Sybil (Completed)

Worlds Collide

Screams fill the air, those of pain, bodies littering the field as blood seeps into the green field and begins to turn the once green and luscious field into a field of limp bodies and blood. My lungs ache for air, pleading with me to take a break for one second, to relax and catch my breath. I gasp for air as I watch the men around me, those who were once breathing a second ago, now dying brutal deaths. Lily Maxwell still holds most of her pack back in the forest line, watching as from a distance as I can spot the petite human in the crowd of rough werewolves. 

"Sybil," Zion calls out to me, his words repeating over and over in my head as I notice how I stand still in the field. "Shift, Sybil, damn-it, shift!" 

I try, trying to find my wolf, but she is afraid. It's been such a short time since my wolf came back to me and to now ask her to shift during a deadly battle only scares her deeper into my soul. "I can't," I whisper, watching as Zion charges forward with a set of knives out, digging them into the neck of a black wolf who leaps out at him. "I can't!" I shout at Zion, watching as he turns back to me with fear in his eyes. 

Zion grabs my arm, tugging me away from a group of wolves attacking our army. The smell of smoke grows stronger, the screams from the forest dying off as we know we have lost some of our army in that fire that drove us out. "The witches started the fire," Penelope informs, running up beside me as she watching the field before her. We stand at a small include of the field, the main bloodshed occurring a good twenty yards from us. "We could not smell their scent...it had to have been the witches." 

Just as Penelope finishes her conclusion to the fire, a bright light flashes around the palace, displaying a shimmering purple and blue globe around the palace, protecting it from any long-distance attacks. "Those damn witches are now going to try and tear down an ancient magical spell which protects it. Is that possible, Zion? Do they have the magic possible to tear down an ancient magical shield of protection?" Penelope asks, drawing Zion back to us as a few of Penelope's top warriors form a small barrier around us, looking in awe as they spot their past king fighting among them. 

"Fiona's coven is one of ancient magic. They know how to work with the proper spells." 

We all watch in silence as a dark and murky green color appears upon the magical shield in a concentrated spot, a group of witches behind Lily's men beginning to tear down the barrier as another group of witches put up a shield of protection over Lily's witches. "The palace walls have weapons to attack, but it will take a bit of persistence to break down the spell the witches have cast to protect their coven." 

"So how do we draw them out?" I ask, knowing there has to be some way to get them to stop. 

"We need our warriors to break through every wave of warriors Lily Maxwell sends us until she begins to send witches to us. Witch covens have a strong bond, they will protect their sisters," Penelope replies, turning to her men as she instructs them to push forward with more men who sit on the sidelines. Yet we are already in jeopardy, we are losing so many men out here already and too fast. 

"No," Zion interrupts Penelope's orders. "Have your men form a line two rows thick in a semi-circle formation to try and trap Maxwell's warriors in and bring them together so we can give them less chance of charging us." Penelope nods, repeating Zion's orders as we watch word make its way to the warriors fighting on the field. "We are not doing anything here by sitting back. How many warriors are here just watching the battle unfold? We are not doing anything by just sitting around." 

"You wish to join them?" Penelope looks puzzled. "Alphas usually stand back and give orders." 

"Right now you need every man out there. Orders can travel faster if you are down there," Zion answers, looking to me, asking for approval, wondering if I would feel comfortable joining the battle below. He does not need to ask through. He knows I would not say no, for this way my idea. Nodding, we all begin our charge down to the lineup of men we have on the battlefield, running around the limp bodies as my boots sink into the blood as if mud.