A Bored Lich

Olpi jammed the poisoned needle between Owen's ribs and ran, trying not to stumble over her feet as she kicked up heaps of heavy snow. The antidote within her grasp, she needed only make it over to Frey. Looking over her shoulder, she saw a flash of copper life essence, then felt a tremendous pressure skim off her delicate shoulder blade.

Trees, snow, and sky all blurred together; She spun through the air, crashing into a world of white, blinding pain. She coughed and wheezed, her body practically convulsing. The wind had been knocked out of her. 'If I had taken that head on…' her thoughts cut off as she gasped for air. 'Frey's supposed to fight against him?'

She gritted her teeth and pushed herself upright to see Owen on his knees, slowly turning his focus from the needle in his side to the one who had put it there. It was as if she could see the little reason he had left drain from his face, which darkened with mal-intent.

Frey wasn't as slow to act, diving for his pole axe, then rolling into a charge, even though the quick action left his armor behind.

"Wait," Olpi tried to say, but only managed to let out a pained groan.

"Olpi, run!" Frey yelled as he passed by. "You're only in the way here."

"Wait," Olpi coughed, holding the antidote up for him to see, except it wasn't in her hand, nor her sleeve, nor in the snow immediately around her. Her eyes went wide. "Frey, trust me. Stop!"

He didn't spare her another look. It was too late. Nothing could stop him now. He rushed at Owen like an unstoppable storm of crackling, copper energy, snow seemingly diving out of his path, then sent his pole axe thundering down.

Owen waited for the swing, then palmed the heavy metal tip, not to block the strike, but to shift its momentum so it sank into the dirt instead of his skull. Leaping to his feet, his fists flew three times into Frey's face, thudding against the nose, jaw, and an ear with practiced precision.

'Why is Frey so slow,' Olpi thought as she watched the display.

Frey literally spat the answer into his opponent's face: blackened blood. He huffed out a foggy breath into the cold night air, then lashed the back of his pole axe across Owen's cheek with a crack, splattering his bright red blood across the white snow.

Olpi nearly slapped herself. 'Of course,' she thought. It took time until Frey noticed the poison. Owen should barely feel its effects. Without that antidote, he's going to lose.' It was easier said than done, for when she tried to push up to her feet, she cried out as another wave of pain assaulted her back. Then, her ears twitched. A pair of unknown footsteps walked out of the brush.

"Need some help?" a voice asked.

"Elero?" Olpi asked. She excitedly turned around only to see a smelly, bearded man, whose pale skin peered out of the many holes in his rags.

The man pulled Olpi out of the snow with a heavy groan, as if he was in more pain than she was, and began walking her away from the fight. "Don't worry little girl. Leave this to Frey and the rest of us."

"Us?" Olpi asked, wondering if she should cry or shove him away or both. The man pointed. She followed his finger to dozens of similar individuals, who all emerged from the opposite side of the clearing. In their bony, dirty hands were bows, crossbows, and slings.

Olpi slowly turned her attention from the rag-tag group to the two combatants; Both were clad in copper life essence as they threw precise strikes at each other in blurs of motion, displaying their skills from countless hours of training. The power behind each hit sent snow flying higher than the treetops.

"Fire!" The man yelled. He had an air of superiority around him that pushed the group to collectively let loose a hail of arrows and rocks. Olpi only expected half to make it across the clearing, but to her surprise the arrows whistled into Owen, whose life essence faintly dimmed with each hit. Frey took a few stray shots but he took it willingly. The man held his hand up but not everyone ceased fire at once: "Hold fire until another opening!"

Olpi tore her gaze away from the awkward battle and pushed herself off the man's shoulder: "I need to go back."

"Hold it," the man said, grabbing the back of her robe with surprising strength. "We might have a few weeks of training and a few veterans among us, but we're not all that accurate. If you go out there...what are you even going to do out there?"

"Thanks for the warning," Olpi said, struggling to get free.

"Yet you're still going?" the man asked. "Are you mad?"

"Better to risk getting shot than let my friend die while there's something I can still do about it," Olpi yelled, finally breaking away from his grip. No, he had let her go.

"Fine," the man said. "But what are you supposed to do against him? Can we help?"

"What are a few people supposed to do against me," Owen asked as arrows bounced off his hardened skin. A vein bulged on his forehead, slowly blackening as the seconds flew by like the arrows sailing past his head.

Frey took a breath, then changed at him again. "Anything to beat you."

"I tried to keep the number of innocents down, but you're involving all of these people in your own fight!" Owen yelled as he narrowly dodged another one of Frey's swings

"So?" Frey asked as he reared back.

"Aren't you supposed to keep your past a secret?" Owen swept Frey's leg and the strike swung wide. He stepped forward and aimed an elbow at Frey's knee.

"What good does it do to keep it a secret anymore?" Frey asked. He caught Owen's elbow in the crook of his pole axe head and used Owen's own grip to take them both to the ground. From there, a struggle ensued for one of them to end up on top.

Frey pressed all of his weight onto Owen and, in a few seconds, had the man's shoulders on the ground. Then, he beat him. His fists rained down one after the other as he poured out all his rage onto Owen's face. 'I need him alive. I should keep him alive,' he kept telling himself. It was easy to get lost but, as he thought back to that empty cage, his vision cleared.

He hesitated and, in that moment, Owen kicked Frey off of him, flew to his feet, and glared at the crowd of Frey's rescuers. Each time they separated, without fail, their arrows would come to chip away at his life essence. Mana crackled around his hand, which he thrust forward. "I told you, you shouldn't have involved them."

Frey ducked under the spell, which sailed over his head and into the forest. The radiant energy struck a tree at the back of the formation, exploding outwards with light so bright it turned night into day. The closest were engulfed in the searing light, who fell dead at the survivors' feet.

They turned to run.

Owen fired at their backs.. He had plenty of mana left.