“Pathetic. I’ve seen ten-year-olds hit harder than that.”
Gabriela kept her eyes on the training dummy lying toppled a good seven meters from her, trying not to let the insult upset her. She’d hit the straw-stuffed mannequin with everything she had, driving her wooden sword into its torso with every ounce of strength that her body possessed, but even her all wasn’t enough to impress her instructor. Swordmaster Yrijan Pareketh glared at her from across the large stone training room, his grey eyes filled with disdain as if having to teach her how to fight was the most insulting and demeaning thing he’d ever had to do. It felt to her like he’d decided she wasn’t worth his time from the moment he’d met her for the first time just an hour ago.
Though standing just a few centimeters taller than Gabriela, the broad-shouldered, grey-haired, battle-scarred old warrior’s presence intimidated her. When she looked into his eyes, she felt like a tiny mouse huddling before a hungry cat, trapped with no way out but death. She had no doubt that the man could kill her in a hundred different ways should he so choose. How many people had he killed in battle before retiring a few years back? Gabby didn’t know the answer, but she was sure it numbered in the hundreds, if not thousands.
“Is that really all that you can muster?” he growled in disgust. “Any Feeler worth a damn can do that with one arm.”
“Swordmaster Pareketh,” Chitra chimed in from her spot by the doorway, “Champion Carreno has been chosen by the Emperor himself to be the Champion in this coming conquest. I must insist that you use her proper title and give her the respect that she is entitled.”
The man spat on the floor. “Bah! Don’t talk to me about respect!” he ground out through clenched teeth, his ire now directed at the tall, beautiful Batranala. “Champion Valentus was my best friend, and I’ll go to my grave before I dishonor his memory by using that title on a nobody just because the Emperor says so!” He turned back to Gabriela. “You want respect, girl?! Earn it! Show me you can hit with more force than a gentle breeze! Now pick the dummy up and do it again!”
Gabby rushed over to the straw mannequin and propped it upright again. Normally the dummy would be planted in the ground, but it seemed that the old man wanted to get a baseline for her striking power and was using the distance she knocked it as his way of measuring.
Taking a deep breath, Gabriela tightened her grip on the practice sword. The dense wooden weapon carried a serious weight that would have given the old Gabriela some difficulty, but that had changed since her arrival on Scyria. Now she could lift and swing the glorified stick with general ease. After a little testing on her own the day before, Gabby believed herself to be about three times stronger and faster than before, as well as having significantly increased endurance. It made her feel like an Olympic athlete, which had felt pretty darn great until Mr. Gruff had come along and stomped all over her vibes.
Setting her body into the only stance that Swordmaster Pareketh had taught her so far, Gabby swung her sword again, once more performing to the best of her ability the horizontal slash that her teacher had shown her. The wood plowed into the dummy’s chest, throwing the straw and fabric object a good eight meters. Something told her that wasn’t going to be good enough, and the old man’s sigh only confirmed her suspicions.
“Disappointing,” he said as he walked over to a nearby barrel filled with wooden swords and pulled one out. “Let’s move on to other areas instead. Take your stance.” He began to approach her.
“Hey! What the-”
Before Gabriela could even finish her question, the instructor bent his knees, lowering himself into a half-crouch, and launched himself towards her faster than her mind could comprehend. Desperately, she brought her sword up in a vain attempt to protect herself, but it made no difference. His sword slammed into her gut, violently forcing the air from her lungs and throwing her back. She twisted in the air, doubling over from the pain, and landed on her side, rolling over several times before coming to a stop. Her body wracked with spasms, she vomited her breakfast all over herself and the floor.
What? Why? Why had he attacked her? How was he so fast?
“Get up.”
Gabriela hacked and wheezed, but managed to push herself to her feet. Her throat and nostrils burned as the last vestiges of her stomach’s contents dripped from her nose. Her hands and arms shook, but she raised her sword in front of her as best she could.
“You have a little grit, I’ll give you that. But that’s not enough. Nowhere near enough.” He entered that half-crouch again, sending panic and fear arcing through her. “Dodge, block, or counter. Again!”
This time she was expecting it, so her mind was able to just barely process the sight of him speeding towards her. She threw herself back, but her actions were not fast enough. The tip of his blunt wooden sword dug into her torso just beneath her ribs as it swept by, ripping a rough, bloody gash across her chest. Before she could even register the pain, he was in front of her again, his eye shining with malice. She hurriedly brought her sword up to block another strike, but it was like trying to stop a tidal wave with a bucket. His weapon seemed to flow around and through hers like it was made of water before impacting into her side. She cried out as she was tossed across the room again and landed heavily on her back. It hurt to breathe now. It felt like several of her ribs were cracked from the blow.
“Weak. Wholly unsuitable to be a Champion,” the man said, his voice cold. “On the battlefield, you would not last a moment and everyone relying on you would soon share your fate. Better to end you here, where you can’t hurt anyone else with your failure.”
As Gabriela struggled to one knee, panting as she tried to push through the pain, she looked up to find the swordmaster just a step away, his eyes filled with murderous intent. Try as she did, she could not find even a hint of mercy within his stare. He was serious, she realized. He didn’t care for her life one bit.
A primordial fear filled her now, something far stronger and baser than what had been going through her since the training started. It was something instinctual, the deep buried terror of a cornered prey. That fear told her to run, to get away at any cost. Desperately she looked about for some way out, for somewhere to run, but there were none. Without her realizing it, he’d backed her into a corner, trapped her with nowhere to go. Her terror intensified even more, but deep down, something else responded to that fear. A power, an energy... she wasn’t sure what to call it. Whatever it was, it burst forth from somewhere deep inside her, flooding her body with a boundless strength. If the only way out was through this man, then that was what she’d do.
He charged again, but this time, she rose from her knee to meet him, swinging her sword at her tormentor with the desperation of a cornered animal. Her form was atrocious, her action so easily readable that a blind man could see it coming from a mile away. With a snort, Swordmaster Pareketh took a step back, getting himself just centimeters out of her range. It didn’t matter.
A thunderous boom echoed off the stone walls and Pareketh flew a good ten meters through air before tucking into a roll as he hit the ground, coming to rest in a crouch. Blood flowed from his body in multiple places where small shards of wood had penetrated his skin. Gabby gawked at the sight. Had she done that? She brought her sword up to her eyes, only to find that the two thirds farthest from the handle no longer existed, a jagged edge where the wood used to be.
The warrior rose to his feet, slowly pulling the splinters from his arms, chest, and face with one hand as if he didn’t even feel them while sticking his other hand over his ear. His features had softened somewhat. No longer did she see the disdain that he'd displayed before. Now there was a hint of satisfaction, of acceptance. He still wasn't smiling, though.
“There might be hope for you after all,” he said. His one hand went to his left ear and found blood on his fingers. “Figure out how to access that strength at all times. Every swing, every strike, needs to be like that last one. I expect you to have it under control by tomorrow’s session.” He began to head towards the door.
“Wait, but-!” Heedless of her protests, the instructor left the training hall and did not return. Gabriela let out a sigh. Now what was she supposed to do? Tossing the broken sword to the side, she grabbed another one from the barrel by the door. She might as well try to do what Swordmaster Pareketh instructed. She coughed, the pain in her ribs and elsewhere starting to gain purchase in her mind as the adrenaline began to wear off.
“That was an incredible swing, Gabby! I’ve never seen anything like it!” Chitra said, a celebratory smile on her face. Even so, she said it while backing away with her hand pinching her nose. “That being said, I think it would be best for a healer to look at you before you do anything else. Also you need a bath, immediately. We cannot have the Champion walking around covered in her own sick.”
“Not yet,” Gabriela replied.
Gabby’s awareness of that feeling she’d had before was quickly fading. Afraid that she’d lose it for good, she’d decided to power through the pain as much as she could while she still had a glimmer of that experience in her mind. Taking her stance, she swung at a nearby training dummy, her ribs crying out in protest, but the strength from before was nowhere to be found.
There had to be some sort of secret. Where had that strength come from? Had it been born from her desperate terror? Simply survival instinct and adrenaline?
But wait... there had been one other time when she’d felt that power—the time she’d gripped a man’s shoulders so hard she'd basically torn his arms off. She’d been highly worked up, yes, but she hadn’t feared for her life at the time. Reluctantly, Gabby tried to recall just what had been going through her mind at the time of that regrettable incident. Back then she’d felt an intense need to find her children. Since then she’d tried her best to tamp down that urge, as it would only drive her crazy given how powerless she was to do anything about it, but maybe it was what she needed.
Closing her eyes, she thought of her babies, remembering their small, adorable smiles. She thought of their giggles and laughs when she played with them, of their serene faces as they slept soundly. Her heart was filled with longing and the aching desire to see her precious kids once more, but that was all. No power.
But she hadn’t been thinking about how much she loved them back then. She’d been thinking about how they were in peril—a peril that was still all too real. Maybe they were in the hands of an uncaring orphanage, being neglected and abused. Maybe they’d never been found at all, their starving bodies slowly beginning to rot in the hot apartment. No! She couldn’t let that happen!
A fire burst into flame inside her and her body was infused with the power that she sought. She swung her sword with all her might and once more the sound of thunder reverberated throughout the room. Wooden splinters flew through the air, scattering about the nearby area. But to her dismay, the power began to ebb almost immediately. Quickly she imagined her babies trapped under the rubble of their apartment building after another terrible earthquake hit Mexico City. The thoughts fanned the flames within her and the portion of strength that had left came rushing back.
Several minutes and twenty broken swords later, Gabriela believed she’d gotten the hang of it. Now the strength came when she called for it and receded only when she allowed. Controlling it was fairly simple, though by no means pleasant. To summon it initially, she had to think about all the horrible possible fates that her children faced. Then all she had to do was keep that maddening feeling of desperate despair locked deep in her heart, eating away at her soul, for as long as she needed that power.
When she’d described it all to Chitra afterwards in the bath, the Batranala couldn't help but remark between at how terrible she found the ordeal, but Gabriela had already agreed to the bargain. If she needed to torture herself each time with the thoughts of her loved ones dying, or worse, to summon the strength needed to get back to them, that was a price she was willing to pay any day of the week.
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“How can I help you?” the elderly woman asked, her head not even looking up from the large book on her desk.
“This should answer your question,” Swordmaster Pareketh replied, handing the woman a sealed roll of parchment.
Inspecting the seal for a moment, the woman broke the wax and unrolled it. After a moment her eyebrows shot up and she seemed to suddenly be paying more attention to their conversation. Looking back down at the book she mumbled to herself as she flipped some more pages. Suddenly her fingers came to a stop and she peered at the lines of ink that seemed illegible to anybody but her.
“Vault Seven. Alcove two, item twelve,” she told a man standing at attention nearby. The man nodded and began to walk off, Swordmaster Pareketh and Gabriela close behind with two other guards taking up the rear.
“Shouldn't we be training?” Gabby asked her instructor. She didn’t like the idea of wasting their training time. The lessons, while brutal, at least left her with the feeling that she was getting closer to getting home, one small step at a time. It helped keep her going.
“After you destroyed that last masterwork sword, I asked the Emperor if he could commission a sword that you wouldn’t be able to break," he responded. While the man remained mostly gruff and surly, he’d warmed up to her a little since the first several days. "He told me to come here instead.”
"Here, as in Vault Seven? What's so special about it?"
“That’s where we keep all the most interesting items, the truly special ones, or so I hear. Never been inside myself.”
They walked in relative silence down the long, wide corridor, every so often passing by a number carved into the wall. One, two, three, four... eventually they stopped beside a seven the height of a man. Gabriela looked around, puzzled. All she could see, on either side, was more smooth stone. The only difference between the vaults and the rest of the palace was that the rock comprising the vault had a different pattern, indicating that it was a different type of rock.
“Where’s the door?” she asked.
“Doors are far too insecure,” their guide replied, facing the wall himself. His eyes took on a look of concentration and the stone wall began to flow to the side, slowly, like half-melted wax. Gabby nearly fell on her rear in shock at the sight. Chitra had taught her about Observers, but she hadn’t really understood until just then what Observers really were. They were wizards!
Gabby gaped at the sight of the laws of nature being twisted before her very eyes. The stone gradually pulled apart, forming an indentation wide and tall enough for a person to fit inside. Then it began to sink into the wall, slowly gaining depth—too slowly for Gabby’s sake. Several minutes later, the indentation had grown to be only a half meter deep, with no sign of the other side.
“How much longer is this going to take?” she complained, the wonder of magic having already worn off. “I have things I need to do.”
“Granite requires far more energy to manipulate than other stone because of how dense it is,” the guide-turned-wizard explained, turning away from the wall for a moment. “Opening a vault like this takes a lot of effort. Now please, no more interruptions or you will have to wait even longer.” He turned back and began concentrating again.
After what had to have been at least twenty minutes, a full passageway now existed into the vault, cutting all the way through the five-meter-thick wall. Immediately the guards tagging along took positions beside the tunnel, their eyes wary. The wizard motioned for them to follow as he strolled through the newly-created arch. “Welcome to Vault Seven,” he said with a wry smile. “Please stay with me and keep your hands to yourselves. I will be searching you when we leave.”
Upon passing through the tunnel, it was time for Gabby to gawk once more. A cornucopia of glittering wealth assaulted her eyes, hundreds of different items twinkling in the torchlight. She saw ornate golden crowns on pedestals beside gemstones the size of her fist. She saw a manner of things of all shapes and sizes, their nature and function unintelligible to her.
A clear path ran through the middle of the collection, and the trio walked down it slowly, the guide leading the way. Gabby kept looking about as they went, taking in the sights. A little ways in, she spotted, to her surprise, the three Eyes of Pirath that had been prominently featured in the Emperor’s demonstration. After a moment of thought, however, it made sense; what better place for relics so valuable?
Beside the Eyes was something that made far less sense: a massive crystal, easily ten meters wide, just lying there on the floor. The crystal didn’t look very special. It didn’t have the translucent beauty of a gemstone. It didn’t glow like the crystals in the ruins beneath the palace. It just sat there, being huge and nothing more.
“Here we are,” the guide said, pulling her attention forward. She heard her instructor let out a sharp gasp and turned following his and the guide’s gaze to find the most absurd, amazing sword she’d ever seen or imagined. The blade was comically large, literally taller than her full height and nearly half a meter wide. Made entirely out of a single piece of black crystal darker than the darkest night, from the tip to the handle, the massive two-handed sword seemed to draw her gaze into its inky blackness, pulling her in slowly. Only a dull sheen informed her that the sword was not, in fact, absorbing all the light that touched it.
“Do you understand the significance of this?” Swordmaster Pareketh asked, his face deadly serious. Uh-oh. Nothing good ever happened when he made that face.
“No. What is it?”
“This is no mere sword. This is the Sword of Eternity, the most legendary weapon in Ubran history. They say it’s older than the country itself, and only a handful of the greatest sword fighters have ever been able to wield it. The last was Champion Estan, over two hundred years ago. The Emperor is placing an unheard-of amount of belief in you. Are you willing to accept his faith?”
“I am,” Gabby replied without a moment of hesitation. She strode over to the blade and hefted it into the air with ease. It was heavy, but nowhere near as heavy as she would have guessed. She smiled as her fingers curled around the long handle, its diameter just right for her hands.
“I am not,” her instructor responded, his face still grim. “You are the rawest recruit I have ever taught, a newborn fawn barely able to stand on your own. Your form is nonexistent, your decision-making in combat simplistic and childish, your ability to adjust to your opponent nearly comical. The Sword of Eternity deserves a master as sublime as itself, and you are most definitely no such thing.”
“But isn't this the only thing I can use?” Gabriela protested. “You said it yourself, I break everything else!”
“Indeed. Which is why we must mold you into a warrior worthy of this blade. The real training begins now.”
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Gabriela clung desperately to the vekkel’s saddle, trying her best to stay atop it as it hurtled through the grasslands of southwest Droaja. Never in her life had she imagined she’d one day find herself atop what was best described as a carnivorous reptilian ostrich as it sped through the plains at about a hundred kilometers an hour, but here she was on her way to the Droajan capital of Istrouburn, just hoping to not fall to her death.
It was still better than training. She spared a glance at her instructor, riding his vekkel ahead of her with a confident ease. He and Chitra had come along for the trip, each for different reasons—Chitra because she remained Gabby’s caretaker, Swordmaster Pareketh because he apparently hated Gabby’s very existence. That was the only possible explanation for the nightmare that was the last few weeks. Gabriela had barely left the training hall since receiving the Blade of Eternity. If she wasn’t sleeping, eating, or going to the bathroom, then she could be found in that training hall, acquiring all manner of bumps, bruises, and lacerations while pushing herself to her limits and beyond. The man showed her no mercy, loading her up with a training regimen that would surely have killed anybody else. Only her enhanced physique and unwavering determination kept her going.
Eight days ago the trio had departed Ubra, the Empire’s capital and largest city, heading south as quickly as possible in order to be present for the fall of Istrouburn. Normally the trip would have taken far longer thanks to the limited stamina of a vekkel; the beasts were meant far more for shorter bursts of speed than a full day of nonstop sprinting. However, they were able to overcome this limitation thanks to the Emperor pulling some strings. Every few hours they would come across a squad of soldiers waiting in the wilderness specifically for them with fresh vekkels, whereupon they would swap their steeds and continue on their way. The efficiency with which the Empire coordinated these groups greatly impressed Gabriela. They were always where they were supposed to be when the three arrived, allowing the trio to travel relatively uninterrupted even in what could be considered “enemy territory”.
As they came to the top of a bluff, Gabby got her first long view of the terrain ahead in a while. They were nearly there. Off in the distance she could see a city in the mid-morning light, one far less impressive than Ubra. Surrounding it were tiny specks that she took to be a mass of people, encircling the city like a swarm ants around a dead rat. If the number of ants was anything to go by, the rat would be nothing but bones quite soon.
Soon they had closed the distance enough that the swarm of ants had become a sea of people. A patrol of vekkel riders pulled up alongside them, saluting the Swordmaster. “Sir, General Moiras welcomes you and requests that you report to him immediately,” the soldier leading the group said.
Swordmaster Pareketh simply nodded and said “Lead the way.” The patrol did just that, leading them into the camp. Gabriela couldn’t help but notice all the stares that went their way as they passed. A few stared at her sword, fully encased in a custom sheath made from garoph leather and strapped to her back so as not to cause any trouble during the trip. Others stared at Chitra, taking in her beauty. But most of the stare went towards her teacher. There was an awe in those stares, like the look of a fan meeting their favorite athlete in person for the first time. The Emperor had said he would task his greatest sword fighting teacher, but was he more than that? She wondered about his possible past as they approached a series of larger tents and, after a quick conversation with the guards, were waved inside.
“Yrijan, you old bastard!” a happy voice boomed as they entered. “I haven’t seen you in ages! How’s retirement treating you?” Gabby stepped back as a large, burly man, his face more beard than anything else, swept in front of her and smothered her teacher in an enthusiastic hug.
“Rutgar! It’s been too long!” Yrijan Pareketh responded with a laugh, giving the larger man a series of hearty slaps on the back until the larger man let go. The swordsman turned back to Gabby, his face showing the first genuine smile she’d ever seen from him. “This is General Rutgar Moiras, an old friend of mine from back during the Ofrax campaign. Never drink with this man if you intend to accomplish anything the next day.” The general let out a loud guffaw. “Rutgar, this is Gabriela Carreno, the woman chosen by the Emperor to be the next Champion, and Chitra Batranala.”
“It is an honor to meet you, Champion. If you need anything, please just ask. I live to serve,” the general stated, giving them both a respectful bow.
Gabriela nodded, surprised by the man’s actions. In Ubran society, when two people met the person with lower status bowed to the other. She was used to Chitra bowing to her, as by being her “servant” it made some amount of sense that she would have to be of lower status. Outside of that, she really only talked to the Emperor, who she obviously should bow to, and Swordmaster Pareketh, who was above her by virtue of being her teacher. She was used to bowing to others at this point. But here was a major figure in the country’s military, bowing to her. Was she really of higher status than a general of an entire army?
“If I, um, may be so bold, Champion,” the bearded man asked, fidgeting nervously, “I wanted to ask... is it true what they say? That a stone Observer needs to be nearby whenever you train, because you keep destroying the training rooms?”
Gabriela paled. People knew about that, even all the way out here? People knew about her at all?
“It’s completely true,” her instructor snorted. “She wrecks everything she gets her hands on. The day before we left, she cracked the floor just by jumping! She’s the strongest brute I’ve ever taught, by leaps and bounds. But that’s about all she is. There’s still an entire journey left to go before she’s a capable warrior.”
“Ahahaha! Incredible!” the general chortled, clapping his hands together. “I couldn’t believe it, but if Yrijan says it’s true, then who am I to argue? But we can talk more later. Let’s move on to why you’re here, yes? My soldiers grow more impatient with every day. They smell blood.”
“You’re ready to strike so soon?” Gabby asked, surprised.
“So soon?” The man laughed again. “My dear, the Houses were so preoccupied with each other that they were unprepared for our invasion. Their cities fell like saplings in a storm. We were so ahead of schedule that we arrived here almost three days ago! The only thing that kept us from taking Istrouburn was the Emperor’s order to wait until you arrived.”
“I’m sorry we took so long,” Gabby apologized. “I’m not very good at riding vekkels yet and my sword bouncing around the whole time didn't help either.”
“You’re here now, that’s all that matters. Let’s get this over with so we can go home. If you’ll excuse me...” The general bowed and turned towards the tent flap, pushing it aside with a large, meaty hand. Gabby could hear him start to bark orders the moment he stepped outside.
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“What if they took all their valuables and ran?” Gabriela asked as she walked into the fortress in the center of Istrouburn alongside Chitra, the Swordmaster, General Moiras, and what felt like twenty battalions of soldiers. The soldiers fanned out, moving through the castle and incapacitating anybody still unlucky enough to be in the building. Though they had not technically occupied the castle until this moment, the battle had already ended in every way that mattered. Nobody still in this place would be stupid enough to keep fighting.
“I doubt it. The ruling family is long gone, almost assuredly, though we’ll hunt them down soon enough. But if they took anything of value, it would have to be small enough to hide on their bodies,” the general said. “If they had tried to move their real wealth, they’d need to take along a sizable number of troops just to protect their goods. That’s nearly impossible to do without being noticed. Our spies would have spotted something like that.”
Several soldiers returned, a panicking boy in his late teens struggling in their grip. His outfit seemed well-made and a bit fancier than a standard commoner’s clothes. A page, or a clerk-in-training most likely.
“Don’ ‘urt me! Please! I beg ya! I’ll do wha’ ya ask, jus’ le’ me live, please!” the young man pleaded. Gabby had to put her hand over her mouth to keep herself from laughing. What kind of sad excuse for an accent was that? She’d never heard anybody sound so dumb. It was like the kid had forgotten to enunciate half of the syllables!
The others in the group were less amused. “Do you know the way to the treasure vault?” General Moiras asked with a glower, his ample beard amplifying the effect.
“A-a-aye!” the shaken boy stuttered.
“Show us there,” the general commanded.
“O-o’ course! R-righ’ this way!”
The page led them to a massive set of double doors easily over six meters high. Made of solid hardwood, reinforced with bands of metal, and sporting a pair of large handles covered in carvings, the doors carried an imposing aura. General Moiras gave one of the handles a strong pull, but the door wouldn’t budge.
"Locked up tight. Seems like it's barred from the other side," he surmised. He pointed to a woman towards the back of the group. “You! Come make a tunnel into the vault.”
“That will take too long,” Gabby said, impatient to get inside. The walls surrounding the vault looked to be the same sort of granite that the Ubran vaults had been made from. She didn’t want to wait for it to slowly melt away, with the Eye possibly being just on the other side of these doors. “Just leave this to me.”
The general’s face split into a childish, eager grin. “By all means, please! I’m quite curious to see what you can do.”
“All of you back away. Get to the side.”
As soon as they were out of the area, Gabby pulled the Sword of Eternity off of her back and pulled it from the leather sheath. She heard General Moiras begin to mutter something but ignored it. Holding it level with the floor with the sharp edges aligned vertically, she concentrated, feeling the warmth of the fire within her spread to her extremities, and thrust her blade through the door, doing her best to avoid the metal bands. The wood around the impact point broke apart like it were balsa wood, leaving a jagged hole about half a meter wide going all the way through the thick door. Fastening the sword onto her back again, she then stretched one arm through the hole and grabbed the other side. As soon as she was sure she had a good grip, she began to tug.
The door groaned under the incredible stress, the wood bending and fighting against the metal bands. Small cracking sounds could be heard coming from where the door connected to the stone doorway, and it quickly became a question of which would break first, the door or the stone it was fastened to. The answer was the stone, likely due to the metal bands holding the door together. With a large “CRACK”, the door came loose as she literally ripped it from the doorway. A small smile of satisfaction graced her lips. The oversized wood and metal slab had to weigh several kilotons, but she held it aloft with contemptible ease. It felt good to be mighty, she couldn’t deny it. She tossed the door down the hallway away from the others and walked into the vault. After a moment, the others followed.
The chamber would have been impressive if she’d never been inside Vault Seven. Gold lay strewn about, along with a collection of random gemstones and other similar valuables. There was a chaos here that hadn’t been in the Ubran vault. Perhaps it had been ransacked after all?
Looking about, Gabby searched for any sign of an Eye of Pirath, but could not see one anywhere. Her heart sank as she swept aside piles of gold coins and other items, but continued to find nothing.
CLANK!
Turning about, Gabriela found General Moiras holding his ear to the vault wall as he hit it with a large metal mallet. Over and over he did it, working his way down the wall.
“What is he doing?” a confused Gabby whispered to a nearby Chitra. “Where’s the Eye?”
“The Droajans are weak, but they are not fools,” Chitra replied. “They would not leave something like an Eye lying about with other objects. They’d hide it away somewhere, even from the rest of their valuables. That’s what he’s looking for.”
Another soldier with a similar hammer began working her way down the other side of the vault, and the stereo clangs of metal on stone reverberated through the vault for several minutes as the two made their way away from the door. Suddenly, after a strike, the general stiffened. Closing his eyes, he hit the stone again, and then held up his free hand and snapped his fingers. The woman who had been about to make a tunnel around the vault doors rushed over to his side.
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“Right there,” he said, pointing to a spot on the wall. The woman concentrated on the area indicated and the wall began to melt away. At first there was nothing but more stone, but about thirty centimeters in the stone suddenly stopped, revealing a small recess. Inside the hole sat several incredibly ornate trinkets and one crystal enmeshed in shining metal—an Eye.
Tears of relief began to fall from Gabriela’s eyes. She wiped them away but the tears wouldn’t stop coming. They’d been telling the truth. There was a way home.
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“W-what’s this?” Gabriela stammered as she entered the training hall to find four other people besides the Swordmaster and the stone Observer there to repair the room. Three of them held weapons in their hands, and all four of them looked quite dangerous to her untrained eyes. Perhaps it was that they all carried the same look as her instructor and tormentor.
“We’re going to do something different today,” Pareketh told her, his face serious and deadpan as usual. “Today, instead of learning the sword, you will be learning combat. These are four soldiers I requested from the Emperor. You will be fighting them.” The four others bowed.
“Those weapons look sharp,” Gabby observed.
“They are.”
“What?! But what if I get hurt?!”
“That’s what your armor is for.”
“This armor?!” she squawked incredulously. Gabby looked down at the custom leather armor she wore over her torso and limbs. While fairly thick, she couldn’t imagine it holding a candle to some nice metal protection. “I thought this was just for training!”
“Absolutely not. Training in one type of armor and battling in another would ruin your balance and lead to unforced mistakes when your life is on the line. This has always been what I believe to be the best type of armor for you.”
“Why not something strong and thick, like metal?”
“Because you’re too short, for one. To get the type of protection you want, the metal would be so thick that you’d lose flexibility and movement range, which is a death sentence on the battlefield. That, or you would just break your own armor trying to move in ways it couldn’t handle. This armor is flexible and allows for your full range of motion, letting you utilize your speed as well as your power. It will also stop more than you think. If that’s not enough for you... just don’t get hit.”
“Don’t get hit? That’s absurd!”
“It’s necessary. So far, you have been sheltered from the real challenges of combat. It won’t be as easy and forgiving as our sparring sessions.” Gabby thought back to the hundreds of beatings she’d received from him over the last few months, but decided against saying anything. “It is important that you get used to the pressure and chaos of war, especially the feeling of fighting an opponent that wishes to kill you, before we place you in an actual battle. The first battle is always the most deadly one a soldier will ever face, because that is when the true nature of combat shows itself for the first time. People freeze or panic when they first experience it. They forget their training or make poor decisions. That is when death comes. We cannot allow that for you. You must be used to the danger before you even approach the battlefield.”
Gabriela swallowed. He made a compelling argument, but it didn’t make her feel any less uneasy. Perhaps her feelings were just proof that he was correct. Looking closer at the four soldiers, she inspected each of them. From left to right, there was a woman of average height holding a large battleaxe, a man with a shaved head who was holding a normal-sized sword in each hand, a small and lanky man with what looked like curved daggers, and lastly a woman who didn’t seem to have any weapons at all.
“Come, ready yourself,” her teacher said impatiently. “The time remaining before the next campaign is shrinking. Your part in the invasion is vital and you must be ready for it when the time comes.”
Reluctantly, Gabriela walked towards the center of the chamber and pulled out her sword. The four soldiers spread out, and she realized with alarm that they were each readying themselves.
“Wait, I’m fighting them all at once?!” she protested.
“Battle does not often allow for duels. Enough complaining. Begin!”
The axe lady and sword man rushed at her before she could begin to argue, immediately forcing her on the defensive. She blocked the axe coming from the left and launched herself backwards to avoid the two consecutive strikes coming from the right and above from the two-sworded man. The fire emerged, filling her with power, and she countered with a horizontal strike of her own. The two stepped back hurriedly. They’d been told about her strength, it seemed. Still, it seemed that they did not fully comprehend just how strong she could be, as the surprise on their faces as the shock wave flung them away showed. She ventured a small smile.
That smile didn’t last more than half a second as her ears almost immediately picked up the sound of somebody behind her. Spinning about, Gabby found to her shock that the man with the daggers had somehow gotten behind her during the melee. He rushed in, his body low and compact, as she tried to bring her sword around from her right side. Something hard slammed into her left shoulder, knocking her off balance just when the blade picked up momentum. Her sword swung wildly, curving up towards the ceiling thanks to her now-tilted frame. The weapon posed no danger to the small man as he ducked beneath it with ample room to spare. Gabriela threw herself to the side, but not before she felt a thin cold sharpness slice through her armor and leave a shallow but long cut across her side. She cried out as the pain struck.
“That’s not going to get it done!" Swordmaster Pareketh scolded as the four soldiers backed up and began to circle around her. “You're lucky to still be alive!”
Her heart was pounding in her ears. Her hands shook as she began to pant, her eyes darting this way and that, searching for danger. Was this was a real fight felt like? It was terrible! Why had she thought she’d be able to do this? She was just a woman, a regular woman with no real talent for any of this stuff. But... there was no other choice, was there?
A rock the size of her fist lying on the floor caught her eye. Where had that come from? Was that what had hit her in the back, knocking off her swing? Suddenly she noticed another stone seemingly growing between the outstretched palms of the fourth woman, the one without a weapon. An Observer. Was the woman just going to throw rocks at her? That was going to be incredibly annoying. She kicked the stone away and raised up her sword again, trying to ignore the burning pain in her side. Today was going to be the worst.
For hours Gabriela battled the four soldiers as they slowly and painfully taught her just how insufficient she was, one laceration at a time. They harried her like a murder of crows would harass a hawk, overwhelming her with coordinated attacks and superior numbers. While Gabby was stronger than every other person in the room put together, she discovered that she was still lacking in everything else. Her form, though much improved from where it had been just weeks prior, was still nowhere near good enough to allow her to fend off and attack a group of people who knew how to work together. Her poor decision making caused her to prioritize threats incorrectly annoyingly often, and her inability to read her opponents meant she fell for almost every feint they showed her. Were she not bleeding from two dozen cuts, she would likely have admitted that the experience was necessary. That is, until disaster struck.
Gabriela swung in frustration and anger, bowling the man with two swords back. A glint out of the corner of her eye told her that axe lady was coming, her axe swinging down towards Gabby’s right side. Gabby began to pivot and raise her sword, but just then another large stone slammed into her lower leg, knocking her foot out from under her. Completely caught off guard by the sudden instability, Gabriela tumbled, her arms flailing about as she fell. The axe woman’s eye went wide with fear and she pulled her weapon back as best she could, but it was too late. Time seemed to slow down as they watched the axe, now covered in nicks from the day’s battle, slice into the tough leather bracer covering Gabriela’s right arm and just keep going, carving all the way through her limb just above the wrist.
Gabriela let out a piercing scream as intense pain assaulted her mind. She fell to her knees as tears flooded her sight. Blood spurted from the wound, spraying out onto the nearby floor, painting the stone dark red.
“YOU FOOL! I TOLD YOU SUPERFICIAL WOUNDS ONLY!” roared Swordmaster Pareketh. He pulled out his weapon and advanced on the unfortunate perpetrator.
“I-I-I... I didn’t...” the ashen woman stammered, stepping back as the enraged teacher drew near.
“I should kill you where you stand! The Emperor will do far worse for what you have done,” the old man growled.
“P-please! It was an accident!”
The woman’s pleas barely registered in Gabriela’s ears; nor did the words of Chitra, who was now kneeling down beside her and hurriedly pulling bandages out of a pack. She was too busy screaming while staring at the stump where her arm had once been, her left hand wrapped around the wound and squeezing tight to act as a makeshift tourniquet. Her mind didn’t know how to handle what had just happened to her. Her hand, her wrist... gone. What was she going to do? She was fucked. There was no way she could fight like this, missing her dominant hand, right? How would she find the Eyes of Pirath now?
Her children. They’d be all alone now, forever. She’d failed them, and she hadn’t even made it to the hard part. No! She couldn’t let that happen! There had to be a way!
Perhaps spawned from her unflagging determination, something new burst out from her soul, something fierce and hot, but also cold. It felt like liquid fire was coursing through her blood, threatening to scorch everything inside of her, yet somehow cold enough to freeze anything it touched. The cold fire quickly collected around the stump of her right arm, as if obeying her will.
Gabriela let out a gasp in amazement, watching as her severed arm seemed to begin to burn, turning into crimson smoke and flowing back towards the stump as if drawn there by an invisible force. Chitra froze as well, her eyes bugging out as she watched Gabby’s arm rebuild itself, the smoke reforming into her hand as if it had been attached all along. Gabby moved her fingers, wiggling each of them and squeezing them into a fist. Was she imagining things? She poked it with her other hand and felt the soft touch of her finger as she ran it along her palm. Bringing her arm up to her face, she searched for any sign of a wound and found none.
“Swordmaster!” Chitra cried out, pulling her to her feet.
The old man, who had backed the poor axe woman into a nearby corner, whirled around with a fury. “What is it?!” he snarled. The Batranala just held up Gabriela’s intact arm, pointing to it without comment.
“How did you do this?” he asked her.
“I- I don’t know,” she replied.
“Can you do it again?”
“I don’t know.”
He scrutinized her form. “You still have your other wounds. Can you heal those as well?”
The aches and pains of her other cuts and bruises reentered her awareness at his words. She’d been so preoccupied with her missing hand that she’d forgotten that there even were other wounds.
“Do it,” he commanded.
Gabriela focused on the myriad cuts all across her body, willing them to heal. Nothing happened. She went deeper, dredging up that feeling of urgent need that had been there last time, emulating the technique she’d developed and honed over months of practice bringing out her strength. She didn’t just want those cuts to heal, she needed them healed. Obeying her every beck and call, the potent cold burning returned and flowed quickly out to each and every wound left.
“By the Emperor’s beard!” the old man muttered as red smoke filled in her wounds, rebuilding her flesh until it was as if the lacerations had never been even been there. The man straightened, processing what he'd just seen, before turning to the others. “This changes everything. Everybody take your places. You no longer need to hold back. All strikes are allowed.”
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A howling wind blasted Gabby’s body, roaring in her ears. Snow whipped into her face, carrying with it small chunks of ice that left shallow cuts on her forehead and cheeks. She barely noticed, the cuts sealing themselves up and disappearing within moments.
That sort of pain didn’t even register to her anymore, not after spending the last month losing limbs, getting impaled, being burned alive... as soon as it had become clear that she could come back from basically any punishment, Swordmaster Pareketh had shifted the way he trained her, focusing the majority of their time on getting her as accustomed to pain as he could.
“You’re nowhere near ready for a real battle, and you won’t be even when the time comes if we don’t change course,” he’d explained. “Your swordsmanship just won’t be good enough to cut it in the chaos. Yesterday showed that. But that’s only if we keep treating you like a normal fighter. Sword fighting is not the art of swinging a sword around. It’s the art of hitting without being hit, reading openings, taking advantage of mistakes, and keeping yourself alive long enough to be around when those mistakes appear.
“A man who no longer values his life is the most dangerous opponent, because he will be willing to make sacrifices that others won’t. Somebody willing to throw away any pretense of defense and self-preservation is a terrifying enemy. That’s what we’re going to make you: a terror on the battlefield, constantly attacking with irresistible force, doing as much damage as possible no matter the cost. Except, unlike a doomed soul going out in a blaze of glory, you will never stop, powering through the blades in your chest, the arrow in your neck... you’ll be the most feared warrior in the world, somebody worthy of being called ‘Champion’. We just have to get you used to the pain.”
What followed had been as terrible as one might imagine. For the sake of her goals—for the sake of her children—Gabriela willingly put herself through every type of torture and harm imaginable. Acid, fire, crushing, freezing, if it hurt, she had experienced it, healed herself, and gone back for more. To her relief, it had worked. While she still felt the pain, what at first would have incapacitated her she could now shunt away to a corner of her mind and keep moving while she healed, letting her power through damage that would cripple anybody else. She didn’t fear pain anymore. She didn’t fear much of anything, really, except losing her children for good... and heights. Which was the current problem.
In order for the Ubrans to invade their neighboring continent, they had to solve the problem of Redwater Castle, known throughout the world as the strongest, most impregnable fortress ever created. But even that wasn’t the most pressing issue. Before they could even think of attacking the castle, they had to do something about the warning relay, the system of bonfires that would quickly pass word of an invasion through the mountains to Gustil, allowing the natives to gather reinforcements and get them to Redwater in only a matter of days.
The problem had always been that there was no way to stop the relay. Trying to cross The Divide in any way other than the single pass that lead to Redwater Castle was a ticket to certain death. Literally nobody in the known history of the world had made it across any other way, which meant that cutting off the relay was impossible—until she’d arrived. Gabriela had the strength and speed to cross the impassable chasms and the stamina to keep going without food or water. The heat of her strength kept her warm in the freezing cold, and she could heal the inevitable injury. Injuries were the primary reason nobody ever made it through The Divide, as even minor mistakes could lead to drastic consequences. That was the trick about this place. It didn’t need to be a deadly fall from a cliff a hundred meters off the ground. All it took was one stumble, one slip on icy rock, or something else equally minor to cause a fall that would break your ankle or smash a shin. Then you were trapped, unable to make it far enough to get out before the cold and lack of food eventually did you in. At least, if you were somebody else. It wouldn’t be a problem for Gabriela, which is what made her so perfect for the task.
And so Gabriela had embarked alone on a journey across The Divide, working her way along steep mountain slopes, along perilous cliffs, over treacherous canyons, and straight up icy, slippery rock walls. It was simple. All she had to do was never look down. Ever. She’d lasted an hour.
The first tumble had come at that hour mark, when she’d made the mistake of looking back to see how far she’d gone. Her body had locked up and her vision had gone all topsy-turvy, and the next thing she knew she was a good forty meters lower than she’d just been and both her legs were broken. But she’d gotten back up, repeating her children's’ names to give herself the drive to face down the most primal of her fears, a habit she’d developed over her month of “pain tolerance training”.
Here, surrounded by icy cliffs and endless drops, their names were always on her lips, pushing her forward, keeping her going. She was nearly there, nearly to her goal. She just had to finish climbing up this last, massive cliff face and cross over to the other side of the mountain.
“Javier. Anahi. Javier. Anahi. Javier. Anahi.” Keeping her head looking always upward, she reached up and grabbed a handhold with her right hand, pulling herself up as she searched for another one higher still with her left. Soon her left hand found purchase and she continued her climb. “Javier. Anahi. Javier. Anahi.”
Just keep going. Don’t look down. Don’t think about where you are or what you are doing. Just keep going.
With a soft crack, the rock she’d been clinging to crumbled, sending Gabriela plummeting towards the ground below, the fierce winds blowing away her terrified shrieks. She landed on her back with a sickening crunch a hundred meters below. Most bones in her body were broken. A long shard of ice from the outcropping she’d landed on had pierced straight through her chest, cutting straight through her lung and part of her heart.
Javier. Anahi. She refused to let this stop her. She’d fallen many times during this journey, suffering a wide assortment of injuries from cracked skulls to broken backs to worse. This wasn’t even the worst incident from the last few days.
Javier. Anahi. The now familiar cold burn burst into being, repairing her broken bones and ravaged organs. The spike of ice sticking out through her chest toppled over, the part that had still been in her body now gone. That was what happened when she healed herself with something still inside her. Her body ate it away, or absorbed it, or banished it to another dimension... she wasn’t sure what happened to it, but it would disappear. The amount of times she’d turned a spear into a stick and a spearhead were too many to count.
Pushing herself to her feet, Gabby looked back up at the cliff. She couldn’t even see the top. She took a deep breath and grabbed a handhold above her head. Time to try again.
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The relay station didn’t look like much. Placed on the top of a ridge, all she could see was a small stone cabin and a large frame a good four meters high with huge stacks of firewood arranged inside it. Not a single soul could be seen outside. She didn’t blame whoever was here for avoiding the chilly winds as best they could. Especially since that made her mission easier. Sprinting up the incline, Gabriela sped straight for the unlit stack of wood, swinging the Sword of Eternity at it with everything she had. The wood and its frame exploded, the thousands of wooden splinters flying about and down the slope on the other side of the ridge.
Without pausing to admire her handiwork, Gabby sprinted towards the building just as a man emerged, fire floating above his hand. Her sword carved through the man’s body almost as if it weren’t there, the sonic boom that followed spraying his insides through the air. His upper half, look of shocked disbelief and all, tumbled down the nearby slope. She had finally done it. She’d killed somebody intentionally, somebody she didn’t know and had no hatred for. While she knew that she was supposed to feel bad about this, for some reason she didn’t, at least not in the heat of the moment. Maybe she’d feel it later. Right now she was busy. Busy taking care of the two others still inside the cabin.
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Redwater Castle was as imposing as the stories claimed. Gabriela hid behind a boulder on the Nocend side path to the fortress, staring at the massive walls in awe. They put even the battlements in Ubra to shame.
Since wiping out and destroying that relay post, Gabriela had continued to carry out her mission, traveling west for the last half day along the path to Redwater and destroying every other relay post on the way. There were still others to the east, but they didn’t matter as they were too far away. No matter how high the signal fire in the castle burned, there was no way anybody in a relay post would be able to see it now.
It was time for the final part of her mission: the fall of the greatest fortress known to man. First, she had to make an entrance. Her legs began to blur as she accelerated up the path, her speed exceeding 200 kilometers an hour. As she closed in, she leapt, her explosive strength propelling her up over the massive walls. She saw men and women gawking as she sailed over their heads.
Spies had long documented the layout and function of the entire fortress, and Gabriela had spent a good amount of time memorizing her way around the place so that she could accomplish her next task. Landing unsteadily but on her feet, she sprinted towards a door to the south at full speed, barreling through the door without a care for who might be on the other side. Shouldering a surprised man out of the way, she jumped down the stairs, and took a right. A warning horn sounded outside, but she barely noticed as she drew her sword and swung it through the two guards standing by the nearby door. Blood and guts splattered the walls as her blade cleaved through both men and their armor with ease, the shock wave of her strike blowing the door between them open. Within sat her next targets—the Manys.
Gabriela didn’t understand who or what a “Many” was. She just knew that they were used to communicate across long distances instantaneously, allowing somebody to, for example, inform one of the countries of Nocend that the Ubrans were on their way. That couldn’t be allowed to happen. The Sword of Eternity flashed through the air, over and over, until she was the only person in the room left breathing.
Her work was nearly complete now. By this point, the signal beacon had likely been lit. What the soldiers in Redwater Castle didn’t realize was that their fire would never be seen by their comrades to the east. It would, however, be seen by the Ubrans to the west, the signal for them to begin their assault on the fortress. All that remained for her to do was to cause as much chaos and bloodshed as possible while the full brunt of the Ubran army was brought to bear on one of the few places that might otherwise be able to stand against it.
Heading back down the hallway and up the stairs, her blade striking out at anything that moved as she passed by, Gabriela emerged to find hundreds of soldiers waiting for her in the courtyard and hundreds more up on the walls with either bows drawn or projectiles materializing in front of them. Without even a word, a hail of arrows, rocks the size of her head, fireballs, and more rained down upon her. Gabby swung once at an upward angle, creating a shock wave that knocked most of the projectiles away. Still some kept coming. She didn’t care.
Rushing forward, Gabriela felt the sting of arrows piercing her flesh, the sizzle of fire burning her skin, the crunch of stone breaking her bones. They would have stopped her, once upon a time. But that time was long past.
The cool fire of her regeneration going to work immediately and setting her body right, she waded into the mass of enemies coming to meet her. The pitch black blade lashed out with blinding speed, cutting through swathes of soldiers with every mighty swing, the crack of thunder that followed knocking even more off their feet. Some people turned and ran, but she was upon them before they could even take two steps. She was death, a reaper of souls in human form. She was unstoppable, inescapable. In just a few seconds, hundreds of people died by Gabriela’s hands.
Still, Redwater Castle was not held by just a few hundred soldiers. No, many more thousands were stationed here, enough to hold off an army of hundreds of thousands with ease. There was much more work to be done. Gabby sprinted for the nearest stairs, taking them five steps at a time as she made her way up onto the walls. Warriors came at her from all sides, striking at her with all manner of weapons, but Gabby refused to fall. There was somewhere she needed to be, and no amount of pain or enemies would keep her from getting there as soon as possible.
Chitra had told Gabriela once that Redwater Castle had been named for the snow melt that flowed down from the fortress during the spring, its color stained red with rusted iron leached out from the mountains. Today Gabriela would give the name a whole new meaning.
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“You did well. Better than I’d hoped,” Swordmaster Pareketh said, placing a callused hand on Gabby’s shoulder as she leaned against a wall. She had holed up in an empty room near the center of the fortress to rest for a bit as the Ubrans finished overrunning the last remnants of resistance. Not that she was tired, at least physically; her body felt just fine. It was just that there were only so many people she could slice in half before she needed a break, a respite to clear her mind of the gore that had filled her vision for the past while. To her disgust, blood and bits of flesh covered her from head to toe, leaving her sticky all over. It was on her face, in her hair, soaked into her clothes... she wouldn’t be surprised if she found some inside her boots when she took them off later. She needed a bath in the worst way but didn’t dare until she knew the job was over.
“I think a few got away,” she said. “Fled east when the fight got bad.”
“Don’t worry about it. I saw them sending out teams to hunt down anybody still alive out there. You can relax in a moment. There’s just one thing left to be done. Come with me.” He led her out of the room.
“I was wrong. I’m sorry,” he said after a moment as they walked through the halls.
“About what?”
“I don’t think it will surprise you when I say that I did not have high hopes for you when we first started,” he replied. “I saw a woman too old, too weak, too out of her depth. I thought that sending you to the battlefield would just end painfully for you and everybody relying on you. I was wrong. I pushed you, harder than I’ve ever treated any of my other students. Part of it was how little time we had, but much of it was that I wanted you to break. The Emperor had chosen you, and nothing I could say would be able to override his whim. But if I got you to give up and quit on your own, then this would all be stopped before it went wrong. I told myself that it would be better for everyone that way.
“But you didn’t break. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I pushed you, you didn’t break. The first fight against the four soldiers was my last attempt to show you just how overmatched you were, if even well-trained but average soldiers could take you down in relative ease. But even then you kept getting up. All day you refused to back down. Then... well we both remember what happened then.” He chuckled. “That’s when I realized I’d been looking at you the wrong way since the beginning. I’d been so caught up in what I saw on the outside that I refused to see deep inside you was the most important quality of a warrior: the absolute refusal to lose.”
He stopped before the door that led out to the central courtyard. Gabby could hear dozens of voices on the other side of the closed door as soldiers hurried about, busy with the many tasks still left to be done.
“Listen to me, Gabriela. Your body is... well... it’s absurd. You do things that shouldn’t be possible, things that I have never seen or heard of before that make me question my own sanity. But in truth, your greatest strength is not your body. It is what’s up here.” He pointed to her head. “As long as you keep up that will to fight, that refusal to break under any circumstances, nothing will ever be able to stop you from achieving your goals. Remember that. I may have given directions, but you walked this path with your own two feet. You have every right to be proud of what you’ve accomplished, Gabri—no... Champion Carreno.”
He smiled, the first smile he’d ever given to her since she’d met him. For just a moment he didn’t seem like the grumpy old teacher she’d come to know, but rather like the proud grandfather she’d never had. Then the smile disappeared and he returned to being the gruff and surly man she’d spent so much time with.
“Now go, my student, and hold your head up high,” he said as he opened the door and pushed her through.
The fortress was alive with activity as countless people swarmed this way and that, an endlessly shifting ocean of bodies. Just after she stepped outside, however, a series of horns blared somewhere just above and behind her and everybody stopped in place, turning together to look in her general direction. The entire castle stilled.
“People of Ubrus!” a voice shouted from above her, a voice she recognized. Turning about to look above her, Gabby recognized the massive bushy beard of General Moiras. He stood on a balcony a story above her, hollering to the assembled soldiers for all to hear. “Men and women of the Empire’s legions! Brave warriors of the Emperor’s Might! I give you...” He gestured down towards Gabby. “The one who will lead us to victory! Champion Gabriela Carreno!”
Almost as one, the entire host of soldiers turned their eyes on her. Gabby didn’t know what to do, so she just did the first thing that came to her head. Lifting her blood-covered sword up with her right hand, she thrust it with gusto towards the sky. The fortress exploded with the cheers of a hundred thousand voices.
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Gabby stood before the Latino man, her sword held high above her head, and wavered. Many people had already died to her blade, so many that the act barely registered with her anymore. This felt different.
For some reason, the fact that this asshole, who’d verbally abused her and had never even given her his name, was from Earth mattered to her—so much so that she'd barely fought him at first, using nowhere near her full power in the hopes that he'd listen to reason. Only after he'd killed her had she put that hesitation aside. Even so, killing him still felt like crossing a line that could never be uncrossed. She knew it was an insult to every Scyrian in the world that killing this one douchebag as he writhed on the ground meant more to her than the deaths of all the Scyrians that had fallen to her blade so far. It was tantamount to saying that they weren’t really people in her eyes. But she couldn’t deny that it mattered to her. This was somebody with whom she shared a connection, a history, that she would never have with anybody from this world. If she killed this man, she would be a murderer no matter where she went, no matter what world she was in. If she swung her blade, her soul would be stained forever.
“Javier. Anahi,” she whispered to herself. It had never really been in doubt. She would accept that stain. She would accept everything. Any price was worth paying to see her children again. To keep them safe. The blade swung down.