Lionhearted

Biara stood in the center of the fort, the snows of Frostfire Ridge coming down hard around them as she checked the straps that held her padded bracers in place for security. Around her had gathered a number of her lesser lieutenants and sergeants, the group a mixture of orcs, fearsome troll headhunters, tauren, and a small scattering of Forsaken and Sin'dorei amongst them.

“Lady Dayfire, they'll be on the ridge soon. What are your orders?” one of the orc lieutenants asked.

“We'll meet them just beyond the wall and push them back. We can't allow them to besiege the fort or give them time to hew down trees to assemble siege weapons,” Biara responded, her voice grim. “How many have the scouts counted now?”

“Many,” came the grim response. “We are outnumbered by a factor of three to one we estimate. It will be a difficult battle.”

Biara murmured words of magic, the wards on her face glowing brightly. She finished her preparations, checking to ensure that her belt held several wands in the event of an emergency. She nodded at those who had gathered before her, her expression stern, “Every battle is difficult, with no exception. Regardless of the odds, we will stand strong here. The Iron Horde will not take this fortification as long as there are those here willing to defend it. Attend to your troops and prepare yourselves. We will sortie forth in ten minutes and meet our enemy before they've a chance to establish themselves at our perimeter.”

The soldiers before Biara bowed deeply, pressing hands to their hearts in salute. The one closest rose up, and responded before turning to depart, “It will be as you say, Lady Dayfire. We will win the day.”

Biara watched him as he walked towards the waiting troops, the lesser officers shouting commands and rallying the soldiers of her fortification, preparing for the deadly encounter to come. He did not hear her reply, murmured to the wind, “I dearly hope so for all our sakes, Captain.”

Biara turned and walked towards a waiting tauren who had prepared her hawkstrider for her. She mounted the creature and rode off towards her soldiers to lead them into the coming battle.

She never looked back, and never saw the group of apprentices waiting near the edge of the fort's barracks. Most of them looked on with casual disinterest, their Sin'dorei tastes finding little of interest in the frozen wasteland that they had been assigned to and their distaste for the Magistrix they had been placed under clear as they turned and headed back within the structure.

That is, all but one. Rayleth Firelight stood at the barracks opening long after the others had retreated inside to find warmth, his fel green gaze never leaving the figure on the hawkstrider that grew smaller as distance took her away from the fort. Concern written across his features, he turned and walked into the barracks, his mind troubled.

***************************************

Rayleth paced, his thoughts a swirling mass of anxiety. The other apprentices glared at him or otherwise ignored him, even as his pacing in the close quarters of the primitive barracks brought him almost in contact with them repeatedly. Finally, Senior Apprentice Namia rose, a scowl on her face as she confronted him, “Would you stop that? It's bad enough we're all stuck in here without your irritating pacing!”

Rayleth paused, feeling something strange well up within him. He pushed his glasses up on his nose, staring down the shorter Senior Apprentice, “Don't you care? Don't any of you care? Magistrix Dayfire is out there right now, about to engage in battle for our safety and the safety of the others here. Doesn't it mean anything to any of you?”

The Senior Apprentice smirked, “Yes, it means that if she doesn't make it, we'll be reassigned somewhere else. Besides, she's a battle-mage. Do you know anything?”

Something snapped in Rayleth, and he abruptly brushed past the Senior Apprentice, heading to the back of the barracks and opening a chest. He began to rummage through it, grabbing prepared wands and shoving them into his belt.

“What do you think you're doing?” the Senior Apprentice asked. “You're not going out there; you've got no combat spells whatsoever and are barely capable of casting what spells you do know. You will be slaughtered in a heartbeat.”

Rayleth shook his head, rising as he stuffed the last of the wands into his belt, “I don't need combat spells, I'll have these. And what magic I do have I will use as I can. I can't sit here and do nothing while she fights for us. If you've a problem with it, report me when she returns, but I'm going out there with or without your permission.”

With that he walked past her and out of the barracks, into the swirling storm beyond. Whatever response she shouted was lost in the howling of the wind as he made his way towards the wolf pens. The creatures stirred uneasily within the pens, the ones left behind and out of combat either too old or too untrained to be useful beside the Frostwolf orcs in battle.

As Rayleth approached, one of the wolves moved to the edge of the pen, growling lightly at him before sitting down and watching him. It was a young one, not quite old enough to be useful in battle and left behind when the orcs had set out. As he made eye contact with it, he could almost feel a kindred spirit within it, sensing that the wolf sought to run with its pack.

“As do I my friend, as do I,” Rayleth murmured as he opened the pen. The wolf dashed out, coming up beside him and getting down on its haunches, as if urging him to mount quickly. He obliged, and then the creature was off, dashing into the howling storm beyond.

***************************************

The Iron Horde advanced all around them, their numbers seemingly endless as Biara lead her men to meet them in battle. Orcish warcries rose up, only to be drown out by the sounds of screaming as the forces of Biara's fort met them in a headlong charge.

Biara had little time to think before the enemy was upon her, iron armored orcs all around her and her spells lashing out in blazing bursts of light and razor sharp bits of ice. Orcs fell before her, only to be replaced by more orcs as the ranks behind them pushed forwards relentlessly. No matter how many she cut down with magic, there were always more, their reckless abandon for their own lives something that she was quite familiar with from her own experience in battle.

Her magic flowed through her, singing within her like a song in her very blood. Memories flashed through her mind of a thousand other similar battles, and spells came to her lips and fingertips as if it were a natural extension of her will. Spells detonated amongst the enemy, tearing them to shreds, throwing them into the air, or slicing into their flesh with ease. Deep inside, Biara felt a profound sense of release as she slew her foes, the magic in her core given outlet at long last. She knew in that moment what it would feel like to be a goddess; to decide at a whim who lived and who died, her power absolute.

No matter what I become, what I seek to do with my life, my destiny is here in the fires of battle. I was born for this, born to fight for my people.

The Iron Horde had few spellcasters amongst their ranks, preferring instead to rely on their strange technology. None could stand before her magic, the destructive power equal to any explosive they sought to hurl at her. And yet even as she cut them down, she realized that there was more to the weapons they had brought to bear than first glance might reveal. The orcs before her fell back slowly, but not in a rout as she'd first thought. As she and her men pushed forward, their lines buckled, drawing them forward.

As they neared a rise just beyond the snow and gore covered dell behind them, Biara realized the enemy's plan as three Iron Star siege weapons were wheeled into position on the hill. The weapons were a mix of technology and good old-fashioned explosives, and if they detonated amongst her men it would become a bloodbath.

In a panic, Biara shouted words of power, hurling herself forward through space as her blink spell teleported her, getting closer to one of the Iron Stars and hurling razor sharp bits of ice at it. Her spells struck the device, detonating it instantly in a fireball that rocked the very ground with the force of its blast.

There were two more of the weapons however, and Biara watched in horror as their crews began to activate them, the circular balls in the center of the siege weapons glowing red hot and beginning to spin as they were aimed. One of the weapons was facing directly at her charging army, and would slaughter so many of them that the battle would be lost.

The other was pointed right at her; the Iron Horde had recognized the threat she posed.

She was out of time, and had only a moment to cast a single spell. Save all of her men and be obliterated by an explosion that would cut through her wards as if they were not even there, or save herself and watch as her men and the fortification beyond was destroyed by the Iron Horde.

It was no choice at all. Biara closed her eyes and hurled her spell, the Iron Star pointed at her men detonating with another fearsome explosion, the hiss of the second Iron Star being launched echoing through the air as the weapon hurtled towards her. She had met her fate at long last in battle.

Kyliska will be proud of me, even if she's sad that I'm gone.

********************************

Rayleth and the wolf rode through the storm like an errant gust of wind, the nimble creature hopping over corpses and dropped weapons as they dashed across the dell where the main fighting was occurring. He could see orcs doing battle with one another, could see the Horde banners flying defiantly still against the Iron Horde invaders that sought to stomp them out, and in the distance he could see flashes of magic that were surely where Magistrix Dayfire was. A huge fireball rocked the battlefield, flames leaping into the sky and drawing his gaze.

Rayleth's eyes widened as he saw the first Iron Star explode, his gaze darting across the battlefield and coming to rest on Biara as she cast her second spell. He yanked on the wolf's fur beneath him, the creature darting towards her even as the Magistrix pointed towards a second siege weapon, her spells lashing out.

Rayleth saw her make her choice, understanding that Biara had no time to cast another spell as the last of the siege weapons launched its deadly payload. The wolf hurtled towards Biara, and he jumped from its back, flying through the air and slamming into the Magistrix at the last possible moment, his voice shouting out the words to one of the few spells he had mastered in his apprenticeship.

**********************************

Instead of flaming death, Biara felt a heavy body collide with her abruptly, the words of a poorly cast teleportation spell echoing in the air around her as magic blurred her view for a brief instant. Behind her, a massive explosion rocked the ground, the Iron Star detonating where she'd been standing, even as the arcane forces whisked her forward a few hundred feet into the midst of the Iron Horde forces.

Her eyes opened, and she looked up to see Rayleth laying atop her. His face was ashen white, fear making his limbs shake with his terror. With his body atop hers, she could feel his heart slamming against his ribs, his pulse racing as he ran on pure adrenaline.

He's as scared as he could possibly be, but he came to rescue me anyway.

The positive thought was dampened a moment later by the realization that the rescue had only delayed the inevitable; Iron Horde orcs advanced all around them, and they were cut off behind enemy lines. She could see the realization in his eyes as he locked gazes with her, and something else stirring there as well. She could see determination on his face, a burning will to live, to fight even though he wanted to curl up and surrender.

He rose up off of her, standing above her. She knew that the apprentices had no combat spells, knew he could do little against battle hardened orcs, but he was determined to fight anyway. He flicked his wrists, a wand appearing in each hand in a manner that would have made a goblin gunslinger proud, magic flaring to life on the tips of the weapons as he laid into the advancing orcs with deadly combat spells.

One of the wands overheated from continuously use, the tip detonating and sending splinters into Rayleth's arm, but he simply threw the ruined weapon aide and drew another wand, never stopping in his deadly barrage of magic.

The enemy advanced on all sides, the brave apprentice's fate sealed until Biara rose behind him, her magic lashing out at those who stalked Rayleth's back. Her spells shattered their bodies, hurling them away as she set her back to his, the two creating a deadly sphere of spells around them, cutting down foe after foe. In the distance Biara could hear the warhorns of the Horde forces pouring from her fort, and hope rose in her heart as she redoubled her efforts.

“Lady Dayfire! A shaman!” Rayleth shouted. Biara risked a quick glance over her shoulder, seeing the spellcaster preparing a dead ball of magma to hurl at them. Rayleth looked back at her, the glance they shared conveying everything they needed to say.

He turned, grabbing her arm and twirling her around him, her magic already sparking on her fingertips as she shouted out the final word of the spell. She felt his hand at her waist, grabbing one of her wands and drawing it as he laid down a withering hail of magic at her back, protecting her as she neutralized the threat.

The shaman was struck with shards of ice that flayed him to the bone, and he fell, the orcs around him beginning to rout as Horde forces came up behind the fighting duo, reinforcing their position. In a heartbeat the battle went from a pitched fight to full scale flight as the remaining Iron Horde orcs fell back, Biara's fighters in close pursuit and a few final spells detonating amongst their ranks.

And then it was over, the battle coming to an end for Biara and Rayleth as the Horde forces pushed past them, Biara's spells finally falling silent as the threat faded. Beside her Rayleth sunk to the ground, shivering in fear and exhaustion, blood welling from cuts on his arm from the destroyed wand.

Biara sank down beside him, exhaustion flowing through her as she watched her men run down the last of the attackers that they could reach. Cheers rose up around them, the victorious warcries a thunderous sound that rose into the very sky. But all of it was lost on Biara, as she felt Rayleth's head sag down against her shoulder, her apprentice finally succumbing to the exhaustion of using magic far beyond his capabilities for far longer than he should.

For a moment, Biara closed her eyes, letting the wave of victorious shouting flow over her, feeling Rayleth's heart beat against her arm, her mind awash with the utter astonishment of how far he'd gone to protect her. In that moment, sitting in the gore covered snow with the corpses of enemies all around her and the howling of a winter storm upon her, Biara felt contentment the likes of which she could not have imagined, and a smile played across her lips.