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Chapter 35: The Power of The Sidhe
Chapter 35: The Power of The Sidhe
Silas approached Tiffany. Despite her recent ordeal, she stood tall and composed, her armor gleaming in the fading light.
"I'm sorry I didn't join you in the fight, but it looked like I'd only get in the way," Silas said. "You were incredible, though. You said you were good, but I didn't know that level of fighting was possible."
Tiffany turned to him, her expression softening slightly. She waved her hand dismissively, as if defeating a powerful elven warrior was a mere trifle.
"Thank you, Silas, but it was nothing extraordinary. Thorne may have been formidable by mortal standards, but he was just an elf. Compared to the true Sidhe, he was barely more than a nuisance."
Silas's eyes widened at her casual dismissal of such a powerful opponent. "But he nearly matched you in combat. Are you saying the Sidhe are even stronger?"
Tiffany's eyes took on a distant look, as if recalling memories from long ago. "The Sidhe are in a league of their own, Silas. Their power is... difficult to comprehend. What you saw today was but a pale shadow of their true capabilities."
She paused, considering her words carefully. "Thorne was dangerous, yes, but he lacked the innate magic that flows through Sidhe veins. Their connection to the very essence of magic itself makes them formidable beyond measure."
"Our main advantage in this war," Tiffany said, her voice low and serious, "is that the Sidhe are few in number. They reproduce only once in a millennium, which means there are probably no more than a few thousand of them in existence."
Tiffany continued, "Humans, on the other hand, number in the billions. Our sheer population gives us an edge that the Sidhe can't match."
She paused, her gaze distant as if recalling countless battles. "There's another factor working in our favor. The Sidhe, for all their power and arrogance, prefer not to dirty their hands in direct combat. They consider it beneath them."
Silas frowned, trying to reconcile this information with the brutal attacks they had just witnessed. "But if they're so powerful, why wouldn't they fight themselves?"
Tiffany's lips curved into a wry smile. "Pride, mostly. And perhaps a touch of cowardice. They send lesser fae to do their bidding instead. Creatures like Thorne or the goblins and ogres we faced today. It's a way for them to wage war without risking their own immortal lives."
"Tiffany," he ventured, "what was that glowing energy coming off your bodies?"
Tiffany's eyebrows rose in surprise. "That's an impressive ability, Silas. Can you locate any of your classmates?"
Silas scanned the area, his enhanced vision piercing through the chaos. Suddenly, he spotted a familiar aura trapped beneath a pile of wooden beams.
"There!" he exclaimed, pointing towards a collapsed structure. "I think it's Jace. He's pinned under some debris."
Without hesitation, they rushed towards the fallen building. As they approached, Silas could make out Jace's muffled calls for help.
"Jace!" Silas shouted. "We're here! We're going to get you out!"
Silas approached the pile of rubble, his muscles tensing as he prepared to lift the heavy beams. To his surprise, the wood felt lighter than he expected. His enhanced strength, a result of his recent transformations, made the task far easier than it should have been.
"Hang on, Jace," Silas called out as he hefted a large beam off the pile. "We'll have you out in no time."
Tiffany watched with raised eyebrows as Silas cleared away the debris with remarkable speed and efficiency. Within minutes, they uncovered Jace, who looked shaken but largely unharmed.
"Thanks, dude," Jace said, grasping Silas's outstretched hand. "I thought I was done for."
With Jace freed, they set out to find the others. Silas's aura sight proved invaluable as they navigated the smoke-filled village. One by one, they located Rowan, Lyra, and Nadia, along with the rest of their classmates.
To everyone's relief, there were no fatalities among the students. Some sported cuts, bruises, and minor burns, but nothing life-threatening. Tiffany produced a small bag of healing potions from her armor, distributing them among the injured.
"Drink up," she instructed, her voice firm but reassuring. "These will help with the pain and speed up your recovery."
Silas watched as his classmates downed the potions, their injuries visibly improving within moments. The tension in the air began to dissipate as everyone realized they had made it through the ordeal relatively unscathed.