In Darkness Forged (Night Elves of Abreia Book 1) by Kenley Davidson

Author:Kenley Davidson [Davidson, Kenley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Page Nine Press
Published: 2023-01-02T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

Tal’s first odd thought was one of gratitude. The human hadn’t questioned him, hadn’t stopped to complain that she could be helpful. When he told her to go, she ran, as if she knew her presence would be more of a distraction than a help.

His second thought was to wonder why she would be a distraction for him. If she’d stayed, the truld would have focused on her as easy meat and made his own job simpler.

And his third thought was composed chiefly of swearing, as the truld caught him with the edge of a backhand swing. He’d sent the human away, yet he was still not focused on the fight.

Even for Tal, a truld was worthy of respect. Thankfully, they were solitary creatures, but night elves still typically confronted them in groups of five or more. Their incredible strength made them difficult to bring down, and their hides were tough enough that even the sharpest blades required a great deal of force to punch through to the vital organs beneath.

But not Tal’s. He had only to focus and rely on Cuan to keep the creature at bay.

As he had done with the renders, Tal opened his mind until he could sense the silver inlays along his blades. This time, however, he flooded them with power, sending his magic pulsing along their edges until they grew bright enough to make him wince.

Shadows fled. The truld howled and flung up an arm to shield its eyes. Cuan leaped and fastened his jaws around the truld’s throat, while Tal darted behind it, his glowing blades slicing deep across the back of his opponent’s legs.

The truld bellowed and crumpled to the ground, unable to stand with the tendons behind its knees sliced through. Cuan released it and darted away as Tal planted one foot and leaped up, his second foot landing in the center of the truld’s spine. One more step, and then he buried his blades in the back of his opponent’s neck, severing its spine and nearly separating its head from its shoulders. The creature crashed to the ground, face down, limbs twitching, and Tal took a moment to embrace the fierce exultation of victory.

This was always where he felt most alive—this moment when power and practice converged in harmony and made him feel whole.

Every bit of his magic—both of the night and the day—had somehow been dedicated to the dance of battle. He could not shift, but the razor edge between life and death still sang to him, and for years, he had believed himself all but invulnerable. No one had beaten him with a blade since he was seven years old, when he had first learned what his magic could do. It guided his hands, directed his steps, and even whispered in his ears of what his opponent would do next.

But then, even with all of his power and magic, Lani had been taken away in a single instant. There was no armor, no skill, no magical gift that could have protected his heart from that kind of blow.

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