Heart of Retribution

Elis sat on the edge of a cliff, watching the chaos far below. War was not an activity he had ever imagined being involved in, but sometimes, choosing your path wasn't something within your power. Below, the landscape was covered in a thin layer of snow that fell softly, as men and women clashed with their weapons. Sword and axe met shield, sending the distinct clang of metal reverberating across the battlefield. The ground was already turning deep red, the snow making the pooling blood stand out even from his vantage point. Elis waited and watched. The generals had recruited him to help them kill their enemies, but he had accepted the offer only because he had an agenda of his own. He identified his target mounted on a horse far behind the lines and away from the violence: Amon, the chief commander of Yelish, surrounded by what looked like calamity-ranked soldiers. Each one was an instrument of destruction, capable of laying waste to a small squad of regular soldiers on their own. Four of them stood by, watching Amon. From that distance, Elis couldn't make out the features of Amon’s face, but he was certain the man was wearing a vile smile. His army was winning. Not too long ago, peace had been the regular state of things between the Kingdoms of Yelish and Ujah. Several bad decisions, two assassinations and burnt villages had soiled that peace, and now both kingdoms were in a heated war. Amon had claimed responsibility for the attacks, offering no explanation for his treachery. One of the villages had been where Elis' mother and sister lived. They were now lost to the embers. Now, Elis stood, dusting himself off reflexively. Up so high, the cold wind seeped into him and mixed with something even colder inside: rage. Steeling himself, he summoned mana from deep within, feeling it dance like reckless lightning over his body. His masters at the Academy had warned constantly that his state of mind directly affected the type of power that would manifest when he called upon it. Even now, he could see that the surrounding mana glowed with a violent red hue, as opposed to its usual yellow. None of that concerned him; Amon had to die. Elis braced himself, pooling the mana at his feet before propelling himself into a burst of light. He soared across the open field. Those fighting beneath him would have heard the sound of thunder. He didn't mind if they looked up to stare. Seconds later, he landed just in front of the calamity-ranked soldiers. The gust of snow he created quickly settled as he stalked forward slowly. The soldiers had already trained their weapons on him, no doubt anticipating his landing. Now up close, he could see Amon, and indeed, the man had a smile on his face, but there was something else—irritation? Annoyance? Amon had murdered hundreds, and he could only feel irritated by this small disturbance. That was alright; Elis would show him true fear. Without wasting time on formalities, Elis drew his sword. The first soldier stepped forward, lashing out with a sword longer than Elis’ entire body. The blade sang as it cut through the air with a speed that would challenge even the most seasoned warriors. However, Elis was no ordinary warrior. He ducked under the attack, moving even before the sword completed its arc. The soldier was clearly surprised but was prepared. In the split second before Elis was about to attack, the soldier let go of his sword and blocked the forward jab with his gauntlet. Despite his rage, a small part of Elis was impressed that the soldier could keep up with his speed. Unfortunately, he had business to attend to. He summoned flame, which erupted from the tip of his sword. The heat and power sent the soldier flying. The remaining soldiers had caution etched on their faces. Two of them moved forward cautiously, their steps crunching in the snow as they tried to surround him. Amon’s smile had faded, and he began to retreat, still protected by the last soldier. Elis grew impatient with the slow dance the soldiers were dragging him into. He summoned mana again, and once more, red, violent light crackled around him, melting the snow at his feet. The soldiers, either instinctively trained or driven by pure terror, stepped back in fear. They sensed that something was coming. Elis took a single step, crossing the distance between him and the soldier on his left in an instant. He lodged his sword deep within the soldier’s gut. The soldier didn’t have time to cry out as he crumpled to the ground. The soldier on his right, barely witnessing what had happened, positioned his shield, preparing to parry whatever was coming. Elis stretched out his hand toward the soldier as if trying to grab hold of something. Suddenly, the soldier began choking, clawing at his neck as if some invisible hand of god were squeezing him. Elis motioned his hands to compress, and after a moment, the soldier dropped dead. He turned to face Amon, who now looked shaken by the scenes before him. Elis had just displayed three different types of mage craft. The most skilled mana users could typically pull off only two. Amon and the last soldier looked at him as if he was a creature from legend. Perhaps he was, but it didn't matter; every second that Amon drew breath was an insult to the memory of his family. Elis walked forward, hands still scorched and bloodied from his two attacks. “Kill him!” Amon shrieked to the last soldier who was now retreating slowly. Showing wisdom, the man turned and ran in the opposite direction, leaving Amon alone.