<u>Chapter Fifty-Nine</u>


    Elayne Mccoy did not know what to make of Ambrose Severen. He was powerful, she saw that much. He killed that troll with a word. She still remembered how it felt, the world itself thrumming in response to it. The troll just ripped apart from some unseen force.


    He had looked exhausted after he had spoken that word, so there was a cost at least. She was used to skills and the power that came from them. Skills had been a part of her world since she was born, after all. She even knew of Icons, and spirit, but that word he had spoken, the power that came from it? No, she hadn’t heard of that.


    As she walked with the group, with Noelle looking like a curious kitten seeing the world for the first time, and Ambrose scanning the area for threats, she felt like she might actually have a chance at succeeding this time.


    After failing so much, it was nice to have a bit of hope.


    As she so often did, Elayne turned her thoughts to her brother. They had been inseparable as children, and that bond only grew as they got older. They only had each other since their Dad died in a dungeon. Adventurers were what so many people aspired to be on Midgard, because it offered a chance at power.


    She longed to escape the confines of the small town. Not just for herself, but for her brother. She still remembered that day, him bleeding out on the ground, her hand clasped in his.


    “Promise…promise me you’ll succeed.”


    “I promise, Z. I promise I’ll become the greatest adventure Midgard has ever seen.”


    She carried her brother''s dream in her heart.


    When Ambrose had shown her that he understood, that he knew the pain she held, she saw within him a kindred spirit.


    These thoughts swam through her head as they walked, and so she did not feel it, nor did she see it when the leaves rustled beside her. Suddenly, pain blossomed on her skull as her hair was yanked back, her body pressed against someone, and she was so surprised she dropped her staff.


    She felt a cool, sharp blade press to her throat, and a male voice she knew well spoke into the forest air.


    “Now, now, don’t act so hasty, hmm human?”


    Ambrose and Noelle had whirled around to face her. Ambrose’s expression was one of utter calm, like a meadow on a cool day. She imagined that she could see the calculations running through his mind already. Noelle growled, her cats ears flattening, lightning sparked between her hands.


    “Stroud,” Elayne choked out, her throat undulating against the edge of the blade. A trickle of blood appeared, running down her throat. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    “Shh. I wouldn’t speak just now, lowborn. You might get more than just a small nick.”


    Stroud turned his attention to the Infernal Crusader before him.


    “I don’t know you two, and I certainly have nothing against you. Here’s my proposal, you stay right there, don’t get in my way while I take this filthy lowborn here with me, and all will be well. Try to use a skill against me, follow me, or attack me in any way, and I’ll slit her throat first thing. Maybe you think you’re fast, hmm? Maybe you think your skills are enough to get me first, but I assure you, that is not so. Barely any pressure at all, and I’ll open her throat up lickity split.”


    Ambrose said nothing, merely stood and watched. Noelle flicked her gaze to his, some sort of silent communication passing between them, and she did nothing.


    Stroud nodded,


    “Good boy. I knew you’d see it my way.”


    Slowly, Stroud began to back up, dragging her with him. She felt the subtle power of a skill being activated, and shadows engulfed them.


    Ambrose did not follow.


    She worried about that for a minute. Did he simply not care? He could kill Stroud with a word! Why wasn’t he saving her? But she calmed her mind with a mental breath, as she felt a literal one would be hazardous to her health at the moment.


    Ambrose had said he would help her, and he didn’t strike her as a liar when it came to such a thing. Stroud had him over a barrel, perhaps he was merely afraid of him killing her before he had a chance to do anything. Still, it stung her anyway, because he hadn’t even spoken! Just stared, letting Stroud cart her off as if she was just some object.


    No, again, that was unfair. He was thinking, she could see that much. What would speaking have done for her? No, instead of focusing on casting blame, she tried to get her surroundings.


    Hard to do since her surroundings was utter darkness.


    Before long, however, the darkness faded. They were in a different part of the forest now, but before her was a simple camp. Over thirty people were engaged in various activities across the camp. Setting up tents, cooking, storing supplies, it was all being done.


    She couldn’t believe so many were working together.


    “Welcome to my little band of merry men, eh? I’d let you in on my plans, but I don’t think you will need to worry about that much before long.”


    Stroud took her to a pole, and tied her to it with rope.


    “It’s enchanted rope, designed to resist skill effects, so I wouldn’t entertain any ideas of escape.”


    “What are you going to do with me?”


    Stroud shrugged,


    “Nothing good, I’ll tell you that.”


    He grinned at her.


    Elayne swallowed.


    __________


    Hours had gone by with nothing much happening. Elayne was uncomfortable, but not overly so. Being D-Grade meant that nature didn’t call nearly so often, and the rope wasn’t hurting her. It was just awkward. Though the sense of fear she felt alleviated the boredom.


    She spent the time observing, and what Stroud was doing made no sense.


    He was drawing strange symbols in the dirt, setting up candles, placing crystals and other weird things within the symbols. More than once he would look at her and grin a crazy grin.


    Whatever he was doing, she knew it was nothing good.


    She never dabbled in the occult, but she suspected he was going to attempt a summoning. That was usually what strange symbols, weird items, and a kidnapped elven woman in the woods meant.


    Please come soon, Ambrose. She pleaded to herself. Things were not looking good for her. Stroud was now drawing out a huge circle over the symbols, leaving a wide gap in the middle. An ornate knife was placed in the center.


    That could only mean a few things. A tingle crawled up her spine, like a creeping spider over her skin. She swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump that had formed in her throat. Her eyes were glued to the knife as moonlight bathed its silver edge, causing shadows to dance around it.


    Candles flickered as a slight breeze played over the area like a mischievous kid.


    Suddenly he was certain she knew what her role was going to be in Stroud''s plan.


    She was going to be the sacrifice.