Chapter 7 - Ambush on the Road

All eyes were darting around, trying to see where the attack would come from. The road was completely clear, and the closest cover would have been the small grove they passed a few minutes ago. Too far to hide, and a high chance of being the goblin’s hideout.
Tension was rising, and Lumen gulped, uneasy.
The silence was thick. None of them dared make a sound. Even the wind was holding its breath. No leaves rustling. No bird chirping. No critters going on with their day. 

Visions of dreams swarm my mind. Blood dripping, metallic smell, black roses. Sharp pain. The spear—

Lumen took a deep breath and calmly gave out instructions.
“Morgan, protect our right flank, thrown spears. Aurora, please trust me. Don’t use your shield. Heilig, stay close, don’t let them lure you out. Watch out for burrows.” 
An instant of hesitation. Lumen reached for the chain and pulled the peg holding it together. With a loud clang, most of it fell to the ground, one end still attached to the staff.
“Listen to him.” Aurora’s stern voice finished convincing the other two.

The wind picked up. More and more visions were layering over Lumen’s reality. Each one coming with phantom pain in another part of his body. Gripping the spiky peg, he stabbed himself in the side, groaning. Leaving the piece of wood in, focusing on that real pain, he grabbed his staff with both hands and adjusted his stance. The metal links clanked as they were dragged around, lifted off the ground, until the chain sat in a semi-circle around him and his companions.

A whistling gave the signal. A barbed spear, heavy as a small log, flew towards them from their right side. Immediately, the ground erupted, and a dozen goblins jumped out, surrounding the group. War cries drowned the silence as more were darting from the grove.
A gust of wind repelled the first spear. As it landed, a second one took flight. Whoever was throwing them stayed out of sight, but Lumen had a good idea where they were standing.

“Morgan, bloom around that tree!” With a swift motion of his weighted staff, he intercepted the second spear in the chain. Before a third could be thrown, a garden of roses, in all the colors he could imagine, blossomed instantly where he pointed. With a pained roar, a troll got up from its hiding place. 
Tall among the goblins, it felt out of place. Its massive body was almost entirely covered in curly, stone-grey hair. Despite its size, the creature was moving fast, getting out of the briars in a matter of seconds. Red patches stained its fur. Jumping out of the flowers, the ground quaked when it landed. The air shook when it let out a bestial howl.

The goblins weren’t expecting that, and some were showing signs of concern. Heilig seized the opportunity and jumped the one closest to him. In a flowing motion, like a wave swirling at large, he threw it above his shoulder, sending it flying a few meters away.
With a squishy sound, another one fell to Aurora’s blade.
Lumen was still focusing on the thorn in his side to escape the visions. The phantom pains were vanishing, but he was still seeing his companions die a hundred deaths.

A goblin, bolder than its comrades, stepped on the chain. Has it been the troll’s hairy leg, it may have been an issue. But the frail stature of the small creature wasn’t enough to hold it down. A precise hit from Lumen’s staff landed between its eyes, and the chain propagated the shockwave to shove it off its feet. It was an instinctual reflex. Honed by years of training with this weapon, Lumen’s body reacted on its own, and as the goblin laid prone on the ground, the wave reached the end of the chain and whipped it in the face. 

Heilig’s skull, split in half by a massive club. His brain spilling out from a gaping wound on its back. The grey goo mixing with copious amounts of dark red fluids.

The goblin stopped moving. Its head crushed like an over-ripened fruit, its contents scrawled all around. Seeing two of their kin die, and bolstered by the troll’s frenzy, the rest of the goblins lunged to attack. 

Aurora’s head, swinging from side to side, held by a huge hand in her hair.
Lumen’s arm, shattered, mangled, powdered bones mixed in minced meat.
Heilig, eyes open, a shocked expression forever cemented on the sword’s tip coming out of his torso.
Aurora, lying in the dirt, her armor scattered around.
Lumen, crawling on the floor away from his screaming companions.
Morgan, impaled on her own staff.
Heilig’s red blood soiling his cloak.
Aurora shield, fractured. Lumen, dying.

The visions were succeeding ever faster, blurring the line between reality and dreams.
Lumen had already seen them all. His nights were plagued since he was young by those. Fragments of lives where he and his companions died. A hundred. A thousand. He lost count. So many ways. So much suffering. Always the same end.
Cold.
Dark.
Alone.

He came back to his senses as a tall shadow blocked the sun.
Human-paste seeping into the soil. Not the worst. Fast. Not much pain. A split-second impact, and the ever-growing darkness.

With a grunt, Aurora deflected the giant club. The metallic sound didn’t cover the crack from her bones. Yet, she readjusted her stance to hold her shield straight before her, covering Lumen from the troll. 

Blood-covered copper. Rhythmical splashing. Spear in the flank, pain. Pain. Pain. 
The pain was real. It wasn’t a spear. It was his own stake, lodged in his side. The tip of his staff was resting on the ground, the chain partly covered in bloodied mud. He didn’t need to see it. It was going around Aurora, and in front of the troll, which was swinging its club above its head, ready to strike.
Lumen’s wrist arched, his arm straightened, his shoulder swung, and with a ripple, the chain came alive and coiled around the troll’s hairy and thick leg. Before it could realize what was around its ankle, Lumen bent his knee, lowering his center of mass, and pulled the staff behind him, lifting the unsuspecting feet off the ground. Losing its balance from the heavy weight of its weapon, the troll fell on its back with a loud thud.
Aurora seized the chance, letting her shield down, and dove toward the giant to plunge her sword into its eye. As its grip loosened, the club rolled away, stopping after a few meters. The goblins stopped for a second, wondering if it was worth it. Lumen and Morgan each took down a couple of them before the rest scattered.

A couple dozen small creatures, the color of dirt and leaves, running for their life.
“Don’t pursue. We lost enough time, and we won’t get them all. Let’s move.”
Aurora’s orders didn’t leave any place for discussion; her left arm was dangling by her side, but she didn’t seem to care. Lumen quickly gathered the chain around his staff and, with a wince, grabbed the stake from his side to put it back to hold everything. Morgan quickly weaved a spell to stop the bleeding, but he knew he’d have to take care of the wound when they would next stop. And he had no idea when it would be.