Baleful Wings (Dragon's Dogma Fanfiction)

Chapter 31: Equanimity

Which is worse, the thrusting of your blade into the gullet of man - or when you pull the cold steel from their bodies, now drenched red in their blood?
But there's always more than that. There's always more than just blood that spills from their body. Something thick, with a gentle blackened texture.. Arya stared into the space in front of her, the sky ebbing and flowing like a lake.
"Tis nary an easy task, is it, Arya? When the bones break, you can't stop there."
She opened her eyes, staring into the night sky. "If the blade is sharp enough, you don't feel the bones break. They just grind against your sword," she said to herself, staring at the night sky slightly disappointed at the time she awoke. "I hope I'm not tired during the day." She laid in silence, wondering whether talking to Ceres would be better than talking to herself or the same thing entirely.

There was no moon tonight. In fact, the moon is only seen once a month in Gransys. With nothing more to gaze upon in the blackness of night, Arya closed her eyes, hoping to steal a bit more rest before the sun arose.
The air whipped around her.
-whoosh!-
Immense force slammed into the ground. Arya rolled to the side, switching her hips under her. She looked around quickly, her sword was nowhere to be found. In the moonless night, a cape danced with one mighty swing after another. Arya dodged each blow, swaying backward easily without her armor on. Against the ruthless attacks, she stepped back and planted her feet into the dirt. Another whip sounded in the air, Arya quickly advanced forward in a swift stride. In what would've been a mighty downward blow, an arm fell directly into her grasp. She lowered her hips, using that momentum to flip her attacker over her shoulder.
"G-agh!"
He choked under the immense pressure she dealt, digging her shoulder onto his chest as she landed on top of him. The attacker scooted back frantically. As he reached for his weapon, Arya snatched it away and dug her foot into his throat.

"H-how?!"
"An attack in my sleep. Is that the best you can do, Caellach?"
He struggled against her, barely breathing, "D-damn it! How did you --?"
Arya leaned forward, grinding her foot against his jugular tendons. She felt every bit of soil roll against his neck, "I've fought many a Goblin, Ser Caellach. I'm well-used to the swing of a club." She gave his throat a final press before casually crossing her arms and turning away. "I've completely memorized the timing between such desperate attacks. I knew that if I planted my feet you would swing for my head, going for the kill." She spoke rather triumphantly while he coughed and gagged.
Caellach held his neck, glaring at her with hateful eyes. "... There's no way you could've come up with this so quickly.."
"Since laying eyes on you, ser, I've been prepared for the instance that you would attack me."
Caellach clenched his fist, "Dogged bitch! So you've already contemplated killing me!"
Arya returned his glare apathetically, "You didn't honestly expect me to blindly follow a troupe of unknown men into the wilderness, did you?"
"So.. you've.. been studying me this entire time. You've been studying all of us!" He scrambled to his feet incredulously, "Even.. even ser Edward?!"
Arya returned his question with silence.
He chuckled, "Typical of a wench what speaks Dragontongue."
"Wait.. what? He spoke--"
"In Dragon-speak! And you let it live, besides!"
Arya picked up his hammer, "You've grown so mad with killing, that you hate to see aught walk away from battle," she dropped the heavy black weapon at his feet. "That like of insecurity, I've sworn never to become."
Caellach gritted his teeth as his weighty hammer dug into the ground, "And what if they come back for revenge, after they surrender?"
"Then I'll best them every time," Arya turned to walk away. "The next time you call me a wench will result in your death, ser Caellach." She walked away proudly, deeply hoping he wouldn't have a clever retort.
"Maker's beard, acting tough is quite tiresome," she said to herself.

"Ser Arya! Wake up!" She opened her eyes suddenly. Something about the threat of wolves or giant spear-wielding lizards made waking up incredibly easy. Ser Lyon gestured for the others to continue forward, "Ser Arya. The Shadow Fort's been attacked, we aught proceed posthaste!"
She quickly fastened her chestplate and donned her armored gauntlets and boots, before mantling herself with the black cape Edward gave her. She noticed her sword and shield had been put back in their original places. She grabbed them quickly and left their campsite with Lyon.

Ser Lyon seemed to glide instead of run, partially due to his flowing black cape, but also to his long and stilty legs. Compared to his long strides, Arya almost felt like she was marching. However, traversing the lands was much easier than before, she shifted between the drab greyish brown trees, keeping her footing against the ash and twig - ridden ground.
She was familiar with the Shadow Fort, its wooden door, fortified by metal bars, surrounded by stone and boulders. This would be the first time she actually entered it though, the thought was both exhilarating, and anxious. There was a strange smoke about the area in front of the garrison, and the trees were just about dead surrounding the gate.
Two Gran Soren guards twisted at cranking levers, the steel door opening slowly but surely.
"Thank the Maker! Even more reinforcements." One of them exclaimed.

Entering the Shadow Fort, there was a large empty space, Arya assumed that it may have hosted a city at one point. The ground was rocky, riddled with a few large stones, surrounded by trees and mountains on both sides. In the center, was an enormous stone castle. The portcullis was incredibly tall, with an imppressive set of stairs leading to it. Next to the steps though, was a collection of Gran Soren knights speaking with the rest of the Black Capes. They were strangely huddled around a massive hole in the ground, it looked like a pitfall.
"Goblins... so many of them. Two hobbs short of an army, 'twas," the knight in charge was brunneous in tone, and already quite damaged, like he'd seen quite a battle not long before they arrived.
Edward grimaced, "Goblins are quite the nuisance, but to amass an army and lead an organized attack. 'Tis baffling.. and this, um, tunnel, Ser Robert?"
"A member of the Wyrm Hunt came to assist us. He and his troupe of myrmidons agreed to sneak into the fort and open the gate from the inside."
Edward thumbed his chin, "A member of the Wyrm Hunt? What in blazes would they be doing here?"
Another one of the knights approached Edward, "Ser. We just received word that Ser Acoste and his men are all dead."
Edward's eyes widened, "Acoste!? He was one of our finest warriors, how could a band of Goblins kill not only him, but his men as well?"
Ser Robert folded his arms, "Acoste is the one who falconed the distress message.."
"They've got something dastardly up their sleeve, Ser Edward," said Franz, now looking worried.
With a loud and thunderous boom, and iron gears clanking atop, the enormous gate opened and the screams of Goblins sounded through.
Ser Robert looked over eagerly, "He made it!"
As he spoke, a group of Hobgoblins came through the entrance, some jumping over the stone gate.
Edward drew his sword, "You go inside. We'll take care of things out here."