The fight was a blur of motion, the air crackling with tension. Carlos moved with a purpose, each strike of his blade quick and precise, each movement fueled by his desperation to save his brother. The elf, with their fluid grace, was a formidable opponent—every strike they made was met with Carlos's steel, each clash ringing through the forest like the toll of a bell. Their swords met with sparks, the sound echoing off the trees, but it was clear that Carlos was not just fighting for survival—he was fighting for time.
The elf's speed was astonishing. Their movements were like the wind itself, darting in and out, striking with the force of a whirlwind, yet Carlos never faltered. His hand, despite the constant burn of the fire within, was steady. The blessing of wind allowed him to move like the breeze, just as the fire within him gave his blade a deadly edge. He was no longer the boy who had been thrust into the chaos of battle for the first time. In this moment, he was a commander, honed by the harshness of war in his past life.
The elf's amber eyes were locked onto him, their face betraying no emotion—just the cold determination of someone who had been bound to the Mother Tree for centuries, entrusted with its protection. But Carlos could see the subtle tremor in their movements as they began to realize something was different about this mortal boy before them. This wasn't just another mortal trying to steal from them. No. This boy was something else entirely.
Carlos pressed on, his heart beating fiercely in his chest, pushing through the searing pain in his hands from the fire that burned beneath his skin. The elf struck again, aiming for Carlos's side, but Carlos danced back, narrowly avoiding the strike. The wind caught the boat behind him, pushing it forward as Carlos parried with his sword. The force of the elf's strike reverberated up his arm, but he was prepared—his body moved with the wind, and he struck back.
They locked swords once more, but this time, Carlos pushed forward, using his power to break through the elf's defense. The elf faltered for a moment, surprised by the raw power that surged from Carlos. The fire inside him flared, and his sword flashed with a violent intensity, pushing the elf back.
For a split second, their gazes met—an unspoken understanding between them. The elf wasn't just defending the Mother Tree; they were defending their very way of life. But Carlos couldn't afford to hesitate. His brother was dying.
Carlos took a deep breath, his focus narrowing to just one thing—the Mother Tree. With a fluid motion, he leaped forward, his sword aimed straight for the elf's chest. The elf barely had time to react before Carlos's blade collided with theirs, shattering their guard. The force of the impact sent the elf stumbling back, their sword falling from their grasp, but Carlos was not done.
With one final, fluid motion, Carlos spun and drove his sword into the earth at the elf's feet, pinning them in place. The elf's amber eyes widened, their breath coming in quick gasps, but they didn't fight. They didn't move. Carlos's sword was at their throat now, the edge just inches from their skin.
Carlos's chest heaved with the weight of his breath, but he didn't lower his blade. The elf was defeated, but Carlos knew that this wasn't the end of his journey.
He glanced down at the elf, their face filled with the silent acceptance of defeat. They were no longer trying to fight; they were waiting, perhaps even hoping, that Carlos would show mercy. But Carlos had no mercy left for them. He had no mercy left for anyone but his brother.
"Tell your guardians," Carlos spoke, his voice low and cold, "that if they dare to follow me, I will kill every last one of them. I only want the root. Nothing more."
The elf's amber eyes didn't flicker. They nodded slowly, their breath steadying.
Carlos stood up straight, not sparing another glance for the fallen elf. He turned his back and made his way toward the path that would lead him to the Mother Tree. The boat behind him shifted gently in the water, the wind guiding him forward. He felt the presence of the trees around him—the weight of centuries pressing down. But he didn't care. The only thing that mattered was the root, and the time it would take to get back to his brother.
As he walked, the elf behind him remained silent. They had not spoken, and they would not stop him. He was a mask of the Outer Gods, and nothing would stand in his way.
The trees parted ahead, revealing the clearing where the Mother Tree stood—a colossal, ancient being, its branches stretching far into the sky. The air around it hummed with power, a deep, resonating energy that made the hairs on the back of Carlos's neck stand on end. This was the heart of the elves, and it pulsed with life.
But Carlos didn't hesitate. He approached the tree with a single-minded determination, knowing that the root was within reach. Time was running out, and he would not fail. Not again. Not when his brother's life hung in the balance.
The wind whispered through the leaves, and Carlos felt the god's power surge within him. He was ready. He had come too far to turn back now.
The Mother Tree loomed before him. And Carlos was prepared to claim what he had come for, no matter the cost.