Monthly Archives: January 2015

The Brothers and the Statues

Gellian dodged back as the giant stone mace of the statue collided with the ground where he had stood. Even with the shared strength of the Sun his brother had imparted to him he could do little but dance round, his kukri of little use against the stone guardians. “Ten of these?”

“Ten either side brother. Who thought the merchant would fail at sums where the warrior succeed!” Remian charged two steps forward, his two handed falchion’s long curved blade impacting heavily with the statues arms, the enchanted metal rending the stones apart. A swift kick knocked what remained of the statue to the ground, once cracked its magic leeching from it out into the air. “Nine and ten now though, brother!”

Lumian sat cross legged in the center of the fray, somehow ignored by the statues, somehow sheletered from the fray, chanting a prayer in the ancient Padagan tongue, a series of glowing runes floating before him. One statue began towards him, but reaching a barrier set in place it turned its attention towards Remian instead.

Remian parried the statue’s mace, then barked forth a single word, “شلیک” A burst of flame leapt from his palm, burning the face of the guardian to ash in an instant. “Ten and eight. Brothers? Perhaps some help?”

“I am helping. You think protection comes quickly? I am setting the final wards.”

Gellian broke in, “I think, Lumian, what our youngest brother means is that perhaps something more, ah, offensive is in order?”

Lumian stood slowly, drawing out the flail, its heavy chain and ball glowing with a faint blue shimmer. Eyes still closed he strode out of the circle of glowing runes, flashing left and right with the flail in a series of quick motions, his steps and his strikes guided by a force outside himself. Three statues fell in his wake. “Five and ten. Gellian– I think you are falling behind my brother and I!”

Gellian dodged one statues strike, then ducked a second, a quick strike of his Kukri doing little but clanging off the hardened stone of the statue. He danced round, nimbly in a way that belied the apparent age he wore on his brow; leading one statue behind on either side. As he moved  the two statues maneuvered out to flank him, then both raised massive maces on either side as Gellian stopped for a moment.

“Crash!” the impact as the statues’maces collided with one another, Gellian running for a half second up the wall which had looked to corner him a second before and two swift kicks tumbling the statues which had destroyed one another, “Three and ten!”

Gellian found himself now back to back with his brothers, thirteen statues looming over them. “You could end this, Remian.”

“I could, but I can wear the Lion’s mask for only the briefest moment, and not again for many days if I do.”

“We can carry on like this, then, wearing ourselves down in bodies and magic. Thirteen to one is not so bad as twenty to one.” Lumian prodded his brother verbally as only an elder brother could.

“As you wish.” Remian stepped forward, snarling his lips, then let forth a roar.

As he did, the room about them quaked. Lumian and Gellian closed their eyes and sunk both to the floor, prostrating themselves before their brother as he took on the visage of the Great Lion of Padaga.

Remian shone bright, bright even as the sun when it hung in the midday sky, his body superimposed by the image of a lion near as large as the room itself, and he seemed to lunge forth, great fire-y claws striking down the statues in motions swift beyond eyesight.

Then it was done. Thirteen melted and crumbled statues before his feet, Remian collapsed to the ground exhausted as the spirit of the Lion left him.

Lumian knelt beside his brother, wetting a cloth and touching it to his freshly sun burned skin. “I only wish this was the last trial to enter the tomb-”

“And not the first.” Gellian finished his brothers thought.