Of Bloodshed and Grief Pt1
The Saint of Vengeance held so tightly to the hilt of his sword, blood splattered across the arch of his cheek. The elven man laid dead at his feet, body crumbled in on itself. Felix wondered for a moment how old he was; it was hard to tell with the elves, but by the lack of wear on his hands he had to assume no older than fifty.
That was what the world had been reduced to. The battleground gone quiet, a sob spilled from him, wracking his body with hundreds of years of grief.
“When will it be over?” he asked the air, the bodies in laying in the mud, the blood on his hands, none of them answered his plea. A red smoke wrapped around like an embrace, it poured in through his mouth, seeped under his skin.
Consuming. Euphoric.
Just enough to stave off the grief for another day.
She rode the horizon as if it was only for her. She wore that crimson smoke as if it was clothes and weapon both. Her eyes were sliver gemstones set by the elven gods themselves. She was the death the lament spoke of, Felix was sure of when he saw her. The horse was larger than any human stead, it made the woman look larger than she was. Looming over the soliders that rode at her side, Felix shifted, blade pointed towards her now.
“Dear Saint,” her words were honey to his ears, balm to his aching soul. Without his command the sword began to lower. “There is no need for violence between us, you have already done as I desired.”
A sea of bodies lay between them, mangled and bloody, elven and human alike. It only took a moment to realize that none besides the Saint had survived the battle, that the bodies stacked high had been indiscriminate.
“What did you do--” he knew what she must have done, knew that he would lose this fight should he choose to engage it.
‘RUN’ He was not sure if he had thought it, or if the wind had carried a sound that only sounded like their voice begging him to go. But it did not matter, he turned on his heels and called out to the air.
“Corvin!” He shouted, voice carrying through the valley until it found the half-blood who had been waiting.
Guinevere stood in the entryway to the lower dormitory, watching as the children slept. Lai on silent feet moved up to stand next to her, dressed in simple white robes.
“It is not fair,” the vampire muttered to her companion.
“I am truly sorry, Lady Hollow.” Lai’s gaze also drifted off to the orphans who slept peacefully, rain beating against the glass panes.
“This is the third time,” venom crept into her voice, “The third Titan-damned time that she has gone off and gotten herself-” she covered her mouth with her hand, trembling. A sob was caught back from the hand that kept it tightly locked behind her lips.
When her composure was regained she took a trembling breath, rage still apparent in every line of her body. “She is so godsdamn stupid. I am never letting her leave this school when she comes back.”
Lai was silent, unsure what to say. She reached out and took one of Guin’s hands into her own, squeezing tightly.
“Felix will see her home to you,” she promised, though they both knew the sentiment was hollow. “He will try.”
The sound of more children coming down the hall silenced them both, their grief could not be allowed to ruin what had been built. Guin knew better then to allow a lost battle to be the end of the war.
Calliope Zar’ath the Second stood overlooking the smoldering lands that was New Dalvath, watched as the fire elementals moved the stone to build her new palace amid the flames. She was queen of these lands, as her mother had been, and her mother before her and as her daughter would be after her. Her family had shaped these lands, brought order to the efreet who only knew cruelty, no grace in the way their lash landed. A decade or so more and they would be ready. “Mother?” Her daughter's voice broke her thoughts, turning so quickly to face her child that the fire like pattern of her dress almost seemed to flicker like a true flame. “Yes, Illara?” Calliope said sweetly, ushering her daughter to her. The child no older than six toddled towards her mother, quickly being scooped up into her arms. Hair the color of dying embers laying across her mother’s shoulder. “Cici said you are leaving.” “Only for a time.” Calliope knew her daughter was overly dependent on her presence, she had lit parts of the nursery on fire when she left last time. “You must promise to be good for Cici while I am gone, little ember.” “You said not to make promises I cannot keep,” the little girl protested, arms crossed over the narrow space of her chest, lips curled into a pout. “That is true,” she relented. “But you must learn how to make promises and keep them, it is important for a ruler to learn to be true to her word even when it is difficult.” The little princess seemed to relent to that, she already knew how important it was to live up to her mother’s expectations. She laid her head back down, content to be with her awhile longer. "Thank you, my ember,” Calliope said as she turned back towards the view of her lands.
Calliope Zar’ath the Second stood overlooking the smoldering lands that was New Dalvath, watched as the fire elementals moved the stone to build her new palace amid the flames. She was queen of these lands, as her mother had been, and her mother before her and as her daughter would be after her. Her family had shaped these lands, brought order to the efreet who only knew cruelty, no grace in the way their lash landed. A decade or so more and they would be ready. “Mother?” Her daughter's voice broke her thoughts, turning so quickly to face her child that the fire like pattern of her dress almost seemed to flicker like a true flame. “Yes, Illara?” Calliope said sweetly, ushering her daughter to her. The child no older than six toddled towards her mother, quickly being scooped up into her arms. Hair the color of dying embers laying across her mother’s shoulder. “Cici said you are leaving.” “Only for a time.” Calliope knew her daughter was overly dependent on her presence, she had lit parts of the nursery on fire when she left last time. “You must promise to be good for Cici while I am gone, little ember.” “You said not to make promises I cannot keep,” the little girl protested, arms crossed over the narrow space of her chest, lips curled into a pout. “That is true,” she relented. “But you must learn how to make promises and keep them, it is important for a ruler to learn to be true to her word even when it is difficult.” The little princess seemed to relent to that, she already knew how important it was to live up to her mother’s expectations. She laid her head back down, content to be with her awhile longer. "Thank you, my ember,” Calliope said as she turned back towards the view of her lands.
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