Rebirth And Second Chances 83 Sacrifice

Kidnapping seemed to be a common theme in this world. It was the third time I'd encountered the tactic, and honestly, it was becoming tiresome. It had failed every time it had been attempted, and you would think that people that lived for as long as the Sidhe had, would have devised more effective strategies.

Kidnapping those involved was one thing, but to include children in those plans was reprehensible.

Still, I held firm to my promise given to both Blayney and Una. I wouldn't attack, release my aura, or signal for my people to engage until we were attacked or those under my protection were threatened. I trusted that the two had a reason for and knew what they were doing, and if my trust was unfounded and both were slaughtered, I would protect the children, as wards of my House as I'd promised.

The attack, when it came, was a frenzied free for all. A half dozen Kelpie, none of them coordinating their attacks or working together, simply surged forward. Irvin was the first to be confronted. Another male Kelpie had leaped, shapes.h.i.+fting as he acted to deliver the first strike. Irvin's response was immediate, his on shape-s.h.i.+ft seamless, rearing back and pawing the air as fangs glistened and claws were extended. The sight of the two powerful and majestic instruments of battle was exhilarating.

If you'd ever seen a fight for supremacy between two stallions, males engaged in a mating ritual for the attention of a suitable female, you'd understand the ferocious and cataclysmic nature of this battle.

Screams of pain and anger. Teeth and heads lunging to gnash and bite. Rearing and tearing at each other's abdomen, neck, or flank.

Irvin may have been the first to be engaged in battle, but the rest soon responded, choosing opponents from those that had made their intent obvious.

The Kelpie children that had, at first, resisted and complained when they'd been gathered together, adopted herd instinct and began to cl.u.s.ter together. Swarming and jockeying for position behind me. They recognized, instinctively that we would see them safe. Most of them transformed into horse form, but a few, including Alma and Briano, seemed content to remain in their humanoid shape.

The chaotic give and take of battle did not detract from the surreal qualities of the experience. Watching horses, mounts and animals on Earth, people with intelligence, language, and civilization on Talahm devolve into a frenzied blood l.u.s.t was confusing. I had a problem reconciling their outward appearance, the gentle nature of horses, with the ferocity they exhibited.

On Earth, men were the only animal to make war. Sure, animals killed. But they didn't kill indiscriminately. They killed for food, to survive, to protect their young. It appeared the gift of intelligence also included the curse of war. No matter the species or race.

The two sides seemed well-matched. Neither has an obvious advantage despite the almost triple numerical advantage Haygan's men possessed. Either by design or serendipity, the individual fights progressed in such a manner that the children were never in any danger.

But the stalemate couldn't last.

Wounds that healed instantly, took longer. Blood that flowed stained the ground and a metallic miasma of smell and taste permeated the air with every breath. One of theirs was the first to fall, unable to rise after a vicious slash to the neck had severed his jugular, almost decapitating him in the process.

Then another. Moans and cries of despair joined the screams of rage as those civilians that had moved to safety reacted to loved one's being felled. A scythe of death and destruction harvesting the chaff and wheat of their lives.

Inevitable, one of our people succ.u.mbed. A slight miscalculation, desperation the other side took advantage of. I'm not sure exactly how she was injured, or who claimed the killing blow. The battle was too chaotic to allow me to monitor each individual fight.

There is no great n.o.bility in death. It is often a painful messy process. A last desperate grasping for air as the individual experiences fear, anger, and despair. s.h.i.+t and p.i.s.s being splattered to join the flow of blood as the body voids, a final indignity before ident.i.ty is lost. Shaela did not fold gracefully, surrounded by family and friends. She died in the midst of battle. Covered in blood, s.h.i.+t, and p.i.s.s as the excrements and open bowels of those that had been slain added to the disorder and ugliness that was war.

Her death had an immediate effect on Isolde. The two women had been inseparable since they'd been freed. They were a part of Blayney's group, but separate. Grouped by species, related by circ.u.mstance more than anything. They were Kelpie and needed the comfort of that familiarity. But they relied on each other, supported each other, came together at night to cry and soothe each other's fears and to soothe and protect themselves from their nightmares.

Not sisters, but family.

And Shaela's death was just one more c.h.i.n.k in the fortress that was Isolde's psyche. An additional injury that combined with the c.u.mulative pain and despair that had been her life for the past months and years of slavery and abuse broke the tenuous hold on sanity that she'd managed to grasp.

And as her sanity broke. As she knelt keening in pain, cradling the head of the only person she truly loved against her breast. As she sobbed great racking wails of grief and despair. She reminded those gathered that while Kelpie might be well-suited to physical combat; they were creatures of the fey, and possessed magic as well.

[s.h.i.+ELD!] Caraid screamed.

[HURRY!]

I had no idea why he was so concerned, but I acted. Conjuring my s.h.i.+eld, I imbued it with as much of my magic as possible. And then I mutated it. My s.h.i.+eld had always been a fire construct. A projection of Beleros and His gifts. But I had a dual bloodline and heritage now. And although I didn't know if I could, because my Spell Menu was still denied me, I didn't know I couldn't. I just did.

Will, intent, and word. All that is required to cast a spell, to use magic.

And so, I willed my s.h.i.+eld to mutate.

To grow.

And to make use of my Cyronax heritage.
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Fire and Ice do not mix. I didn't attempt to force the disparate forces to blend. I didn't want a great puddle of water or steam. Instead, I layered the s.h.i.+eld. Fire, ice, fire, ice. Thin sheets of energy compressed and formed to ignore the contrasting elements. A paradox of form and function. Stronger together than separate. The fire to protect against energy and psychic attacks. The ice to protect against physical.

I completed the construction of the s.h.i.+eld just in time. I had trusted Caraid and acted, trusting that his reasoning was sound, but I had no idea what he saw that I hadn't. Until all battle ceased. All combatants drew back in horror, attention focused on Isolde.

Perhaps it is because most of their magic is a.s.sociated with their ability to s.h.i.+ft shape, that people forget the Kelpie have another more potent magic. Belisama answered the prayers of those first Kelpies. Those innocent creatures that had been created as peace-brokers with physical transformations, evolving their bodies to be more suited for combat. But in Her anger, She also gave them something else. Something that was feared much more than claws, fangs, or poison.

She gave them the ability to expend their life force in a curse. To suicide and use the resultant explosion of magic and life energy to fuel retribution that could fester and grow. Impacting not only those that the Kelpie targeted but a widening and insidious projection of hate and anger that infested that target and would spread. Until all family members, any that shared ties of blood were also infected with that curse.

A curse that blighted growth. Levels and Ranks were immediately affected. But slowly so too was the ability to propagate. The family would wither and die out as no more children would be born.

The curse was indiscriminate. Those targeted would be infected, and the casual connections that made up the family would inevitably be tainted. There was no way to remove the curse. No prayer to Belisama to spare those suffering. The only remedy. The only solution was for the individual infected to suicide. To expend their life energy to counter the spread of the curse.

As the Kelpie that had attacked watched. Isolde acted. Her magical aura growing. Angry shades of red, black, and blue reaching out to engulf those that would kill. And in her insanity. In her grief, she released her curse. A t.i.tanic explosion of magic and life that was laser-focused to exclude those she would protect while dealing justice to those that would slay the only person she loved.

Her grief would not allow Shaela's sacrifice to go unanswered. And she gave up her own life to follow Shaela into death.