Page 82 of Awakening

Hundreds of spiders surrounded them, now in the trees and, almost all at once, they leapt from above and descended upon them.

Trystan aimed the bow upward and squinted his eyes closed. With every bit of strength he had, he pulled back on the string of his bow. As he did, the markings engraved within the aperture of his bow began to glow a bluish-white. Letting out a fierce cry, he opened his eyes and released the string of his bow.

In that moment, the white aura from the markings expanded violently around them. An explosion of light followed. Thousands of arrows of light launched outward, penetrating and obliterating each and every spider.

The white aura collapsed back in on the bow. The glow of the markings faded.

The creatures were destroyed.

His strength exhausted, Trystan lost consciousness and fell to the ground.

“Trystan?” Marc eyed their surroundings, finding no movement anywhere around them. Cautiously, he secured their weapons. Then he scooped Trystan up in his arms and carried him in the direction he’d last seen Emrys running.

***

Emrys paced nervously beneath the towering stone trees. Marc appeared, carrying Trystan in his arms. Concerned, Emrys ran over to him. “Marc, thank the Gods. How is he? Is he all right? What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Marc answered. “Help me find somewhere to set him down.”

Emrys cleared away some rocks, and Marc laid Trystan down on the hard earth. Emrys looked him over.

“We were surrounded,” Marc said. “I didn’t think we would make it out. Then, suddenly, somehow, there was a white light and what looked like a burst of arrows all at once. When it was gone, all the spiders were dead and Trystan was passed out on the ground.”

“Rest easy now, Marc. He’s going to be all right. He just needs some time.”

“How can you be sure?”

“The white glow and sudden onslaught of arrows you described… It is one of the most powerful abilities of the bow, Lokheira. When executed, it draws from the life essence of its wielder in order to defeat its enemies. All of the elemental weapons do.”

“Good to know for the future. How long before he wakes up?”

“Likely several hours, but we should keep moving. One of us will need to carry him.”

***

Trystan awoke to find himself cradled in Marc’s arms. He remained still, only opening his eyes, while he tried to recollect the last thing that happened. Spiders and a white glow, then darkness. Now, here they were, walking calmly under a canopy of stone trees.

Marc glanced down at him, and, not expecting him to be awake, casually looked back up. When he realized a split second later that his eyes were open, he stopped walking and looked back down at him to find him smiling up at him.

“Emrys,” he called, sinking down to his knees so that Trystan could sit down. “My love, how are you feeling?”

“My head aches, but otherwise, I think I’m all right.” Looking around, he asked, “How long have I been out for?”

“A couple hours at least, if not more,” Marc answered.

“I take it those things were the giant bark spiders you warned us about?” Trystan asked, rubbing at the nape of his neck and back of his head.

“I suspect so.” He paused for a moment. “According to the stories, they don’t spin webs to capture prey. Instead, they blend into the trees so they cannot be seen. Without warning, they attack their victims, paralyze them, and then devour them immediately while still alive, as the sufferer screams in agony. Those who lived to tell their tale were said to be haunted by nightmares of their companions’ screams and they, themselves, would awake screaming uncontrollably.” He paused again. “We should consider ourselves very fortunate to have escaped unharmed.”

“Well, nearly unharmed,” Trystan said as he felt the knot on his head and noticed the bite on Marc’s arm had bled through his shirt. Trystan touched his arm, thinking he might be able to heal it.

“Don’t,” Emrys stopped him, gently pushing his arm down. “You don’t have your strength back yet.”

Emrys straightened. “We are safe for now, deep within the Blaiddúlfur Forest, though it’s not much to look at. Everything here has been dead for over a thousand years.”

“Or petrified,” Trystan commented as he examined the forest around them.

Trystan started to stand up, though still a little shaky. Marc stood with him, his hands along his side to steady him.