When the world ends, would you want to be asleep? As the horizon crumbles, or the reaper’s shadow looms, would you face it; or allow your dreams to comfort you through?
The young and proud tend to believe that facing death with open eyes is a noble act, but they’re wrong. Those who see his face in every waking moment, the old; ill and the acquainted, they know that to sleep – to dream – is a mercy one cannot discount.
Amell Fielder was a man who had learnt to blink at death. He was a man who knew what the reaper hid behind his shadow. He had felt his final breath and he had taken it twice. His heart had raced until he let it go. He had chosen to dream through his death, but his death hadn’t come. Now he dreamt through life instead. A blessing and a kindness had become a plague.
“The blue giant?”
He rode through the woods in search of a trail, a hint, a sign of hope. He had been so close. He had seen the whites of her eyes, and now he could have been a nation away and not known. He refused to let his destiny ride off without him. He had lost so much; he couldn’t lose hope. Not when he had been so close.
“Is he a friend? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
Cobalt eyes traced the tree line as a fresh memory pounded in his head. A heretic, a liar. The Conclave had so publicly condemned her, and yet she must have been the Champion. They had to be lying.
“They’ve already denounced me? I thought I had more time.”
The tracks led east, but hooves obscured them completely. He raced all the faster, he couldn’t let the Veytors find her before he did. There was too much at stake.
“Veytors? Fuck, I need to wake up. Look, I don’t care if you’re the Black Goden or what, just let me go. I need to get moving.”
Fates clashed and were soon to intertwine. At the start of her journey would a promised betrayal be fulfilled. At the start of her journey would the heartbeat of the world call for her. By the end of her journey would a father be made. At the end of her journey would a mother be found.
“Enough! No more narration. No more cryptic half-clues. Just wake me up!”
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“Please, Ash. Wake up,” a little voice cried. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Please, just wake up.” She clung to Ash’s hand and whimpered quietly into her palm.
“I-” Ash coughed.
“ASH!” The young girl wailed. She frantically fussed and prodded over her sister’s scrapes and burns as Ash slowly came to her senses. “Can you hear me? Are you alright?”
The sun shone through a charred hole in the treetops. Black ash covered her and her sister while white ash clung to the trees around them.
“I-” Ash tried to say, though her effort quickly failed her. “I said... don’t blow us up.” She sighed.
“What?” Ev begged, bringing her ear to Ash’s cracked lips.
“I said... don’t blow us up... It was literally the first thing... I- I said when I gave you the... the book.” Ash said with a pained smile. “One rule.” She chuckled.
“I’m so sorry, Ash. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I- I don’t know what I did... How I did it.”
“It's okay, Ev.” She croaked. “It's not your fault. Something clearly went wrong.”
“I- I healed your burns... The worst of them, anyway.” Ev quietly sobbed.
“And the enchanter?”
“I am well, Ashtik,” Sujin called from afar. “Not so badly burnt as to require healing.”
“Do you know what happened?” Ash feebly called back.
“I haven’t the slightest clue, truth be told,” he said as he waded through the snowlike ash. It came up to his ankle as he limped along. “It was clearly a magical explosion, but we weren’t using magic. It shouldn’t be possible.”
“What do you remember, Ev?” Ash asked as she began to sit up. She ran a somewhat raw hand over Ev’s feverish little cheeks.
“I- There was fire. Green fire, and so much of it. It looked like...”
“The wall pyre.” Ash finished as Ev trailed off into thought. “You had a vision of the siege, didn’t you?”
“Wh- yes, how did you know?”
“I saw it too. You were stood atop of the elder’s home. The rains were too heavy for us to light the walls, so you fired a flaming bolt and it all went up in.” Ash recalled. “But I saw it through your eyes, you said ‘burn’.”
“And it burned.”
Ash didn’t know if Evara really had cast a spell back then, or why it caused her to explode now, but she quickly remembered her truer priorities. The dream; the warning.
“We need to move.” Ash sternly said. She tried to rise but quickly failed and fell to a knee until Evara caught her and took what little of Ash’s steel-clad weight she could.
“You’re going nowhere.” Ev protested. “You can barely speak, let alone travel. You need rest.”
“There’s no time,” Ash quietly insisted. She took to her own, far from sturdy, feet and marched downstream without another word about it.
“Ash?” The little voice pressed. “Ash!” She called out as her sister continued on her warpath. “Ashtik Sai-Weleg, you will stand still or so help me Taeva; I will set off another explosion.”
“We haven’t got time to stand around and argue. The Veytors are on our trail and they gain on us every second we aren’t sprinting in the opposite direction.” Ash shouted.
“Veytors? How do you know, and how did you know about my vision? What aren’t you telling me?”
“We can talk while we move, Ev,” Ash insisted. “Sujin, move your ass.”
“Of course, Ashtik.” He answered. “But Evara is right about you needing to rest.”
“What about the way I treat you has ever suggested that I value your opinion?” Ash viciously snapped.
“Sister!”
“Whine later, move now,” Ash ordered one last time. The severity on her tongue and the heat in her eyes took any hope for protest and dashed them against the seared oaks.
They had made it less than ten minutes before an ancient omen sunk her heart. A murder of crows flocked to the sky at their backs. They flew from their tracks, near the scorched trees. It had to be cavalry, there would be no other reason for the birds to flee together. She considered: run and the horses would soon catch up and trample them; hide and hope they can’t track them to their refuge but then they would arrive at the port city first and cut them off. She decided a fight would be her only chance. A fair fight against a horde of Veytors wouldn’t go well, so something else had to be done.
“Ash?” Evara timidly whispered as her sister fell behind. Ash all but ignored her, instead whistling out to the fleeing crows. A half dozen heard her call and came to the ground before her. Ash knelt, looked into their eyes and knew.
“There are six Veytors at the burnt woods. It's an advanced scout party, hundreds march from the west.” Ash relayed to the others. “Go, keep an eye on them,” she ordered of the birds.
“What do we do?” Ev asked.
“We run!” Sujin insisted.
“No, they’ll catch us eventually. We can take them by surprise, it gives us a chance. Sujin, are you any good in a fight?” Ash asked.
“Better than most,” he shyly answered. “But not better than horseback Veytors.”
“What do you know about them, either of you?” Ash pressed.
The two shared worried glances between each other but it was Evara who spoke first, “They hunt anything heretical. Dark magicians, Vampris and... you.”
“So, they’re geared towards fighting magic?” Ash hurriedly asked.
“Yes, they wear enchanted robes instead of armour. They are less prepared for Ser Stabby than they would be for their usual foes.”
“Okay, what else do you know?” She pressed.
“They ride war chargers, not trackers.” Sujin put forth.
“So, the horses will go headfirst into whatever we offer them, so long as the rider is distracted.” Ash guessed.
“Possibly.”
“Then... can you enchant some fog? We’ll draw them in, blind them, and have them charge into a ditch or some spikes.” Ash said with a hopeful look.
“That would take time to prepare. They can’t be more than a few minutes away.” Sujin replied.
“But could you do it?”
“I... Yes, they aren’t as capable against enchanters as they are mages. I should be able to make a strong enough fog charm.” He decided, balling his fist against his apron.
“Then get to work, I’ll buy us some time,” Ash ordered.
“How?”
Ash whistled out again, only this time it wasn’t a couple of crows that came to her call; it was all things great and small. A fox and vixen, a fluffle of rabbits, a dray of red squirrels, a prickle of hedgehogs and every colour songbird came to heed her words.
“Tracks, cover. Horse, block. Night, hold.” Ash called out, and with it, the small stampede dispersed into the woods.
“That’s incredible.” Sujin awed.
“Get to work, enchanter.”
----------------------------------------
They had spent long enough on their traps. What were designed to skewer rabbits and rats, were now large enough to fell horses and men. The enchanter had spent the dusk scrawling over slabs of copper. He must have finished two-score of them before he began scattering them around the planned ambush zone. They had made a bastion of a small clearing. Spikes circled the centre where their little camp lay. They hadn’t dared temp fate by lighting a fire, so Sujin had been kind enough to grant them a warming rune to cook on. The moment seemed calm, and the battle seemed far enough away that Ash could make right with her companions.
“I-” she coughed. “I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you, Sujin.”
“Don’t worry about it, Ashtik.”
“No, you’ve been a great help this entire time. I don’t ignore you because I dislike you, It's just how I am. I’m sorry.” Ash nearly whispered.
“I understand,” Sujin warmly insisted. “But do not worry. I know you only want what's best. I do not begrudge you a harsh tone after you saved my life so valiantly.”
“Saved your life?” Ash repeated.
“You don’t remember?”
“Remember what?”
“Ash,” Ev whispered, “you stopped me during the fire, right?”
“I didn’t stop you... I passed out,” said Ash.
“What? No, you put your hand on my cheek and told me to sleep. Don’t you remember?” Ev insisted.
Ash agonised over the memory, but there was nothing. She hadn’t done that. She had collapsed on the ground and passed out. She matched eyes with the curious little girl and asked, “I told you to sleep and you just fell asleep?”
“Aye.”
“Ashtik, if I may?” Sujin contended. Ash just shrugged through her thoughts. “Well, it's just... I am correct in assuming that you are the Champion of Black, yes?”
“Gods!” Evara gasped. “We didn’t tell you, did we? How could we be so stupid?”
“It’s okay, I put the pieces together after you first mentioned the Veytors.” He awkwardly chuckled. “It’s just that the Black Goden is the patron of dreams, no? Maybe he has granted you some power over dreams.”
“Well, he certainly has power over mine,” Ash grumbled.
“What do you mean?” Ev asked.
“He, or it, talks to me while I sleep. I couldn’t remember at first. I’d wake up and it was as though the dreams didn’t happen. Now? Almost every night he has some dire warning and dangerous prophecy.”
“Like what?”
“Like when I passed out in the fire. I saw some massive knight in blue armour riding to meet us. He was following our tracks but soon realised the Veytors were ahead of him.”
“This... Knight, is he a friend?” Ev asked.
“I... think so. I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough, though.” The Champion sighed.
“What else has he told you?”
“I... I dreamt the old smith murdered me. I’ve been warned about a betrayal a few times too, so signs aren’t looking good for you, Enchanter.” Ash teased. He took it as something of an accusation by the horror in his eye.
“Ashtik, I wouldn’t. It would make no sense to betray you. Afterall, you hold the key to my future. If I hand it in without you, it would be rejected.” He insisted.
“Yeah, don’t worry. Prophecy and dreams... They aren’t really reliable. It's going to turn out that a smith’s hammer will fall from the roof and hit her on the head or something mundane. If it was as simple as that, it needn’t be so cryptically conveyed.” Evara laughed. “Still, don’t get any ideas.”
He managed a laugh, though it was far from revelrous.
“Anything else?” Ev half-jokingly urged.
“Just a giant thousand-legged spider, a blue giant wielding a sword of light, a creepy blonde guy... What else? Oh yeah, one where you betray me and I’m just kinda cool with it. Also, I'm pretty sure I was some kinda empress in that one.” Ash recalled.
“Oh, is that all?” Ev teased.
“Something about stealing the stars,” she pondered with a sigh, “nope; that’s it!”
“The- the er, spider. How giant, exactly?” Sujin quietly stammered. He spoke as one would when they mask some undesirable fear.
“Size of a large town, I think. Why, you’re not scared of spiders are you?” Ash grinned.
“Of course I am! You’re supposed to be, that’s why they look so wrong.” He masked a yelp with a slight cough before settling back into his seat.
He stunk of liar's magic. His fingers dripped with the grease of cruel enchantment. His chin ran with the spittle of falsehood. The creature had followed them far for this moment. This kill.
Its fleshy fangs licked its broken lips as its shuddering spine rattled noiselessly. The white-hair was a threat, she was so charged; so ready to blow. It crept closer to the liar while keeping her as far away as it could. It could almost taste him, the foulness; the bile. The drool poured out by the bucket as it came closer.
“Ash...” The white-hair whispered.
“I know, stay still.” The other replied.
It wasn’t going to stop till his organs were pulp. Till it saw through his eyes and spoke with his lips. The bones that meshed together to form a jaw cracked and shattered to open wide enough to fit him whole. It reared to lunge, but something else blocked its path. The man ran, and the girl stood as a threat. It watched him wrap the white-hair in his vile arms. He lied even now, pretending to protect her. It would rip and tear him apart, even if it meant slaughtering these others.
“Stop,” and it stopped. It didn’t know why it stopped, but it did. This woman, the huntress, approached it so very slowly. She crept like it did. She was low to the ground, with her back turned to him and a gentle fist held out.
“Can she not just speak to it, like with the bear?” The liar asked in a hush so silent, it almost couldn’t hear him.
“That’s not an animal, Sujin.” The white-hair whispered back. She was right, this was no animal, it was a creature of promise. Something more than simple mortals. Brought to the world by dead gods. Carried on hell flame. It was an abomination. It was a punishment. It was a direwolf, and it hungered.
“Don’t look at it.” The huntress sharply barked. “Look at the ground.”
She was scared. She hid it well in her actions, but her voice quivered and shook. Any power she had held over the creature was lost in the shiver of her spine. She never dared to look at it, but that didn’t stop her approach. She neared with almost royal reverence. A fitting stance for a lesser creature. As she came within a few paces, she knelt. One knee in the dirt, her head rested against the other. Her outstretched hand still called for it, though her other interested it more. Oily black steel. It hadn’t seen the kind in an age. It didn’t know if that made her a friend, or a thief.
It made a silent and tentative step towards her, snarling all the way. It sniffed at her balled fist but didn’t trust the scent. There was something old on her, something much older than it. It snapped its jaws and gnashed its teeth. It made the young white-hair yelp and it looked as though she would charge to the huntress’ aid, until the contemptuous enchanter clawed her back and forced her into place against her will. It snapped again until it heard her. She sounded angry. She panted and huffed from beneath her bow. She sounded half ready to strike, but she remained still as a deadwood.
It would waste no more time on this panting cur. Its fangs fell to sprawling tendrils and readied to tear her limbs apart, then she moved. She moved much too quickly. She bound into the air in some kind of somersault before she landed on its spiked back with a violent crash.
Ash tore Ser Stabby from his sheath and wrapped the shaft around the beast’s neck. She knew she couldn’t kill it, but she could make it submit. She strangled the life from the creature as it bucked and thrashed around the forest. It tore between trees and dove over their spikes in an attempt to buck her, but she remained. Eventually, she managed to dig a boot into its neck while she pulled back on the spear. The bone-crunching snap brought the creature to the ground, but it wouldn’t kill it. She dragged it onto its back and wrapped her legs around its leg and her arms around its neck. The beast struggled for what felt like an eternity before she heard it, the most beautiful sound in the world. The beast sneezed.
A beaming smile cracked between her cheeks as she fell back from it and caught her breath on the ground.
The others saw the beast was paused and Sujin rushed forth with his axe in hand.
“No.” Ash sharply warned with a single bloody hand raised at him. He stopped in his tracks and Evara came to his back. He held her close behind him and made ready his axe.
Ashtik drew a warbled breath before rising to her jellied legs. The beast matched her. It rose and rose and rose until it towered over her, three times the size it had been. Ash signalled behind her back and Evara knew it meant to kneel. She dragged Sujin down with her and forced his head into a bow. Ash didn’t bow. She stood as tall as she could with her spear stretched out towards the beast. She locked her eyes to it and knew that she had won. The primordial apathy at the sight of her had faded. The ungodly wrath at the sight of Sujin had dissipated. Now, it was afraid. It was lesser. It was beaten.
“Kneel.” Ash spat through bloodied teeth. It snarled, it gnashed, it knelt. The beast bowed its head to her feet and sneezed again. She raised a subtly shaking hand and placed it on the beast’s brow. It responded well, it submitted, so she pressed on. She moved closer and held her head against its and asked, “what’s your name?”
The answer was muddled. It was jumbled. It was tongues and terror, a history of nightmares held in a single beast. She nearly fell back at hearing it, her lips trembled and refused to repeat what she had heard despite her mind’s orders.
“Ronald?”
The beast snarled and gnashed at its own leg. It tore it off and held it out for her. She realised she was supposed to take it. It was heavy and oozed with black viscous blood. It nodded at her, it wanted her to do something, so she threw the leg into the forest and he gleefully chased after it.
“Ash?” A concerned little voice whispered from the camp.
“It’s okay, just don’t get too close. His name is Ronald.” Ash smirked. The creature returned with its own, awfully humanlike, leg dangling from its amalgamated jaw.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
“Ronald?” Ev scoffed. The beast snarled at her mockery and she quickly threw her hands up in surrender.
“It's a lovely name,” Ev lied with a slight – though suppressed – snicker. It seemed to appease the beast. That, and the murderous glare Ashtik shot it the instant he snarled at Evara.
“Ronald, have you seen any Veytors?” Ash asked. He tilted his head at the question. “Grey men on horses.”
He made a noise halfway between a bark and the combined screams of every babe ever violently sundered from their mother’s grasp; then he scuffled off into the night.
“W-was that a no?” Ev shuddered.
“I have no idea.”
Once the adrenaline had worn off, and her cuts and scrapes had been healed, it came time for yet another round of questions.
“Ashtik...” Sujin innocently began.
“Oh, not now.” She snipped.
“Ash,” Evara said in a scolding tone.
“Right,” Ash sighed, “Sujin, I have spoken more than I am comfortable with for the time being. Please understand that this... is not a personal attack, nor is it the result of some withheld grudge and/or judgment. Right now, I would like nothing more than to disappear into the woods and meditate in silence but our current predicament... precludes my...” Ash trailed off as she tried to recall the rehearsed lines. “What was it?” She asked of Evara.
“But our current predicament precludes such from occurring. I ask...” Evara enthusiastically urged.
“I ask that you remain patient with me, and I will be glad to chat at another point.” Ash finished with a grunt.
“I- what was that?” Sujin half laughed.
“We rehearsed it so she wouldn’t come off as such a bitch to you.” Evara laughed. She tossed Ash a thick cloak and the great heretic buried herself in it, never to be seen by the world again.
“But if you want to talk, I’m always here.” Ev smiled.
“It's just, why was she so afraid of that beast?” Sujin asked.
“Did you not see it?” Evara scoffed.
“Well, yes it was rather scary looking but... I saw your sister smack a grizzly bear on the nose for so much as nipping at you. That thing wasn’t half the size, yet it had her genuinely shaken.”
“You’ve never seen what a direwolf can do, have you?”
“I- No, is it truly that awful?”
“In our native language, we call them Rakhos; soul-stealer. It is not an exaggeration to say there is no worse fate on the northern isles.”
“But it named itself Ronald?”
“She was joking... I think?” Ev guessed. “Look, I’m kinda tired from the whole, magically exploding thing. Do you think you could keep watch while I get some sleep?”
“Of course, I will wake you if any birds sing of villainous horizons.” He joked.
----------------------------------------
The galaxy unfolded above them. The ever-living stars; sprawled and beautiful. She tried to recall some of the constellations. There was the seamstress, the tower, the Golden tear, heaven’s belt. Those were the obvious ones, though. She traced the twin moons while they settled their distant paths. She recalled Evara telling her that if you travelled to the south end of the continent, you would go the entire night and never catch a glimpse of Terra, the larger twin. If you headed all the way south, straight to the ice desert, neither sister would show in the night sky. Ev had said that heaven’s belt would appear differently in the sky too. She couldn’t recall how so, but it didn’t matter. If her quest included marching through the snowy oblivion to the south then the gods truly had chosen the wrong Champion. She would quit her campaign before the first flake had fallen. She had her mother’s dark tone and her same inclination towards warm climates. Tenpi, that would be a nice place for her quest to take her. Sea-side tropical islands. Beautiful places and beautiful people. The villagers had often confused Miel for a Tenpic mae, but Ash knew that she had been born to the deserts of the Vamish belt to the east. Miel had never said exactly where, but she had told Evara a bedtime story once. A tale of the steel gulf at the eastern edge of the world. Ash was too busy stitching up her father’s wounds to listen in. She ought to ask Ev about it some time, the girl always loved to tell a tale; even if the tale wasn’t her own.
“Ashtik,” the enchanter whispered. She pretended to be asleep. If what he wanted was important, he would wake her. Otherwise, she hadn’t the will to suffer another conversation yet.
“Ashtik,” he repeated somewhat louder.
“Aye?”
“There’s a bird,” he said with a severe tone.
“It's a forest, Sujin. There's going to be a few birds.”
“Is it not one of yours?” He asked.
“Where is it?”
“The tree line.”
“So not nearby?”
“I suppose not,” he gulped. He made no attempt to retreat from her nest. She realised he wouldn’t settle until she made some show of talking to the bird. With all the power of the chosen one, Ashtik rolled over and looked out at the gently cooing sparrow.
“Oh no,” she tiredly groaned.
“Is it one of yours?”
“It’s a fucking sparrow,” she cried. “Ev wake up.”
“Is that bad? Is it not one of yours?”
“Sparrows don’t live in these woods. It’s one of his,” she seethed.
“His?”
“My patron,” Ash scoffed. She rolled onto her belly and pushed herself up. “Let’s call it an omen.”
“Y-your patron? You mean th-th- the forgotten Goden?” Sujin stammered. His wide eyes exploded beyond their sockets and clung to the little sparrow. “He’s watching us... He can see us?”
“Aye, he’s a bit of a perv.” She said just loud enough that the innocent little sparrow could hear.
“A- a perv? The Goden of sorrow and dreams?”
“Aye, where do you think you get all of those weird sex dreams from... Straight from his creepy little imagination!” Ash called out again.
A little grumble heralded the awakening of young Evara. She thrashed out a limp wrist and covered her head beneath the pack she had been using as a pillow.
“Why am I waking up to you two shouting about weird sex dreams?” She groaned.
“You need to get up, sis. I think something’s coming.”
“The Veytors?”
“Maybe.”
“At least if they kill me I get to finish my nap.”
“I’m the Champion of dreams. Go back to sleep and I'll give you terrible nightmares.” Ash smirked.
“You wouldn’t,” Ev groaned from beneath her pillow.
“The library is burning down and it’s all your fault.”
“No...”
“The Conclave ask for your advice before a massive hall of scholars and magicians, but oh no! You forgot all your lines and now you look like an idiot.”
Evara mumbled, “you’re an asshole,” but she did rise at last. The three stood shoulder to shoulder as they scanned the land around them for any sign of the Veytors.
The sign came at last. First, the sparrow made off; then, a hundred more flew at its back. They rode from the west. They must have been close by, close enough to feel. Ash knelt in the dirt and sunk her hand beneath the topsoil. Badom badom badom. She could feel them galloping. They didn’t canter or saunter, they sprinted and leapt towards her. It was as though they knew her exact location.
Ash whispered, “ten seconds,” and unslung Ser Stabby. Her finger stroked the little sigil that meant death to all before her. Sujin wrapped a leather strap around the handle of his double-headed axe and drew out a small bronze bar with the ignis charm engraved. Evara drew her bow and nocked an arrow, though she didn’t draw the string back yet. She waited until she could see her target.
“Ev, climb a tree,” Ash ordered, her eyes never swaying from the oncoming threat.
“On it,” Ev answered. It almost surprised Ash that she didn’t protest, but she was glad to skip the pointless argument. Evara mounted a tall oak to their backs and drew her arrow yet again.
Badom. Badom. Badom.
They would come into view soon. Six of them, all trained killers on horseback. How did they know where she was? The animals had been thorough in clearing her tracks. They must have had someone with a soul power like hers and Evara’s. Some sort of tracking ability. If that was so, they wouldn’t just march through this camp if Ash hid, they would search for her. If they knew she was hiding nearby, some might dismount.
“Sujin, hide!” She ordered.
“What? But you said-”
“Now!”
She dashed to a treetop while he rolled beneath a pile of spring leaves.
The first burst the ferns and stopped dead in the open air. A young man with the look of an old one. His skin was as clear and youthful as any man in his twenties could dream of, yet wrinkles wrought every angle of his face. His beard had grown prematurely grey, his eyes had faded to the muddy grey of frozen winter dirt. He snarled like a dog as he took in a deep sniff.
“She’s here!” He growled to the men at his back. Five riders, all wearing the same grey robes but for one. The last man, clearly the eldest, wore a black cloak with a red cross going through it over his robes. He was also the only clean-shaven man of the group.
“You’re sure?” The older man asked. His voice was as harsh as scraping teeth on slate. He wasn’t like the first man; he didn’t look nearly as rabid. His eyes were cold, calm. This was a duty to him, dire and dour but necessary.
“I’m sure. Magic that powerful is not soon forgotten.” The first man answered.
“Then fan out. Stick in twos and find them. Be wary, the reports must be wrong, this heretic is clearly a very powerful mage.” The elder ordered.
Three groups of two. The elder and the tracker headed towards Evara, two riders moved towards Sujin and the last two dismounted in Ash’s direction.
“Heretic!” The elder called. “Repent well, this needn’t come to blood.”
She had to act quickly before the tracker could sniff out Evara. Sujin was to go first, and first he went. An ear-splitting explosion rang through the forest to the north. The horses reared but the riders kept their reign.
“Dark Magus!” One of the veytors called out.
“Band together!” The elder ordered. They came to the centre of the clearing; it seemed a terrible decision to group together after an explosion until the men began chanting together.
“Pratis tame!” They called in chorus. “Pratis tame’ablas ignis’ablas Detros.”
“This will not work, heretic!” The elder called. “We have sealed the woods from your vile magics. You are defenceless, just give up before more harm is caused.”
Ash’s eyes caught Sujin’s from afar. She looked at him in hopes some rune would hold an easy victory, but she could see that his runes had failed under the Veytor’s ward. The look he returned her was not one of battle strategy or raw confidence in Ashtik’s abilities, but more so a look that simply said, “not it.”
She let loose a terrible sigh before she gracefully danced down to the ground. Two Veytors were injured from Sujin’s explosion which gave them a mild advantage, but the mist charms hadn’t worked. If the Veytors realised Ash wasn’t a mage, they would mount up and run her down. She had to do as much damage as she could before then.
She skulked through the shadows. She danced between moonbeams. Her feet barely graced the ground as she moved north to finish the injured men.
The first lay bloodied against a splintered tree Stump. Death would come easily to him, and his friend wouldn’t bode too much better on his own.
Ash played the role of the black heretic well. She stalked like a wicked predator up to the wounded man. It was a kill she had made a thousand times against trapped animals, only now her prey truly hated her. She could see it in his eyes as he drowned on his own blood. He wasn’t afraid of dying, he was offended that she would touch him. He was outraged that a filthy blasphemer would cover his mouth with her dirty metal hand. He was simply indignant that it was a liar's blade that blocked his airways and tore at his artery. Fortunately for him, he did not live long enough to see her draw his shortsword and fling it at his compatriot. She had no way to muffle the noise of his death. His death rattle was more so a vile curse. Screaming, screeching profanity as blood quickly filled his lungs.
There could be no more sneakery. She marched out from the brambles with her spear held tightly at her side. The sight of her, the blood-soaked heretic covered head to toe in uncanny black plate armour with a powerful, pulsating aura oozing from her gauntlet, it would have been enough to scare any man; but a fanatic would have seen the devil herself. She didn’t take the first step, instead, she raised her steel hand high. That alone was enough to startle one of the younger men. Then she shot her hand down to the ground, and a veytor lay dead in the mud. An arrow dug itself between his ribs, through his heart and out of his chest. The arrow came almost the whole way through but the shaft splintered and snagged within his chest. He didn’t even have time to wince in pain. The death was near instant. A pop and a fall.
The Veytors didn’t know where to look. The heretic, or the hidden archer. They realised how terrible their position was. They were fortified against magic, but that wasn’t a bloody staff in Ashtik’s hand.
The elder’s empty gaze didn’t dread her, unlike his subordinates. He placed a calm hand each on his two remaining comrades before he mildly ordered, “save her.”
The two young men charged headfirst with their blades drawn. They both had greater reach and larger builds, but they wielded shortswords. They might as well have swung kitchen knives against her steel-shafted spear. She hopped back from the first strike and ducked the next. She swung her spear low and clipped one man’s calf before she drove the spear into the ground and pushed herself through the air with it. She drew them away from the elder and towards Sujin’s hiding place. She dodged and weaved, blocked and parried as best as she could. She made it look effortless, but it wasn’t. Ash was acutely aware that a single mistake could spell defeat. The men were at a disadvantage but were skilled and ferocious. For each slash one missed, the other would arrive with two more. She had no chance to counter-strike them as every time one Veytor would leave an opening, the other would cover it. It must have been two dozen blows that buzzed past her before she came upon the pile of leaves, and the aid that lay beneath it.
He erupted out with a bellowing war cry. His axe slashed and tore through the air. The shock of it proved enough to knock one Veytor down, but the other quickly moved to help his comrade. Ash didn’t let him. She caught his blade with the serrations at the back of her spear and dragged the blade from his hand. She pulled herself closer to him and saw her dirk sparkle with a scarlet splash.
She rose to see the elder with his back turned. He wasn’t bothered by Ash but by the hidden archer.
The Sparrow-Knight made her slow way over to the old man while Sujin hacked and slashed at the retreating Veytor.
“You are the heretic, are you not?” The old man asked.
“If you say so.” Ash scoffed.
“But you are not the magician.”
“No.”
“Then who?”
She dragged her bloodied spear to his back. “You’ll never know,” she swore.
“Very well. It didn’t need to happen like this, heretic. We could have redeemed you.” He spoke as calmly as ever. Ash tried to match his cool tone, but the heat of battle blood drew her hatred and her wrath into her words.
“I don’t need your redemption, I just want to be left alone,” she spat.
He dodged with an impossible speed. The spear tip that had been at his back now fell limply through the air. She rounded her spear but it was of no use, he had gotten his blade to her belly. He slit it across her and stepped away as though the battle were over. The arrogant old man thought he could slice through plate metal; his slash didn’t even scuff the polish.
She swung stabby almost like a club, but he dodged away before it could contact. He dashed back to the attack, stabbing the point of his blade into each joint of her armour. She simply wasn’t fast enough to block him.
“I’m almost disappointed,” he goaded without a trace of emotion. “I heard you managed to strike White, yet another lie in your name; no doubt.”
She backed away from him, remembering the power that had defeated Aarov. The gauntlet. She looked down at her gifted power, then she looked up at the old man before her and noticed what stood behind him. A horde of sparrows watched her battle from within the trees.
Ashtik Sai-Weleg; a huntress, not a champion. She called upon the birds to fight at her side. Her flesh hand rose and the sparrows fluttered at her command. He noticed. He turned to face the gathering quarrel at his back, all but disregarding their mistress as he did. She seized the chance and struck out with a diving strike. He stepped aside and she came to a roll before him. It was part of the plan; the birds flew at her back. She raised her arms high and the hundred, hundred little sparrows launched themselves at the elder. He was fast, almost as fast as the Champion of White, but he couldn’t stop them all. One by one, they struck him at their highest speeds. Many died to his blades, many more died by their own attacks, but it was working.
The birds retreated behind her as she slashed her spear back. They became entranced by the tip of Ser Stabby and did as it did. Ash twirled the spear behind her back and the sparrows darted behind her. Then she ushered the blade on with a smooth-flowing slash. The birds followed along. She flourished, she twirled, she slashed, she stabbed. Each pass would have a dozen feathered missiles strike out at his head, his heart, his hand and his ‘vitals’.
After he was bloody and beaten, and the birds were too sparse to be of any more use, she released them and charged at the Veytor. She thrust out from above, then beneath and then she slashed out at his knees. No strike so much as threatened an uneven shave. Even disgruntled as he was, he managed to outpace her entirely.
He raised his bloody blade in his broken hand towards Ashtik and spat his final gravelled word, “Heretic!”
It was time for a finale. She aimed her spear over his shoulder, at the Veytor occupying Sujin. She stroked the sigil of the little sparrow and let the explosion carry the tip into the young Veytor’s shoulder. Ashtik wasted no time; she knew it had surprised the old man. She dashed past him and let the chain wrap around his neck. He struggled valiantly. She dropped down to the ground and held her entire weight into the chain. It wouldn’t be enough. He struggled too well and she knew she couldn’t hold it.
She was a spirit of vengeance, clad in the old iron. She was his master, and she needed help. He tore through the moonlit shadows and made for the Veytor’s throat. The old man feared him, but the old man couldn’t do anything about it while she held his throat. He clawed at the old man’s belly, tore him open and readied for the main meal.
He was starving and this man reeked of fear and righteousness.
Ronald growled and cackled as he crept up on the man. His main eyes liquified and drained off into the thousand other eyes which each sprouted like the shoots of a flower.
“You can’t... It’s a war crime...” The Veytor begged.
“My existence is a capital crime to your people. I’m already serving a death sentence,” Ash spat.
The thousand tendrils reached out and filled every pore on his face. Two large stalks – sprouted from Ronald’s eye sockets – suctioned themselves to the Veytor’s eyes. She could see it drain him. His body, his mind, his soul. All nought but food for this beast. She could see his lungs liquify first, his entire chest simply collapsed inwards. Then his muscles and fat. Finally, Ronald melted his bones to a broth and slurped them down. Only then did he take the mind. Direwolves kept their prey alive until the punishment was through in its entirety. After the feast was complete, he let the Veytor go, or what little of the Veytor remained. Namely, his skin and nails. A saggy bag of paper-thin, fatless flesh. It deflated and crumbled to the ground with a pathetic slap.
The little battle was won. The time came to take inventory. What had been lost?
“Ash...” a little voice cried. The shake in her voice tore a hole in Ash’s belly and her head ripped around to face her.
“What’s wrong?” Ash called back.
“It’s Sujin... He’s hurt.”
She crossed the battlefield and came to her knees before the enchanter. He lay with his belly half open and his armour splintered open.
“What happened?” Ash demanded. She got to work on his wound, holding down with enough pressure to stem the bloodless.
“It's my fault,” Ev cried. “He was struggling so I came to help him.” Ev pointed a hand out to the fallen Veytor. Ash hadn’t noticed how much damage he had taken when she hit him with her spear. The man was a pincushion – More arrowhead than man – but he didn’t matter anymore. They needed to help Sujin.
“Ev, I know it's a lot, but can you heal any of this?” Ash asked.
“I tried. The magic ward blocks soul magic too.”
“It hasn’t blocked me?” Ash noted.
“Good for you, now what do we do?”
“Right,” Ash considered. “Ronald!”
The beast galloped out from some velvet shadow and greeted the trio with a deep bow.
“Carry Sujin away from the ward.” She slowly ordered. The beast didn’t seem pleased with the idea of touching the enchanter unless he got to take a bite for his troubles, but Ash forced his compliance.
They followed closely behind as Sujin lay atop the wolf. It was not lost on Ash that he had been unresponsive, but she was sure that Evara could bring him back. At least, she hoped so.
The ward didn’t span far, especially not now that the casters were all dead. Ash cut away at his shirt and cleaned out the wound with some boiling water. Then Evara began. Gold flickered in steel, then it consumed her. Her golden glow, radiant as it was, was under her control. There was no risk of a runaway spell like with the flame, but that didn’t stop Ash from worrying. She kept at it for a long while. Too long. Evara should have passed out by this point, but she pressed on. Sweat poured from her brow. Her chest heaved as she gasped for each laborious breath. Her hands shook as violently as though she lifted some impossible weight from his bloody chest.
“Ev...” Ash worriedly grunted.
“I can hold it.” She growled back through gritted teeth.
“It's enough Ev, you have to stop.”
“Not until he- he wakes up.” She panted.
Her power was beyond anything she had ever been capable of. Ash saw Sujin’s flesh stitch itself back together before her. The blood still stained him, and he had lost much, but he wasn’t losing any more. It didn’t seem within her golden hands whether he would survive or not any longer. His fate lay at the feet of the gods.