A guard with a short, black goatee began to rub his hands together, sparks flying from the friction. I knew what he was going to do; I’d seen a Mage like him before. He was going to electrocute Dagon.
I sent a jet of fire towards the guard, who was blasted from his feet, his uniform alight. He immediately began to roll on the grass, trying to douse the flames. Another man removed his cloak and wrapped it around the first to put the flames out.
Red cloaks and grey uniforms surrounded us, and were closing a ring around me, Hawthorne, and Dagon. I threw my hand down to Dagon, who refused to take the offer of help.
‘Get airborne!’ he demanded. ‘Attack from above like Fae!’
‘You’ll be killed!’ I shouted back, sending another guard flying with a well-aimed flame thrower.
‘Go!’ Dagon ordered, slapping Hawthorne on the rear end as though he were a horse.
I kicked Hawthorne in the sides, and we took off. I saw Fae, shooting enemies in the legs, the arms, the hands, disabling each and every one of them. They quickly vanished, however, and I was led to believe that a Teleporter-Mage was whisking the injured out of harm's way.
Meanwhile, Fae was shooting guards left, right, and centre from Shadow’s position in the air, but to no avail. The black girl was quick, and shields were popping up wherever Fae aimed. I could see Fae becoming increasingly agitated with each failed attempt. The shield Mage seemed to have a far greater Power than Fae, as she was able to overcome Fae’s own Power-dampening abilities enough to protect her allies.
At that moment, I heard yells and war cries behind me. Spinning Hawthorne around, I saw hundreds of people outside the gate beginning to force their way into the grounds. They climbed over the fence, bent the bars, or knocked sections down completely. Once a large enough gap had been created, they spilled inside, charging towards us like an angry stampede of bulls.
I didn’t know whose side they were on. Were they human empathisers, or Realm supporters? I watched them approach us, noticing their clothing. No one who worked for the Realm would dress so commonly.
I was right in my assumption. The hoard of unfamiliar Mages clashed violently with the Realm and its guard. Some carried weapons such as swords, clubs, bats, and flaming torches. The guards and employees of the Realm formed a wall of red and grey, preventing the trespassers entry into the Headquarters.
One thing each and every human-supporter had in common, however, was a patch sewn to the front of their clothes; an orange flame in the shape of a tear drop. The symbol was everywhere; painted on people’s faces, and drawn on their arms.
Was it for me?
I was overcome with emotion then, due to the overwhelming number of Mages that had shown up to support me. But how had they known?
I didn’t have time to dwell upon that thought; enemies stood mere meters below, aiming their Power at Hawthorne, trying to shoot him out of the sky.
Jolts of electricity shot past, narrowly missing Hawthorne’s underbelly. Hawthorne dived at the Mage responsible, without my instruction, and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. I clung on for dear life as he rocketed back into the sky, the guard dangling from his mouth.
‘Put me down!’ he bellowed, flailing in all directions.
Hawthorne did as he asked, dropping the Mage from fifty feet in the air. He fell to the ground with a shriek, but was silent as soon as his body hit the grass.
The Realm wasn’t the only party sustaining injuries. Many townspeople had already crumbled at the hands of the guard. After all, they weren’t trained in matters of war.
‘Avalon!’ Fae yelled, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I turned to see her flying towards me, her bow outstretched.
‘Ignite the arrows!’ she said, holding the pointed end towards me
I obeyed at once, setting the arrowhead alight. Fae positioned it into her bow once more before shooting it directly through a window of the Realm. It smashed through the glass and out of sight. I wondered what it had hit and whether it had caught fire.
Cries and shouts sounded from the ground below, and I saw a young boy, who looked to be only fourteen, being held down by two guards, getting pummelled into the dirt.
Hawthorne dived for the boy, and I dismounted as soon as we hit the ground, sending a fireball to each of the guards in turn.
Now free, the teenager got to his feet.
‘Thank you!’ he wheezed, before running off to join the fray once again.
‘Hey!’ I called after him. ‘You’re going to get yourself killed!’
‘Equality is worth dying for!’ he shouted over his shoulder.
His simple sentence had frozen me to the spot. The boy was right, and I was rendered momentarily speechless.
The supporters had taken it upon themselves to charge forward and engage in violent battle. They punched, kicked, and bludgeoned the guards. Many had useful Powers, such as super strength, speed, or skin of steel, but the Realm was an equal match for the onslaught of commoners.