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Her Vengeance

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posted on Jan, 12 2016 @ 11:49 PM
She had lay silent for so long, barely breathing. Her father’s body was atop her, his blood had dripped onto her face and was congealing on her cheek. Listening carefully, she could no longer hear the men’s voices nor their vile laughter, their footsteps had disappeared long ago… Feeling wary, she felt it was time to emerge from her grisly cocoon.

She moved her head from side to side as she slowly angled out from under the bodies, she eyed her surroundings cautiously as she pulled herself from the heap, and she realised with a dull emptiness that she was now alone. Her eyes were wet with tears as they moved over the pile of bodies; she spied the face of her mother, her eyes terrified even as they lay in the silence of death, and her father… he seemed to be at peace with this inevitable fate.

Beside her father lay his sword, steel glinting bright, reflecting the noon-sun of this terrible day, her eyes became hard as she reached down and grasped the weapon by its leather hilt. I will avenge you.

She pulled the bodies away from one another, one by one, and removed the scabbard that sat upon her father’s waist, slinging it over her shoulder as she looked about her at all that remained of the village. Houses lay broken, wood splintered all about as the men had raided and pillaged. The slaughtered remains of the sheep and cattle sat on the dirt road, left to rot in the Summer sun, even the horses weren’t to survive the onslaught. It was wasteful.

Her eyes remained unflinching as she looked out over the village, drinking in every splatter of blood and every lifeless body. She wanted it ingrained into her memory. She would hunt down every last man who did this to her family, to her friends, to her home, and they would pay.

Taking one last glance at her mother’s terrified face, she hardened her heart and set forth towards the horizon; there was a lake not far where she could wash and if the raiders were of any intelligence they would have travelled the same course, there was nothing in any other direction. Smoke in the distance, fire. They hadn’t burned her village; the next township apparently was not so lucky. Lucky. Her eyes glinted with the need for vengeance as her feet hurried her along her path, cleansing be damned, sweat dripped through the dried blood on her face, hygiene be damned, heat and dust attacking her as she jogged determinedly, hydration be damned.

She slowed as the township started to come into view, there was no one in sight bar the inevitable corpse-pile in the centre of the village, no sounds to be heard except the crackling of the charred remains of the buildings, she was too late but she would follow the trail. She must follow the trail.

A sudden groan caused her to whip around sharply, extricating the blade quickly from the scabbard over her shoulder, brandishing it in both hands as she cautiously searched for who had made the sound. A raspy voice spoke from the ruins of a nearby building. “Young miss…”

The blackened husk of a man tumbled from where a doorway once was and she held her blade toward him as he emerged, her eyes echoing the pain and anger that was coursing through her as she demanded answers from him. “Where did the raider filth go!?” Her voice burned through the dust in her throat, the resulting sound alien to her ears.

The burnt man coughed and heaved as he struggled to breathe. “Please miss… the King! Word must reach… him…”

She glared down at the man, her words dripping with malice as she slowly asked her question once more. “Sir. The raiders. Which direction?”

He coughed heavily, blood frothing from his lips. “They are not… raiders… fiends! Monsters… made flesh! The king… must… be informed…” He looked up at her, eyes weeping, closing them briefly as he gathered the last of his thoughts. “North, miss… please… free me.”

Hesitating for but a second as she looked down upon the charred husk of a man, the anger lessening from her gaze, she bowed her head slightly as she prayed for him. “May the eye of your Chosen watch after you in the Otherworld.” And thrust her father’s sword through his skull.

She refused to look back as she continued North, blocking the burnt man’s raspy voice from echoing through her mind, King be damned.

Voices muttered and chuckled in the distance, the raiders were near! She slowed her pace, and calmly walked into the nearby forest and hid amongst the cover of the trees, keeping her breathing centred as she glided smoothly from tree to tree, keeping her eyes on the vague silhouettes in the distance. They would not escape her vengeance.

The night was approaching, first moonrise would be upon the land within the hour... second moonrise would be the time to strike. As the darkness covered the land the images began flashing in her mind; her mother’s terrified face, her ransacked home, the lifeless bodies of her family and friends. The anger rose through her, her blood boiling beneath her skin, her heart pounding loudly in her ears.

First moonrise had come and gone and her anger remained fierce, the light of the second moon began to appear on the horizon… it was time. Small fires were placed around the camp, all was quiet but for the light snores of men and the quiet muttering of the single guard on watch. By the edge of the camp lay a hastily constructed tent. First. Her dark eyes gleamed as they anticipated the justice she would single-handedly pay out.

She stalked quietly, flittering in and out of the shadows as she made her way around the outskirts of the camp to the tent. Gruff snores escaped from within. She closed her eyes briefly as she faced towards the second moon. I beseech you, Xan; may the empathy of my Chosen guide my hand this night.

Time seemed to slow as she whipped open the tent and slashed mercilessly at the man she assumed was the leader of this band. She felt herself glide through the air, almost dancing as she paraded through the slow motion of the world around her, exiting the tent and felling every resting man before they could rise and apprehend her. Gliding, twirling, slashing, slicing; she quietly, violently, made her way to stand behind the oblivious guard, whispering into his ear as she struck her last blow. “Xan guides my arm this night, the Gods have forsaken you. Murderer.”

Her arms began to shake with heaviness as the world seemed to return to normal around her. She fell to her knees as exhaustion began to cloud her senses, her body failing her as she collapsed from her knees and landed severely on her side. She thought she could see the silhouettes of horses on the distant horizon through her wavering eyesight as the sun was rising. She blinked heavily as her vision tried to cloud over, trying to form one last coherent thought before allowing the exhaustion to take her. Mother, papa… with my final act, may you ascend in peace.

posted on Jan, 13 2016 @ 03:03 PM
Nice. Very nice.
Will wait to read more.

posted on Jan, 13 2016 @ 06:04 PM
a reply to: SIEGE

Thank you.

I plan to expand upon this! I have a few ideas in my head.. My partner and I were playing an RPG at the time and I was inspired by my warrior character. Daydreaming up a little story for her as we were questing.

posted on Jan, 20 2016 @ 03:18 PM
Where am I? Lyria blinked her weighty eyes and cringed at the brightness of the sun glaring down upon her. A light sheet had been placed around her upper body and she held it around herself as she shakily climbed to her feet and tried to make sense of the scenario unfolding before her; the sun was high in the sky, the heavens emanating a light rainbow of colours as men attired in the silver and purple of the King’s colours flocked about, tending to the remains of the butchered men and keeping guard on opposite ends of the camp. Shocked, she covered her mouth with her hand. Oh Xan… It wasn’t a dream. The mournful cries of a young girl echoed through her mind and, shaking her head quickly, her eyes hardened as she refused to allow them to weep and she bent down to retrieve the bloodied sword that had once belonged to her father, wiping the blade on the coarse grass before rehousing the weapon.

A heavy hand fell onto her shoulder and, startled, she jumped and shrunk away from the purple-clad stranger before her, staring at him quietly, the momentary fear vanishing from her eyes as they returned to a state of clear emotionlessness. He smiled awkwardly at her, his gaze wavering with uncertainty laced with a silent admiration as he inspected the blood-drenched girl. “By the Gods, girl…” He breathed. “These bandits got what for didn’t they, eh!?”

Lyria stared at the young soldier in front of her, his boyish voice echoing through her mind, the awe in his eyes shining out at her while severed limbs dotted the landscape. It seemed so ridiculous, absurd, bizarre, and without warning she burst into laughter; the emotion of the previous day forcing itself out of her as she emptied her grief and anger out of her soul and into the open world, tears pouring down her face as the throes of laughter transformed into wails of despair, a light faintness coming over her as she struggled to breathe and collapsed onto the young man who was barely able to catch her as she fell.

Antohne looked about wildly for his superior, spying his Commander near the tattered remains of the tent, and yelled out in a high-pitched voice. “Sir! The girl!”

The grizzled Commander casually strode to the young soldier, his hand resting nonchalantly on the hilt of his blade as he stood before the struggling boy and spoke in a fatherly tone. “Lay her down, son.”

He knelt beside the girl and dipped the corner of the sheet into his flask, lightly dabbing away the blood from the girl’s pale face, smiling softly as recognition settled in. “Well I’ll be… if this isn’t Captain Lewell’s daughter... spitting image of his wife she is.” He glanced up at the boy. “Left the King’s service a few years past, went to settle down in… Syosse, I believe.” A look of realisation flashed across his face and his eyes darkened for a moment as he repeated the name of the village. “Syosse…”

Hastily he climbed to his feet, authority radiating from him as he began to rapidly call out orders. “Antohne! Grab two others, follow the girl’s path. Scout carefully, I want all details. Jonathon! Form up, I want a full report on Syosse and all villages in a twenty click radius. Go!”

Shouting to the remainder of his men. “We’re done here, boys. Pile those carcasses and set them aflame! I want to be back at the Castle by tonight’s first moon!”

While his men scurried about him, Commander Rede gently picked the girl up and carried her to the nearby carriage, the horses enjoying a small patch of fresh grass as he placed her on the soft cushions inside and closed the door. Shaking his head softly to himself as he thought of his old friend, Captain Lewell, and wondering how his daughter had arrived here… covered head to toe with blood, the sword of a King’s Captain slung across her shoulders.

“These are strange times, indeed.” He whispered to himself, uneasily, for the land had been in a constant state of turmoil during the past year. He was old enough to remember the time before the Gods’ arrival, the time before magic came to the land. The King was holding a personal vendetta against the new mages, the offspring of the Gods above, and their land - their home - hadn’t been the same since. While the King’s attention was focussed elsewhere, bands of raiders scoured the land, looting and murdering wherever they pleased. Village tithings were down. The common people lived in fear. If he would just forget the mages and focus on the land around him! Rede clenched his jaw and shook his head once more. It is not my place.

He watched as his soldiers began to set the remains of the raiders ablaze and glanced towards to carriage, thinking of the young lass inside, a light amazement flittering around his thoughts as he imagined just how a mere girl… if memory served him correctly, she would be approaching her sixteenth year… Barely a child! How had she managed to utterly obliterate this raider camp? And with such finesse! Surely the king would want to meet with this brave young lady. He closed his eyes as a sudden thought flew into his mind, her father would be proud. Intuition having told him his old friend was likely deceased.

The sun began to shine through the soft rainbow of the heavens, turning the sky a vibrant orange as it started the descent that allowed night to cover the land. Commander Rede nodded at his men as they made their way over to him, to their horses, and they began their journey back to the Castle.

posted on Mar, 13 2016 @ 07:56 PM
a reply to: kaelci

You need to publish this to iBooks and make money! Your a great writer! I would buy it!

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