59 Delimira's Fight

"Lasraichean god of fire, hear the burning desire in my voice, and grant me some small measure of your power. Fireball!" I grinned in satisfaction as a group of goblins was immolated by my magic. "Take that, you green scum!"

Going all out felt really good, if only I could've done this back in Issanore. I angrily cut down a goblin who had a grin that was faintly reminiscent of my father's. He always had a horrid domineering look on his face when he was rolling over someone who couldn't do anything to stop him. Especially with me and my sisters.

I remembered how bitter and hopeless I felt when I first started school nearly a year ago. My father had just told me to study hard so that he could marry me into a good house. He didn't care what I wanted, or what would suit me best, he just wanted to hook me up with some old elf so that he could get more influence and power.

"Graah!" The memory of that day made my magic run over and caused the flames on the blade to fan out. Naturally, I took advantage of the surge to take out another clump of goblins.

As I formed another fireball with my magic, the image of the joyless, miserable, and despirited husk that my older sister had turned into when my father had married her to a elf of an allied house who was over seven hundred years older than her. There was no love, or even respect, in that marriage. Just mutual espionage and power grabs. I'd sooner give my soul over to the gods that follow her example.

"Delimira." Kvalinn loudly interrupted my brooding. "Don't let your emotions influence your magic. The spells could backfire and kill you."

"Yes, Master." I responded, doing my best to cool down with a few ice spells that always seemed to lighten my spirit. Taking down a couple trolls with the Icicle Lance spell.

I could feel my mood brightening a little as I followed the instructions of my self appointed master. It seemed like yesterday that I first saw Kvalinn, Bekhi, and Gerde enter the Issanorian Institute of Magic. At first I thought that if I hung out with them, or even just acknowledged them, my elf supremacist father would cut me off and let me live my own life.

That didn't work.

Instead my father berated me for days, or to be precise, the servants that were hired by my father berated me from dawn till dusk. My father wouldn't think to take precious time from his job as Chancellor of The Council to deal with a daughter who wasn't providing him anything of value yet.

So I decided to take things further, and worked with the dwarf and his adopted daughter in a blacksmith's forge. Maybe this would be my key to freedom.

What happened in the forge was one of the last things I expected though, I found that I really loved making weapons. The fierce heat of the fire, shaping the metal, and the joy I felt when I held up a sword made with my own sweat and blood. It was amazing!

After that day, I referred to Kvalinn as Master Kvalinn, and declared that I was his apprentice. It took a while, and several heartfelt conversations with him, his girlfriend, and daughter, but eventually he agreed to take me as an apprentice in weapon smithing.

That drove my father up the wall. Elves were supposed to be above crude manual labor, and taking lessons from a dwarf was even worse for him. He still didn't have time for me, but he sent the children of allies and family who were upperclassmen to harass me into obedience.

Fortunately, I was able to beat them back in magic duels, which were held as sacred in the Institute. Kvalinn made weapons and dwarven runes for me to fight with, and Bekhi trained me in how to fight. Thanks to their help, it looked like I would be able to seize my freedom for myself by fighting.

"Well done, Delimira." Bekhi complimented as I cut down another swath of green goblins. "But don't forget to keep up your guard. Some of these orcs have stolen dwarven weapons."

I smiled in amusement, since Bekhi was fighting with dual weapons and was basically a maelstrom of goblin blood and guts. Defense was the last thing on her mind. But since she was my combat teacher I didn't say anything about that, and just gave a "Yes, Bekhi."

The magic of Hymladda flowed through my veins as the fight grew ever fiercer. As the hours ticked by in the darkness, the number of goblins started to thin, with their places being taken by orcs, trolls, ogres, and other fierce beasts that I never would've seen if I hadn't fled the island.

Eventually, the emperor told us to take a break before the even tougher monsters arrived. During the break, I chugged down magic rejuvenation potions that Jenise's father had packed when he smuggled everyone out of Issanore.

Glancing over at Jenise, I felt a little sad for her. Her father had at least cared for her enough that he brought two dwarves to the island to try to save her grades and reputation. And for that, he had likely been ordered to surrender his soul to the gods so that one of my father's toadies could take his land and position.

"Are you ok, Jenise?" I asked. "You've been downing a lot of potions. Too many is really bad for you."

She appeared to be holding back vomit as she chugged her fifteenth magic rejuvenation potion today. "I- blgh- I'm fine. I have to be. No one else in the Imperial Guard can cast supporting magic."

That was definitely true. Elves have the ability to see the amount and type of magic living beings have, and none of the Emperor's Imperial Guard had any connection to the gods of support or healing. Not that there were many left. Most of the Imperial guard had been dispatched to support other portions of the wall, or were dead and dying in the medic tents.

Kvalinn interrupted our conversation for final instructions. He was as concerned as I was by Jenise's overconsumption of potions, and told her to scale back on the magic usage. We then returned to the fight, refreshed from our five minute break.

After another few hours of unending monsters, the leaders of the various monster packs appeared. Riding on top of a large furry animal with a long nose and tusks that looked completely out of place in the dark tunnels of the mountain. Kvalinn muttered something into his burgeoning beard about making mammoth meatballs out of it, but I wasn't sure if something that big would be edible. Usually a larger animal needs a lot of muscles just to move, and their meat is all leathery and tough.

One by one, the monster leaders dismounted. I closely examined each of them, both their physical aspects and their magical colors.

It's tough to explain to someone without magic, but every person, animal, plant, and inanimate object has their own magical aura that reflects their power and personality. We elves can see that aura, and can use it to determine if a fight is winnable, or if negotiations would be the wiser move. If I were to describe the magical aura as a fire, mine would be similar to a fiercely burning torch that just wants out of the hand that's holding it up. Kvalinn's magical aura was like a forge fire, burning hot enough to melt steel so that it can make weapons, but will also destroy anything in its path. These monsters though, their magical aura made me shiver in fear.

The Goblin Lord alone had a magical aura that was like a wildfire whose flames consumed light instead of giving any. It reflected his utterly cruel nature, his capacity for total destruction, and the blessings of the corrupted god Choblynnod, whose madness cursed the world with goblins thousands of years ago.

Interrupting my examination, the Goblin Lord charged forward and barrelled the Emperor onto the ground behind the walls where they could have more room to fight. I didn't think anything so big and fat could move so quickly, but then again, monster physiology wasn't taught at the Institute.

"Com'n, Kvalinn! Let's go kill a Goblin Lord!" Bekhi was about to go help the emperor, but before she could do so, the other monster leaders made themselves known.

The one that stood out to me the most was the lamia, and not just because of her unusual body that was half human female and half snake. Her two long curved blades were red with the blood of man and dwarf, and her magic was like a forge fire compressed onto a twig, small but highly destructive. This was my opponent!

"Kvalinn, is snake meat edible?" I asked, both because I was hungry, and I wanted that monster's attention focused on me. The fact that it had just mentioned eating us may have also played a small part in my verbal jab. "Even if it's not, you're making me a snake burger later!"

I may have been joking about Kvalinn turning a monster into a meal, but I wasn't kidding about the burger. Back in Issanore, Kvalinn had made something he called 'a hamburger' that was absolutely delicious and way more satisfying than any food I'd ever had before. If we got out of this alive, he's definitely gonna be cooking me more burgers with all the toppings.

Dodging the swift tail of the lamia, and weaving between the two oversized blades, I tried my best to focus on the enhancement talismans that would boost my speed and agility. Unfortunately, my magic was running dry and I didn't have the room to chug a potion.

"Ssssssooo, what do we have here?" The lamia hissed out. "You don't smell like a dwarf, and you have too much magic for a human. Ssssso what are you?"

"I'm an elf. Not that it matters to a monster like you." I ducked to avoid one sword, before jumping back to avoid the other.

"An elf!? I've heard of your kind in legend, but none have ever made it to the deep parts of the mountains before. I wonder if you are as tasty as the legends say?"

"Doesn't matter!" I replied, thrusting at her with my sword. "I didn't escape all hell back home, just to be a meal to a god's forsaken monster."

"If you ssssay ssssso." The lamia said with a shrug. "At least you ssssmell better than the dwarves and monsters I usually eat."

We then engaged in a fierce game of cat and mouse. The lamia constantly tried to trip me up, or wrap me up with her tail, all the while swiping through the air with her curved blades.

I wonder if Kvalinn can make weapons like that, and if he can teach me? They seem like pretty cool weapons. It wasn't until much later that I learned that they were called scimitars, and while fancy looking, just didn't sit right in my hand. But that was probably because of all of Bekhi's training with a straight sword.

This stalemate couldn't last forever though. My magic was nearly running dry, practically down to the last burning embers, and that was all that was keeping me on my feet since my physical reserves of energy ran out hours ago.

"Ssssoon, little elf. Ssssoon you'll just be a tasty morsel for me. Maybe with your magic added to mine, I'll be powerful enough to lead my tribe to victory over the pitiful humans without these lesser races."

I had to win now. That last comment sounded like something that my father would say. And above all else, I hated letting my father win.

Not to mention I seriously didn't want to be eaten.

Holding out my left hand, I chanted a spell. "Lasraichean god of fire, hear the burning desire in my voice, and grant me some small measure of your power. Fireball!" Instead of firing off the spell though, I instead imbued it into my weapon. This was a seriously bad idea, if Kvalinn had noticed then he would have joked about voiding the warranty, whatever that means. The reason why it's such a bad idea is because my sword was only built to use so much magic, let's just say twenty units, I already had the full twenty units of magic in the sword to keep it blazing and the fireball spell was adding an additional clump of magic power into the blade, making it at risk of blowing up in my hands.

"What in the god's names are you doing?" The lamia exclaimed, backing up slightly. "I don't like my food to explode on me!"

"Well then good news for you." I answered with a combative grin. "I'm not your food, and you're the one who's gonna explode."

I then rushed forward in a suicidal charge. I'd rather die killing this monster, than be killed by her and then be her food.

Dodging her blades and tail, I jabbed my sword through her midsection and then jumped back. My beloved blade exploding half a second later, and throwing chunks of lamia meat everywhere, as well as producing an undoubtedly poisonous stench.

"Told you I wasn't gonna be a meal." I mumbled as I collapsed. That last spell had used the dregs of my magical reserves, and I didn't have the strength to reach for a potion. The very last thing I saw before I lost consciousness was Kvalinn, Bekhi, and Gerde rushing over to me.

At least Gerde is safe. I thought to myself. Hopefully my adoptive little sister can grow up and remember me being brave today.

The darkness then took me, and I didn't see anything else for a while.