Three Broken Kingdoms-Book 1 of the Lost Continent (Completed)

Chapter Twenty-Four, Part Three: The General

Myra's Point of View

The evening of the third night, she snuck away from training the other valkyries and found the only sparring partner who could ever make her sweat: Viktoria. For so long she had been aching to get in the ring herself after watching everyone from the novice elves to the best of the valkyries fight with swords and bows and spears and daggers. It was such a relief to finally pull out her twin dragon swords.

Myra let her instincts take over from the moment the first blows began. Oh, how she loved this-to become wind and death and flame. Yes, this was what she was made for, to war, to become a flurry of swords. The pressure of the past two weeks faded away to steel, the pain of missing Kestra dulled slightly.

This-this whirlwind of death and steel and fire was where she belonged. Her blood sang to her, her heart beat in tune to the clash of steel, her soul begged for more and more and more. The same stress had lined her friend's face, and now faded away until they became one with steel, part of a dance that only they knew.

They went on for hours, until sweat they did not notice covered them both. Neither could win decisively, but each came close at times, torn clothing and dried blood from small scratches. At last they stopped, tired and weary but somehow more alive and awake then they had been before, feeling as though they could take on Medea's army alone, without their plans and armies and numbers.

Taking deep, panting breaths, she smiled at her friend.

"You're getting sloppy," she accused Viktoria. Of course, the queen had certainly not, but it was their custom to insult one another.

"You're not too good yourself," she replied.  Liar. She lightly punched her shoulder. Myra retorted: "I suppose you're jealous of my brilliance." She let out a dramatic sigh. "Of course you are." Queen Viktoria of the War Crown poked her tongue out, not merriting her general's comments worth a response. Silence fell over them, a heavy cloud aided by exhaustion.

"They say Medea's armies will march tomorrow." The queen said at last.

"I know," she replied.

"Good luck out there," Viktoria said quietly.  Never a goodbye, no those were too hard with battle looming over them for months at a time.

"Good luck to you too," she replied. "Fight like the wind."

"Fight like the wind," her queen whispered.

     -------------

Jasper

Jasper Merson had spent the past three days with a bow and blunted arrows in his hands, working late and hard in the hope of warding off the nightmares. In the three or so years he had been training in the rebellion, archery had always been his focus. Arrows did more damage than swords in many of the rebellion's operations, and good shooters were essential. He'd continued it on whilst part of the queen's army, though he had had to pick up swordplay as well.

Again and again, he would shoot, standing beside the valkyries. He was good too; good enough that although he never really managed their casual trick shots: arrows impaling each other, arrows in a perfect ring or perfect shots blindfolded, he almost always hit the bullseye, had caught the other archers giving him approving nods and surprised glances. They didn't anticipate a seventeen-year-old human to be able to shoot decently, much less near perfect.

Every day, he went for targets that were further and further away, until he started to ride and shoot. Maybe one day he could do one of those tricks that he found so arrogant. Like the person that shot an arrow onto an apple on the other's head. When he told Myra, she had given them a grilling and demoted them both.

In that moment, she had reminded him of the first person who had ever taught him to shoot: Gareth, one of the older rebels. The thought hit him so quickly he couldn't stop it, or block it. Gareth. How he had tried to forget that name. Gareth, who had tried to buy the others to run a chance when the soldiers came. No one had, of course, but he had nearly gotten there.

If it had been Gareth by the bell he wouldn't have hesitated.

Gareth had been one of the first to die, and had the most rage in his eyes when he beheld Jasper. The memory was like a punch to the gut. He closed his eyes, trying to block it, and shot in a quick succession, harder and full of pain. The thuds came from the air, and even with his speed, they still hit the bulls-eye. Again and again, until he realised Myra was watching him, her sapphire eyes carrying a hint of admiration. His fingers relaxed on the bow just slightly.

"Who taught you to shoot?" She asked.

"A few people. From-from the rebellion." She stopped talking about it, and he wondered if the pain had shown in his eyes.

"I want to fight tomorrow," Jasper said suddenly.

"You're useful," she told him flatly.

"Does that mean you'll let me fight?"

"No. It means that I can't let you go out and risk your life."

"You're useful, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Then why do you fight?"

"Because fighting is how I make myself useful."

"No it isn't. Strategy is."

"I fight to inspire my warriors. If I do not they think me a coward and would not follow my orders anyway. You're fighting will not inspire anyone, Jasper. It will do the opposite."

"I want to fight." He argued.

"You're too young anyway . Talk to me in a few months."

"I've been fighting since I was fourteen years old."

"And that is bad enough. We do not need you out there, and I do not send seventeen-year-olds to fight."

"So a few months is going to stop me?"

"Sure it is. It's stopped dozens of valkyrie novices clamouring to prove themselves in this war. Same with plenty of elfin enchanters, I'm sure."

"Kallians get conscripted at sixteen."

"If I invited their policies into Miras, then you would have been executed ten times already. It's selfish to want to fight when you could be so much more valuable to your beloved rebellion by remaining safe and sound."

So the matter was settled.

When Jasper turned to put his bow away the blast of the war horn echoed through his bones.

"They're here," Myra rasped.

The war would begin now.

What do you think of the chapter overall? Do you think it's better split into parts or should it be put together?