She wept.

Hot salty tears fell down blood-stained cheeks as she knelt over the lifeless body lying in a puddle of red. Another soul claimed by violence and death, never to see the light of day again. 

The whole field was blanketed with them, bodies upon bodies covering every inch of green grass in sight. Some fae, with their wings either broken or reaching towards the sky as if trying to escape death— others she had never seen before. A swirling storm of white and black floated like a cloud over everything. If one were to look hard enough they’d see each and every individual feather that floated on dying breaths and screams of battle. 

The putrid smell of iron and sweat was thick in the air around them; tainted by the smell of blood and rotting flesh. Anyone unable to stand such a smell had already emptied their stomachs — only adding to the stench. 

Colors of silver and nightshade crashed and danced together accompanying the sound of metal scraping against metal. Feet trying to avoid the bodies beneath them as they struggled to hold on to life themselves. It had been a day full of death and bloodshed, so many had been lost on both sides of the fight. She wasn’t even sure who was winning this damned war. 

It didn’t feel like it mattered anymore.

This field used to be peaceful. Lush and green with the splotches of wildflowers painted delicately throughout. It had been a place of refuge from the hustle and bustle of the castle. A place she could breath deep and relax under the shade of the great oak tree that stood proudly on top of its hill. The same hill she now stood on— which had held the last inch of green earth untouched by death. Until now. 

She suddenly felt as if she could hear the heartbeat of every soldier fighting for her—every second that passed that sound was growing weak. She could sense both the heavy burden of loss and fear those that dying felt, and the rushing force of adrenaline coursing through the living. 

Then the sound of the world screaming in agony over the death and destruction it was witnessing covered all else with a deafening screech… the sound growing seemingly louder as her own voice joined the cry. 

This death, this body torn apart in front of her, wasn't just another soldier slain in the name of all things good. Nor was it a member of the court, one who had pledged their lives in defending her; a death simply sacrificed for the cause she was fighting for. No— this death was the one that shattered her completely. Tearing her soul open so she was raw and vulnerable—leaving all her senses exposed to the world around her.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

Everything—from the past few months to this moment—crashed down on her like a tidal wave. 

Somehow, despite being blinded by tears, her subconscious saw movement out of the corner of her eye and almost without thinking she lifted her sword with both hands — blocking what would have been a fatal blow to her head.

The sun fell dangerously low, staining the sky with a red almost as dark as the world around her. It was now or never.

Standing on trembling legs she looked upon her opponent whose face she would never fail to recognize. His face had terrorized her in nightmares and would for years to come. It was because of him she was suffering such pain and loss. He was the reason they were in this war in the first place, and his hands dripped with the blood of the one she loved more than life itself.

“How could you?” Her scream echoed over the sounds of battle, and she lifted her arms to blindly swing her sword at his chest. She was sloppy and he easily maneuvered out of the way leaving her to trip forward towards him. She quickly regained her footing and rolled forward back onto her feet, spinning around to face him again. Fire burned in her eyes with the anger that raged in her soul. 

He laughed as if mocking the fury she didn’t bother to mask, “You continue to ask me that, love; but you have not yet answered my question.” His dark figure pushed her forward, using the bunt of his sword against her own as leverage; until she was pinned to the great oak tree which still stood strong amongst all the destruction. He leaned close as if to tell her a forbidden secret. Their swords kept a few spare inches of space between them but she could still smell the blood in his breath. “I was never someone you could trust; but… deep down... you knew that all along, didn’t you?” His eyes bore into hers fiercely, she tried to gather the strength to fight back but she could barely find the words she wanted to shout at him. 

Tears were still falling down her face, faster now, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get them to stop. Her lungs threatened to give in to the sob that was thick in the back of her throat. 

As if pulling a toy out of a child’s hands, he took her sword. Pulling it loose from her fingertips. Then without much effort he pushed her to the side, her body so weak it slid across the slick ground until she was next to the body that broke her. She didn’t even attempt to stand again. 

His laugh caused the ground around them to tremble in anticipation, her body was now shaking as she sobbed silently. He lifted her obsidian sword above his own head; her soul practically craved the release of death. 

“I will give you one last chance.” His deep voice rumbled through her, sending a shiver down her spine. She pulled her knees close to her chest, the soft ground molding around her body. 

“All you have to do is say yes.”