“I was sleeping.”
“I could see that. Where are you going?”
I glanced up at the direction I had seen the star fall and shrugged. I didn’t want to tell him that I was on my way to Alexandria so I said, “I'm not sure.”
“You realize you're in elf territory,” Prastian said.
I nodded.
“While we don't mind your kind being here, we want to be sure there's not any trouble.”
“Are you saying I'm going to do something?”
“No,” Behast said, eying me. “You're the least of our problems. Vile Wasteland creatures are about.”
“Is that why you ambushed me? You thought I was a creature of some sort?” I felt a deep foreboding at his words. The Wastelands were far from here, and the army of Alexandria had always stopped them from getting this deep into Northern Shala. Unless my vision was true and Alexandria had already fallen.
I stared past the elves into the forest, willing myself to see all the way to Alexandria. I saw nothing, of course, but clenched my fists in frustration until I left marks in my palms. Maybe I was too slow and had failed to leave in time. If anything had happened to her…
“What are you hunting?” I asked.
“Ogres,” Demay said.
“What are ogres doing here?”
“We’re not sure,” Prastian said, “but we’ve been finding more and more creatures from the Wastelands in our forests.” He grasped his bow even tighter. “Unsuspecting people have been dying. Animals have been slaughtered. We’ve sent out hunting parties and have been searching for days, trying to find them. Yet, we’ve found nothing.”
The elf’s voice was quiet, but the rage was evident in his words. It must have been hard to contain his frustration at the thought of his people dying. I was worried too. Not for the elves or what was happening in Sharald’s Forest, but for what might be happening in Alexandria. Did Alexandria still stand? Was the princess slain?
“What about Alexandria?” I asked. “Shouldn’t the Guardsmen of Alexandria be stopping them?”
The trio of elves shared a look and didn’t say anything. I pressed them. “Does Alexandria still stand?”
“We haven’t time for this,” Prastian said. “We must leave and get back on the trail.”
“Quiet!” Behast said. His long ears swayed back and forth. “We’re not alone.”
Before we could respond, two gigantic ogres crashed through the trees. One hit Demay with his rock-sized fist and sent him soaring through the air until he crashed hard into a tree. Before the ogre could finish Demay, Prastian drew his bow and loosed arrows into the ogre’s arms, enraging him. The ogre charged Prastian.
The other ogre went after Behast. The elf drew his sword and sliced the ogre's long, scarred arms when they came into range. Instead of rushing at Behast, the ogre ripped up a small tree by the roots and used that as his club. Despite the ogre's monstrous strength, Behast held his own.
Prastian had more trouble. While he had managed to strike the ogre with two arrows, he couldn't get enough room or time to draw his bow again. He tried to keep the ogre's attention from his unconscious brother. He drew his short sword, using it much like a snake, with quick cuts and slashes. That did little to harm the ogre—just enraged him further. Luckily, Prastian's speed and quickness kept him out of the ogre's reach.
I ran to help Prastian, summoning mana along the way. Master Stradus had taught me offensive spells, but I had no idea what to use, or where to begin. I had only used my magic in this way in practice. Real combat was completely different, and I couldn’t think straight. I readied my fire, thinking I was out of the ogre’s reach.
I was wrong.
The ogre's long arms swung hard and fast. His monstrous fist knocked me against a tree. I grunted from the pain in my back. Leaves rained all around me. I scrambled up and began a spell.
Before I could say the incantation, the ogre grabbed me by the throat. He lifted me high into the air, looking at me with angry eyes. His monstrous hands closed around my throat. Spit flew from my mouth. I fought the urge to attack his arm, and instead stretched my arm towards his face, summoning red mana. His hands crushed my throat; death loomed in his eyes. Before that could come to pass, a bright crimson fireball formed in my hand. It flew into the ogre’s rotten mouth and back through his head. Brains and blood splattered the trees.
His grip loosened, and I fell to the ground. The ogre's oversized body swayed and tumbled down, crashing next to me. I put my hand around my throat and gasped. The cool night air soothed my sore throat. I stared at the ogre’s half-head, with his glazed, stony eyes, taking in what I had done. It was the first time I had consciously used my magic to harm something. Then reaction set in, and my hand started shaking. I felt like I might faint.