Sword of the Elves (Lost Elven Realms Book 1) by Luís Falcão de Magalhães

Author:Luís Falcão de Magalhães [Magalhães, Luís Falcão de]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Legends of Elessia
Published: 2024-07-17T00:00:00+00:00

Sandelar woke up to screams. They were his own.

Pain throbbed from his leg, his arm, and his chest. His world was awash in a burning, sinuous yellow glow. The words of a dozen spells came to his mind in fragments—useless. He blinked tears away, and all he could see was a sea of orange-yellow appendages. They burned him through his clothes like whips made from molten lava.

“Bloody abyss, does everything in this godforsaken valley want to kill or fuck us?”

The yell was Frida’s, and although there was a steel borne of anger in her voice, she was also audibly in pain. But he could not spare much thought for her; the tentacles were unyielding, and no matter how much he kicked and batted at them with his arms, they pulled him farther into their midst, dragging him across the floor.

Then someone grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Now, Silas!” Gelbin shouted.

“On it!”

There was a flash of steel an inch from Sandelar’s nose and a handful of the tentacles gripping his arm fell away. Although there was no mouth to be seen, they shrieked. With another slash, his arm was free. He rolled on his stomach immediately and crawled, facing Gelbin, who was still pulling him by the shoulders. His friend had a nasty burn mark across his face; it went from his left ear down to the chin, grazing the corner of his mouth.

“His legs! Quickly now!”

“Hey, you don’t want me to miss!” Frida said.

More shrieks. The grip on his legs loosened and he was free. Gelbin dragged him to the backpack still leaning on the far wall and helped him sit. Frida and Silas joined them, the swordswoman dragging her leg even though her armored greaves seemed undamaged. Behind her, the wall wriggled with all the fervor of an ant colony that someone had stepped upon.

Despite being free, the throbbing pain in Sandelar’s arms and legs did not cease. His clothes were undamaged, but pulling up one of his trouser legs revealed a nasty burn, much like the one now marring Gelbin’s face.

“What is this thing?” Silas asked. He sheathed his dagger and rubbed his arm.

“Dead is what it is! Let’s burn the whoreson,” Frida said.

Gelbin shook his head. “We best not. We are deep underground and could choke on the smoke. Let’s move on, find someplace that’s bare stone, and treat our wounds.”

“No!” Frida said. The strength of her voice startled the others, but Sandelar understood. “This thing… it knows things! It… it messed with my mind.”

Sandelar nodded. “With mine, as well. I saw things and dreamed about things… that I could not know. This is no ordinary fungi.”

“Wait. You…” Frida’s eyes locked with his. “I saw you, and you were doing a… thing. What is the Arcane?”

“The Arcane?” Gelbin’s eyes narrowed. “How would you know⁠—”

“I saw it too, in a dream,” Silas said. “We were all in Darenhall, except we weren’t calling it Darenhall anymore, and Frida was the duchess, but… why?”

The wall creature shrieked some more and its tentacles seemed to grow, drawing closer.

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