the chambers of his mind.
”Sir Grouchy, you’ll protect us, right?”
Dame Briellen Clay has been trained to assess a situation quickly, and she is fortunate enough to notice the fading shimmer of the Divine Shield as Ael dismisses it. The borrowed horse she rides on is not a proper paladin's steed, and possesses no particular special intelligence, but perhaps the fleeing Dolly might be reasoned with. "He needs you," she shouts to Dolly, and the moment she gets within thirty yards of Aelladric she raises a hand in a Blessing of Freedom, encircling him in a short-lasting magical coating of light to repel any incoming webbing. "Sir Leighton! There's too many of them!"
Dolly slows and then stops, seeming to look between Briellen and Ael, then with a whicker, turns and gallops back towards Ael. Ael, meanwhile, stops midswing and blinks at the unexpected blessing, looking over his shoulder. He sees Dolly first and frowns before saying, “I thought I told you-” Then he notices Briellen and his frown deepens in confusion. “Dame Clay?” Ael pauses with a grunt and looks back ahead to parry a few strikes from one of the nerubians. He thrusts out a hand with a blast of Light, sending the creatures scuttling backward briefly, then looks back over his shoulder. “What the fel are you doing here?”
"Preventing another funeral," Briellen replies, calling down a hammer of justice to stun one of the nerubians looking to take advantage of Ael's distraction. As it reels from the blow to the head, Briellen's arm crackles with Light and the creature goes up in holy flames. "The odds are against you, and there's more coming. Get on your horse while you still can."
As if to reinforce the point, Dolly begins to nuzzle Ael with her nose, snorting and stamping her hooves impatiently. Ael snarls, “You shouldn’t have come here” - whether at the horse or Briellen, it’s hard to say. He whirls and screams in fury, swinging his massive blade shimmering with the Light, striking out at the nerubians once, twice, thrice. They retreat again, but more briefly this time, and then are back on the offensive, and more and more of the creatures emerge from the trees. Finally, Ael looks over his shoulder at Briellen and Dolly, then back to the swarming creatures, then finally growls in frustration and sends out one last burst of Light to send them back, then turns and clambers into Dolly’s saddle. He glares at Briellen. “Fine!”
Much of Briellen's expression is hidden behind her helmet, but she appears to remain undeterred. She wheels her horse around. "We can outrun the swarm on horseback! Stay out of range of their webs! Come on!" She's still watching Ael just in case he decides to get off of his horse a second time.
For a moment, Ael looks as if he’s about to do exactly that. Dolly does not give him the opportunity, and without any input or command for her rider, the horse dashes off through the trees, away from the encroaching nerubians and towards Light’s Hope Chapel.
Briellen rides back after Dolly, one hand holding the reins of her own horse and the other raised, ready to cast at a moment's notice, should it turn out to be necessary. The nerubians give chase for a bit, but the horses quickly leave them behind, and the two paladins have a relatively uneventful ride back to tentative safety of Light’s Hope.