Sat Apr 23, 2011 5:36 am
The Battle~ (Article Competition Entry)
She looked around for the soft sound she had heard. Her pointed ears straining in the night, her heartbeat slowing as she closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, focusing her senses. The scent of unwashed bodies overwhelmed her and for a few seconds, she struggled to hold back the gasp threatening to escape her rosy lips. Control regained, her body turned in one swift fluid movement toward the region the odor emanated from. Her lithe supple body honed by years of training, coiled and tensed like a spring, and in a sudden flash she darted up the nearest tree and clung to the top.
Her violet eyes narrowed, the catlike slits expanding as she pushed her sense of sight to view the unseen. The dagger in her boot, warmed and began to thrum silently against her flesh. She smiled then into the night, a horrible deadly expression. They were coming in droves, planning to catch her city unaware.
The fools had lit torches; she could see the glow as they raced, twisting and turning through the forest. She hunched down for a fraction of a second, and in one quick flash, she jumped. Body arching as she flew, down, one foot barely touching a limb, fingertips touching for just the barest instant on another as she somersaulted, leapt, and seemed to fly thru the trees. She reached her destination, a mile behind her, in less time than it would have taken a typical human to climb back down from the tree she had perched in.
She stopped in the top of the last tree before the outer city walls. She reached one toned slender arm behind her head and removed her bow, and a single white arrow with a single crimson feather tipped in black attached to the end, from her quiver. She notched the arrow and drew her bow, glanced at the furthest tallest tower. Spying the tiny window that could barely fit a head thru, she fired. The whisper of metal and moonwood pierced the air in a soft hiss as the arrow flew straight and true to her target. A muffled scream shattered the silence, and she grinned in pleasure as her bolt hit home.
"That was my arse, you god forsaken witch," yelled the tall silverhaired male, as he poked his head out of the tiny opening that had just been the portal for delivery of the aching message now protruding from his left buttock.
She laughed, a rich melodious sound that echoed for a moment. Then in a slow, silken, slither her wings slide out from beneath the skin of her shoulder blades. With a sudden snap, she unfurled them, extending them in preparation for the short flight over the city wall. The moonlight glinted off the soft gray feathers that shone with a iridescent silvery glimmer, every one outlined in gold, even the very outer edges and curves of the wings had a light dusting of gold that contrasts beautifully. They were a breathtaking sight, each one spanning seven feet from her shoulder blades to their tip. She sprang into the air, flexing her wings, and caught the current, letting it carry her to the top of the tower she had shot her arrow into. The gentle breeze tugs at her ebony hair as she soars across the midnight sky, her creamy skin glowing with an inner luminescence in the pale moonlight.
Her bare foot, touches the cool marble of the steps set into the back side of the roof as she lands, folding her wings about her like a cloak. Her footsteps are inaudible, not even the soft swish of flesh on stone as she walks with fluid grace down the few remaining stairs into the crowded room within the top of the tower.
She stood in the shadows for a few moments, watching in humor as Ryden grasped the shaft of the sacred moonwood arrow, and with a grunt of pain and a sharp hissing intake of breath, yanked the offending item from his posterior. A grumbling, "Damn woman," was followed by a vigorous rubbing and a quick spellcasting over the injured region. In seconds, a relieved sigh escaped his lips, as the healing spell quickly knitted his torn flesh and repaired the wound.
"I know you are there, my impish beloved, I can always sense your presence, I know when you are near," his deep voice ran through her, sending delightful chills racing over her flesh. She stepped from the shadows, a sheepish grin plastered to her face, as she glided over to him.
As she sent her wings to rest once again beneath her skin, in a quick fluttery rush, he watched as her curvaceous figure was revealed. Sucking in a sharp breath, his throat suddenly dry as his heart twisted painfully in pleasure and a love so deep it ached. 'Damn my father and the high priestesses for banning our union, can't they see our love is godblessed? The blind fools.' His thoughts of the upcoming attack, momentarily pushed to the back of his mind, as he grimaced inwardly in displeasure.
"They are less than an hour away, Ryden. We must complete the preparations. The final traps are all but finished, and the army stands at the ready, I will ride with you at the head of the knights, my prince. The city will not fall, my brother will gain no glory today," her soft voice carried across the room, as she came to stand before him. She reached a hand up, and tenderly caressed his cheek. "We are strong, tonight I am tested by the goddess, I will not fail in my first battle. I would dishonor the gifts she has granted me, I was chosen before birth, she will not let me fail." The strength of her conviction unbreakable, unyielding, and potent in its pure raw power.
"How many did you see, what odds are we up against," he queried, as he absently stroked her silken hair, letting the blue-black strands sift through his fingers.
"Truthfully, we are outnumbered almost five to one, but we have the godess on our side," she turned her back to him, walking to the stairs, her wings already sliding out, preparing for flight to join the men assembled in the courtyard and barracks, readying for the upcoming battle. She could already hear the creaking of oiled leather tunics, the clank of iron and metal, as the armor and weaponry were adorned, the restless pacing of booted feet far below her. The twang of bows being strung, the wooden and metallic soft snicks as quivers were loaded, met her ears as she mentally tallied and assessed the preparation actions of the army; using simply her enhanced sense of sound, another gift of the godesss.
Ryden followed her to the top of the stairway, she paused momentarily and turned to him. A long hungry look of desperate aching, longing, and desire filled his steel gray eyes, a perfect mirror reflection of the same emotion that filled and threatened to spill from her own violet eyes. He reached a trembling hand to her face, and let his fingertips graze gently along the curve of her face. The delicate features drew his gaze for longer than he dared name, her beauty undeniable in its perfection. "My heart is with you, always," he whispered, as she drew a shaky breath, and in one swift movement, snapped open her wings and dove from the tower. And as she drifted nearer to the ground, although he could not hear her, she whispered into the night wind, "And mine with you."
She came to light right in the heart of her king's gathered army, cheers and shouts immediately rising from the men and women gathered. She refolded her wings and turned to the troops assembled. Her voice strong and filled with the power of the goddess, as she spoke. "My brother's army is soon upon us. Do not falter in the face of seemingly overwhelming odds. Yes, his force is larger than our own, and just as highly trained as any of you. You are fighting for your wives, your sisters, your mothers, your children, you fathers, your brothers. You are fighting most of all for yourselves. My brother will take no prisoners on the field of battle, and should you allow your resolve to fail, and the city to fall, he will enslave your families and take from you, all that you hold dear, defile the sacred grove. The goddess is with us. We will not surrender, we will not fail. We will fight to the last man, to the last breath. Stoke the fires in your soul, let your rage and righteous anger give you strength. We will make them pay, in blood and sweat and pain and tears for the misdeeds they have wrought against us for the last two years. Now is our time, we shall prevail."
A loud roar that swelled and shook the foundations of the city, and rattled the walls went up from the men and women before her. She pulled her sword from its sheath at her hip, and with a gutteral yell, raised it aloft in the moonlight. Suddenly, she began to glow, a hot white brightness that threatened to burn the eyes of any who looked at her from their skulls. The most beautiful feminine voice they had ever heard, went through the minds of every single man, woman, and child in the city, "Have faith my children, I am with you." And as the voice fell silent, the light faded from Mikaiyu's form. A stunned and reverent silence went through the crowd, as every single resident of the city simultaneously fell to one knee in awe.
Loud roars and gruff laughter, mingled with coarse profanity and insults were suddenly hurled into the night from right beyond the city walls. Time had passed more quickly than anyone had realized, and now the enemy horde was knocking at the barred gates. With a bloodcurdling shriek an entire regiment of enemy infantry, fell victim to the first of the city's defenses. The screams and howls of pain of the dying and maimed, they impaled themselves and fell to their doom amongst the dozens of hidden holes, bearing five foot long spears of sharpened stakes and sharpened pieces of jagged metal. The regiment behind them, still rushed heedlessy ahead, some using the bodies of their fallen brethen to hop across the deadly traps.
Archers across the top of the city walls began firing into what seemed to be an ocean of the enemy, arrows raining down with deadly accuracy. Bodies falling by the scores, riddled with arrows. Mikaiyu murmured a prayer to the heavens, and drew her bow. Sighting along the arrow, she looked for a commander. Spying a large rough-looking man atop a horse shouting commands, she released the bolt, pausing only long enough to see it pierce his throat; and move to another and another target, firing with deadly precision every time.
In a fountain of arterial blood, mouth working soundlessly now, the enemy commander toppled from the horse. One foot caught in the stirrup, and the frightened animal spooked, dragging the corpse, causing it to slam into other soldiers on the run as the body bounced and jolted and was flung in every direction in the horse's terrifed dash. Finally with a sickenly pop, the leg tore free of the body, and the remainder of the dead man went flying six feet into the air to crash with a heavy dull thud into the side of another enemy knight's horse. The body hit with such force, the man was flung from his saddle and flew head first into the tree his mount had been passing. He hit the tree with an audible crunching of bones, and his body slid lifelessly down the tree, to land in a broken heap at the base of the tree. His head now faced the complete opposite direction, face now hanging down his own back, neck broken upon impact.
The gates were beginning to crack and splinter from repeated blows from the battering ram being beaten against it; sounding very much like a drumbeat of death. Mikaiyu sheathed her bow, and jumped from the side of the wall, landing lightly on her feet 20 feet below. She ran to the gates, shouting commands, heart pumping vigorously in anticipation. Her first real battle, and she reveled in the energy and fire racing through her, sharpening her senses, making her movements more precise, more deadly. "Rally to me men, the gates are about to give way."
She caught a flash of silver out of the corner of her eye, Ryden was beside her. His contigent of knights fanned out behind him, a bloodthirsty glimmer in their eyes, deadly expressions affixed to their faces. In a voice like thunder Ryden boomed, "We will not let them get through the inner gates, let's take this fight to them men, make them remember for generations to come of the day we wiped nearly their entire army from the face of history. Let them feel the fury of our blades."
And as the men gave an earsplitting battlecry, the outer gate gave way in a thunderous crack, and exploded in a shower of wood. Enemy swarmed through the gate like flies, and the two armies came in a deafening cacophony of metal on metal and the thud of flesh meeting flesh. The air grew thick with the stench of sweat, blood, and unwashed bodies. The sharp tang of steel scraping steel, as swords met and sprang back and forth in a deadly dance.
Mikaiyu sprang forward, her sword like a living extension of her body. She plunged her weapon into the belly of the man in front of her, his shriekof pain became a gurgling death rattle, as in one fluid motion she turned the sword on its side and split him from navel to neck. Her sword cleaving him in two, and withdrew the weapon from his body in a mist of blood, gobs of flessh and bits of bone went flying like rain, spattering her in gore. With her opposite hand, she wiped at the blood on her face to clear her sight, leaving crimson smears across her cheeks. She moved like lightning, ducking, weaving, thrusting plunging, every hit either hacking limbs from bodies or a perfect killing blow. The bodies piled up around her, yet she had not a scratch on her. She wore no armor, and the shirt she wore was a gossamer silken covering, concealing only her chest, and tied with a leather thong around her neck, leaving ur midriff and back exposed. In moments, it was soaked in the blood and gore of the enemy troops and clung to her body like a second skin. She whirled and moved, fluid, graceful, deadly; every opponent who faced her fell like trees, hewn to bits in mere seconds. Her blade was a flash of quicksilver, moving so rapidly you could barely track its movements. One instant it was plunging out the back of her foe and in the following fraction of a second, had shorn the head off her next victim.
Ryden, glanced over, his attention grabbed for tiniest time by the glowing of her skin and her sword in the moonlight. His adversary, turned his head, and for a few heartbeats they both stared in awe and the angel of death as she danced her deathsong upon her enemies. Her movements a complete and total perfect combination of fluidity, grace, and destruction. Ryden's opponent dropped his jaw in wonder, looked from her back to Ryden, and threw down his sword, dropping to his knees in surrender. "I cannot hope to come away unscathed should she decide my head would go better severed from my neck, your highness, I have a family," whispered the man in terrified awe, as he fell prostrate in the mud, and offal on the ground.
Ryden called one of his men, giving him orders to take a contigent of men and take any enemies who surrendered away from the fighting, to a safe area. He would be a kind and just ruler, when he ascended to his birthright, the throne.
Mikaiyu began advancing, carving a path out of the city, the men following behind her, fanning out, and charging forward into the enemy. The king, in silver and gold armor, sat upon a midnight stallion, who pawed the earth, snorting, his equine body trembling and tensed, wanting to kick and slash and trample and crush the bodies of his foes, as he'd been trained since birth. With a shout, sword raised high, Ryden's father urged his steed forward, calling his calvary to bear, and they thundered throug the opening Mikaiyu had made. Long swords flashed in the moonlight, as heads went flying in a spray of scarlet, and limbs were hacked and hewn like so much firewood from their owners' bodies.
Mikaiyu lost count of the enemy soldiers who had fallen prey to the voracious appetite of her blade. She leapt over the still dying and twitching corpse of the man she had just slain, her sword slick with warm blood as it ran down her arm when she raised it to strike down the man before her. His head came off with a soft sickening snick of razor sharp blade cutting through flesh, sinew, and bone. She whirled, parrying a thrust aimed at her back, and when she pulled her sword from the man's now cavernous hole in his chest, his still beating heart was pulled from within and impaled upon the tip of her blade. She gave a flick of her wrist, and the heart went soaring through the air. Her ears twitched at a sound far off in the distance, and she leapt into the air, the wings she'd kept held inside her skin exploding into immediate flight as she rushed in urgent dismay towards the sound. Pushing herself to the limit, she flew almost recklessly toward her target. 'No, no," she silently raged, body taut with dismay. She grabbed the dagger from her boot, and tossed it with deadly precision, the flat of the blade halting the arrow's flight. Stretching as far as she could, she knocked the second arrow from the sky, and she screamed in horror as the third arrow found its mark. "Nooooooooo," she shrieked as she grabbed the king falling from his mount before he could hit the ground. An arrow protruded from his chest, blood bubbled from his mouth, spilling down his cheeks and over her hands. She flew him to the top of the city wall, and gently cradled his head on her lap.
"Your highness, I was too late! I am sorry, I have failed you" she sobbed, as his lifes blood spilled on her flesh. Her blood and dirt begrimed face, had two clean trails now running down them, washed clean by the tears that now fell like a gentle rain upon his own face.
He weakly raised one hand and patted her cheek, like a beloved daughter. "Never think that, it is I who have wronged you, and my son. I see that now. Be happy with him. You were brilliant in battle, I have never seen such perfection as I saw in you as you slaughtered our enemy. I am sorry it is your twin we must ask you to fight, forgive me," he wheezed in a dying rattle, as his punctured lung filled with blood.
She whispered against his cheek, as she kissed it tenderly. "You did as you thought best for your people, no kingdom could ever have asked for a better man for a sovereign." And with one last gaspy gurgling breath, Ryden's father, King Solaryc died in her arms.
She threw back her head and wailed at the loss, the ache in her soul. The king had been a great man, a kind and just ruler who truly cared for his people; had even walked unguarded, unafraid thoroughout his city, his kingdom. Talking earnestly and frankly with peasant and noble alike, ensuring the wellbeing of all his subjects. Traits he had passed to his only son and heir, impressing upon Ryden from an early age the principles of respect, honor, loyalty, and love for the people, the country. She laid the king to rest against the marble stones beneath her feet, and howled her loss and anger at the unanswering midnight sky. She looked down at the enemy's army..narrowing her eyes, expanding her sight she found her brother. Giving an horrible twisted smile full of vengenance, promise, death...she flung her arms wide. A white blue light began to envelop her, spreading from the very core of her. The light pulsing thrumming throbbing, a whirl of energy building up within and around her.
The air grew still. She spoke, and the words carried even to her brother seated half a mile away. "Let this serve as a warning, leave my people in peace," and in a sudden rush of heat and sparks, in a blinding burst og white hot light so bright the midnight sky became as clear as day for a few mere seconds, she released the energy.
White blue lances of of lightning and fire, raced through the battlefield below. Every single enemy still fighting that it touched...disappeared in a puff of smoke, as though they never existed. Nothing was left behind to leave any trace that someone had just been standing there; even the corpsess of the enemy dead were obliterated. Seeing this unfightable foe, smashing through their ranks, the men and women who had fought as her brother's army still untouched by here bolts of pure energy turned as one and fled screaming into the night, back the way that had come. In moments, the only opponent left on the field was her twin brother. He gazed up at her for a brief time, said nothing, then turned his steed and slowly rode away.
Having witnessed the impossible aerial maneuver Mikaiyu had made in an attempt to save his father, Ryden's eyes had not left her since. He watched as a single feather fell from her wings, and landed at his feet, glancing back up in time to see her tumbling from the sky. He spurred himself forward, running at breakneck speed. If she fell from this height, she would surely die. She was falling like a rock, his heart thudded in dread within his breast, and with the last burst of effort and energy he had left in his fatigued body, he dove forward.
She landed in his arms, and on his head with a heavy thump, hitting him so hard it sent his senses reeling for a time. He lay there in agony for a few moments, then got slowly to his feet, stooping, he picked her up and held her to him. Cradling her unconscious form in a loving concerned embrace, he peered down at the incredible woman in his arms, heart full of love, wonder, and amazement. She was covered in blood and grime from battle, and he had still never seen a more beautiful perfect woman. He doubted she had known she was capable of such power as that which she had unleashed tonight. He lifted his head, and looked around at his subjects, his people. They all wore the same expression, they were all hungry and battle weary, spattered in blood and gore and dirt and sweat. Some leaned heavily on swords they had rammed tip first into the ground, others collapsed where they stood in utter exhaustion.
A cheer rose up suddenly, "We won, god bless the king. The king is dead, long live King Ryden!" It reached a crescendo, echoing throughout the city and far into the night. He smiled, a weary heartbroken smile, yet full of strength, promise, and hope. For now, the battle was over, but the war was just beginning.
~An original work by: Amy L. Gray...aka Chyyari on 04/21/2011~
Her violet eyes narrowed, the catlike slits expanding as she pushed her sense of sight to view the unseen. The dagger in her boot, warmed and began to thrum silently against her flesh. She smiled then into the night, a horrible deadly expression. They were coming in droves, planning to catch her city unaware.
The fools had lit torches; she could see the glow as they raced, twisting and turning through the forest. She hunched down for a fraction of a second, and in one quick flash, she jumped. Body arching as she flew, down, one foot barely touching a limb, fingertips touching for just the barest instant on another as she somersaulted, leapt, and seemed to fly thru the trees. She reached her destination, a mile behind her, in less time than it would have taken a typical human to climb back down from the tree she had perched in.
She stopped in the top of the last tree before the outer city walls. She reached one toned slender arm behind her head and removed her bow, and a single white arrow with a single crimson feather tipped in black attached to the end, from her quiver. She notched the arrow and drew her bow, glanced at the furthest tallest tower. Spying the tiny window that could barely fit a head thru, she fired. The whisper of metal and moonwood pierced the air in a soft hiss as the arrow flew straight and true to her target. A muffled scream shattered the silence, and she grinned in pleasure as her bolt hit home.
"That was my arse, you god forsaken witch," yelled the tall silverhaired male, as he poked his head out of the tiny opening that had just been the portal for delivery of the aching message now protruding from his left buttock.
She laughed, a rich melodious sound that echoed for a moment. Then in a slow, silken, slither her wings slide out from beneath the skin of her shoulder blades. With a sudden snap, she unfurled them, extending them in preparation for the short flight over the city wall. The moonlight glinted off the soft gray feathers that shone with a iridescent silvery glimmer, every one outlined in gold, even the very outer edges and curves of the wings had a light dusting of gold that contrasts beautifully. They were a breathtaking sight, each one spanning seven feet from her shoulder blades to their tip. She sprang into the air, flexing her wings, and caught the current, letting it carry her to the top of the tower she had shot her arrow into. The gentle breeze tugs at her ebony hair as she soars across the midnight sky, her creamy skin glowing with an inner luminescence in the pale moonlight.
Her bare foot, touches the cool marble of the steps set into the back side of the roof as she lands, folding her wings about her like a cloak. Her footsteps are inaudible, not even the soft swish of flesh on stone as she walks with fluid grace down the few remaining stairs into the crowded room within the top of the tower.
She stood in the shadows for a few moments, watching in humor as Ryden grasped the shaft of the sacred moonwood arrow, and with a grunt of pain and a sharp hissing intake of breath, yanked the offending item from his posterior. A grumbling, "Damn woman," was followed by a vigorous rubbing and a quick spellcasting over the injured region. In seconds, a relieved sigh escaped his lips, as the healing spell quickly knitted his torn flesh and repaired the wound.
"I know you are there, my impish beloved, I can always sense your presence, I know when you are near," his deep voice ran through her, sending delightful chills racing over her flesh. She stepped from the shadows, a sheepish grin plastered to her face, as she glided over to him.
As she sent her wings to rest once again beneath her skin, in a quick fluttery rush, he watched as her curvaceous figure was revealed. Sucking in a sharp breath, his throat suddenly dry as his heart twisted painfully in pleasure and a love so deep it ached. 'Damn my father and the high priestesses for banning our union, can't they see our love is godblessed? The blind fools.' His thoughts of the upcoming attack, momentarily pushed to the back of his mind, as he grimaced inwardly in displeasure.
"They are less than an hour away, Ryden. We must complete the preparations. The final traps are all but finished, and the army stands at the ready, I will ride with you at the head of the knights, my prince. The city will not fall, my brother will gain no glory today," her soft voice carried across the room, as she came to stand before him. She reached a hand up, and tenderly caressed his cheek. "We are strong, tonight I am tested by the goddess, I will not fail in my first battle. I would dishonor the gifts she has granted me, I was chosen before birth, she will not let me fail." The strength of her conviction unbreakable, unyielding, and potent in its pure raw power.
"How many did you see, what odds are we up against," he queried, as he absently stroked her silken hair, letting the blue-black strands sift through his fingers.
"Truthfully, we are outnumbered almost five to one, but we have the godess on our side," she turned her back to him, walking to the stairs, her wings already sliding out, preparing for flight to join the men assembled in the courtyard and barracks, readying for the upcoming battle. She could already hear the creaking of oiled leather tunics, the clank of iron and metal, as the armor and weaponry were adorned, the restless pacing of booted feet far below her. The twang of bows being strung, the wooden and metallic soft snicks as quivers were loaded, met her ears as she mentally tallied and assessed the preparation actions of the army; using simply her enhanced sense of sound, another gift of the godesss.
Ryden followed her to the top of the stairway, she paused momentarily and turned to him. A long hungry look of desperate aching, longing, and desire filled his steel gray eyes, a perfect mirror reflection of the same emotion that filled and threatened to spill from her own violet eyes. He reached a trembling hand to her face, and let his fingertips graze gently along the curve of her face. The delicate features drew his gaze for longer than he dared name, her beauty undeniable in its perfection. "My heart is with you, always," he whispered, as she drew a shaky breath, and in one swift movement, snapped open her wings and dove from the tower. And as she drifted nearer to the ground, although he could not hear her, she whispered into the night wind, "And mine with you."
She came to light right in the heart of her king's gathered army, cheers and shouts immediately rising from the men and women gathered. She refolded her wings and turned to the troops assembled. Her voice strong and filled with the power of the goddess, as she spoke. "My brother's army is soon upon us. Do not falter in the face of seemingly overwhelming odds. Yes, his force is larger than our own, and just as highly trained as any of you. You are fighting for your wives, your sisters, your mothers, your children, you fathers, your brothers. You are fighting most of all for yourselves. My brother will take no prisoners on the field of battle, and should you allow your resolve to fail, and the city to fall, he will enslave your families and take from you, all that you hold dear, defile the sacred grove. The goddess is with us. We will not surrender, we will not fail. We will fight to the last man, to the last breath. Stoke the fires in your soul, let your rage and righteous anger give you strength. We will make them pay, in blood and sweat and pain and tears for the misdeeds they have wrought against us for the last two years. Now is our time, we shall prevail."
A loud roar that swelled and shook the foundations of the city, and rattled the walls went up from the men and women before her. She pulled her sword from its sheath at her hip, and with a gutteral yell, raised it aloft in the moonlight. Suddenly, she began to glow, a hot white brightness that threatened to burn the eyes of any who looked at her from their skulls. The most beautiful feminine voice they had ever heard, went through the minds of every single man, woman, and child in the city, "Have faith my children, I am with you." And as the voice fell silent, the light faded from Mikaiyu's form. A stunned and reverent silence went through the crowd, as every single resident of the city simultaneously fell to one knee in awe.
Loud roars and gruff laughter, mingled with coarse profanity and insults were suddenly hurled into the night from right beyond the city walls. Time had passed more quickly than anyone had realized, and now the enemy horde was knocking at the barred gates. With a bloodcurdling shriek an entire regiment of enemy infantry, fell victim to the first of the city's defenses. The screams and howls of pain of the dying and maimed, they impaled themselves and fell to their doom amongst the dozens of hidden holes, bearing five foot long spears of sharpened stakes and sharpened pieces of jagged metal. The regiment behind them, still rushed heedlessy ahead, some using the bodies of their fallen brethen to hop across the deadly traps.
Archers across the top of the city walls began firing into what seemed to be an ocean of the enemy, arrows raining down with deadly accuracy. Bodies falling by the scores, riddled with arrows. Mikaiyu murmured a prayer to the heavens, and drew her bow. Sighting along the arrow, she looked for a commander. Spying a large rough-looking man atop a horse shouting commands, she released the bolt, pausing only long enough to see it pierce his throat; and move to another and another target, firing with deadly precision every time.
In a fountain of arterial blood, mouth working soundlessly now, the enemy commander toppled from the horse. One foot caught in the stirrup, and the frightened animal spooked, dragging the corpse, causing it to slam into other soldiers on the run as the body bounced and jolted and was flung in every direction in the horse's terrifed dash. Finally with a sickenly pop, the leg tore free of the body, and the remainder of the dead man went flying six feet into the air to crash with a heavy dull thud into the side of another enemy knight's horse. The body hit with such force, the man was flung from his saddle and flew head first into the tree his mount had been passing. He hit the tree with an audible crunching of bones, and his body slid lifelessly down the tree, to land in a broken heap at the base of the tree. His head now faced the complete opposite direction, face now hanging down his own back, neck broken upon impact.
The gates were beginning to crack and splinter from repeated blows from the battering ram being beaten against it; sounding very much like a drumbeat of death. Mikaiyu sheathed her bow, and jumped from the side of the wall, landing lightly on her feet 20 feet below. She ran to the gates, shouting commands, heart pumping vigorously in anticipation. Her first real battle, and she reveled in the energy and fire racing through her, sharpening her senses, making her movements more precise, more deadly. "Rally to me men, the gates are about to give way."
She caught a flash of silver out of the corner of her eye, Ryden was beside her. His contigent of knights fanned out behind him, a bloodthirsty glimmer in their eyes, deadly expressions affixed to their faces. In a voice like thunder Ryden boomed, "We will not let them get through the inner gates, let's take this fight to them men, make them remember for generations to come of the day we wiped nearly their entire army from the face of history. Let them feel the fury of our blades."
And as the men gave an earsplitting battlecry, the outer gate gave way in a thunderous crack, and exploded in a shower of wood. Enemy swarmed through the gate like flies, and the two armies came in a deafening cacophony of metal on metal and the thud of flesh meeting flesh. The air grew thick with the stench of sweat, blood, and unwashed bodies. The sharp tang of steel scraping steel, as swords met and sprang back and forth in a deadly dance.
Mikaiyu sprang forward, her sword like a living extension of her body. She plunged her weapon into the belly of the man in front of her, his shriekof pain became a gurgling death rattle, as in one fluid motion she turned the sword on its side and split him from navel to neck. Her sword cleaving him in two, and withdrew the weapon from his body in a mist of blood, gobs of flessh and bits of bone went flying like rain, spattering her in gore. With her opposite hand, she wiped at the blood on her face to clear her sight, leaving crimson smears across her cheeks. She moved like lightning, ducking, weaving, thrusting plunging, every hit either hacking limbs from bodies or a perfect killing blow. The bodies piled up around her, yet she had not a scratch on her. She wore no armor, and the shirt she wore was a gossamer silken covering, concealing only her chest, and tied with a leather thong around her neck, leaving ur midriff and back exposed. In moments, it was soaked in the blood and gore of the enemy troops and clung to her body like a second skin. She whirled and moved, fluid, graceful, deadly; every opponent who faced her fell like trees, hewn to bits in mere seconds. Her blade was a flash of quicksilver, moving so rapidly you could barely track its movements. One instant it was plunging out the back of her foe and in the following fraction of a second, had shorn the head off her next victim.
Ryden, glanced over, his attention grabbed for tiniest time by the glowing of her skin and her sword in the moonlight. His adversary, turned his head, and for a few heartbeats they both stared in awe and the angel of death as she danced her deathsong upon her enemies. Her movements a complete and total perfect combination of fluidity, grace, and destruction. Ryden's opponent dropped his jaw in wonder, looked from her back to Ryden, and threw down his sword, dropping to his knees in surrender. "I cannot hope to come away unscathed should she decide my head would go better severed from my neck, your highness, I have a family," whispered the man in terrified awe, as he fell prostrate in the mud, and offal on the ground.
Ryden called one of his men, giving him orders to take a contigent of men and take any enemies who surrendered away from the fighting, to a safe area. He would be a kind and just ruler, when he ascended to his birthright, the throne.
Mikaiyu began advancing, carving a path out of the city, the men following behind her, fanning out, and charging forward into the enemy. The king, in silver and gold armor, sat upon a midnight stallion, who pawed the earth, snorting, his equine body trembling and tensed, wanting to kick and slash and trample and crush the bodies of his foes, as he'd been trained since birth. With a shout, sword raised high, Ryden's father urged his steed forward, calling his calvary to bear, and they thundered throug the opening Mikaiyu had made. Long swords flashed in the moonlight, as heads went flying in a spray of scarlet, and limbs were hacked and hewn like so much firewood from their owners' bodies.
Mikaiyu lost count of the enemy soldiers who had fallen prey to the voracious appetite of her blade. She leapt over the still dying and twitching corpse of the man she had just slain, her sword slick with warm blood as it ran down her arm when she raised it to strike down the man before her. His head came off with a soft sickening snick of razor sharp blade cutting through flesh, sinew, and bone. She whirled, parrying a thrust aimed at her back, and when she pulled her sword from the man's now cavernous hole in his chest, his still beating heart was pulled from within and impaled upon the tip of her blade. She gave a flick of her wrist, and the heart went soaring through the air. Her ears twitched at a sound far off in the distance, and she leapt into the air, the wings she'd kept held inside her skin exploding into immediate flight as she rushed in urgent dismay towards the sound. Pushing herself to the limit, she flew almost recklessly toward her target. 'No, no," she silently raged, body taut with dismay. She grabbed the dagger from her boot, and tossed it with deadly precision, the flat of the blade halting the arrow's flight. Stretching as far as she could, she knocked the second arrow from the sky, and she screamed in horror as the third arrow found its mark. "Nooooooooo," she shrieked as she grabbed the king falling from his mount before he could hit the ground. An arrow protruded from his chest, blood bubbled from his mouth, spilling down his cheeks and over her hands. She flew him to the top of the city wall, and gently cradled his head on her lap.
"Your highness, I was too late! I am sorry, I have failed you" she sobbed, as his lifes blood spilled on her flesh. Her blood and dirt begrimed face, had two clean trails now running down them, washed clean by the tears that now fell like a gentle rain upon his own face.
He weakly raised one hand and patted her cheek, like a beloved daughter. "Never think that, it is I who have wronged you, and my son. I see that now. Be happy with him. You were brilliant in battle, I have never seen such perfection as I saw in you as you slaughtered our enemy. I am sorry it is your twin we must ask you to fight, forgive me," he wheezed in a dying rattle, as his punctured lung filled with blood.
She whispered against his cheek, as she kissed it tenderly. "You did as you thought best for your people, no kingdom could ever have asked for a better man for a sovereign." And with one last gaspy gurgling breath, Ryden's father, King Solaryc died in her arms.
She threw back her head and wailed at the loss, the ache in her soul. The king had been a great man, a kind and just ruler who truly cared for his people; had even walked unguarded, unafraid thoroughout his city, his kingdom. Talking earnestly and frankly with peasant and noble alike, ensuring the wellbeing of all his subjects. Traits he had passed to his only son and heir, impressing upon Ryden from an early age the principles of respect, honor, loyalty, and love for the people, the country. She laid the king to rest against the marble stones beneath her feet, and howled her loss and anger at the unanswering midnight sky. She looked down at the enemy's army..narrowing her eyes, expanding her sight she found her brother. Giving an horrible twisted smile full of vengenance, promise, death...she flung her arms wide. A white blue light began to envelop her, spreading from the very core of her. The light pulsing thrumming throbbing, a whirl of energy building up within and around her.
The air grew still. She spoke, and the words carried even to her brother seated half a mile away. "Let this serve as a warning, leave my people in peace," and in a sudden rush of heat and sparks, in a blinding burst og white hot light so bright the midnight sky became as clear as day for a few mere seconds, she released the energy.
White blue lances of of lightning and fire, raced through the battlefield below. Every single enemy still fighting that it touched...disappeared in a puff of smoke, as though they never existed. Nothing was left behind to leave any trace that someone had just been standing there; even the corpsess of the enemy dead were obliterated. Seeing this unfightable foe, smashing through their ranks, the men and women who had fought as her brother's army still untouched by here bolts of pure energy turned as one and fled screaming into the night, back the way that had come. In moments, the only opponent left on the field was her twin brother. He gazed up at her for a brief time, said nothing, then turned his steed and slowly rode away.
Having witnessed the impossible aerial maneuver Mikaiyu had made in an attempt to save his father, Ryden's eyes had not left her since. He watched as a single feather fell from her wings, and landed at his feet, glancing back up in time to see her tumbling from the sky. He spurred himself forward, running at breakneck speed. If she fell from this height, she would surely die. She was falling like a rock, his heart thudded in dread within his breast, and with the last burst of effort and energy he had left in his fatigued body, he dove forward.
She landed in his arms, and on his head with a heavy thump, hitting him so hard it sent his senses reeling for a time. He lay there in agony for a few moments, then got slowly to his feet, stooping, he picked her up and held her to him. Cradling her unconscious form in a loving concerned embrace, he peered down at the incredible woman in his arms, heart full of love, wonder, and amazement. She was covered in blood and grime from battle, and he had still never seen a more beautiful perfect woman. He doubted she had known she was capable of such power as that which she had unleashed tonight. He lifted his head, and looked around at his subjects, his people. They all wore the same expression, they were all hungry and battle weary, spattered in blood and gore and dirt and sweat. Some leaned heavily on swords they had rammed tip first into the ground, others collapsed where they stood in utter exhaustion.
A cheer rose up suddenly, "We won, god bless the king. The king is dead, long live King Ryden!" It reached a crescendo, echoing throughout the city and far into the night. He smiled, a weary heartbroken smile, yet full of strength, promise, and hope. For now, the battle was over, but the war was just beginning.
~An original work by: Amy L. Gray...aka Chyyari on 04/21/2011~
