I needed to write this to preserve my sanity and otp - the world needs more Helvitas shippers
***
“Harper, no-” I whisper. “No- please- ”
I promise I will keep you safe. The vow I made Zacharias. The vow that had been for Harper too.
I will not lose him.
But the blood flows too quickly. I cannot stop it, I cannot save him. It is impossible.
The Commandant, traitorous bitch that she is, watches me, basking in my suffering. But her training manages to take root in my mind yet. And impossible is one word that has never existed in the world of Keris Veturia.
The pain in my side pierces through me anew as a second dagger digs into my hip. Still, my power should be enough to sustain both me and Harper.
I have already been broken, if he is lost to me, I will be nothing at all.
Avitas’s song floats quickly to my lips. I venture into his soul, more deeply than before, sharing his pain, feeling his love in its purest form.
Waves of exhaustion pour over me, and still I sing. I sing of his past, I sing of his hopes for the future, our future. I sing until my voice is cracked and broken and I can sing no more. Don’t you dare die on me now.
Stupid bleeding orders, Shrike.
The light continues to seep from his eyes in time with the unending flow of blood from his chest.
“Emifal Firdaant, Harper,” I lower my gaze to his. “May death claim me first. I will be damned if I let the love of my life get there before me. Emifal Firdaant.”
He reaches out his arm with striking swiftness. I look up to see one of the Commandant’s daggers clenched in the palm of his hand. His smile is weak, voice low as he whispers, “Helene, don’t lower your guard.”
The deadly white hue of his face has begun to color, scarlet blood pooling on his chest, but flowing no longer. And his reflexes and overprotectiveness are as perfectly irritating as ever.
“Skies, Avitas, shut up.” I press my lips to his and the world is right again.
“Poor little girl. If not for your worthless love, you may have lived yet.” Keris approaches us, dagger in hand, murder in her eyes. And something else, something shimmering right on the surface of all her walls. Disappointment?
It does not matter. For when I tell Keris of her mother, when Mirra of Serra brings steel to her throat and grants her the same end as my family, I am sure she will bite her words forevermore.
***
The formalities that come with the aftermath of the war are made bearable with Avitas by my side as Shrike. And though I am occupied with my duties on many nights, there are others when Harper and I spend much time together occupied by… other things.
***
“Happa!” Zacharias greets Avitas with an adorable grin and his first word.
“Zacharias, you know Auntie Empress, right?” I glance at Harper. “He calls me ba.”
“Whatever you say, Sheep sir.”
***
“Hel, is that a bleeding smile?” Avitas and I dance through the streets of Nur, eye to eye, his warm hands placed firmly on my hips.
“Well, you dance… not unpleasantly.”
“I remember you saying something similar about my smell.” His green eyes shine in the moonlight, lips quirking up in a smile.
“Harper, I would… I am with child.” Skies, that was excruciating. “I just wanted to bleeding tell you before my stomach blew up to the size of a Skies forsaken cannon ball.”
“Hel…”
“Raising Zacharias is a grand task of itself, a child will only complicate things. Our duty to the Empire must come first.”
The amount of passion he puts into kissing me upon my saying the words is dizzying.
“Skies, Hel, this is probably the first time in my life that I’ve received a pleasant surprise. Don’t be moronic.” And then, for the first time since I met him, he truly laughs, hearty and beautiful and clear, and so very full of life.
Elias:Helene and I have been through too much together for me to see her bleeding die. I vow by blood and bone that I will keep her safe.
Avitas: Nah bro. You had your chance, now it’s my turn. I will protect Helene with my life. Emifal Firdaant.
The entire AEITA fandom: Harper, you’re our baby and we love you, but we’re the only ones who can actually protect Helene. Don’t worry girl, we’ll ask (*ahem*) beg Sabaa to keep you safe.
Helene: I don’t need anyone to protect me.
Also Helene *gets all her hopes and dreams ripped out from under her*
If anyone actually understands this, let me know. I wrote it, told myself it was total nonsense and that I would never post it… and then posted it. #likeEliasVeturiuswould
Helene:Avitas came over to my place for the first time yesterday.
Laia:Really, what happened?
Helene *pulls out phone to show Laia*: Well, he texted me and said, “Lets start dating”.
Laia:Wait, weren’t the two of you already going out?
Helene:NO! Anyway, I corrected his bleeding idiotic grammatical error by replying, “LET’S start dating”.
Laia:Oh no.
Helene:And then he got all weird and said, “You’ll really come with me on a date? You haven’t already changed your mind?” So I guess for some reason he thought I’d agreed to start dating him, and I didn’t want to bum him out so I told him, “Seriously ill come”.
Laia *laughing nervously*: How exactly did he end up at your house?
Helene:Well, about a minute after that, he showed up at my place with a bucketful of chicken noodle soup and trashy magazines that I’m sure you’d love. He told me to stay in bed and rest, so I just let him do my housework while I ate soup.
Laia:Uh, Helene, didn’t you find that kind of strange? Like there might have been some sort of miscommunication?
Harper walked through the front door of their small home, taking in the sight of his wife completely butchering a loaf of bread in an attempt to slice it.
“Skies, Helene, what in the hells are you doing?”
She muttered something under her breath about bleeding overseas merchants and their idiotic ideas. The remark was followed by a stream of colorful curses.
“You’d ought to be one of those bleeding merchants, seeing as you curse like a sailor.” Avitas approached her, deftly grabbing the knife from her hand and sweeping her into a kiss. “That should shut you up.”
Even though they had been married for a year, Helene still marveled at the passion of their kisses, the wonderful knowledge that she was his and he hers.
Though she certainly couldn’t tell him that, lest his head blow up to the size of a pregnant woman’s bleeding uterus.
“The whole Skies-forsaken city will be attending the Moon Festival tonight. Not to mention Ilyaas and Laia are coming to visit. And the bleeding merchants couldn’t do their bleeding job, and deliver the bleeding flour.”
“I hope the bleeding flour isn’t too red from the bleeding merchants bleeding on them all day.” Avitas chuckled. “I do hope I do not start bleeding too.”
“Honestly Avitas, you really are a-”
“Bleeding idiot? No need to say any more. I know you too well.”
“I was going to say “amazing”, but if you don’t want the complement, then fine.”
“I take “bleeding idiot” as a complement so long as it comes from you.” He had moved closer to her now, whispering the words into her ear.
A shiver of delight ran through her.
It was amazing how, of all the circumstances, of all the possible lives, she had been given this one. She could have been made a soldier from an empire far away, constantly fearing for her life. Or a slave, destined to never take a true breath of freedom. But the Skies had granted her a life with the man she loved, a peaceful life. One in which she could visit her family and friends as often or as little as she liked. And when all else failed her, she could simply sit at home and bake bread.
She turned away from Avitas, stealing back her knife and continuing to slice the loaf that sat before her. Her demeanor had become calmer, resolute.
“Now bleeding get back to work with festival preparations. And if any of your thickheaded students think to help you, please, allow them to do so.”
“Whatever you say, sir.”
As he walked away, chuckling as he went, she threw her knife at him. He caught it effortlessly and flung it right back at her. Then, he left without a backward glance.
They had been training in combat for years now, under the insistence of the commander of the Empire’s reserve force. Dex’s soldiers were likely to never be used - it was not as if war would ever approach the Empire - but they were incredibly skilled and were undoubtedly ready to lay down their lives for their people.
As their training stretched on, Helene and Avitas had become so skilled in the art of combat that they were granted permission to assist new recruits. The two of them were natural fighters.
“Probably would have made bleeding good soldiers too,” Dex constantly reminded them, in hopes that he could convince them to join his ranks. Harper had finally caved in, and consented to training soldiers, so long as he didn’t have to commit to any formalities. Helene still wanted nothing to do with it.
She was content with her simple life as a baker with a wonderful lover by her side.
That night, as the tribes began arriving and Scholars spilled through the streets, Helene headed to the Saif caravans in search of Ilyaas and Laia.
She spotted them walking through the streets near the caravans, hand in hand.
Skies, it had been so long ago that she had fallen for Ilyaas. He had been a beautiful tribal boy when she’d first met him; cheeky, kind, mysterious. But when she had met Avitas, she realized that what she had felt for Ilyaas was a shallow thing, nothing compared to the depth of emotions she carried for her future husband.
And when she looked upon Ilyaas now, with Laia, ever joyful, she could feel nothing less than happiness for them both.
“Laia!” Helene laughed, pushing her way through the dense crowds, “Ilyaas!”
“Helene, we’ve missed you!” Laia said when Helene appeared beside her. The two friends shared a warm embrace.
“Laia, my love. How rude of you to exclude me.” Ilyaas wrapped them both in a bear hug, knocking all three of them to the ground and meriting murmured and shrieked complaints alike from those around them.
“Would anyone care to tell me what is going on?” Avitas looked down upon them in mock confusion, his green eyes twinkling in the moonlight.
“Brother, you must join us.” Elias rose and wrapped his arm around Avitas’s shoulders. “Hail, big brother. I have grown taller than you.”
Avitas shoved him back to the ground. “You are slow witted as ever, I see.”
Once Elias regained his footing, the brothers reached their hands out to their wives, in an attempt to appear even slightly chivalrous. Both Helene and Laia refused them, rising of their own account.
“You knock us to the ground, and then expect us to accept your assistance. Really Ilyaas, you will never change. Laia, you must do a better job at controlling your man.”
“She controls me just fine, in be-”
Laia wacked him on the head.
“Shall we make our rounds through the festival?” Laia’s inquiry resulted in an eager nod from Elias.
“Whatever you say Laia, love of my life, amazing in spirit and amazing in be-”
Laia wacked him again.
Helene took Laia’s arm in her own and began walking away from Ilyaas and Avitas. “They can be such bleeding idiots sometimes.”
“Yes,” Laia said, sighing, “And we love them all the more for it.”
They walked at a slow pace, giving their husbands a chance to catch up with them. Once they did, Laia decided to set out for mooncakes.
“Bleeding merchants, bleeding flour, no bleeding mooncakes.” Avitas offered.
Helene nodded in agreement, attempting to hide her smirk with a sour expression.
Laia pouted disappointedly. “Then what are we to do now?”
Ilyaas extended a hand to his wife, “Would you care to dance, Kehanni?”
Helene turned to Avitas, reaching out her hand as well. “Dance with me.”
There will be a Helvitas happy ending - it’s just a little… misleading
This fic contains an excerpt from one of my previous fics.
***
Helene Aquilla could rely on only one soul to push her through the aftermath of the war. She had no one left but two friends who valued each other far more than her, an infant who could barely walk, let alone console her, and him.
Musa of Adisa’s friendship was the only thing that held together the thin strands of willpower she had left. Not her will to serve the Empire; she had that in copious amounts, but her will to live.
She spent much of her spare time with him, riding through the countryside, laughing in the moonlight, reminiscing over the lost. Musa never allowed her to forget those she had loved. He urged her instead to think of all that they had brought to the world, the fire that they had ignited within her that raged on still, alive and strong. His view of the world gave her hope, his friendship slowly remaking her. And yet, it never seemed to be quite enough.
After dancing with him at the Moon Festival, she felt that it should be something more.
As the two of them strolled through the palace gardens weeks after the occasion, Helene stopped abruptly, meriting a questioning glance from the Beekeeper.
“Do you ever regret loving her?”
Musa’s expression grew pained. “I will never regret loving her. I only regret not loving her enough.”
Helene placed a tentative hand on his shoulder, remembering their conversation from a year before; shortly after they had taken back Antium. You will regret it for all your years. She understood him now. Understood him so clearly it hurt. “I never want to make that mistake again.”
Musa turned to face her, grabbing her hand in his. His smile was more beautiful and true than any of the ones he’d offered her before. “What are you implying, Empress?” He stepped closer to her.
Their lips were suddenly just a hairsbreadth apart. She could feel his breath mingling with hers.
“You are a bleeding idiot,” she said, closing that miniscule distance, and crossing an endless sea of emotions and doubts in the process.
***
Avitas Harper was dead. He knew it with utmost certainty and acceptance. No one could have survived such an injury as the one that had been inflicted upon him. No healer nor singer could have altered his fate. Yet he wasn’t in the Waiting Place, and he certainly wasn’t on the other side.
An odd figure lingered by his head, barely visible, as if it were a reflection of a reflection. Almost nothing at all. The figure disappeared a second later, and then reappeared, slightly more solid than before.
“I am Rehmat.”
Rehmat. The jinn queen who lived inside Laia. But what was she doing with him, in death?
“You are not dead, child. You are being given a choice.” Rehmat’s voice was as faint as her form. “In death, awaits your mother and father. Your lost comrades in arms. In life, awaits Helene Aquilla.”
Harper stared at Rehmat disbelievingly. “Why are you here? You should be with Laia. You should be aiding her in battle.”
“Most of my power lies with her. But a small fragment, activated a year ago when you defied the Nightbringer, lies within you still. I am a projection of that fragment.”
Rehmat immerses him in the memory:
“Set her down, Captain.” He enters Helene’s quarters, and the Nightbringer gestures to her bed. “And then leave.” He settles her onto the bed. He tries to do so carefully, but her grimace displays that he could not prevent an inevitable strain from falling upon her wound. The expression pains him deeply. He backs away. “I will not leave her,” he says. He straightens and looks the Nightbringer in the face without flinching.
The moment seemed like so long ago, and yet he remembered it clearly. He could recall every detail of every moment he’d shared with Helene, good and bad. His choice between life and death, between Helene and whatever lay on the other side, had been made from the moment Rehmat proposed it.
“If what you say is true, then I can go back to her.” He felt like crying out in joy.
“Yes. But as I said, you carry only a fragment of my power. The withdrawal process from your current middle state will take time. Months. Up to a year. But if you wish to return to life, I will send you directly to Helene Aquilla.”
“Yes.” Avitas had never been so sure about anything ever before. Well, except for his love for Helene. “Please give her back to me. I wish for nothing more. I will wish for nothing more for the rest of my existence.”
“Humans have never been wantless creatures.” Rehmat chuckled darkly.
“Goodbye, Avitas Harper.”
***
Harper awoke suddenly to find himself standing in the palace gardens of Antium.
Further down the garden path stood two figures - lovers - sharing an embrace. Musa, and a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Helene. The way her body curved, the color of her hair, the gentle clash of beauty and ferocity in her form, features he knew and loved with utmost clarity. But Helene would never fall for Musa’s shallow charms, his obviously fake smiles.
Avitas had never thought of Musa as a bad person, but quite suddenly, the man’s very existence irritated him.
It was then that he realized that he was deluding himself. That it was, indeed, Helene who stood with Musa.
Harper knew he should be nothing short of grateful that Helene had found love, that she was happy. But all he felt then was a heart-wrenching sorrow.
Had Helene moved on days after he had gone into the middle state, or had it been weeks? Months? He knew that she had loved him, that he loved her, but it was possible that her love had been born simply from the desperation of war, a need for companionship. He could clearly see that she was no longer burdened by that need.
If he interfered, and Helene did have lingering feelings for him, he would hurt both her and Musa. And if her love for him was naught, then he could only hurt himself.
Harper turned away and began walking out of the garden.
Humans have never been wantless creatures.
Rehmat was right. For though he had been given another chance at life, though he had gotten to see the woman he loved, he still wanted more.
***
Helene removed her lips from Musa’s at the sound of leaves rustling behind her. There had been no winds, not even the slightest of breezes.
She regarded Musa’s hurt expression for only a split second before turning and bounding silently towards the intruder. He was a fool if he thought he’d be able to assassinate her that easily.
It was only when she’d tackled him to the ground and held a knife to his throat that she realized that his back had been turned to her, that he had not seemed to have any intention to harm her at all.
It was but a moment later that she realized who he was.
“Av- Avitas?”
“Helene.” He allowed himself a weak smile, his eyes, for once, revealing everything that he felt.
“No. Avitas Harper is dead.” She pressed her knife to his throat; he made no attempt to resist her. “What are you?”
“Emifal Firdaant, Shrike.”
No unholy fey creature could possibly know of the words they’d shared. She had whispered them to Harper and Harper alone. And he had whispered them back to her with his dying breath.
“But I saw you….” No. She didn’t care what she had seen. Avitas was here. Her Avitas.
She kissed him. Kissed him with all of the pain she’d felt in losing him. Kissed him with the passion of all the kisses they should have shared in the past year.
But he didn’t kiss her back.
And when she followed his gaze to Musa, to the Beekeper’s pain at the thought of all that could have been had Harper not returned, she understood.
“Musa…” She understood, and still, she could do nothing.
The Beekeper walked away.
***
The next morning, a small scroll appeared in the palm of Helene’s hand. She saw but a glimmer of wings upon receiving it.
Consider your favor to me fulfilled, as you have granted me a six month leave to Adisa to assist with rebuilding. Spend time with Avitas Harper. If I was given a second chance with Nikla, I would let nothing get in my way. I know you are a much better person than I, and would not be so eager as to do so. Therefore I am removing myself from your path. Best wishes.
***
Musa,
I doubt I will ever be able to thank you enough for all you have done for me over the past year. Your hope, your kindness, and your irritating disposition are signs that the Skies have yet to completely condemn me. You deserve all the happiness in all the worlds, and we both know that it does not lie with me. You deserve much more than to be an unwilling Empress’s second choice. But our time together was much too short, and I desperately wish that we can remain friends. I will be damned by the ten bleeding hells if you run away forever without so much as a goodbye.
Empress Regent,
Helene Aquilla
***
Upon the completion of her letter, Helene began wandering the palace in search of Harper.
She found him in the baths.
“Where is Musa? Why are you here?” His expression gave away nothing. But his eyes - they told a story all their own. They were laced with unending desire, and an equally deep abyss of sorrow.
Instead of giving him an explanation, she found herself pulling her hair free of its crown and stepping towards him ever so slowly. “You know why I’m here.”
The words were an echo. The start to a conversation they’d had there before.
“But I need you to say it. Please.”
“I’m here because it’s been a year since you’ve kissed me, since you’ve held me, since I’ve seen you at all. And when I saw the light fade from your eyes, I knew that I’d never love the same way again.”
“Helene.” He stepped closer, and whispered her name in her ear. He whispered it again and again, falling into sobs as he did, for he had thought that what they were starting would never be possible again.
She replied with his name, a mere breath falling from her lips. Filled with sorrow and endless joy alike.
Avitas:I’m proposing to the greatest woman in all the worlds.
Helene: I can’t believe you are stealing my husband!
Avitas:
Helene: The Empire is the greatest woman, man, son, and daughter in all the worlds. It is my whole damn family, including, but not limited to, my husband!
Avitas: Uh Helene, I was going to ask you to marry me.
Helene:ARE YOU TELLING ME TO CHEAT ON MY HUSBAND???
Helene Aquilla didn’t go to the Moon Festival. After tireless months of serving as Empress, of nights filled with painful memories of her family, of beautiful green eyes and rare smiles, her life had become more hollow and empty than ever before. There was no one and nothing stopping her from drowning in an endless pit of masked emotions.
It was not as if there was anyone left in the mortal world who truly cared about her. No one who loved her like Livvy or her mother or her father had. Like Avitas Harper had. Her loneliness at that moment was a testament to the fact.
No one had come after her when she’d fled to the barren lands surrounding Nur, and no one walked beside her now as she wandered those lands, finally allowing herself to indulge in her thoughts. It had been her first moment of physical solitariness in months, though the loneliness she felt inside never truly left her. It had been quieted by the duties she had as Empress and the voices of the court, but now it was loud and raging and fueled by the open and utter desperation of her thoughts.
The Empire had prevailed through the war in the Sher Jinnat because of her and her friends. Because of Avitas Harper’s sacrifice. In the past months, she had ensured that it would remain strong regardless of whatever malicious forces dared approach it in the future. But through the war, she had caused the deaths of thousands, both directly, and through foolish errs. And now, she deserved to die, not only for her sins, but also for her virtues.
She deserved to die because a monster like her had no right to live. And she deserved to die because the world of the living had no place for her. Because she wished to escape the pain that sliced through her mind sharper than any scim. Because she had been trained and beaten so thoroughly that physical pain could no longer distract her from her sorrow.
She was suffocating in her loneliness, and instead of wanting to escape the tightness in her throat, she wished more than anything else that it would hold true to its attempts to destroy her.
She had spent long nights slicing into her skin, experimenting with knives, daggers, and scims alike. But when she did, she felt nothing at all. And within minutes, the scabs were healed.
The attempts only brought her more despair, but though she felt like falling to the floor and sobbing like a child, the Empress was required to remain calm at all times.
And so Helene went over her current situation clearly and calmly. She went over what her family would tell her if they were still with her, and made the clear and calm decision that it was only fair for her fate to match theirs.
“Helly, why are you out on your own? Come dance with me.” Livia would say, bright eyes twinkling in the moonlight.
Helene withdrew one of her scims.
“You must come back to the festival and address your people.” Her father, ever practical, his words stating concern for the Empire while his true concern lay in Helene’s wellbeing.
She brought the scim to her throat.
“Helene, we must fix your hair and get you into a suitable dress.” Though Helene was a warrior through blood and bone, and didn’t care for femininity, her mother always remembered that she was, in fact, a girl.
Helene pressed the scim into the soft skin of her neck, drawing blood.
“Helene’s just trying to get our attention.” She would have to apologize to Hannah when she saw her again.
She dug the scim deeper, starting to bring it across her throat.
“You shouldn’t be without an escort, my love.” Harper would have followed her no matter how much she protested. Why hadn’t she thought to follow him to death sooner?
“You shouldn’t have left this world without me, my love. I shouldn’t have let you.”
Helene finished the job, smiling hopefully as she did so. The Empire would be fine. She’d done enough for it already. And in mere moments she would see her family again. She would see Avitas, again.
Her limp body collapsed to the ground.
“Welcome to the Waiting Place…”
***
Avitas Harper was dead. He knew it with utmost certainty and acceptance. No one could have survived such an injury as the one that had been inflicted upon him. No healer nor singer could have altered his fate. Yet he wasn’t in the Waiting Place, and he certainly wasn’t on the other side.
An odd figure lingered by his head, barely visible, as if it were a reflection of a reflection. Almost nothing at all. The figure disappeared a second later, and then reappeared, slightly more solid than before.
“I am Rehmat.”
Rehmat. The jinn queen who lived inside Laia. But what was she doing with him, in death?
“You are not dead, child. You are being given a choice.” Rehmat’s voice was as faint as her form. “In death, awaits your mother and father. Your lost comrades in arms. In life, awaits Helene Aquilla.”
Harper stared at Rehmat disbelievingly. “Why are you here? You should be with Laia. You should be aiding her in battle.”
“Most of my power lies with her. But a small fragment, activated a year ago when you defied the Nightbringer, lies within you still. I am a projection of that fragment.”
Rehmat immerses him in the memory:
“Set her down, Captain.” He enters Helene’s quarters, and the Nightbringer gestures to her bed. “And then leave.” He settles her onto the bed. He tries to do so carefully, but her grimace displays that he could not prevent an inevitable strain from falling upon her wound. The expression pains him deeply. He backs away. “I will not leave her,” he says. He straightens and looks the Nightbringer in the face without flinching.
The moment seemed like so long ago, and yet he remembered it clearly. He could recall every detail of every moment he’d shared with Helene, good and bad. His choice between life and death, between Helene and whatever lay on the other side, had been made from the moment Rehmat proposed it.
“If what you say is true, then I can go back to her.” He felt like crying out in joy.
“Yes. But as I said, you carry only a fragment of my power. The withdrawal process from your current middle state will take time. Months. Up to a year. But if you wish to return to life, I will send you directly to Helene Aquilla.”
“Yes.” Avitas had never been so sure about anything ever before. Well, except for his love for Helene. “Please give her back to me. I wish for nothing more. I will wish for nothing more for the rest of my existence.”
“Humans have never been wantless creatures.” Rehmat chuckled darkly.
“Goodbye, Avitas Harper.”
***
Harper awoke to the sight of a pool of blood and Helene’s lifeless body.
“Helene!” Someone was shouting from a distance. The voice sounded familiar, but Harper didn’t care enough to attempt to place it.
She wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be dead. She wouldn’t have let someone kill her.
But Harper had witnessed the aftermaths of enough suicides to confirm whether the person he knew best in the world had committed it.
“Bleeding hells.” The voice behind him was Elias’s. “Who are you and what in the hells have you done to the Empress?” Elias held Avitas at scimpoint.
Elias’s grip slackened a moment later. “Avitas? I thought you were dead.”
“Kill me, brother.” Avitas had seen enough of this world and the schemes of the fey. Rehmat had probably wished for him to see Helene lying there. Dead. “Kill me or I will take my own life.”
Elias drew back his scim and wrapped one arm around Harper’s shoulders. “You know I can’t let you die. Not again.”
Elias was trembling, tears streaming down his face.
“She was everything to me. The only reason that I came back to this Skies forsaken world.” Harper stared Elias dead in the eye as he continued, “Kill me. Please, let me go to her.”
“I’m sorry.”
After that, both Elias and Avitas remained silent, both had just lost someone they loved, and both took slight comfort in each others’ understanding. The two brothers sobbed together until the morning light.
Just a little something I wrote for a class. It has very little editing but I kinda like where it’s going and I’ve started to put together a plot for some characters. Read it if you want and feel free to leave feedback if you feel like it. I have one other scene written and another under editing right now.
Warning: Descriptions of dead bodies and death in general start right below the cut.
The bodies were everywhere. Corpses lying twisted as they had fallen, gaping holes rent into armor, arrows sticking up every which way. The smell of death hung in the air. The sharp tang of blood and other bodily fluids was slowly giving way to burning flesh as survivors gathered the dead, stripped them of weapons and anything useful, then were tossed into the ever growing fires. Smoke twisted itself low across the field casting a haze into the fading light and beginning to obscure those walking around, all with fabric pulled up to cover noses and mouths. She wove her way across, sidestepping arms and legs and heads. The burning wreckage of the ships just barely staying afloat in the river behind her cast an eerie glow that messed with shadows on the ground. Someone had created a semblance of a path up ahead and she went to it, knowing where it would lead.
The armor she wore twisted uncomfortably and rubbed in several spots. That was to be expected though, seeing as it wasn’t made for her. Ignoring the discomfort that tried to invade each of her senses, she continued forward. The treeline was ahead and the girl could see torches marking the camp just beyond. Despite the battle having finished nearly an hour before, sentries still stood guard, their posture tall and alert. Their usually shining armor was covered with blood and dirt but the polearms each held were spotless as if they valued the weapons more than themselves. her own was strapped across her back and while she had wiped blood off, it was by no means clean yet. She kept her head lowered as she passed between and into the trees.
The smell of bodies was lessened in the woods as the smoke had to weave in between the graying branches and became caught up in the remaining leaves that still hung onto life. There were more people here tending to horses and each other. Grunts and shouts of pain came from a large tent that served as a healer’s station. People dashed around inside shouting orders and running to grab more supplies. One spotted her and tried to wave her in once they caught sight of the dried blood from the slice on her forehead, but she shook her head and continued on. Too busy to worry about a single person, the healer returned to the nearest patient.
Striding forward between tents and weapon racks, the main aisle became clear. A handful walked on it as well, pleased with victory yet still too busy to celebrate. They barely spared her a glance. At the center stood a larger tent, the sides rolled upward to expose a table covered in maps and figurines, partially obscured by the half dozen or so people around it who hurriedly pointed to icons and tried talking over one another.
At the head of the table sat the Queen. Still dressed from battle, Aquilla lounged in her chair, hair pulled back and sword lazily being twirled in her grasp, the point boring a miniscule hole into the ground. The newcomer couldn’t see her mouth or the set of her jaw because of the coverings everyone wore, but from her posture she could tell the Queen’s patience with her commanders was about to run out. She turned to the girl and beckoned her closer with a tilt of her head. She approached and tilted her own in acknowledgement.
“I assume you have a report,” Her voice was hard and ice shone in steel eyes. “Speak.”
“We are still gathering survivors and burning the dead. There is still no word on where they have run to but scouts continue to search,” She stood to her full height as she addressed the Queen, but met those cold steel eyes only as she finished speaking. Aquilla’s reaction was instantaneous, but the girl was faster.
In the blink of an eye, the polearm was in her hands and she swung. Their weapons crashed as the Queen raised her sword to meet the attack. Distantly she heard the commanders drawing blades and shouting, but was already rotating to swing again. Once more the hit was blocked, but the girl drew the knife from her belt and plunged it up into Aquilla’s heart. The Queen clawed out a hand to pull the cover off her face and the girl snarled her fury at her. She who had invaded her lands. She who had killed her people. She who had stolen her throne. But the girl was no longer just the rebel leader in the woods. As Aquilla’s blood seeped over her fingers, she cried her own victory and let fire shine from her eyes, and the mighty Queen Vega finally arose to take back her homeland.
Drawing the blade out, Aquilla fell at Vega’s feet. She stored the knife once again as she turned in the torchlight to face everyone left. Swinging the polearm around into position, she grinned at the sound of the approaching horns and shouts, ringing through the trees and across the fields. The moon peaked out from beyond the hills, and Vega moved.
