The White Shadow Saga: The Stolen Moon of Londor

The White Shadow Saga: The Stolen Moon of Londor Read Free Page A

Book: The White Shadow Saga: The Stolen Moon of Londor Read Free
Author: A.P. Stephens
Tags: Magic, Elves, wizard, Moon, elf, dwarf, dwarves, londor
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Randor
replied. "The Obinoth need you."
    Gildan looked up and saw that he and the
wizard were free of immediate threat, though the Obinoth were
slowly beginning to crumble. The once solid formation was now
scattered, and guidance was lost. Their advantage was diminishing.
Cries came from both armies, chilling the very spine of the
world.
    "Stand aside." Randor raised his arms. "I
need you to protect this perimeter while I conjure a spell. Can you
do this for me?"
    "Consider it done," Gildan replied, bringing
his sword up with a wicked smile.
    The relentless battle raged on a mere hundred
yards from them. If the Obinoth were to have victory, it must come
soon. Randor suddenly saw a weak point in the Rhingar's attack. To
the wizard's left, a large cluster of the enemy tarried, not
helping to contain the Obinoth.
    Sidestepping, Gildan took place beside the
wizard and suddenly felt the air around him grow cold as the spell
began.
    " Nara eth sohn
barad lei nus ten aoen ," Randor murmured, clasping his
hands together. Beams of red light blazed out from the cracks
between his palms and fingers and shot high into the canopy of dark
leaves. The bright color bathed Randor's face and reflected off his
dark spectacles.
    Blades of both Obinoth and Rhingar drowned in
the blood of their antagonists as elves from both armies were
shoved, stabbed, cleaved, and thrown. The smell of death thickened
the night air all around them as all lives hung in the balance of
war.
    Though the spell was short in verse, the
potency of this particular magic took time to establish.
Unbeknownst to Gildan, the time to release the magic drew closer.
He desired more than anything to rush to the aid the soldiers, for
the mood that possessed him made him believe he could destroy the
entire Rhingar horde by his hands alone. And yet, dangerous magic
was afoot, and he dare not cross its intended path.
    Randor's body was scorching, burning from
within. His hands blazed with an unearthly fire. With a flick of
the wrists, a blinding red light arced outward. A hundred shards of
steel streaked from his palms through the night, piercing a hundred
Rhingar as if their armor were paper. The reddish glow faded as the
screams of the dying echoed through the forest.
    "Charge, Gildan!" Randor cried as he charged
away to the clash, no longer careful of where he trod. Randor had
been silent for too long; now the battle would go to the bold.
    As Gildan raised his blade and charged,
Randor let out a vicious cry and drew back his hand to let fly with
another spell. " Nara
dhei-gen! " yelled the wizard, sending dozens of
burning white rays toward his enemies. As the light coursed through
the air, each Rhingar it touched fell convulsing on the blood and
gore of the forest floor, purged of life. In this way Randor
slaughtered the enemy, dozens at a time, eventually allowing the
Obinoth to advance.
    The spirit of the Obinoth grew strong once
more as the Rhingar retreated into the darkness ahead. Cheers
flowed from the mouths of the Obinoth as they marched over the
mounds of fallen enemies. Randor knew that the fleeing dark elves
hastened to rejoin the last of their kindred northward--the
direction also of the detached company of Obinoth. With the forest
around Gildan now cleared, the sounds of battle faded. He rallied
his army so as not to lose their prey again in this mysterious
valley. His sights still lay to the north, for their war was not
yet completed.
    "You honor me with your bravery!"
Gildan proclaimed, to which the soldiers responded with a loud war
cry, making him feel exultant. A tear of pure emotion trailed down
his pale face, and raising his sword, he yelled,
" Tu trose! "
    " Tu
trose! " the Obinoth returned in the universal cry that
meant, "Elves, to the death!"
    " Tu
trose , indeed," added Randor
with a nod. The wizard offered no other words of celebration,
knowing that the reaction was premature, for the enemy still lived,
and those many Obinoth of the detached companies were

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