09. Battling the Mist by Thayne

Thayne screamed at the top of his lungs, “Ba’lle!!!!” *

Charging into the red mist that possessed the Enchanted Waterfall, he drew his last longsword, the light glistened off the blade like a pure white light. Billowy clouds of crimson welcomed him in, swelling inward in his wake. The battleground was a ruin of jumbled chaos. The soil was shattered; giant boulders were uprooted where none were before. All plant life was now ashen and gray, like grotesques jutting out of the ground, a pathetic parody of life.

Thayne’s bright sword sliced through one of the undead fae that infested the woods. The tiny sprite, its eyes sunken and hollow, let out a tiny meep before it was cleaved in half. The ranger didn’t end his assault. His lavender hued eyes ringed with crimson as he sliced through a boar, smashing its ribs and breaking off its neck. The mindless battle continued.

At some point, Thayne had been hit by pixie arrows and gouged by the antlers of some now dead beast, but no blood seeped from his wounds. The mist constantly churned and deepened around him. It continued to fuel his berserker rage by tossing more mockeries at him. A wood nymph with fangs like a vampire struck at him. Thayne killed her without pause. A young eagle swooped downward at his face, getting a good slice in before Thayne sent it back to hell.

The ranger’s eyes continued to change color, flashing golden with the spells he would cast. Fireballs destroyed what little remained of the trees and an earthquake sucked down some of the mist into the fissure that had been created.

It was pointless, and he knew it. Another faerie died by his hand, and he knew the slaughter would never end, not like this. “Dagor amin!! Thaurerae, lle naa oman gurth ale’lame naikelae amin!!”**

Suddenly the mist crackled with biokenetic energy. Red bolts danced up the tree shards, over the numerous branches. With a blast, it rocketed through the battle raged ranger. Thayne screamed as the energy seared through him, illuminating his body from within. When the lightning released its hold, he fell to his knees, dropping his blade.

He had been at this for hours. In the past, twice, someone had pulled his hide out of the mist. Both had patched him up, but as soon as he was able to stand, he charged back into the crimson death-field for another futile beating. If he knew this wasn’t the way to win, why did he continue to do battle with forces beyond his control?

This thought brought a scream from deep within his body.

“Gggggggaaaaa.. NEVER!!!!”

His teeth clinched tight giving the cry a primitive, desperate pitch of a man who has nothing to live for.

He lunged upward and shifted shape, into a mist dragon. His scales were tainted red from the surrounding ambient light. Great wings beat at the mist, sending the vapors swirling about haphazardly. Claws and teeth gnashed at the creatures he could find, any creatures, tearing into trees and possessed faeries alike. He reached his head forward and with a great howl, spewed forth his corrosive breath weapon. Trees and unlife sizzled, eaten away by the heat and acidic nature of his breath. The mist seemed unimpressed.

Thayne continued on, battling the demons in his heart more so than the endless supply of undeath that continued to creep forth from the red mist. Tears fell from his draconic eyes, as he gnashed through a centaur, then a dryad, then another and another.

Cory ..
Jexi …

His children.

He had to get free of the mist before it was too late.

With a great swoop of his wings, he took to the air. Unfortunately, something had ripped through the membrane of his wing, making flight impossible. He crashed back down to earth. The blood loss was too great.

Pashen … His reason for living.

He let out a labored breath as large draconic eye locked on an approaching orc zombie. The crimson left his eyes, leaving them a sorrowful lavender.

The eye closed, and he disappeared.

——-Translations from Elven———
*”DIE!!”
**”Abominations! You know death after you feel my pain!”