Alpha Instinct-Chapter 39: "The Hand of Fate"
Chapter 39: "The Hand of Fate"
Roland's breathing was steady and rhythmic as he carried Elizabeth through the dense forest. The sound of their pursuers' footsteps grew behind them. The King's guards were closing in, like a pack of wolves on the hunt. Elizabeth's breathing was shallow, her body limp in Roland's arms, but he couldn't stop. Her life was hanging by a thread, and if they paused, so would his.
The forest was a labyrinth of shadows and gnarled roots; the moonlight barely penetrated the canopy of trees, which resembled a great awning above them. Roland's instincts screamed for him to keep moving, to find a place to hide, but the weight of Elizabeth's injuries and his own exhaustion made each step a struggle. He could feel the dampness of her blood soaking through her dress.
"Hold on," Roland whispered, his voice barely audible amidst the background noise of some animals. "Just a little further."
Elizabeth stirred weakly, her eyes fluttering open. "Roland..." she murmured, her voice faint. "Let me... You can't save both of us."
Tired of carrying her in his arms, Roland asked her to go onto his back. He held her firmly but gently as she rested her face on his shoulder. "I told you, it's not an option. Now rest," Roland said calmly, tightening her legs against his waist to keep her secure. "I won't lose you too."
The sound of voices grew steadily; the torches of the King's guards began to glow in the distance through the trees. Roland's mind raced with every possible move in that moment. He needed a plan, and he needed it fast. He couldn't fight them in his current state. But he couldn't outrun them either with Elizabeth on his back.
As if the forest itself had heard his desperation, a large, glowing crystal appeared in his sight, like a divine whisper blowing a crazy idea into his mind. Roland froze, his senses on high alert. The crystal moved millimeter by millimeter, and he confirmed it; staying there would be dangerous, and he wanted to use that to his advantage.
It was a Rock Fractus, a Leirion. The massive creature was about to emerge from the shadows; its corpulent, gorilla-like form, dominated by the large, glowing crystal embedded in its head, would soon be illuminated by the moonlight due to the commotion of the guards in that closed forest.
Roland slowly circled around at a safe distance from the large crystal and positioned Elizabeth among small bushes behind a large tree, hiding her from danger.
Elizabeth gave a soft moan of pain as she was placed on the ground. "Please... be careful," her voice was barely audible.
"Please, don't move; stay very still, no matter what," Roland asked with a serious face and urgent voice.
Roland then turned to the front of the immense Fractus and waited for the guards to approach while hiding behind a large tree. He meditated in his mind so as not to emanate any energy of presence. He could feel the thrumming of the Leirion's power radiating from the crystal.
"Look, it's a Fractus." Murmurs among the guards were heard. "Silence, you morons," said the leader of the group, an experienced Neumond, probably a battalion captain.
The guards moved like felines in the dense forest, trained not to make any noise or attract attention in this kind of situation. When they were a few meters away to begin the overtaking of the fearsome Leirion, Roland acted.
With all his might, he threw a stone; the loud whiz of the stone cutting through the wind caught the guards' attention, who only followed the crossing of the thrown projectile with their eyes.
"CLACK!" It was a bullseye. The stone hit with praise directly on the tip of the large crystal and rolled through its large rocks until it touched the ground.
Without even thinking, Roland hurried over to Elizabeth; the mess was done. He needed to get the giant Leirion's attention to turn him against the King's men. It was a risky move, but he had no other choice.
The ground began to shake as if the continent was about to split in two. A guttural roar left the nearby guards disoriented, who put their hands against their ears. A pointless action for such a loud noise.
A colossus 14 meters high emerged from the ground, tearing roots and bushes nearby. He rose already in a frenzy, understanding that the stone that was thrown at him was a challenge, a dispute of territory by humans.
His enormous arm unleashed a powerful first strike that sent a shockwave of wind sweeping through the air. The first guard he saw took a swift and merciless slap, his body contorted into a web of twisted flesh encased in metal armor. He soared dozens of meters before his lifeless body slammed into a nearby tree.
"Let's go!" Roland said as he picked up Elizabeth on his back, this time there was not so much time for niceties, and she moaned frankly.
Elizabeth nodded, her eyes closing as she tried to conserve her strength due to the sudden thud. Roland looked back, saw the immense colossus with such fury, making the earth shake with every step and every blow. He held on tightly to Elizabeth's legs, who shared his back with his greatsword.
The forest erupted into chaos. The King's men screamed as the Fractus tore through their ranks, his giant stone hands shattering flesh and breaking bones. Roland didn't look back anymore. He ran with Elizabeth while controlling his breathing, the sounds of the carnage disappearing behind them.
They ran for what seemed like hours, the forest getting darker and quieter with every step. Roland's legs burned, and his arms ached as he held Elizabeth, who was slipping off his back, no longer having strength, but he didn't stop. Until he saw the faint glow of a lantern in the distance, at the edge of a small stream.
A small cabin stood at the edge of the forest, its windows glowing with a warm orange light. Roland put Elizabeth back on the ground and her back against a tree. He then approached cautiously, his sword in hand. He knocked on the door, his voice hoarse, breathless. "Hello? Is anyone there?"
The door creaked open, revealing an old man with a weathered face and a fisherman's hat. His eyes widened in recognition. "Roland? Is that you?"
Roland blinked, his mind struggling to process the familiar face. "Thomas?"
Roland then ran and picked up Elizabeth carefully; her injuries were already at their limit, and she needed urgent care.
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Thomas smiled for a few seconds, and soon his face gave way to a confused expression, his eyes wrinkling at the corners. "Long time no see, old friend. Come in, come in. You both look like a wreck."
Roland didn't argue. He carried Elizabeth inside. Thomas ran and placed a cot near the fire, watching the scene unfold. Roland then laid Elizabeth down comfortably. Thomas picked up a bowl of water and some clean cloths; his movements were quick and efficient.
He examined Elizabeth's arm, noting the deep laceration and the surrounding ecchymosis. "This needs sutures," he muttered, "and we'll need to keep an eye on her for signs of infection."
"Who is this?" Thomas asked, his voice gentle as he tended to Elizabeth's wounds.
"A friend," Roland said, his voice tense. "She's been through a lot."
Thomas nodded, his expression somber. "I'll do what I can."
"May the seven Gods bless you, Thomas." Roland sighed. "Finding you now was nothing short of a miracle."
"You can count on me, commander. I owe you one." Thomas said, regaining Roland's attention, who looked at him with a faint smile. "I'll never forget what you did for me in the battle against the trench orcs."
Roland nodded his head and patted Thomas on the shoulder as a sign of "We're even." Getting up and moving away, leaving Thomas to work.
While Elizabeth rested, Roland sat near the fire, his mind finally getting some rest. He needed to warn Leonard, to let him know what was coming. But he couldn't leave Elizabeth, not in her current state.
"I'll use your pen and a parchment, Tom," he warned.
"Feel free," Thomas replied.
He then began to write perhaps the most important letter of his life; the heaviest words of his history fell on the paper like glass blades being thrown to the ground, with each paragraph a sigh.
As Thomas watched that scene, he began to doubt that it was Roland; his eyes might be tricking him. In 20 years by his side, he had never seen Roland so submerged in feelings. The cold and unmovable rock, considered the devil's hand, now seemed like a father worried about his son.
After a couple of minutes, he folded the letter and handed it to Thomas. "I need you to take this to Gothia if something happens to me. Deliver it to the Guild House. In the hands of Leonard or Silica. Nobody else."
Thomas frowned, his forehead wrinkling. "Leonard or Silica... Have you become a father?"
Roland gave a laugh, an unknown laugh to Thomas, and thought, "Ah, if it could be true..." but only replied. "It's not like that..."
"Sir, then it's a royal business, I presume." Thomas stated.
Roland nodded, his expression somber. "He's in danger. I need you to do this for me."
Thomas hesitated, then nodded. "All right. I'll leave at the next dawn if something happens."
Roland squeezed his friend's shoulder, his voice low. "Thank you, Thomas. Now I owe you one."
Thomas smiled and saluted, and his eyes sparkled. "You owe me more than one, old friend." He joked.
The next morning, Roland left Elizabeth in Thomas's care and set off for the capital. He needed answers, and he needed them fast. The King's knowledge of the prophecy was a threat to Leonard, and Roland couldn't let that happen.
He moved through the city's back alleys, his hood down to cover his face. The capital was a maze of shadows and secrets, but Roland knew it well, that snake's nest that had become the beautiful Lumeria. He had spent years navigating its streets and used that knowledge to his advantage.
He made his way to the Drunk Witch, a small tavern on the city's outskirts that informants and spies frequent. It was the rival point of the Sleepy Owl Inn. The bartender, a gray-haired man with a scar on his face, nodded in recognition as Roland approached.
"Roland," the bartender said, his voice low. "You're far from home."
"I need information, Jeff," Roland said, his voice tense. "About the King. About Leonard."
"The last person who gave information about the king was taken unconscious by the guards," Jeff said.
"I've already saved Elizabeth... Come on, Jeff, tell me, before you become a target too." Roland says, placing a platinum coin on the table.
The bartender hesitated and then, taking the coin surreptitiously, nodded. "I bought this info from Garrick; the king doesn't know about Leonard's past. Only the prophecy. He thinks the boy is a threat, but he doesn't know who he really is. If you wanna know more, search him."
"Garrick is dead; I did it." Roland's jaw tightened. "Who told Edward about the prophecy?"
Jeff shook his head. "I don't know. But whoever it was is close to the king. Be careful, Roland. The capital is not safe for you anymore."
Roland left the tavern, his mind racing. He needed to get out of the city to regroup and plan his next move. But as he approached the city gates, he felt a familiar shiver run down his spine.
He turned around, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his sword. Three figures were in the shadows, their eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. Neumonds.
One of them stepped forward, his voice cold and authoritative. "Roland. You've been a difficult man to catch. Seems like a wet tadpole, so slippery."
Roland's heart sank as he recognized the man. It was the current supreme commander of the King's army, a Neumond with powers that rivaled his own, some would say even surpassed them.
"Gerard..." Roland's voice seemed to invoke spirits, laden with deep sorrow.
"Today... you are mine, 'old Roland,'" Gerard stated, drawing his sword.