Naya under the eaves of a yellow oak tree observes the shadow of Urden County. Though still has a bit of fatigue, she can now move at the bare minimum all thanks to her daughter who is able to save her on time. She prays in her heart for the safety of her daughter… and also the self-proclaimed King.
Since Naya's youth, she can glimpse unexplainable visions that bear implicit meanings carrying the images of the past, present, and future. She is a clairvoyant by birth, which is a very rare occurrence for an elf. Such supernatural abilities after all are unheard of in all of the elf kind.
Farah, a juvenile elf calls to her. "Aunt Naya, let's go… They are waiting for us." She softly speaks to her.
Just in front of the two of them are the small contingent of elves responsible for sneaking them safely outside the County. Naya can still remember how 'perfect' their escape is… They didn't meet a single human soldier on their path which is unbelievable.
The elf, Lameya, has an excellent knack for espionage.
Naya recalls the elf that calls himself Varen. That certain elf also did contribute greatly to giving them safe passage. Currently, Varen should be meeting up with the main Elf forces to rescue the King.
'Trudviar,' the name is unfamiliar to her, except that one time she 'hears' it in her vision. It is a first for Naya to 'hear' in her vision so it is a surprise to her. Her daughter in her silent screaming of Trudviar's name is quite something to behold.
Naya shudders at the recollection of blood and death in her vision.
Moving her out of her stupor is the strict cold words coming out of Lameya's mouth. "Mima, I will leave you in charge of the rescued elves. Two more of our sisters will accompany me returning inside the walls to prepare an escape route. Bring the elves to the Zaun territory and have the quarter elf give you the necessary carriages and supplies. I trust that you will accomplish this mission."
Mima wants to say something but suppresses her impulsiveness aware of the importance of her task. "I will do as you say… Please be safe."
"Same goes for you…" With one last look and a nod in Naya's direction, Lameya goes off with two sisters on her trails.
The night is cold, and it will take weeks to just arrive at the Zaun territory. Naya doesn't know how to actively utilize her supernatural clairvoyance, but with the crisis at hand and the desperation, she forces herself to 'see' with her sheer mental powers a 'present event' through her clairvoyant abilities.
And she didn't like it…
Bitter cries stream down her cheeks as Farah tries to comfort her with small words. Naya's dark red hair flows in the sudden breeze together with her bitter tears… She didn't say anything… She just cries like that for the next ten minutes powerlessly.
Then.
It suddenly starts raining. The water drops are heavy, and it immediately soaks the earth wet.
…
It is raining hard, and the surface areas of the roofs quickly turn slippery. They are proving to be some trouble for the elves but more-so for the humans.
Night and rain intermingle further bringing the world to the nearing conclusion. It is like the dark curtain falling on a theater performance, and as if to prove this metaphor, the moon and the stars are no longer in the sky as dark clouds carry their heavy rainfall and even casual thunder.
Trudviar wielding his heirloom sword cleaves on the soldiers barring his way. Taking great advantage of an elf's natural affinities to parkour, he jumps off from one roof to another. The human soldiers can barely keep up with him. Even his fellow elves are some distance away from him busy on the soldiers trying to get a hold of them.
Only Varen can follow Trudviar's steps with ease.
"General, there are too many of them… Though their mobility is superbly inferior to ours, they can make up with their numbers to try cordoning us off. This is not like taking hold of a single floor…" Varen says in a single breath almost shouting as he kicks the wooden ladders that the human soldiers use to climb the roofs. Varen feels his clothing getting heavy because of the rain soaking him wet. This is true for humans too, but it is still a bother nonetheless.
Trudviar splits a man in half horizontally, guts and blood spilling. "Then you better exert the extra effort. Where the hell is his majesty!?" Because of the heavy rain, he has to shout hard.
Though elves have incredible hearing, that changes under the influence of outside elements… like the rain. Not to mention the now slippery slope, and blurring of vision, there is also the burden of one's stamina. The elves don't have many issues and are coping well, but the rain is slowing them down.
"Fuck," Varen cusses as an arrow almost hit him. "Just some narrow alley!" He belatedly replies to Trudviar as he tucks his daggers to his waist, and draws the short bow on his shoulder. From the other rooftop, separating them is an empty wide road, is a formation of archers donning the Beyronald insignia, a maiden in a lake, on their leather armor.
Trudviar deflects an arrow that is ought to hit his shoulder. With swift steps, he comes to Varen's range offering him respite by deflecting the other arrows that are ought to take the blind elf's life. Varen draws his bow into a full moon and rapidly fires with masterful reloading of his arrows, but the soldiers on another side are undeterred, in complete confidence of their superior numbers.
"Give me a boost." Trudviar finding the archers on the other side annoying asks Varen for an assist. Varen nods at Trudviar's request.
Stepping back a little bit from Varen, the soldiers on the other side prepares to load another set of arrows. Trudviar runs to Varen with his fastest. Though blind, Varen can still cooperate on something so simple as this. Varen interlocks his fingers, knees down, and with his palm cupping Trudviar's foot, he then throws his hardest aiming to send off Trudviar flying into the air.
The exact moment Trudivar finds stable footing in Varen's palm, he then kicks his firmest. Trudviar flies into a parabola descending on the group of archers like an eagle. He swings his sword claiming the lives of the human soldiers that dare confront him.
Varen on the other side is shooting his arrows with vengeance, but his accuracy is shittier than usual.
"Varen, you blind fuck! Don't shoot at me!" Trudviar shouts from the other side barely deflecting the friendly fire.
Some soldiers dare sneak on Varen, but Varen easily outmaneuvers them by rolling, tumbling, and running. He then sends a courtesy of arrows to the sneak attackers.
Varen feels a commotion from his left through the tremors from his feet, soldiers with spears and bucklers are gathering in a formation, leading them is a brave voice.
"Get them! The honorable General Bardano has put a bounty! For every elf's head you get, you will earn a hundred gold pieces! If you manage to get the self-proclaimed elf king's head, you will get a nob—"
The commander shouting of his general's rewards can utter no more as Varen sticks an arrow to the poor bastard's skull. Varen's ears suddenly perk up hearing something familiar in the air. He strains his ears, praying in his heart for a miracle to occur.
And he hears… a voice…
The tone and personality of the voice is quite familiar indeed. "Trudviar! Two buildings away! I will follow you!" Varen points out with his index finger just behind Trudviar.
"I will be going." With no more time to waste, Trudviar turns around from Varen and heads off to his destination.
More soldiers flood the above part of the buildings. Urden County is quite prosperous as there are even some properties that are three stories high which speaks to the once economic might of this territory. Sadly, this territory has to end like this.
Trudviar sprints forward like a gale, the water droplets slide off his skin, and the drenching blood on him washes with the rain.
It is only two buildings away, he should be able to do this.
Trudviar angles his sword offensively not minding the equal ferociousness of the human soldiers barring his path. With a bruise on his arm, he kills one. With a graze to his neck, he kills another one. With a cut to his cheek, he kills two more.
Conscious of the weight of his every step, he carefully positions himself as he herds the human soldiers in one area causing them to fall down the rooftop because of their combined weight. More soldiers continue to flood the roofs, and like ants, they start overwhelming several buildings.
More soldiers wearing light armor, and carrying their own choosing of iron weapons, surround Trudviar like a pack of wolves eager to consume their prey.
Trudviar's eyes are starting to take a deeper shade of red just like blood. "You filthy humans dare test my patience… Have at it!" And just like a savage tiger, he retaliates with all of his might. He pounces on them and breaks off running to a direction in mind.
In his single-mindedness, he is able to leave the too-eager humans to dust. His fellow elves closely follow him, though just barely, they try their best to offer the support that they can give, no matter how little, they squeeze every effort they can muster to inflict murder.
And finally, Trudviar arrives at his destination. Gazing just below the alley where his majesty should be is Zeraya and another… A young human male pulls the steel sword, embedding it in Zeraya's already bloody abdomen.
The human leaves Zeraya who falls flat dead to the ground.
"I am Garus Urden, and… Thank you… I owe you that much for sparing me. Still… I am sorry…" Wheezing in pain as blood trickles from the shallow cut in his throat, he speaks in an apologetic tone with a hoarse voice.
The human, the only son of Galen, raises his sword high, and with one swift motion, he brings it down to the silver-haired elf. "I am sorry…" This is the cruelty of revenge.