The Hybrid: Chasing Destiny

The night was unnaturally dark and thick around the area of the collapse. The eerie atmosphere felt like something foul had walked the land and scarred it in its wake. So similar to the forbidding she had felt in Spectermere. It gnawed at the back of her mind and the muscles in her back tensed defensively. Her gut was telling her to run from this place. Could I live with myself if I left these people behind knowing something was wrong?

The cave-in was a massive depression filled with displaced chunks of rocks, dirt and shattered debris. It was hard to imagine anyone surviving with such weight pressing down on them. The rescue was slow, wholly dependent on the physical removal of debris while all magical intervention was focused on protection from the fell effects of the rubble. Ava bit her fingernails in agitation, unable to cope with the unwelcome feeling and the inability to assist or help.

Her presence had been detrimental, taking focus away from excavation and placing it on herself. They blamed her for the disaster and her appearance, a hybrid’s appearance, amidst this devastation had only confirmed it all the more. Oswin and Ser Derric had refocused the men and mages back to their task. But they were still openly hostile, glaring at her warily as they moved leaden-footed through the affected area. One false move and she would place everyone’s life in danger.

Oswin had gone in further to gather information and assess the situation. Ser Derric had not left her side, nor did his hand leave the hilt of his sword at his side. In the presence of the Knight Captains of Everard, he was outranked, despite being one of Caeden's personal guards. He could do nothing more than default to the prince’s last order and protect her at all costs.

It would be better to wait in the airship for news. She was only aggravating the situation further. She tapped Ser Derric on the shoulder but felt a chill bite into the fingers of her other hand. She ripped it away from the feeling in a panic, causing the Knight to flinch and partially draw his sword. His eyes scoured the area for the perceived threat.

The Frost child stood between them with her hand raised to Ava in expectation. Its face held no emotion, yet the filaments of its spirit flared. She got the distinct feeling that it was trying to hold her hand and was now annoyed by her overreaction.

“I would kindly ask that you put the spirit away, Miss Ava. Its presence will only invite further aggression,” Ser Derric whispered. “Men are not rational when afeared.”

“I didn’t –“ Ava whispered, peering over his shoulder.

Fortunately, no one had spotted the accursed creature yet. Of all the times the spirit could choose to be whimsical, it had to be now. Her irritation grew at the very thought.

“What do you want?” she asked through clenched teeth.

“If the prince insists on entwining his destiny with yours, then I will help keep him on the path. But the price will be yours to pay,” she answered.

Ava watched as Oswin argued with a Knight Captain with the lightest hair and eyes she had ever seen. She mulled over the spirit’s plan. It was risky, but sound. The condition it had proposed, taken at face value, was nothing unusual or unreasonable. A time limit the prince needed to adhere to before Ava moved on from his plans. It was sensible. Something she would have done regardless, should she get the feeling that events in the capital would not play out favourably for her. Yet, she could not help but feel like she had fallen into the Frost Spirit’s trap, the mechanics of which she could not yet see.

“Enough, mage! Be assured that Prince Caeden’s and King Raeburn’s safe extraction is our top priority, you only serve as a distraction by wasting magical resources on nonsense. Remain here and out of our way. And keep that pet hybrid of yours on a tighter lead,” the knight captain ordered.

“You can be certain that Prince Caeden will be hearing of this, now be gone fool!” Oswin raged back.

“Bah!” The Knight Captain muttered and left them.

“What is the situation, Oswin?" Ava asked him when the captain was out of earshot.

Oswin slumped and sighed, “They have established communication with the survivors below and the prince is alive, but from what I have gathered, the situation is dire. The sorcerers who accompanied them are preventing the rubble from crushing them, but they will tire, and their barriers will break. I know the situation must be handled delicately for everyone’s safety, but this is going too slowly.”

“Can you get me in to talk to the prince or the sorcerers?” Ava asked.

“They refused to let me talk to the prince. Unfortunately, my magic is useless in situations like these. It is guild code to defer the task to a magic wielder more capable of executing it efficiently. Rank does not take precedence. However, there is no small measure of political scheming involved as well. By keeping me distant, they are attempting to garner favour from the prince should their efforts to save him prove fruitful…”

“Oswin,” Ava interrupted his ramblings with a shake of his arm. “The Frost Spirit is willing to help, but I need to talk to the Prince.”

Ava scurried down the tree once she had decided on her route. The only time she was glad to have this eerie darkness over the collapse. It obscured her from human eyes while she plotted a way to the communication tent Oswin had described.

“Well?” Oswin asked as she jumped down.

“There is a way through to the tent, but I did not have time to determine the exact patrol patterns. We would have to play it by ear, and hope their sight is impaired much by this dark,” she answered as she began to unbuckle Ser Derric's chest plate.

“Milady!” he hissed, pushing her hands from his side as a flush entered his cheeks.

“Ser Derric, either your armour stays behind, or you do. It is far too noisy for a task such as this and I may need your sword arm should things go sideways.”

The knight looked at Oswin’s bemused face and then let out a resigned sigh, before setting out to loose his armour’s fastenings. They set to work helping the discomfited knight. As he stood in his gambeson and chausses, fastening his sword belt once again around his waist, Ava and Oswin hid the pieces of his armour behind the tree.

Ava led them through the area, bypassing patrols. They were not hard to spot in the distance, the light of their lanterns giving them away. A few spoke far too loudly. She picked up the tremor in their voices. Even with the protection from the mages surrounding the depression, the feel of this place was straining their nerves to the point of breaking. Ser Derric was right, they would not be rational if they found them sneaking around.

The proximity to the tainted rubble beyond the tent seemed to have a visible effect on the knight. He had a haunted look in his eyes and his breaths came out in short rasps as if the journey through the ruins had been physically draining. He attempted to stifle them as much as he could, but they sounded louder than they should in her ears.

They were close now, creeping up to the entrance of the communications tent. The sound of marching and armour clanking stopped Ava short, and she backtracked behind the tent. Ser Derric and Oswin followed suit and listened.

“Master Oswin and his hybrid have disappeared from the entrance to the ruins. Remain here and guard High-Master Earland. Until they are found, nothing and no one must interrupt him. I will not entrust the prince’s and king’s lives to a mere mage, let alone one who could be under the influence of a demonkin.”

The voice came from the Knight-Captain and his order was affirmed by two fellow knights. Ava could only guess based on their voices that they were standing at the tent's entrance. She could also hear voices coming from the interior of the tent, but they were garbled and incomprehensible to her ears. She found that strange when she could hear everything else so well.

The guard captain left, so focused on his destination that he failed to see them creep away from his approaching lantern light as he passed. She motioned for the two men to wait and snuck around to check the entrance. The two knights stood erect and on guard, their hands gripping their sword hilts readily.

She double-backed to Oswin and Ser Derric and led the two men a short distance away.

“The two guards are positioned on opposite sides of the entrance and are on high alert. It will be hard to sneak up without them noticing beforehand. Should we try cutting through the tent instead?” she whispered.

“No, Earland will notice and alert the guards before we are fully through,” Oswin countered.

“If they are on high alert every suspicious noise will need to be assessed for potential threats. We will need something for them to focus on, even for a moment. It will be sufficient time for me to take one down,” Ser Derric suggested.

“Alright, Oswin will create a distraction, then you move to the guard positioned on the left. He has a heavier set. I will take down the one on the right. Oswin can deal with Earland once we have them down.”

Malgorn had taught her a hold she could use to render a man unconscious, but she wondered if she could lock it in and keep it long enough without the man making a sound or struggling overly much. It would be difficult to maneuver it around the armour as well. It would be easier if she could shoot an arrow through his eye, or throat, but that would not serve her purpose here in the long term.

“Leave the other man to me. You go after Earland, nicking him with your dagger should be sufficient to disrupt any spells he may cast. Just a nick, mind you. Try not to injure him overly much, we still need him,” Oswin said, creeping towards the tent again. Ava stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Are you sure about this?” Ava asked doubtfully. She understood that she might not equal a trained man in melee strength, but Oswin was not any better.

“Trust me, I have my own methods in dealing with brutes,” he said cryptically and moved to the tent.

Ava looked at Ser Derric, who shrugged and crept along the other side of the tent. She followed after Oswin. The mage stopped and flicked his fingers. A small flame flickered along the ruins of a tower wall in the distance and disappeared as it reached the ground. The guards had taken notice and became deathly still. Ava scanned the area to see if any others had noticed. All were still grimly focused on their task. They were in the clear.

Oswin summoned the flicker again and this time the guards moved slowly towards it. Ava pushed the mage lightly on the back, signalling him to move. He rushed around the tent and reached up towards the man’s head. A dim blue spark shot between the man’s temple and Oswin’s fingers. Both men moaned in pain, but it was the guard's body that crumpled to the floor before her. Ava climbed over it and drew her dagger, catching a glimpse of Ser Derric choking the second by pushing the guard's neck against his own bevor. The hold he had locked around his head was similar to the one she knew, only Ser Derric was using the guard’s own armour against him.

“Accursed demonkin, I knew you would try something else,” Earland hissed, he flicked his hand to a ceremonial bowl and Ava saw Caeden’s face disappear from the clear water.

“No! You need to reestablish the connection!” Ava rushed toward the sorcerer at an angle and cut his arm as he attempted to form an offensive spell against her. The magic dissipated in a puff of white vapour as the blade made contact, but she had cut him deeper than she wished to.

Earland yelled out painfully. She danced around to his back and wrapped her arm tightly around his throat, bringing the tip of the dagger underneath his chin. A drop of blood ran down the blade as he flinched and swallowed. Ser Derric dragged the unconscious body of his guard inside the tent and then exited for the other.

“Oswin, so far you have fallen in your grab for power,” Earland croaked out to the mage as he staggered into the tent, holding his head.

“Oh, hush yourself, I have neither the time nor patience to deal with your envy. Reestablish the connection to Prince Caeden. We have a plan and need his cooperation,” Oswin demanded.

“I will not place the prince in further danger of this hybrid!” he spat toward Ava.

She tightened her grip around his neck. There was no time for this.

“Earland, Miss Ava is not the danger here…” Oswin began.

Ava spotted a rippling in the seeing water and a figure within attempting to take form.

“Oswin,” she indicated to the bowl and the mage ran to it, placing his hands carefully and deliberately around the outer edges.

“Ow. Oswin is that you?” a female voice echoed from the water.

“Elise?” Oswin answered.

“Elise! Warn the Prince…” Earland shouted, and Ava wrestled him to the ground. She made sure her grip on his neck was punishing.

“Stop trying to use hydromancy, Oswin. You are making my headache worse. I will retain the connection from my side.”

“Are you sure? I wished Earland could do this. But he is proving to be – non-compliant.” Oswin’s hands fell limply to his side and trembled slightly.

“It is fine, Eliza is injured but can maintain the barrier.”

“Oswin, tell me you have a plan. I doubt we can survive down here any longer. The air grows darker and heavier with each passing moment,” Caeden interjected. He sounded pained and exhausted.

“Yes, Ava has said the Frost Spirit has offered to help. She will remove the rubble.”

There was a pause on the other end, so long that Ava broke her hold of Earland but kept a firm hand on his back and peered into the bowl. The image was unclear, but he was still there.

“The Frost Spirit offered,” he began suspiciously. “Fine. What is needed from our side?”

“To do it she will need to revert to her true form, The Whirlwind of Spectermere,” Ava said, relinquishing Earland to Ser Derric and going to Oswin’s side before the bowl. “The sorcerers with you need to reinforce their barriers as much as they possibly can. She will be at her most powerful and her most volatile. If their barriers do not hold long enough for her to clear the rubble, she could end up freezing you in place, enemy or not.”

“It is risky, but right now it is the only viable option we have to extract you quickly,” Oswin added.

“Madness!” Earland added. “Why would the Frost Spirit do such a thing for mere mortals? They have been indifferent to our plights since time immemorial!”

“Why indeed,” Caeden added dryly. “Can you manage it?”

“We have no other choice. I feel a shift in the flow of the profane. We must leave now. I will use whatever remaining power I have left,” a weak female voice drifted through the water from a distance.

“I will reinforce it with all I have as well, but I cannot retain this connection at the same time,” Elise added.

“I will retain it,” Earland said angrily as he wrapped his robe’s sleeve tightly around the cut in his arm. “Gods help us all if this plan fails.”