Fires blazed through the darkened sky, cutting through the smoke and ash. Faded cries grew distant as the hours passed, drowned out by the maniacal laughs of dark men drunk on the throes of victory. To call them barbaric would be an understatement as they attacked anything that seemed to move. Bringing torches in hand, the buildings in the city were pillaged and burnt to ashes. Those that could use magic tore down statues of hunters and walls of enchanted stone. Inhabitants were struck down without discrimination, the rich, poor, children and adults alike. Not even the innocent deer survived or the fierce mythical creatures that fought along with their valiant partners. To any traveller, the village could very well be mistaken for hell, reeking completely of death. Yet in the wake of the destruction, life still remained vigilant inside the ruins of a burned building.
Silver eyes flashed open as a young twelve-year-old girl rose from the ashes, weary and faintly searching for threats. As she stepped out onto the blackened street a sharp pain cut into her leg, causing her to stumble. Catching her balance and steadying herself against a lampost she surveyed the carnage before her eyes, drawing tears and emotions for the place she had once called home. Memories flashed as she remembered the moments spent in the previously serene forest-city. The people whom she once danced with, who she laughed with, now lay dead sprawled somewhere in the ruins
Her mother.
The thought dashed to the forefront of her mind spurring her into action. Anguish and urgency became one as the girl limped down the street. Memories of her childhood continue to play through her mind as she headed towards her house, the headquarters of the Venatores de Coven. Once she almost stopped to stare at the location of her old schoolhouse, twice to shed a tear at the lifeless form of an old friend. Yet she did not stop moving, no matter the pain.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours as she crossed the city but to her relief, the Covens mansion came into view, appearing as though it was the only building that was still standing.
The sight of the crescent banner and Aldenian flags spurred the girl to increase her pace.
She did a double-take as she noticed broken windows, burnt flora and the crooked door, the front entrance leaking dispelled shield enchantments.
Carefully slipping past the door, the girl slid through the dully lit foyer. Passing at the staircase she acknowledged a fallen Venatrix warrior, closing the women's eyes before arming herself with the warrior's dagger.
She quickly whispered a prayer of passing, sliding the knife into an attack position, slowly continuing up the stairs through the house. Hallway lights flickered— poorly illuminating shattered vases, ancient books torn apart at the spines, and ruined paintings.
As she passed more fallen Venatores the gruesome hallway battle became evident; blood staining the carpet, close-ranged arrows sticking out of the villians, walls and Venatrix alike; damage from inaccurate spells scarring the walls.
Flames smouldered and flickered over a trio of charred Venatrix, the three of them struck down in front of the girl's target location.
Swallowing her fear, her hand turned the knob to the door, trembling like a leaf in the wind. Moments later her cry rang through the entire house as she dropped to her knees in front of her mother.
Tears ran freely as the knife dropped to the floor, the grief-stricken girl holding the face of her last known relative, her salty tears falling off the face of the twelve-year old and mixing with the already blood-stained tunic.
She ran her fingers over the dozen blade wounds running up and down her mothers torso before moving the shock filled eyes shut. The wall clock chimed twelve as she finished weeping, taking the customary circlet from her mother's head and placing it on her own— slipping to the side as it was too big.
"My weapon" The barely audible murmur caused the girl to jump, falling backwards onto the floor. Recollecting herself, the girl slowly picked herself up to fully take in the Covens briefing room, noticing the wounded Venatrix in the corner. "I need—" the girl scrambled over and held the older woman's hand encouraging her to continue speaking. "Weapon." she repeated. Blood trickled from her mouth as she eyed a bow just out of reach. The girl picked up the bow inspecting it before placing it into the lap of the other. The eyes of the wounded one showed relief and comfort at the touch of her weapon— in her grasp one final time.
"It's a fine bow." At the girl's praise, the fallen Venatrix nodded her appreciation before closing her eyes.
"You mu... st hunt" she struggled, gasping for air "man... circle scar" the Venatrix grasped the girl's hand tighter as she began to rasp "stop him!" The girl looked upon the other
"Let me heal you sister," she said, frantically looking at the Venatix's medical belt. Weakly the Venatrix grabbed the young girls small yet well-calloused hands. In a struggle she pushed a cold and wet-feeling metal into them. She then patted her bow smiling.
"My time is... now. Wounds too.. deep." the dying woman rasped quietly before becoming panicked again. "Promise me! T-tell me you will... stop him...." With a sad look, the girl nodded sitting down with her back to the wall— the woman smiling once more and closing her eyes for good.
The girl blinked at the blood-covered moon pendant firmly grasped in her hand. Then looking back at the still form of her mother the girl replied, a new look of determination now flushing her face.
"I promise."
YOU ARE READING
Battle in the Arid Mountains
FantasyEvil has always existed throughout the reach of the Continent but this time dark forces have taken a different form. This time everything seems to be connected. As if there was one man pulling the strings of chaos and forcefully setting fate in moti...
