Battles Beyond (Book 1: The Fleeing Saga)

Dagger's Con Mago (7)

Flames bathed Teinova. To abate it, Zazavin's saliva fell directly on her.

Gazing into her orange eyes, concern overcame him. "Teinova, you're go—ACHOOOOOO!" He felt congested. From then on, he spoke in a nasal tone. "You're good?"

"Somewhat."

The flames died down under the robust saliva coating. Much of her hair, skin, and uniform was gnawed away leaving unsightly patches and spots. Teinova's headscarf also vanished alongside her magnificent glow. She became decrepit and scarred.

"Damn it, Durin. Look what you did to her!" Anger seeped into him, but his eyes told more.

"No, no, no. Durin did nothing wrong." She smiled and touched him.

Now I'm getting concerned. Durin knew he was truly in the wrong.

"And Zazavin should sneeze softer. He's too loud." Teinova was mentally out of whack.

Zazavin didn't bother to respond. It wasn't her fault for being like this, it was DURIN. He noticed that the soldiers on the petal above were gearing up for bombardment.

Durin scooped her into his fingers and placed her on his back. "These gusts are really intense. I feel that I can get blown away any minute."

"Yeah. It's on a different level close up."

"Teinova. Stay awake, okay?"

"No problem. You're a good leader."

She's really, really screwed up. He pulled out his energy hook and squeezed it. Enemy projectiles couldn't prevent it from latching onto the edge of the rose petal.

Unfortunately, the Defence Force's fire was too intense. He released his grip to perform evasive manoeuvres.

"My skin's starting to scratch." Zazavin couldn't stop to relieve himself. It wasn't the time to do so. "As the problem with my nostrils isn't enough."

"Just breath through them, even though it's bad for your health."

It was effective to a point. The improvement was minor.

"What about my itching?" The rash below his uniform felt increasingly unbearable.

"I can't always come up with solutions, Zazavin!"

"Okay. You didn't have to be like that."

A Minor Artillery Inspector stationed on Leaflet commanded the start of the next stage of heavy fire: The Rebounders.

Their barrels were slim and filled with thick metal shells to wear down the invading force.

As the Rebounders clawed ever closer to Veil, a yellow hue rose in intensity, replacing the bland soil. Its exponential growth worried the soldiers, Wixin, and even Cascachu had no comprehension of what he unleashed.

Salt made its way to his eyes. No longer there was a blinding light. He allowed nature to take hold.

I shouldn't try to fight. I should let it take me.

He forced his eyelids tight and remained calm. His body jostled hard against the coast of the saltwater lake he created.

Durin saw him and shouted, "You want us, Cascachu?"

"Where you be?"

"Just take your left and you'll reach us."

The frequency and fierceness of the armaments spiked. This did not go unnoticed by Zazavin. "The armaments are getting crazy. We have to move now!"