@Reblod flag
So here I am, rewriting the same story for the…seventh? time. I actually wrote this section a while ago, I just haven't had time to work on it. Since it's Sunday and I want to do anything in my power to avoid doing homework I'll just lose myself in writing I guess.
Anyone please read this and tell me what you think. I'm aware of some grammatical errors but I'll fix those when I'm finished the bloody thing.
Winged Warriors, Chapter One : Sea Salt and Blood (Incomplete)
The ground was mud. Slick and cold and dyed with red. Crimson and brown swirled together like eddies in a river, stirred by the hundreds of feet struggling for purchase.
Louise pushed a clawed hand into the slush. It was almost like liquid ice sucking at her flesh, pulling her down into the Abyss. For a moment she saw it. Dark and airless. The deepest, most terrible places imaginable. No sky. No sun. No wind. Her hand hit solid ground. She drew in a breath of frigid air and pushed herself up. Her knees were soaked and filthy, boots covered in grime and gore. One blood-splattered wing flared outwards as Louise stumbled to her feet. She swung herself around, mud dragging at her legs. A flash of steel sliced through the air where Louise had just been standing. The battlefield roared to life around her. A figure came into focus. Tall with pointed ears that gave them a telling silhouette. The sword darted forward again. Louise lifted an arm and the blade glanced off her bracer. She winced. A sign of weakness. The eltra saw its chance. Steel clashed with aggressive fervour. Louise parried, slowly being pushed back until the mud turned to firm earth and her back met the rough surface of a tree. She ducked and a wing flung outwards. It caught the eltra behind the knees. Not strong enough. The eltra doubled over but was already getting to its feet. Louise jumped on it and dug her metal-clad claws into its throat. It writhed beneath her and, with a final shudder, went still.
She took a moment to gather herself, a luxury granted to her thanks to the distance between herself and the battle. A small glade sat before her made smaller by the many soldiers cutting, stabbing and bleeding. Louise swiped at a gash on her forehead. The eltra’s blood mixed with her own and stinging pain glanced through her body. She gritted her teeth, snarling like a dakren, and marched back into the fray. An unlucky skuira stood in her path. With a beat of her wings she launched herself forwards. The skuira lifted its spear. Louise slipped past the sharp point at the last moment and slashed at her opponent who jumped backwards out of her reach. The dance of death ensued. The music of battle cries and the ringing of metal accompanied their movements. Sharp and deadly but with an undeniable grace. Louise spun and dodged and slashed and kicked. The skuira had a similar rhythm but the weapon in its hand gave it a centre. An advantage. The shaft of the spear cracked over her head and she dropped to her knees as her vision went dark. She blinked away the stars but didn’t see the sharpened head darting down towards her. Not until a burning pain shot through her thigh and she cried out. The spear was yanked out and sent down towards her again.
A rush of wind erupted towards her opponent, crashing into its body and sending it flying across the battlefield. Louise rose, wings spreading in an arc behind her. She lifted her arms into the air, feeling the magic around her and took hold. Cutting blasts of wind pummelled enemy soldiers, stealing their breaths, knocking them from their feet. She heard the whistle of an arrow too late before it buried itself into the base of one of her wings. A bird-like screech escaped her as she felt the blood-rage begin to take hold. Louise shook her head in an attempt to maintain control and spun around to send a blast of air towards whoever shot at her. Without seeing if she hit her target, she charged back into the midst of the fight. She tore at whoever got in her way, careful to avoid her own soldiers.
A sword swung towards her face and she only just dodged it, bending backwards as the razor edge sliced through the air. She lost balance and tipped over, landing in the slush on her back. The sword came down again, aimed at her stomach. It glanced off her armour. Louise felt the energy begin to drain out of her. Or perhaps it was blood loss. She began to push herself up but a boot pushed her back down. Her chestplate creaked under the weight. She couldn’t make out any features of her adversary not that it mattered. Then there were two swords. One darting down towards her and another piercing the enemy’s chest. The lifeless body crumbled to the ground, now replaced by another figure. A hand reached out and Louise took it. Once she was on her feet she recognised who it was. A qelna. Tall and not just by her standards. Dark hair fell in waves to just above his shoulders, always getting in his eyes. The same ones that now peered at her with a warmth that was misplaced in such a setting.
“Not dead yet, Aaryan?” Louise said while still struggling to keep her balance.
“Nope. Can’na say the same to you. Thought you ‘ad gone to the Void.”
“They’ll have to try harder than that.”
“Careful what you wish fer, Commander,” he said with a slight twitch of his lips.
Louise noted the slowly dwindling numbers. Mostly of her soldiers. Looking up, the sky was darkening and splashed with hints of orange.
“They’ll have the advantage soon. It’s time to go.” Louise’s eyes locked with Aaryan’s cool brown ones.
He nodded and darted off.
“Retreat! Retreat soldiers of Dumoros!”
And they did. The noise in the glade was swiftly diminished to the sounds of men frantically pushing through mud and the shouts of victory from the enemy. Louise sneered and turned away to follow her soldiers but she stopped. A shudder went up her spine and she glanced behind her. She met eyes with a scarred eltra who had a certain presence about him. He stared back, something disturbingly akin to recognition flitting across his features but Louise had already breached the tree line before she saw much else.
An unsettling silence fell over the forest as they hurried away from the battlefield. The heavy, laboured breaths of the soldiers filled the air. Some were struggling to keep up, being dragged along by their fellows. Those were the ones who were leaving considerable blood trails in their wake. Louise noticed that she was among them. As the adrenaline of battle faded and was replaced by the biting wind of early autumn, the heat of wounds flared until she wasn’t sure if she could take another step. Still, she marched onward, eventually taking the lead. Another qelna appeared at her side. He said nothing and only walked with her for a while. Just then, a bird called from above. Louise paused and looked up. She felt some tension leave her at the sight of the great golden-brown eagle that soared towards them. It perched in a nearby tree and chirruped at them.
“Ignavess. Where, pray, were you this entire time?”
He chortled and bounced up and down. It wasn’t a playful movement. It was panicked. Ignavess tilted his head to the sky. Louise sucked in a pained breath. An arvin, one of her own kind, was approaching. She would have no choice but to confront it, to buy her soldiers some time. She turned to the qelna who was watching her expectantly. He had the dark skin and features of his people but many scars and forlorn, pale brown eyes that told of horrors best left in memory.
“An arvin. I’ll head it off. Take the men somewhere safe and tend to the wounded.”
The qelna, Enar, inclined his head. “Yes, commander. But are you sure you need to go? Our enemy isn’t following us. Perhaps the bird will keep its distance, too.”
“When has an arvin ever resisted picking a fight with me?” Louise sighed. She flared her wings, causing a wave of light-headedness that she ignored in favour of lifting herself into the air. Enar turned away and began shouting orders. The soldiers continued into the undergrowth. Louise took a while to get herself above the canopy. Every movement was pure agony. Blood poured from the wound in her thigh and crimson blurred her vision. Her muscles, strained from hours of endless fighting, ached in protest. The freezing cold winds of a dying summer washed over her, stronger now without the trees sheltering her. Still, she could make out a shape in the distance drawing closer with unnatural speed. Two shapes. She heaved another sigh. This one had a phoenix too. Soon, Ignavess had joined Louise in the air watching the approach of the other arvin.
“I know I’ve lived for only a century but…I’m getting too old for this shit,” she muttered in Fletan to her companion.
Ignavess gave her a sidelong look and, in a flash of feather and flame, revealed his true form. That of a giant golden firebird whose wingbeats thumped to the rhythm of her heart.
Aren’t we all? His deep, warm voice cascaded through her mind and she felt the pain ebb away ever so slightly.
Her own wingbeats strengthened and she steadied herself, reaching for her spear but finding it gone. She cursed and instead readied her talons as the enemy arvin began darting down towards her. Ignavess let out a bone-shuddering cry and crashed into the other phoenix. The arvin was close now. Close enough for Louise to realise just how young he was. Barely of age with dark brown, almost black wings, speckled with bright orange. All rich, youthful colours filled with life. Life Louise had no choice but to take away. His honey-coloured eyes smouldered with hate. So much that it made Louise’s skin crawl.
He let out a screech as their talons locked together. The impact stole Louise’s breath and she gasped for air as the pain in her body heightened to unbearable extremes. The arvin’s claws raked at her face, only barely catching her skin and leaving faint marks that were already welling with blood. They screeched against her chestplate and tore at her tunic. His movements were wild and filled with rage. A blood-rage. Had he even been trained? Had he not been taught how to control his barbaric nature? Why was he here? Louise used all her strength to shove him away and dove. He followed her with outstretched talons and wings tucked into his sides. Louise braced herself and threw out her wings. The air of her movement dragged at them and it felt as if they would be torn straight off. With one powerful wingbeat, Louise shot upwards, above the young arvin who had yet to catch himself. She reached out and grabbed one of his armoured wings, yanking him so that he lost his balance and hung suspended in the air. His other wing flapped uselessly as he screamed curses in their native tongue. Louse dragged her talons through the wing, her feet pushing at the arvin’s torso. She jerked it one way then the other until she heard a snap and a cry. One from her opponent and another from the phoenix who was struggling in Ignavess’ grasp.
“Traitor! You’ll Fall for this! You’ll fly in Estis until the end of time!” The arvin screeched. Louise pulled him closer, one hand closing around his neck. Fear flashed in his eyes. Louise’s talons dug into the soft flesh of his throat. Blood gurgled around them and she watched as the bright colour of the arvin’s eyes paled into white as did his wings and hair. She kicked him away from her and watched him fall into the trees below.
The other phoenix, eyes glued to the falling body of its companion, let out one final wail before it turned to ash in Ignavess’ claws. Louise shuddered, eyes threatening to droop shut. Ignavess appeared beneath her and she allowed herself to drop onto his back. The heat from his body warded against the stinging chill of the darkening evening and she struggled to stay awake.
“We must find the soldiers,” she mumbled into his feathers.
Yes. They will be waiting for you, he replied.
“Did you see where they went?”
No but the eltra are gone.
Ignavess began soaring over the trees, scanning for any sign of life.
Louise lifted her head and peered over Ignavess’ shoulder to the horizon. The sun was no longer visible and soon Solum, the sun-chaser, would disappear over the other side of the world as well. His dark shadow was still clear in the dying light. Louise suppressed a shudder and averted her gaze. It always felt wrong to stare at the moons knowing full well that, at their cores, they were ancient beings of unimaginable power. Ignavess seemed to catch onto her thoughts.
You know, in many beliefs across Meidas, the moons are benevolent gods. Meaning they’re not planning to smite you where you stand.
“I know just not in mine.”
Ignavess chortled. Your beliefs? You don’t have beliefs. You have always scorned the gods.
“At least I believe. I believe in Synnas and the Void. You’re the one who takes every chance to mock everyone else’s faiths.”
Well if the gods are so great why do they hide out there in their precious little Void?
“I am not having this argument with you again.”
You love this argument.
“Not when I’m bleeding out in the middle of a war.”