Sven

Sven

Watching the sunlight play upon her hair as she helped harness the horses for the mounted soldiers, I couldn’t help but wonder how I would feel if she were taken away from me. The atmosphere before battle was not somber as most might think, but loud and merry. There would be time enough for mourning later. For now, all our kinsmen could think about was victory; their bloodlust filled them till you could almost see the battle light in their eyes shining like the sun itself. For those like Rogue who had yet to see their first battle, this was a momentous occasion. I knew how she felt, but that was a distant memory for me. The jokes, the laughter, the long hard gazes of lovers before the march to the Blood Chalice, all of those things were something I had seen before my own first battle. Before I lost my comrades who fell before the swordsmen of the House of Blanc. Now all I feared was losing her too. Or perhaps losing my own life as well. It seemed cowardly to have such fears. We were all trained as warriors, both girls and boys alike and often reminded that fear should not be a part of ourselves. Yet there a creeping feeling inside me that made my hands shake as I sharpened my sword. I wanted to bring my bow and quiver along but apparently we were expecting a light battle. I looked longingly at the bright arrowheads and the soft quiver before replacing them back in their box. It had been a present from Rogue in honour of my first battle. I did not want to lose it in the heat of battle. Somehow the cerulean blue skies and fluffy clouds did nothing to calm my nerves. The slight summer heat felt ominous somehow. Perhaps I was being paranoid, but I couldn’t help but wonder if this was to be my last battle. A loud bugle call broke through the merry sounds of chatter and laughter. My fears would have to be pushed aside. The march had begun.

The scene was breathtaking while it lasted. The bright scarlet pennants snapping in the wind, our long blond hair akin to golden threads in the air and the smell of grass that reminded us all of spring and life even though it was death that we faced brought tears to our eyes. Though of pride and joy or sorrow, I will never know. I heard the softly murmured prayers of the youths who marched with us and snatches of battle songs drifted to us in the wind, sometimes even the occasional whispered promise between lovers. Our stronghold was not very far from the Blood Chalice. In fact, it was only separated by a hill as it was with all the other houses. The House of Azzuro lived in the northern part of the hills and did not take long to arrive. Soon we were looking down the valley at our opponents. Clad in blue and silver, unlike our own bright reds and gold, it was as if the elements themselves were fighting against each other. Water and fire. Who would win? For Rogue’s sake and for our House, I hoped it would be our sweet victory that we would carry home in triumph with our heads held high. All was eerily silent save for the occasional jingle of a harness or the stamp of impatient warhorses and the flapping of pennants in the dying breeze. And the carrion screaming high above the assembled armies. I shuddered. The world was holding its breath. High in the sky an eagle screamed a challenge but all ears were for the bugle call that echoed from hill to hill. The rasping of swords newly sharpened and the soft twanging of bows were all they heard. A single sword flashed in the air, its blade gleaming and reflecting the sun so that it looked like a shaft of the sun had attached itself to Adurna’s arm. Slowly the sword fell in a bright arc and all hell broke loose.    

  

I wondered when it was going to end. The pain was excruciating as I lifted my sword arm. A deep gash to my shoulder proved to be the cause but there was no reprieve from the fighting. It was all around us and despite having Rogue to watch my back, I was worried. I was scared. I know I didn’t show it because I felt my lips quirk upwards in a wry smile as I sliced through yet another blue tunic, spraying the ground with scarlet. I was merely working like a mechanical killing machine. I could feel Rogue’s light chain mail pressing against my back, the sweat running down to sting the cuts and wounds I had already received. Rogue was luckier. Still unhurt and strong, she dodged blows with an agile grace none could match but as the afternoon wore on, even her boundless energy began to flag. I observed this sudden slowness, this uncharacteristic clumsy movements of hers with an alarmed feeling. I didn’t want her hurt. Unexpectedly a dark eyed, dark haired boy stood before me, a battle mad grin on his face. I was too preoccupied with thinking. I had let my guard down and now I had to pay the price. The blow was sharp and the pain was followed by warmth that spread down the front of my tunic. Scarlet turned to garnet as my blood began to stain the cloth. The boy got ready for the finishing blow which would probably take Rogue’s head off as well, his sword high. Too high for him to react when my own blade bit deep into his throat. His blow never landed. In his eyes there was only shock and disbelief as my sword hit home. On the battlefield, accuracy is the deadliest weapon. I saw them retreating as the shouts grew dimmer in my ears. The world roared and turned black around the edges as I struggled to remain on my feet. I watched Rogue whirl to scare off any possible attacks and I saw the look of horror as she finally set eyes on me. I sank to the welcoming ground.

I felt so weak. The sky glared in its brightness and I shut my eyes briefly. Rogue’s voice whispered to me and I felt the cool shade of her long hair above my face. Sighing I curled an arm around her. This would be the last chance for me to hold her.  She gently cradled me in her arms, arms that were lean with muscle from years of our mock sword fights and sparring. Tears filled her stormy eyes and fell, warm like rain, like blood on my face. Breathing was becoming harder. Perhaps that boy’s aim had not been off the mark after all. It was hard to imagine that all this while, breathing which was a seemingly simple act that we took for granted would become such a task. “Rogue, don’t cry. You’ve got to run before they come back,” I murmured with as much energy as I could muster with that one ragged gasp for air. So much effort to speak, so many things to say and yet so little time. From the heavy tread of boots approaching, I knew that my hourglass was running out of sand. Rogue began to drag me, each pull lancing pain up and down my battered body. Every fibre of my body screamed for release and the sweet eternal sleep. We wouldn’t even make it across half the battlefield. I knew it and she knew it. “Rogue.” It came out as a strangled gasp. I berated myself mentally for sounding so weak but this was it. This was the end. She hurried to my side, her breath coming in heavy pants. “Leave me. I’m dying.”. I shuddered and felt my body spasm. A cough shook my frame and I felt blood rushing up from my throat. What a way to die I thought weakly, drowning on my own blood. I had to tell her. This was the end, already the sky was fading in my vision and it wouldn’t be long before I would never see it again. The familiar blond braid swung next to me as she dropped to her knees. The whistling of the first few arrows already filled the sky. “Rogue, you know I love you right? Always have and always…” I didn’t have the strength anymore. The words died away on my lips as I choked on the scarlet river that barely sustained me by a thread. I wasn’t even sure that she heard me but I saw her face, framed by a halo of escaped hair against the sunlight. Like a beautiful angel coming to take me beyond the pain. This was how I would have wanted it to end if I died fighting. I laughed to myself silently, this was how it would end.  That was my last vision before it all faded away.

~Rei Shiori