War of the Soul

“It has been over ten minutes, what is taking that soldier so long?”  There was a tone of fear in his voice.  “You two, go retrieve him” he said, pointing to the two closest soldiers near the door.

Tyranius however forbid it.  “No, we cannot spare another life.  Your friend is dead I fear.”

“How can this be known?” Ser Edward inquired indignantly.  “He may very well be alive.”  Tyranius paid no attention to Ser Edward.  He just pointed to the outside from  the window.  The Arcanian soldier stood there, with a dagger impaled in his chest.  They all looked on in disgust.  A black shadow stood behind the dead soldier and lifted the corpse up.  In seconds, the body was flung through the window, smashing the glass and breaking a table before the corpse hit the ground.

“Roll the tables up to the windows.  Barricade that door.  Use the chairs as well,” Ser Edward  commanded..  The other nine soldiers had no protest and were working to bunker themselves in at the Inn.  The six other tables were rolled up against the side windows and two soldiers managed to move sections of the front counter to block the door after they loosened it enough.  Eventually they all began to form a circle in the center of the room, facing every possible entrance to the dining area.  Tyranius, however, walked up and put his hands against the visible section of the door.  His hands were on fire it appeared.  The bright orange glow pervaded the wood surface, as if consuming and destroying it but after Tyranius stepped away, it seemed as normal as before.

“A little spell,” he told Hadrian.  “And forbidden as well in the Keep,” he then added, “but certain times call for certain measures to be conducted.  The door is fixed with a spell that will ignite and blow the door twenty paces in an outward direction and send splinter fragments in every direction out there if any body heat comes in contact with the spell which is why we must keep our distance ourselves.”

“How many men are out there?” asked one of the soldiers nervously.      

“Who are they?” said another.

“Should we surrender?” still another asked.

Ser Edward saw his men were cowering.  “Maintain your stance you three.  No one surrenders their sword without my order.  And that order will never be given.  Remember, we have a wizard on our side.  The advantage is ours.”

Tyranius’ face drooped after Ser Edward spoke to a degree that Hadrian took notice.  “What’s wrong Wizard Tyranius?  Why does gloom show on your face?”  Other soldiers took notice of Hadrian’s question.  “Yes what is wrong Master Wizard?”

“I cannot hide the fact any longer.  Sooner or later, for the worse you will find out.  This is to no one’s advantage.”

“What is wrong Tyranius?” asked Ser Edward.

“I sense magic.  And not just my own too.”