The wind slammed into me—a cold, raw breath of the north carrying the metallic tang of blood and the acrid sting of ozone. Power thrummed through this avatar, a dark current in my veins, a tether to the will of my true self. The salvaged shield of a fallen Elven Knight weighed heavy against my chest, its scarred metal both protection and reminder of sacrifice.
Above, the sky dissolved into chaos—black-feathered death streaking downward as poisoned arrows whistled through the air. I raised the shield, steel shrieking as the missiles struck, sparks dancing in the twilight. For a heartbeat, the elves behind me had cover, a pocket of survival amid the storm.
"Hold your ground, defenders!" I roared, my voice a thunderclap across the battlements. "The fate of the Elven Post rests upon your shoulders! We must not yield to these beasts!"
The Orcs surged forward, a tide of muscle and rage. Crude ladders scraped against the stone, rattling as dozens of them climbed with reckless persistence. Their war-cries shook the air, guttural and savage. The wall trembled under the weight of their fury.
I braced, blade in hand. The first Orc vaulted over the crenellation, jagged axe raised high. My sword answered with a silver arc that split him from shoulder to hip. His corpse crumpled across the stones, and before the blood dried, three more replaced him.
The clash was relentless. Steel met steel, the air thick with sweat, blood, and the stench of Orc hide. My shield shuddered beneath a hammer blow that nearly shattered bone, but I pivoted, driving my blade through the attacker's throat. Another lunged, and I smashed his teeth out with the shield rim before cutting him down.
Around me, young elves fought desperately, their training barely enough to hold back the tide. An Orc's axe swept toward one of them—barely more than a boy. I intercepted, my sword flashing, severing the brute's arm in a spray of blood. The boy's wide eyes met mine for a heartbeat, terror melting into determination. He tightened his grip on his spear and stood his ground again.
Yet the storm did not abate. More ladders rose. More Orcs climbed. Their fury seemed endless.
Then the battlefield shifted.
Explosions blossomed in the fields beyond the wall—bursts of fire that turned dusk to dawn. The ground convulsed, tremors cracking stone beneath my boots. The Orc ranks faltered, confusion rippling through them as fire consumed their siege. Screams filled the air—raw, animal terror.
I looked to the horizon. There, against the scarlet blaze, a griffon wheeled through the heavens, wings beating thunder into the air. Upon its back rode a figure cloaked in flame and shadow. His black staff pulsed faintly, alive with power older than the bones of the world.
The griffon descended like a comet, raking talons scattering Orcs. Fire fell in sheets, devouring their lines, breaking their formations. The tide of battle turned in moments. Orcs who had sworn to die on our walls instead fled in chaos, vanishing into the northern woodlands.
The elves erupted in cheers. Against all odds, the siege was broken.
I descended from the wall, heart still hammering, and strode with Captain Ellis to meet the rider.
The griffon halted in a thunder of wings and clawed earth. Its rider dismounted slowly. White hair cascaded like a river of silver, a beard as wild as storm clouds, and eyes that burned with an ancient fire. Though his back was bent with age, every step carried the weight of mountains.
Captain Ellis bowed deeply, voice hoarse with exhaustion and awe. "Grand Wizard Caled… your arrival saved us. We owe you everything."
"Greetings, Captain," Caled rumbled, his voice deep as earth. "The weave itself trembled. It whispered of this siege, of imbalance spreading across the realm. I could not remain idle." His gaze swept the battlefield, lingering on the corpses. "This was no mere raid. The other fortresses are under attack. This is but a single thread in a much darker tapestry."
Ellis straightened, grim resolve in his features. "Then we must brace for worse." He gestured toward me. "This elf—Merlin of House Sylvestrus—stood at the gate and upon the wall. Without him, we would have fallen."
Caled's burning gaze shifted to me. Amusement flickered there, sharp and knowing. "What name do they call you by, master elf?"
I straightened, forcing steadiness into my voice. "Merlin of House Sylvestrus, Grand Wizard."
Silence stretched. Then Caled chuckled, a low rumble that coiled around my spine. "Tell me, Merlin… do you still carry Excalibur?" His words carried a teasing weight, yet the challenge beneath them was unmistakable.
Heat flushed my face. I forced a laugh, careful, practiced. "Sorry," I said lightly, "the Lady of the Lake claimed it back." A deflection, sharpened with irony.
Caled's smile curved slowly, deliberate. "Ah. You know the tales well. Perhaps too well."
I tilted my head, smirking. "Professor Dumbledore mentored me on the subject." My voice dropped, just loud enough for him to catch: "Take that, muggle."
The jest masked the unease twisting in my chest, but for a fleeting heartbeat, I savored the triumph.
Before Caled could press further, a cry split the air.
"Captain Ellis!" An Elven Knight stumbled forward, pale with dread. "The trainee wagons—they've been ambushed! The younglings are taken!"
Ellis reeled. "What? They were far beyond the battle line—how?"
"Orcs broke through the blockade unnoticed, Captain," the knight stammered.
A single name tore from me. "Maia. Where is Maia?"
The knight faltered, eyes downcast. "Forgive me, Master Merlin. She is among the captured."
My chest clenched like a vice. "Then we ride now—we can still retrieve them!"
Ellis shook his head, anguish raw in her eyes. "No. The northern forest crawls with thousands of Orcs. To follow would be suicide. I cannot order my soldiers to certain death."
"The child has lost too much already!" My voice broke with desperation. "We cannot abandon them."
Her lips trembled. "No one who enters the northern forest returns, Merlin."
Resolve burned through me, cold and bright. "Then I will go alone."
I turned, each step a vow heavier than steel.
"You'll be killed!" Ellis cried after me, torn between command and compassion.
Caled's voice rumbled, quiet but resolute. "Let him go, Captain. One elf may pass where armies cannot. Let us see if destiny favors him."
He mounted his griffon in one fluid motion. With a beat of wings, he was gone—leaving only the whisper of fire in the wind and the weight of his gaze heavy upon me.