if no_life = true
{
chapters/day = 2;
}


Chapter Four

If the Mind Believes Something Is Real


The murky waters retreated to the depths of the swamp as the surroundings changed to a colorful spring forest. This put them only about two miles from the village, one mile of which was forest. At any rate, it was night. And forests are always more dangerous at night. Especially when traveling with a knight who has a problem underestimating his height.
There was a soft "thud" noise, followed by the rustle of falling leaves and metallic creaking of straightening a helmet.
"I'm okay!" Gillion's dazed voice called out from the darkness.
Alkin sighed. With a flick of his wrist he summoned a small sphere of light. "Catch," he called, tossing it to Gillion. After several failed attempts, Gillion managed to gain control of the annoyingly slippery ball of light. Forrever, still traveling with them, couldn't help but laugh at the poor knight's trouble.
The call of a wolf echoed through the forest. Though they continued walking, the echo repeated for almost a minute, slowly dieing away. A low growling came from behind the bushes, as small shadowy figures poured out onto the path. Too many to easily count, each one's dark figure moving as swiftly and silently as a shark through water.
"A pack of wolves..." Gillion observed, pausing the group.
Alkin's eyes scanned the path. "More than a pack," he corrected, "maybe three score."
Gillion's hand reached for his sword as the wolves advanced. "Can't you just say 'sixty' like any normal person?" The wolves were forming a half-circle around Alkin and Gillion, ready to attack. The two of them dismounted their horses and Gillion lightly pushed Forrever back. "Let us handle this," he said, clearly imitating a noble voice again.
Ordinarily, Forrever would offer to help, but she wanted to see how Alkin and Gillion would handle this. Neither seemed too experienced in combat.
Gillion drew his sword and took a defensive stance, as Alkin put his hands around an imaginary sphere at his side, like a mage's spellcasting pose. They both stood still for quite some time, as the foaming mouths of the wolves moved closer. Gillion stared at Alkin for quite some time before finally saying "Well? Launch a fireball or something!"
Alkin looked back at him. "I'm a healer, not a sorcerer."
"I've seen you use magic to cook potatoes," recalled Gillion, "Just do that same thing."
"Wolves are slightly different from potatoes," Alkin said. None the less, he began conjuring a small red flame between his hands.
One of the wolves jumped. The four-legged creature's swift movement would have taken many by surprise, but evidently Gillion was not entirely absent-minded. He slashed his blade sideways, cutting a gash deep into the wolf's fur coat. The bloody carcass of the animal fell lifelessly to the ground. Another wolf leapt for Alkin. Twisting his arm downward, Alkin's small red flame spread into a wall of fire, and the burning animal fell to the ground, leaping around in agony. Alkin was still a priest, and therefore would only fight in defense.
The wolves kept coming, leaping at the pair from all angles. Gillion slashed wildly, cutting down as many as he could. Alkin's wall of fire had been morphed into a burning whip, which tangled it's deadly coils around the necks of the approaching creatures.
The two of them were being badly outnumbered. Both of them could see this. They were now fighting back to back, with wolves completely surrounding them. "Hand me the potion," Alkin requested. Gillion reached into his pocket with his free hand and retrieved a small vial. "Defend me," Alkin ordered, as he moved the flaming whip to one hand and began drinking the potion.
Forrever had seen that kind of potion before. A group of nomads who commonly traveled through the swamp knew that they couldn't find Forrever to help them every time, and a normal compass wouldn't work in the Swamps of the Lost. That was what made the swamps so difficult to cross; almost all the rock in the area was magnetic. When you think you're going north, you discover you're just walking towards a large rock. That was part of the reason she had built her shelter near a rock. Anyway, knowing a normal compass wouldn't work, one of the nomads trained in simple magic. It would take a powerful mage to create a magical compass, much more powerful than anyone who had only undergone simple magic training. However, the nomads always carried a pack of potions. When their magician drank one of these potions, his skill increased almost to that of an Archmage. That must have been what Alkin was doing!
Alkin finished drinking and threw the vial behind the wolves to distract them. While Gillion fought the ones too smart for that trick, Alkin put his hands apart and closed his eyes. Electric looking bolts of energy began creeping from near his chest and up his arms. The energy that had reached his hands began manifesting into spinning spheres of light. Gillion was swinging his sword like a madman at the attacking wolves, protecting Alkin. The spheres of light in Alkin's hands were glowing as brightly as the sun now. Forrever had to shield her eyes. In a rain of sparks, Alkin clapped his hands together, the energy flowing into a form in front of him. It slowly took shape, into a four armed creature, swords materializing in it's hands. And elaborate helm carved itself from the energy, and finally, the figure was complete. A Wolfslayer!
Wolfslayers, as they were called, were a type of ghost said to form from the spirit of someone mauled by a pack of wolves. They were believed to last until all the wolves in the area were dead. And with four long blades, the poltergeist was optimized for slaughtering the vicious animals. However, this was no usual Wolfslayer. It's entire body was transparent, glowing an unearthly silver color. It was an illusion, magically created. Hopefully, the old theory about illusions held true. "If the mind believes something is real,"
"Then it's blade is just as deadly," Forrever finished aloud. Alkin plunged his hands into the illusion and froze, his eyes now glowing the same shade as the illusionary Wolfslayer. The illusion, however, began to move under his control.
Several wolves launched themselves at the illusion. Quickly turning, it's two right blades diced the attackers in a single mighty slash. Evidently, that triggered an unusual silence, which overcame the entire forest. The wolves knew they couldn't defeat the illusion, and Alkin wouldn't attack them unless they attacked first. Slowly, the retreated back into the silent depths of the forest. As they blacked up, the shadows overcame them, making them invisible once more.
Gillion looked over at Alkin, frozen in place with glowing eyes. He prodded him in the shoulder, immediately dispelling the illusion and returning Alkin's consciousness. "Lucky I was here to save you all," Gillion bragged. Alkin had given up arguing with him. He did, after all, hand Alkin the potion. That was barely saving them all, though.
After that, it was unlikely anything in the woods would attack them. They just had a little over a mile to go before reaching the village. The village where Skkar would hopefully be.


Chapter 5 will hopefully be done tomorrow. A big one.
http://www.foxmage.com/Chapter5.gif

Edit: Horrific gramatical error edit! Wrong plural of wolf.
Edit2: Misspelled horrific. =P