The arrows were raining down, and it was a splendid miracle that absolutely none of them hit them. As she ran desperately to save her own skin, the half-elf was filled with frustration in her mind.

She could barely move without something terrible happening to her. It seemed that the days of peace, weekly trips to the market and silent training in the middle of the forest were officially over. It would be a miracle if she managed to arrive in town with her head stuck to her neck.

"PURPURA IGNIS!"

Eric launched a wave of purple fire that advanced toward the pursuers, but the mage did not stop to see if it would work. A few screams were heard. Then he caught the hand of Lariel's, who was running in an uncoordinated manner. Her abdomen was bleeding.

The rain of arrows diminished, but they were still under attack. They didn't stand a chance.

If Lariel's sense of direction was still working, instead of heading east, they were now running south. That is, just more woods for miles until they reached the headwaters of the Lani River, where the half-elf nearly drowned the night before.

"GEMINUS FULGUR!"

Eric raised both indicators and hurled two bolts of lightning haphazardly behind him. The noise of electricity filled the air for a few seconds, and just as in the first attack, the sound of screams of pain and agony rang out.

The girl could see some of the less discreet silhouettes, but instead of black robes, demonic masks, and huge hoods hiding their heads, they wore blue uniforms with military insignia.

She doesn't have time to say anything, or even the strength to warn him as she starts gasping for air, desperate for oxygen.

Just as the girl was about to fall hard to the ground, the mage looked at her and said in one breath:

"We're going to have to fight."

"Can you create another wave of magic?"

"I can."

"Then go."

The two slow down and Eric fills his lungs before attacking and shouting:

"IGNIS CAERULEUS".

The wave of fire that now spreads through the trees is the color of the sea, so bright that Lariel herself closes her eyes. She begins to look around, searching for something that can be used as a weapon.

"Here."

Eric uses his magic travel cloak/bag/backpack and pulls out a double-bladed axe. She almost cries at the sight of the weapon, thinking of her own axe and her father's, which she would never see.

Blood continues to trickle down Lariel's cut, but she ignores the pain and starts walking toward her attackers.

Apparently all the archers have been hit, for she neither sees nor hears any arrows being fired. As she imagined, the men are indeed royal guards. Why were they after them?

Well, the rule now was to hit first and ask later. She might ask Eric some questions when it was all over.

Six men gritted their teeth at her, and together they attacked the girl.

Focused on slashing and incapacitating, the half-elf faced them.

Although they were outnumbered and she was visibly bruised, they were still ordinary humans and had crucial disadvantages: they were not as agile, fast or skilled as she was.

The locked blows were difficult and complicated, mainly because of the double effort of not being bothered by the terrible pain on the left side of her body and remaining perfectly balanced. If she let her guard down, if she missed any move, it could be fatal.

Her hair remained tightly tied in her bun as she spun, attacked, defended. Two of her opponents were defeated, unconscious after she struck their heads.

"Lariel, get down!"

She crouches and rolls backwards.

"POTENS FULGUR!"

Instead of forked lightning, now several smaller, extended bolts of lightning take the form of chains, which directly strike the remaining soldiers. They fall.

Sweaty and tired, the girl throws herself to the ground, but still without taking her hand off the axe. The wizard begins to run towards her.

Shivers run down her skin as she realizes exactly how much blood she has lost. A small puddle is forming around her. The pallor on Eric's face does not reassure her one bit.

"This is bad, very bad," he murmurs as he reaches over the bruise with his hand. He closes his eyes and concentrates. "Deae clamare."

The blood stops pouring and part of her skin begins to heal almost immediately. She feels less pain at the same time.

However, the mage does not finish what he started. He gasps.

"I'm sorry, but if I continue, I may exhaust myself. I need to work ten times harder to heal than to create fire and lightning."

She opens her mouth to thank him, but her ears pick up sound of footsteps.

The half-elf makes a point of holding the axe tighter and looking in the direction of the noise.

They are slow and precise. The person is not in the slightest hurry, but they certainly know where they are going.

"Stand back," she orders Eric.

"What is it?"

"Stay behind me and get ready to fight."

With difficulty, she stands up, but very thankful that she is not as broken down as before.

"That's how many?" He asks, already taking some distance so he can fire the spells with ease.

"One."

The blonde stops walking and frowns.

"One?!"

"Yes, but you can't be too careful. Those soldiers were without an officer around. He could be coming to settle the score."

She pauses and then faces him:

"Why are officers after us, by the way?"

He stutters:

"Ah. Well, I... I can explain."

"You can explain?! So you already knew that we would be followed not only by this bizarre cult, but by law enforcement officers ALSO?!"

"Look, it's kind of hard not to get involved with a serious thing like this and not cheat a little bit to get an advantage."

"And what the hell kind of advantage are you talking about?"

"The stuff I talked about the Pavilion, Ynora, where she came from. Most people don't know that much! I was surprised you didn't question me before."

"I told you, I don't know many people and have always lived in isolation. What other things about you do I need to know first-"

The short discussion of the two is interrupted with a resounding shout:

"HOLY SHIT!"

The two just stare at the person dressed in black from head to toe, ruby red hair and sarcastic smile on his freckled face. The stranger just laughs out loud as he sees the fallen bodies around both of them and speaks:

"How selfish of you! You could have left me some!"

"Do you know him?" Whispers the half-elf.

"Unfortunately."

"And who is it?"

The mage seems to be embarrassed to speak aloud, but does so anyway:

"My cousin."