De'Vas Chronicles Book 4: Chapter 6

The tall orc released the arrow, only for the blue bolts of electricity coming off Ash’s body like tentacles to turn it to splinters. Half a second later, he landed on the ramparts with the lightning bolts lashing out to all those around him. His body felt like it was on fire with all the magic coursing through it. He heard screams as the bolts started striking at the orcs, causing a few to drop to the ground twitching, while others were driven back.

Ash shot toward the tall orc, who he could now see was wearing a suit of black armor. The tall orc dropped the bow and pulled an axe from his belt. His face had a panicked look that shifted into a snarl. He then released a war cry and charged, raising the weapon for an overhead strike.

Ash slashed at the orc’s arm holding the axe with his Lightning Claw. He knew from his fight with Victor that the claws had left deep cuts on the dragon’s scales. He hoped it would be enough to deflect the blow and let him draw Riptide. Instead, the claws cleaved through the arm, armor and all. Ash spared a glance at the dismembered arm on the ground, then looked back at the orc.

“My arm!” the tall orc screamed, clutching the charred and bloodied stump.

BEHIND. FORM. NOW.

Ash turned at Sparky’s warning and saw several archers with arrows trained on him, too far away for him to try and rush them. He knew instantly what form for Sparky to take, and as he thought of it, the elemental sprang forth as a large eagle. Sparky released a static-laced screech as he flew toward the archers, lightning flying from his form with each beat of his wings.

Ash stumbled as he felt a portion of his magic and power leave him with the elemental, the burning in his body becoming more intense. The tall orc also saw this and pulled a dagger from his belt, which he attempted to slam into Ash’s throat, only for Ash to react on reflex. A Lighting Claw tore through the tall orc's breastplate and into his chest, the smell of cauterized flesh filling the air. The dagger fell from the orc’s hand as blood trickled from his mouth, and he started to twitch, the lightning pulsing through his body.

“Damn it!” Ash swore as he threw the body aside.

He had wanted to question the orc about where Haylee was. He could see down into the courtyard filled with large wooden cages and pens that held those captured by the orcs. Blake was also in the courtyard, using the massive sword in an attempt to break the chains on one of the cages. Eva stood not far from him, a battle axe raised over her head as she started to yell something. He only heard her declare her name before the clattering of armor drew his attention. A group of over a dozen armed orcs, wearing black armor, had just ascended the stairs of the ramparts.

They looked at the corpse of the tall orc, and their gaze hardened. The lead orc yelled a war cry and charged, the others following his example. Ash pulled on his magic, pushing it into a supercharged Bolt. When he released it, pain shot through his arm, and he winced. The sound of thunder rang as the Bolt collided with the lead orc, blowing him to pieces, and the orc behind him. Lighting spread among the group, and one even fell from the ramparts into the courtyard. Ash watched, his breathing starting to become ragged, as the orcs fell to the ground as smoking corpses. His body burned, as each breath took more effort.

Eva

Eva and the Old Bear both stood from the cedar. There was no more point in hiding. The entire camp would be focused on trying to fight or escape, the… the human. This day had been the strangest of her life. She met a real human, was taken prisoner by him, and now watched as blue glowing wings and claws formed on his body while lightning arced around him.

The humans never did this in the stories…

Lord Ash had told her he planned to attack the castle, and she had believed him, but this wasn’t a battle. She knew it would be a massacre.

She watched as Warchief Mullin tried to fight the human, only to have his arm torn off. The man who had killed their clan’s previous Warchief. The man who had challenged anyone to face him and killed those who tried. The strongest orc she had ever met was now screaming as he clutched a bloody stump.

“He’s the one who was fighting the stone dragon!” the Old Bear exclaimed.

Eva nodded.

“He mentioned that he would kill the dragon next time.”

And he had meant it…

The Old Bear laughed as thunder roared around them several times, though the storm had not arrived yet.

Or perhaps it had…

Eva gasped as the wings from Lord Ash’s back pulled themselves free, emerging as an eagle made of Lightning Magic. The beast created by the spell let out a screech before flying at the archers on the ramparts, lightning raining down from the beast onto them.

She heard laughter from beside her again and turned to face the bearkin.

“Time to decide, orc,” the Old Bear said, lifting the large sword and moving toward the castle gates. “Are you with us or your Warchief?”

My Warchief is most likely dead…

This was a slaughter, and she knew she was watching her clan die right now. Her father had warned that Warchief Mullin would lead them to ruin. He had even tried to gather warriors to confront the Warchief, but none would join him. Some even warned Warchief Mullin of what her father had tried to do. The warchief responded by butchering her father and then displaying his body as a warning.

If only the clan had a different Warchief…

She started to follow behind the Old Bear, pulling her dagger free. He gave her a quick glance, but disregarded her once she started walking beside him.

“There should be some guards by the side door,” she said to him as they neared the gate.

He grunted, then waved his hand. An earthen spike formed from the ground in front of them and shattered the door she had just mentioned. Yelling came from within as two orcs stepped out armed with battle axes. They made it a few yards before the Old Bear created two more spikes and sent them through their heads.

The Old Bear walked past the corpses, not even looking at the two men he had just killed. Eva spared them a glance, though. She knew their names after all. Then she knelt down and picked up one of the battle axes.

They made their way through the side door, which exited into the castle's courtyard. Pens filled this area, holding those they had captured to sell. Beastkin of various types, elves, dwarves, and even some orcs who angered Warchief Mullin were in those cages, all waiting for their fate. The courtyard stank from all the bodies forced so close together and with little protection from the elements. Eva watched as the Old Bear bared his teeth at the sight.

“Grace!” the Old Bear yelled as he saw the pens.

A few eyes turned toward him, but most were focused on the ramparts, where flashes of lightning and the dying screams of men were coming from.

The Old Bear raced to one of the cages, swinging the large sword at the chain. No one tried to stop him. Those of Eva’s clan either were hiding or rushing toward the ramparts with weapons, where they would no doubt die. Their opponent could fight against a dragon after all. What hope did they have?

I’m not going to slaughter people that aren’t a threat to me…

Lord Ash’s words rang in her mind as her hand tightened on the battle axe. Those words gave her a spark of hope. Perhaps she could still save her clan. She drew a deep breath as she looked around at the orcs in the courtyard.

“I, Eva of the Flint Clan, have brought a challenger for Warchief Mullin!” Eva shouted as loud as she could, hefting the battle axe over her head. “Lord Ash, the Right Hand of the Nightmare Queen, desires the title of Warchief! Submit, or be counted among his enemies!”

Thunder echoed at the end of her declaration as a warrior fell from the ramparts, slamming into the ground. His corpse twitched as smoke rose from it.

The orcs who had been hiding or heading for the ramparts froze. Some stared at the corpse, others at her. Then one moved, tossing his weapon aside before dropping to his hands and knees, then another, and another. Soon, all the orcs near her were kneeling on the ground, waiting.

That worked?

She almost wanted to laugh. She figured most would ignore her since she was a lower caste. Well, she had been a lower caste. Now, she was the herald of the new Warchief…

Then dread hit her as she wondered what Lord Ash would think of her proclamation and his new title once Warchief Mullin died. Her lips thinned as she pictured the man angry at her, then she heard thunder and began moving. She needed to stay on his good side.

Eva rushed toward a nearby pen and swung her battle axe. The ratkin girl beside the door flinched and backed away, almost running into an old dwarf in the cage with her. Both watched as Eva kept striking the chain locking their door. The fifth strike broke the chain, and she swung the door open.

“You’re free!” Eva yelled. “Just wait a bit, since Lord Ash is seeking his friends.”

The two gawked at her momentarily before rushing out of the cage’s door into the courtyard.

She turned and looked toward the Old Bear, who was embracing a gray-haired wolfkin, whom she guessed was his mate. Then Eva turned and raced to the next cage, determined to free as many as possible before Lord Ash finished fighting.