Novels2Search
Conquest of Avalon
Florette XII: The One to Leave

Florette XII: The One to Leave

Florette XII: The One to Leave

Well, I’m in the panther’s den now. With an official duel, no one else could be involved in the fight. It was just Florette and Glaciel.

The ice spirit towered above her, striding over fathoms of ice in a single step as she readied her spear, almost twice as long as Florette was tall.

All the rest had to stay in the background distant, a cry muffled heard underwater. Levian, the battle, the sun… Even Fernan. I have to trust that he’s safe now. For once it was nice that he was so reluctant and cautious. I can trust him to stay out of trouble and keep himself alive.

Glaciel stretched upwards slightly, stretching into an enormous body about ten feet in height, her spear growing absurdly huge to match.

I can’t get within thirty feet of her without a risk of that thing gutting me.

Florette had the Blade of Khali out, even though she was better practiced with her thinner florete. With Glaciel’s abilities, nothing less would be able to do more than scratch her, and Florette had even less hope in the sort of prolonged battle of attrition that would necessitate.

Except even that felt absurd, because how was she supposed to hit Glaciel with it? It was the same problem as back in the castle, except this time she didn’t have any cover or surprise on her side.

But I’ve seen how she fights. All those elaborate twirls, fluid and graceful to be sure, but surely not practical even for a regenerating spirit.

She was winding up now, spinning her spear in an admittedly-cool circle around her body, passing it back and forth between her hands as she stared Florette down.

I hope this works.

As Glaciel charged forward, Florette kicked off the ground with her sodden boot, fading into Nocturne with the same breath. She slid to a stop and whirled back to face Glaciel, fading fully back into reality to avoid the pull to the other side.

The instant she was fully on earth, Glaciel whipped around to face her, somehow smoothly turning to her exact location as if she’d already known it despite Florette not making a sound.

Florette tensed, bracing herself for another charge. It looked like Glaciel could sense her through the ice, or something, which only made it more important to be ready.

I’m not even sure I reacted fast enough then, think I might have just read her body language and jumped ahead of time. Yet again, barely scrabbling by. If I live through all this I am going to have a very long conversation with Fernan about how to stop getting myself into this kinda shit.

Glaciel hadn’t moved yet, though, perhaps inviting Florette to make the next move. “Hiding in the dark, human? How cowardly.”

Like fuck I’m jumping into that. I’m not that reckless. “What are you waiting for?” Florette called out, hoping to get her talking. “I haven’t done a lot of these duels, but I didn’t think it was honorable to just sit around and wait.” You know, the way I’m doing more than you are.

“Honor,” Glaciel spat, swelling in size. “You carrion, harvesting Khali’s corpse for parts, you speak of honor?”

“Well, I didn’t make them. It’s on loan.” From the fucking King of Avalon, somehow. That really just got stranger the more she thought about it. He was dangerous, but trapped, like her own personal Khali handing out artifacts and giving lessons while being a complete fucking monster.

“If you seek to unbalance me with your sacrilege, you are mistaken as to my nature.”

“Sacrilege? I think it’s fitting. Khali was an egotistical evil spirit that wanted to conquer everything and leave the world in darkness. Now, in a way, she’s helping stop the next one.”

The icy wind beneath her words condensed, harder and deeper, as Glaciel readied her spear once more. “Khali had vision. She wished to overturn the old order, overthrow the Arbiters, change forever the role of the spirit.”

“She tried to exterminate practically all life on Terramonde. There’s not a more evil figure in all of history, ever. Not even you, though you’re clearly trying.”

Glaciel responded with a charge, dashing ridiculously fast to the point that Florette definitely would have been stabbed if she hadn’t faded into Nocturne. Her slide out of the way was barely over when Glaciel charged again, this time tearing the back of the cloak with her spear.

Fuck, I hope that doesn’t ruin it.

Each time, Florette moved closer to the water’s edge, trying to make out a boat amidst the gloom and snow, but there was nothing to see but white night. I just have to trust in things, and know that I’m helping either way.

Back towards the castle pit, she could see the Fox King forming up the remaining warriors into organized battle lines as sappers prepared entryways down to the castle. Lines of torches illuminated their formation surrounding the pit while the Hiverriens remained inside, either penned up or waiting for the duel to end.

But I’m getting distracted. Glaciel stood far in the distance, but when she swung her spear it still nearly cut Florette’s face, missing by inches at most.

“Agh, fuck!” Pulling her hand away from her forehead, splashes of red covered the grey. Or hit by inches, since I’m not lying on the ground with my head split in half right now.

Was Glaciel toying with her?

The ice spirit charged once more, but this time spun the spear as she moved so that the butt faced forward.

Florette jumped away again, using the Cloak of Nocturne along with the ring at her foot to get better distance, but she’d become too predictable, and Glaciel caught her out before she was fully divorced from the earth spirit. The blow struck her in the stomach, sending her sliding back across the ice.

At least I made it close to the water first.

“Hhhhh,” she wheezed, the wind knocked out of her chest.

“She did everything they asked, and yet they still turned on her the moment she started asking questions. At that point her choices were to conquer all or be destroyed, and she made the only choice that she could. Yet it was not enough, backed into a corner and undone by a human of all things.”

“Yuuuuhhh,” Florette tried again. You seem to regret not helping her. Or perhaps she had, though all of Khali’s followers were supposed to have been sent to Nocturne with her. “Why?” she managed, though her voice remained strained.

Glaciel towered above her, face without anger. “Because she was set up to fail.” Glaciel looked back to the water where Levian lurked, face twisting. “And by the time she realized, there was no alternative.”

Florette shook her head, failing to stifle a cough. “Why didn’t you help her?” she rasped. The mass extermination part clearly wasn’t an issue.

By way of response, Glaciel spun her spear above her head, then plunged it down towards Florette’s head tip-first.

Barely able to move, Florette simply faded into darkness again, even the brief contact threatening to pull her in. And it was only harder to re-emerge the second time, and harder still on the third.

Glaciel wasn’t bothering to change her attacks, content to wait Florette out. And it would work, too.

Well, I guess I just have to hope this is good enough. Florette reached beneath her cloak as the spirit of ice raised her spear a fourth time, readying the ignition on her pistol.

When Glaciel readied herself to stab downwards once again, Florette fired directly at her head, sending a shimmering spark of ice from her crown flying off into the night as it caught the torchlight from the Fox-King’s forces.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Glaciel began to laugh. “Was that your secret plan? My children have been fighting you for weeks. Icy tendrils of cold began to worm their way in as the Queen of Winter bent down and ripped the pistol from her hands, taking another one of her fingernails with it, then tossed it into the sea. “Even if your aim had been true, recovering the damage would be the work of seconds. This is no hidden surprise, merely a pathetic attempt to imitate one of Marie’s gambits.”

Florette bit her lip to get through the pain. Seconds, huh? This might actually work.

The Queen of Winter slammed her spear into the ice, sending a wave of vibrations through the surface. Her other hand closed around Florette’s throat. The spike of crown had already formed back into place, leaving the piercing tone in the air the only remaining sign the pistol had been used at all. “Disappointing. The few who dare challenge me to honorable duels are usually great warriors, like the Sundered Queen or Olwen Chevoleur. After all your bravado and violations of Khali, weidling her dismembered appendages at me, I had hoped you would put up more of a fight.”

“Not…” Florette coughed, feeling the chill soak into her throat as her neck went numb. “Not over yet.”

Though if things didn’t go right, it might be soon. It wouldn’t take much. If they hadn’t heard the signal, or hadn’t made it to the right side of the island in time, or Levian or the Hiverriens capsized the boat, or one of the Fox-King’s forces saw them and seized everything…

It’s out of my hands now, Florette realized as she inhaled painfully cold air, causing the grip around her neck to tighten.

“You seem ready to die, at least. When the legend of your arrogant folly spreads, I will note that you did meet your end with dignity, rather than the cowardice you displayed during the actual conflict. A hint of merit in a story otherwise lacking it. No true redemption, but…”

Meeting her eyes, Florette willed it all to be ready. If she strained her neck to look for the boat out in the dark water, at best she’d just be warning Glaciel.

I might not be a great warrior yet, but I’m not honorable either, and I’m not limited to telling the truth.

Suddenly, a deafening crack filled the air, then another, and another still.

Shards of ice flew from Glaciel’s body as it was pelted with balls of metal propelled from the stolen pistols, an enduring staccato that left Glaciel struggling to even stand, her body rippling and shattering.

Florette landed on her ringed foot once the Winter Queen’s grip loosened, panting for breath as she got her footing beneath her again.

At the water’s edge, the villagers were continuing their assault from the deck of their boat, swapping out pistols each time one fired. Michel the solicitor, Gaspard from Enquin, even the old drunk from Villechart. There were a few who’d lived in Guerron before the mountain villagers had ever arrived, but fallen in with them once they settled in. Everyone who’s willing to fight for this, or willing to die for anything. Fernan’s mom was keeping the rest safe back in the mountains, sheltering with warmth from the geckos.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

They hadn’t capsized. They hadn’t been killed or seized or marginalized. Real people taking up arms to make this possible.

And it falls to me to help them finish it.

“You might have been prepared for me,” Florette muttered as she picked the Blade of Khali up from the ice. “But not for them.”

To her credit, the Queen of Winter was remarkably alive for having just been filled with dozens of balls of metal, even managing to condense her size to better weather the attacks. Left as she was, she could probably pull herself together enough to retreat to her castle in a minute or so, and then they would be back where they started.

But she won’t get the chance. Wiggling along the ground trying not to get shot made for dangerous work, but the ring on her toe helped, as did the fact that most of the villagers were aiming up at her head, just as she’d had them practice.

Following the sabre form that the Fox-King had taught her, Florette sliced the edge of her blade through Glaciel’s ankle and cleanly separated her leg from her foot.

The titan of frost fell to her knees, so Florette sliced again and cut through her legs, Khali’s blade slicing unnaturally smoothly and cleanly. Or perhaps that’s the nature of Glaciel’s body. Either way, it left the spirit of ice lying face down, the sight of it enough to halt the gunfire from the ship.

And a good thing too, so there’s no risk of them hitting me.

Heavy in hand, the Blade of Khali plunged down once more, and then again, removing each of Glaciel’s arms just below the shoulder.

The scattered parts of her body did look like they were melting, slowly, as their corresponding joints on Glaciel’s body gradually began to grow back, but the pace was glacial, her reserves to heal clearly deeply exhausted after the rain of pistol fire. When Florette kicked them away from the rest of her with her shoeless foot, the melting slowed so much it practically stopped.

And if one toe was enough to give me a huge edge tonight, imagine what an arm could do. Or all of her. That was probably more advanced binding than Florette was ready for, but if she did it in small batches into many objects, that might get around the issue. And it would let me spread this power around, too. That was crucial with the pistols.

However, it hadn’t been enough for Glaciel, a collection of parts scattered across the ice as they desperately tried to reform their old shape. “Coward…” The harmony in her voice had cracked, no longer resonating the way it had before.

“Call it what you want, but your dear friend Marie Renart herself wrote in her memoir that some opponents must be defeated no matter the cost, no matter what honor is lost or what sacrifices you make. And in her case, the world didn’t hang in the balance.” And it ought never come to that, but if it’s between Hiverre and the entire rest of the world?

Her head shook back and forth once, so subtle it was almost unnoticeable. “I was a coward. Khali had the right of it, but if I joined her, I risked putting my entire nation before Soleil as a target. It was foolish, and futile.” Her voice was almost painful to hear, a scratchy, venomous, tone of anger and regret. “Flammare made the same proclamation anyway, though I remained neutral, and my hand was forced. Just as hers had been. Conquest or annihilation, with all options exhausted in between.”

“There’s always another option,” Florette said, though she wasn’t sure it was true. “And wiping out all life on Terramonde is never going to be the lesser evil.”

“You sound so sure. There is more to life than just Terramonde, girl. You’ve already skirted the edges of Khali’s new domain, and Miroirter could show you more, if he cared to do it. Khali knew… This division, greater and lesser, human and spirit, life and death, light and darkness… You speak it true, girl, for it is not inevitable. We can always choose another path, as I did with my court in Hiverre, or as she did in the wake of what she was asked to do.”

Florette tried to push past the thousands of questions she had to focus on the task at hand. There’s been enough deviations from the plan tonight.

“Regardless, I have no need to justify myself to you. Even now, my forces are…” She trailed off, prompting Florette to look back towards the castle in the pit.

Without the spirits interfering, the Fox-King’s forces looked to be occupying the upper floors of the castle, the fox banner flying from the tallest remaining tower, half-melted and crumbled though it was. With the time and space to mount them, the fortifications above were mounted with countless lanterns, leaving it plain to see.

“Levian didn’t promise anything either,” Florette realized, taking in the sight. “If he were just holding back for the duel, he’d be free to act now. And yet he isn’t. He’s gone.” Honestly, it’s surprising he has the restraint to cut and run when the battle’s lost. Although, his commitment to Glaciel’s aims always had been dubious, setting her up to fall to Flammare before the humans had any chance of driving her away. Perhaps he simply got what he wanted.

“Then it truly is over…” A mournful wind whistled through the spikes of her crown, layering behind the words she spoke. “Flammare will stop at nothing to wipe all of my descendants out. He has nothing to stop him, now. And soon, the power of the sun.”

“Maybe he’ll be satisfied with just you dead?” Florette said, though she didn’t really believe it. Not after the way he spoke at that spirit summit. “Fernan and I will try to stop him, in any case.”

Clearly, judging by her lack of reaction, Glaciel took no comfort from those words.

If sacrifices are wrong because they turn human lives into grist to empower the execution, how would this be any different? So many justifications came to mind, but all of them rested on that same foundation. Better outcomes through more despicable means, grinding people down to serve your ends…

Camille was starting to realize it, back in Malin. She’d probably be salivating at the opportunity to throw my own words back in my face.

“They still matter,” Florette had told her. “They still count. Even the monsters, they’re still people. Whether or not they were going to die anyway, whether or not they deserved it, whether or not someone would have done it in your place.”

That had been under the light of the sun, before these dark days had begun. Before the world itself had become imperiled.

Yet when Florette raised her blade and looked Glaciel in the eyes, Cassia Arion’s face stared back.

This is different, though. This one deserves it. And no one’s in a position to do anything except me.

“Spirits can’t lie,” Florette said, still brandishing the blade above Glaciel’s head. “So if you make a promise, you’re bound to it forever. Enduring long past the circumstances you made it in.”

“If you seek to make me beg for life in exchange for my service, I assure you, death is preferable.”

“No, it’s not that.” Trying to make her decision, Florette nodded once to herself, not caring whether the wounded spirit thought it was strange. “You’ve lost, today. If I so choose, you’ll die for it, too.” If I make you swear an oath to leave humanity alone, to never wage war outside your borders, would you accept? Are you even capable of that?

She wouldn’t be hesitating at all if not for the way Corro had talked to her, almost convincing her to drop it even before she lost.

But was it fair to the Hiverriens who’d already died to let their leader live because she could better save them from Flammare? Why should Glaciel get that privilege when none of her followers did? It was just like when Captain Verrou called on them to spare anyone who looked noble to use for ransom, while the rest were fair game to kill. Regular people thrown onto the altar as a sacrifice for their ‘betters’ once again.

And there was a chance Flammare wouldn’t even be the next sun. A slim one, to be sure, but killing Glaciel here in Gézarde’s name would at least give him a chance. Though I’m not as confident as Fernan that he’ll be that much better.

And what if killing Glaciel is the right thing to do, but it still won’t be good for me to do it? Do I want another phantom haunting me, another face for the Fallen to taunt me with my every mistake? But isn’t it selfish to care about that more than keeping everyone safe?

It just… Fuck!

Slow as her healing was, Glaciel’s stumps were already about halfway grown out, perhaps a minute off from her being able to move again. And do you doubt for a second that she’ll kill you the second she can?

This was the moment the whole night had been leading to, the opportunity to deal with Queen Glaciel once and for all, one way or another. And—

Florette felt a burning heat above her head, and ducked just in time to avoid a ball of red flaming slamming into the ice just ahead of her.

Whipping her head back, she saw Laura Bougitte alight on the ice behind them, Fernan following a second later with a trail of green. Above them, Flammare cast his light down from the sky, spreading warmth and red over the entire island.

Why are you back here? You almost died already. And more importantly,what the fuck were you thinking, bringing them?

“Need some help?” Laura asked, as if she were doing some enormous favor.

No, I had it handled. And now you and Flammare showing up is going to ruin half the reason we did this, giving you credit for our work.

Fernan seemed to realize it too, with how guilty he was looking. If you had just fucking trusted me, Fernan… “We needed to put an end to the fighting. I know it’s not ideal, but—”

“Later,” she barked. “We just defeated Glaciel, but now we need to—”

Though she only looked about four feet tall, Glaciel’s limbs had regrown enough to let her start crawling, an opportunity she hadn’t wasted.

Fernan and Laura didn’t seem to have noticed, which meant… what, exactly? What am I supposed to do?

From high above, Flammare let out a spherical blast of red flame around him, nearly large enough to touch the ground before it stopped, and began condensing back in on itself. With a flick of his metal wings, the red-hot ball plunged into the crumbling ice castle and melted all that remained. Along with no shortage of our warriors, I bet. Asshole.

“Wait here and watch the water,” she ordered Fernan and Laura, readying herself for another slide across the ice. “Levian is still out there, and we need people to guard the coastline.”

Fernan nodded swiftly, which only made her feel more terrible for the lie, but it was a temporary thing, only because Flammare’s sage was standing right next to them. If you don’t want to get lied to, don’t stand next to the sage of a murderous asshole. Don’t bring them here to take credit after the battle’s over, either.

“Wait, but what are you—” The rest of Laura’s question was swallowed by the wind as Florette dashed away, burning Glaciel’s ring down to nothing as she caught up with the spirit herself.

She leveled the Blade of Khali at the crawling form as she approached. “Wait, Glaciel! If you swear an oath not to harm humans again, never to wage wars of aggression, if you—”

“If I do this, what? You’ll let me live?” She shook her head as she rose to a standing position, her body more or less back to its proper shape save the missing toe. “It’s over, girl. All that remains is preparing Hiverre for the end and ensuring a fight for the unending legends. If Flammare spots me now, I am dead where I stand.”

“But—”

Florette cut herself off as Glaciel jumped into the pit housing the steaming remnants of her castle, exploded and flooded and incinerated over the course of hours, with nary a structure standing.

But that was still where most of her people were.

Florette spent the next few minutes helping people out of the hole, trying to distract herself from the fact that she’d held victory in her hands, so close, only to be undercut by a spirit that had contributed nothing.

Cast in dim red light from Flammare, a smaller chunk of the island was floating away, crowded with Hiverriens and no doubt Glaciel, retreating back to their home.

If someone pointed it out to him, Flammare would no doubt annihilate it in moments. But who says we have to?

Returning to her work, it wasn’t long before Fernan and Laura joined her again, Levian clearly having remained absent. The Fox-King’s forces were mostly back above too, having already taken captive any remaining Hiverriens trapped on this side of the ice.

And, of course, Flammare swooped down with his metal wings right after. “And so fell Glaciel suffers defeat, a thorough victory for us and light over the monstrous fool who thought to fight. Though she survived the day and lived to flee, her time will come with haste, and all her spawn. Hiverre must count the days remaining there, for once I have taken my seat, I swear, this queen and her abominations shall, each and every one of them, expire.”

Florette couldn’t help but glare at Fernan, still angry despite her efforts to cool off. He’d obviously been trying to help, calling in the cavalry to save the day when it looked like all was lost. If things had been more dire, maybe this would have been the lesser evil rather than a total failure. But as it was?

You’re one to talk to me about acting recklessly. Being friendly doesn’t mean you’re always doing the right thing.

And now an entire nation would pay the price. You didn’t know, Fernan. I understand that. But does it even matter?