Disclaimer; I do not own The Chronicles of Narnia – sadly and obviously true or any characters you recognise from it.

Read and hopefully enjoy!

After the war King Edmund picks up a strange companion. Starts during LWW and the years after...featuring all Pevensies.

The Just King's Companion

Chapter I – The Dawn

Today was the day.

Rolling out of her bedroll she hissed, biting down on her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as pain burning like fire, laced through her torso.

She lay still for a moment, caught in the exquisitely painful grasps of agony.

After a few moments the pain lessened to a more manageable level. Grumbling under her breath, she carefully manoeuvred herself, until she was close enough to use the tree her pack was against, to haul herself up with.

She barely managed to swallow the wild expletive that rested easily on the tip of her tongue, at the sudden burst of pain the movement had caused. She warily took in the sleeping, hulking forms all around her, but not one had even twitched.

Releasing a long wavering breath through her teeth, she trudged as silently as she could past the snoring bundles to gain more privacy.

Once relieved, she collapsed readily against a tree, casting her gaze forward.

The sun was barely touching the horizon when she looked to the East. And a grey gloom hung about the camp behind her like a shroud, a few fires smouldering still visible dotted about.

She inhaled deeply, wincing slightly as the pain flared in protest at the movement of her ribcage.

Today was the day...

Her thoughts once more sounded silently and the pain for a moment was forgotten - because her fear was greater.

Limping slightly, she made her way back to where her bedroll and pack was, walking as lightly as she could so as not to wake others. But as she approached, she heard the humming, loud and off-tune, and she gave up her stealth in favour of speed as she hurried back.

As she neared she was able to distinguish the form of Hashnak hunkering over something, humming blithely.

She cleared her throat pointedly and Hashnak in response whipped round, her yellow catlike eyes narrowed dangerously as she bared her teeth, ready for attack.

"Gah - it's only you," Hashnak rumbled and went back to rummaging in her pack.

She made her way silently over to her bedroll and kneeling with a painful hiss, she began to roll it up.

Hashnak looked over her shoulder. "What yer doin'? It's an hour or so 'fore dawn yet."

She strapped the bedroll resolutely to her pack. "Can't sleep."

Hashnak eyed her straining back for a moment, listening to her harsh breathing.

Finally, Hashnak rolled her eyes. "Give it 'ere!" Hashnak ordered, striding over and gesturing toward the pack she was struggling to lift.

She remained stubbornly still for a moment, before Hashnak growled low in her throat and she relinquished her hold. Hashnak effortlessly lifted her pack and slung it over her shoulder.

"Where d'ya want it?" Hashnak asked.

She opened her mouth to answer Hashnak, when they both ducked just in time to dodge the missile aimed at them.

"Giv' ov'r will ya? Some 'f us are a still tryin' ta sleep!" The loud protest came somewhere from within the still slumbering camp.

Hashnak bared her teeth once more, ready to stride in and make the owner of that voice regret he had ever been born at all. But she put a steadying hand on Hashnak's shoulder, gesturing silently further away. She was in no mood for a confrontation so early in the morning, and especially not today of all days.

Grumbling under her breath Hashnak conceded, swiftly gathering up her own bedroll and pack. They made their way over to the slightly secluded spot.

Hashnak dropped their packs carelessly onto the grey-green grass, and after indulging herself in a loud yawn and stretch she smacked her lips, looking hungrily towards their packs.

She smiled fleetingly as Hashnak resumed her rummaging. A short while later a small fire was crackling between them, the tempting smell of bacon sizzling in the morning air.

She couldn't eat much that morning though as her stomach twisted in nervous knots. She sat on a small rock with the firm, cold weight of her sword across her knees, as she methodically ran a rag up and down the gleaming metal.

"Makin' it shinier ain't gonna make it better," Hashnak mumbled as she gobbled down the rest of her breakfast almost whole.

"Oi runt, ya gonna eat that?" Hashnak eyed her breakfast hopefully and with a weary sigh she shoved it towards her.

Hashnak flashed her a bright, brief smile before wolfing down her second breakfast of the morning.

Despite her initial protests, Hashnak had insisted quite forcefully on helping her get ready.

Hashnak bound her still tender ribs with boiled leather for more support, before slipping on the stained jerkin over her torso with a gruff tug.

"Favour ya left...keep close ta Druhk," Hashnak muttered pieces of advice as she helped her ready, which unwittingly served the purpose of adding to her worry rather than abating it.

She nodded twice, trying to still the shaking of her hands by fiddling with the buckles on her belt once Hashnak finished.

Hashnak, noticing her fidgeting fingers, slapped her hands away with an irritated growl. "Leave 'em alone!"

She stood still then, fingers curling and uncurling around cold frigid dawn air, her breath coming out in little, white clouds.

Hashnak heaved a sigh as she saw her standing with her eyes trained on the dew-soaked grass below her boots.

"Be ready ta run," Hashnak grumbled as she gathered up the old bandages.

Her head snapped up, expression stern as she nodded.

"I mean 'f things start ta look bad," Hashnak clarified quietly, as she hunkered down and began to cut up the old bandages into more manageable pieces that she could still possibly use.

Her expression had smoothed then into one of impeccable cool calmness, that still managed to send a shiver up Hashnak's spine despite all Hashnak had seen.

"Gah - don't look a' me like 'at," Hashnak grumbled fiercely over her shoulder, as she tossed a few unusable pieces of stained bandage into the flames in front of her.

She approached silently then, crouching down on the other side of the fire opposite Hashnak, as she stared contemplatively into the flames. The dancing light was reflected in the dark of her eyes.

A few moments silence stretched that was only filled with the crackle of the fire, as it devoured the twigs she had gathered before light had even risen that morning.

"They say we will win," she finally said, looking up to study Hashnak's face.

Hashnak sniffed at the air indignantly, before standing. She brushed the scraps of bandages into the fire, before replacing her small dagger on her broad belt. Hashnak then strode over to her pack that was propped against the tree, with a handful of usable bandages cut into rough squares in her hand.

She watched the rigid line of Hashnak's broad shoulders for a few moments, before Hashnak stilled and sighed quietly. She watched Hashnak turn slightly towards her, Hashnak's yellow cat-like eyes gleaming dimly in the early morning light.

"They say many things," Hashnak grumbled. "But m' dam always taught me, 'at no matter how long th' night may last, the dawn always comes eventually...'nd I reckon 'is night has lasted long enough, eh?"

Hashnak stood suddenly then, shouldering her pack and she stood with her, a flicker of panic claiming her features.

"You're leavin'?" she said, and she couldn't help the words sounding like an accusation.

Hashnak whirled fiercely on her. "'N what 'f I am?" she challenged.

She lowered her head immediately to show she had meant no threat, and Hashnak begrudgingly relinquished her fighting stance.

Her gaze flitted up again though, eyeing Hashnak warily. Yet Hashnak recognised the defeated slump of the narrow shoulders, the chin dipped to her chest.

Hashnak rolled her yellow eyes, before dropping her pack she stormed over to her and clapped her roughly on the shoulder.

"Now look 'ere..." Hashnak began and her eyes flickered up expectantly.

Hashnak groaned. "Don't look a' me like you're a whelp of ta litter, kick'd out in ta cold!" Hashnak swallowed thickly as she tried to look fierce and disapproving.

Immediately her expression hardened to one of steel eyes and stern jaw. And Hashnak indulged herself a fleeting, fond smile before her own expression hardened.

"Good. Now, keep yer visor low ov'r yer eyes, see. Remember to always raise yer shield arm high to cover ya from neck ta hip and all ta important bits b'tween, see?"

She nodded firmly, her gaze keen and focused and Hashnak grunted in approval. "An' don't be swingin yer sword like a lunatic like Dranic," Hashnak added. "B'sides, yer ribs wouldn't last it like 'at." Hashnak poked at her middle. She winced far more than Hashnak would've liked, even with the support of the tighter bandaging and leather support.

"Ya think we'll lose?" she asked, and though she tried, she couldn't keep the tremor of fear from her voice.

Hashnak stilled for a moment, eyeing her before she jutted out her chin. "Dunno...maybe, maybe not - just got a bad feelin' s'all."

"And a bad feelin' tis 'nough ta make ya abandon...?" Her voice trailed off, her eyes attempting to look angry, but the desperate flicker in them was only too clear to Hashnak.

"Gah, don't be like 'at! That sorta whingeing suited more ta Dranic," Hashnak coaxed a small fleeting smirk out of her.

Then her expression sobered, the small smile vanishing. "You saw somefin in the flames, didn't ya?" Her eyes were far too keen and Hashnak smirked ruefully, remembering how they had always been far too perceptive.

"Dunno - maybe, maybe not," Hashnak replied.

The other growled low in her throat and Hashnak gave a loud bellowing laugh, ignoring the shouts of complaint that came from the camp.

"T-that was good," Hashnak remarked, wiping the moisture of amusement from her eyes. "Keep workin' on tha'."

The other flashed a dopey grin, a faint dusting on pink tingeing her cheeks as she shoved Hashnak's shoulder.

And then a heavy silence fell, pregnant with a hundred things left unsaid. But in the end, all it came down to, was a simple few words.

Hashnak shoved her pack up higher on her shoulder, looking first to the rising sun in the East and then to the West.

"Take care 'f yerself runt," Hashnak clapped her on the shoulder before brushing by her.

A moment and she was gone.


The dying shriek of a goblin as the crushing weight of rock thudded against the earth, tore through her eardrums as she gritted her teeth.

Deftly darting to the side, she avoided the grey monolith with its crushed victims now beneath.

She kept her head low, the sword clasped in her sweaty palms a comforting weight, as she moved as one ever onward in this maelstrom of shrieks, boiled leather and sharpened metal.

Their huge mass spread across the green plains, blotting out everything like a stain as they gained ground, the sun beating down upon her shoulders.

"Aim fer 'er legs!" The piece of guttural, shouted advice was the last thing she understood, her eyes rising for a brief moment to connect with the owner of the words.

Druhk's one good yellow eye effortlessly sought and found her out amongst the advancing ranks. He gave a crooked sort of grin, one sharpened fang sticking out as he nodded briefly at her.

Her heart thumped furiously in her ribcage like an animal thrashing about trying to escape. She tried to swallow but her throat was as dry as desert sands, and her too large visor kept falling over her eyes. And yet without conscious thought...still her legs propelled her forward towards, towards...

She warned herself not to look. But she couldn't help it, as her gaze rose to look beyond dwarves' pointed helmets, between the hulking bodies of Minotaurs and between the thundering giants' legs - and then she saw them.

They were shaped like a silver arrow as they moved fluidly with deadly precision across the green plains, red and gold banners fluttering high, the sun catching gold and silver armour alike in blinding flashes of light. She felt her mouth fall open as she beheld him; suited all in silver armour that gleamed and flashed and burned in the sun's rays, so he seemed to be the embodiment of light itself upon his white steed, come to wipe out their dark blot.

They had been assured they would win. They had the bigger numbers, the better weapons and the dark cold magic of her behind them in her deadly sceptre.

But she couldn't help remembering Hashnak's grumbled words to her at dawn that morning before she had left, disappearing into the early morning mist until she had become nothing more than a shadowy blot that vanished into nothing.

This night has lasted long enough...

She forced down the rising tide of fear, reaching for that numb part of her that would allow her to blot out everything else - to focus on the only thing that mattered; surviving.

She began to count her breaths as she ran, feeling the vibrations of each running footstep connecting with the earth, shudder through her frame.

A ghost of a breath whispered against her skin for a brief moment, and then she caught the flashes of white fur as their feline allies raced by her.

"Keep yer eyes open runt!" She heard Dranic's voice boom in her ears for a brief moment and then suddenly - she was fighting. They had impacted with the enemy's army. Their lines had bled together in a raging maelstrom.

The red and gold banners were lowered now, spattered with crimson blood and broken upon the ground, embedded in the bowels of an unfortunate Minotaur.

She ducked just in time to miss the high, arching silver sword before it could be brought down upon her. And as she whirled her black sword bit out to sink into yielding flesh as a crimson scream sounded.

She pulled her sword free, staggering back with a hiss as pain lanced through her torso. However, she was swiftly knocked aside to the ground, and her eyes wide, she swung her arms blindly despite Hashnak's warnings, not sure if her sword hit something or not.

Metal caught her sword with a resounding clash that reverberated through her arms right to her gritted teeth. She was soundly hauled to her feet and a snarling face loomed before her for a moment.

"Watch yer back runt," Dranic said, his red eyes flashing as he shoved her away once more to lock swords with a centaur in gleaming silver armour.

She ground her teeth together in angered annoyance at her own disjointed fighting. Lashing out with a fierce snarl her sword cleaved clean through armour and bone alike, from shoulder to hip of her unlucky victim.

With a fierce tug her sword came free, releasing a shower of ruby red raindrops.

Better, she thought grimly.

Soon she had developed a rhythm with her sword; a deadly dance as she weaved in and out amongst the silver, red and gold armour, her obsidian blade finding flesh each time. Rarely did she make an instantaneous kill blow. But the wounds she caused were deep and long-term – fatal.

Then a horn sounded, long and urgent.

The golden army before turned – turned and fled. Many beside her snarled in victory, not thinking twice before racing after them. But she glanced to Druhk, saw his one good eye scanning the high cliffs above. She too had seen the golden army's archers ready and waiting for them.

But it was too late – too late to call back the troops and besides Druhk couldn't even if he wanted to, because she was behind them, ordering them on and on – ever onward.

Pulse hammering against fevered skin she pushed on, swallowing down the bile, the pain lancing through her torso that felt like she was being skewered by a hundred white hot pokers.

She was exhausted and even as she ran, following the golden army, she raised a hand to wipe across her brow, pushing the oversized visor up.

Adrenaline had coursed through her veins when she had danced with her blade. But now this tedious running, the churning feeling in her stomach as she thought of all those archers with their silver and gold arrows waiting for them…she was beating against a steadily building wall of exhaustion.

They were bottled into a valley of some sort with towering white rock on either side of them, where a great river once ran through. But the only thing that rained on them was the hail after hail of arrows the free Narnians released on them.

Dropping to her knees to make herself as small a target as possible, she raised her shield above her head, gritting her teeth as the impact of the arrows striking her shield shuddered through her whole body.

"MOVE!" Druhk's order had her on her feet again, darting forward; keep moving to make herself a harder target as the arrows rained down unrelenting.

She had made it forward about another meter or so when a shriek almost inhuman rose in her throat, and she fell to the ground, the pain tearing through her shoulder like fire.

They pushed on past her, heavy metal boot-falls causing the ground around to almost tremble.

Her shield lay forgotten, her useless arm hanging limp at her side.

She gritted her teeth against the pain, darting across to take shelter and respite behind an outcropping boulder as she ripped off her visor.

She had barely been there a moment when Dranic's face was shoved into hers. She almost snarled in annoyance. How was she meant to prove herself a warrior once and for all, if Hashnak had told them all to keep an eye on her as if she were…were a runt?!

"Wha 'ave ya done ta yerself now runt?" He effortlessly pulled her hands away despite her snapping fiercely at him.

All around them shrieks and screams filled the air as goblins and Minotaurs alike fell heavily to the ground, multiple arrows protruding from them.

However, Dranic barely seemed to notice as he looked at the long-silvered arrow embedded in her shoulder, having gone right through and sprouting out the other side, coated in crimson.

"Nasty 'at," he remarked almost casually. She growled at him, but he barely seemed to notice.

"Right – bite a' somefin'" he barely give her a moment's notice.

"Bu' Hashnak says nev'r ta rip an arAHHHHHH!" Her warning was ignored, as without a second thought Dranic gripped the shaft of the arrow and with a sharp tug, pulled it clean from her shoulder.

Her howl of pain was only swallowed in the rising tide of noise, as the battle continued on around them.

"Wha' ya screamin' like 'at fer?" Dranic grumbled, as he ripped a length of the end of his tunic that hung out at the bottom of his armour.

She was breathing harshly though her teeth, eyes almost bulging from her skull as the pain lanced like brilliant crimson fire though her shoulder. The dull pain in her ribs was entirely forgotten in comparison.

Dranic pulled her up to a sitting position. He wrapped the length of material around her shoulder with little thought to gentleness, but rather speed, before he finished and tied it tightly.

She barely grimaced when the make-shift bandage was tied – nothing could be more painful than Dranic pulling that arrow from her shoulder, she was convinced.

"Right runt, tha' should see ya thru' til this is al' over. Wait it out 'ere. I'll come bac' and get ya –"

"I can still fight ya know!" she tried to argue, but her entire body was shaking as she clenched her teeth.

"Don't be a' ass. Hashnak would 'ave ma hide if ya got yerself kill'd," Dranic cut across her fiercely. "Now wait 'ere. Don't move!" he told her, adding in a low growl to show he meant it as a threat.

She bared her teeth back at him, though it was a feeble gesture considering the amount of pain she was in.

"I'll be bac' fer ya. An' I'll bring ya tha' boy king's head ta cheer ya up." He grinned cockily, and she rolled her eyes at him, clutching at her shoulder. But it didn't matter, Dranic was already away.

It was hardly fair, she considered mentally; Dranic was three times her size and he barely, if ever, raised his bloody shield. Yet she was the one that managed to get shot with the arrow!

She was never going to hear the end of this, she noted sourly.

She leaned her head back against the surface of the boulder behind her, forcing herself to take calming breaths – panicked breathing would only make her heart pump faster – making her wound bleed more. Hashnak's constant interferences hadn't gone completely to waste, she thought wryly for a moment.

She grimaced, feeling the warmth of her own hot blood running down the length of her arm, pooling in the palm of her hand.

Dranic was a bloody idiot, she cursed inwardly – if only he hadn't of pulled out the damn arrow! He could have cut it as close to the wound as possible and she could have gone on.

She yelped suddenly when a body was flung down beside her, almost shoving her out of the cover of her rock.

She looked up into the familiar, dark ruby eyes and felt the growl bubbling in her throat.

"Ay' runt, wha' are ya doin' 'ere?"

She opened her mouth to speak when he spoke over her again, smirking when he noticed the pulsing red between her fingers. "Got yerself shot, did ya'?"

"Shut it Ruitak!" she threatened.

He laughed harshly. "Love ta stay n' chat wif ya runt, bu' some 'f us hav' actually got ta fight 'is battle." And Ruitak was gone with a cocky grin just like his older brother moments before him.

She had just tightened the bandage even further – raising her arm slightly with a great effort to reduce the blood-flow – when she felt something creep across her skin like an icy whisper, a burning cold touch, a deadly caress.

She raised her eyes and felt the blood in her veins run cold as she saw her.

Tall and pale and terrible stood Queen Jadis of Narnia; the White Witch.

In one hand she grasped the reins of her iron chariot and in the other her gleaming, deadly sceptre.

For a moment the White Witch seemed frozen almost, like one of the statues in her ice palace. But then her eyes snapped around surveying the battle field.

Her breath hitched in her throat as the cold eyes fell on her for barely a split second – but a second too long all the same.

She got up then and sheathing her black blade she grabbed her shield and ran – towards the fight.

There was just as much danger if the White Witch caught her sitting behind that rock while the battle was still raging, as there was if she rushed towards the golden and silver army.

Swallowing down the pain she ran, keeping her shield raised.

She had been so focused on just running, that she ducked barely in time to narrowly miss being skewered by a rhino as it charged through their ranks.

For a moment she paused, forgetting to run, watching the rhino charge, watching as the imps cut at its legs that were as thick as tree trunks. "Fool…" she breathed, moments before she watched as the rhino was brought to the ground, only for a centaur in gleaming silver to leap over it, charging – charging.

Her breath caught, stuttered, as first her Captain fell, then the gleaming silver warrior went – went for her.

His sword flashed out like a tongue of flame caught in the noonday sun, and then a cold, blue light burst forth and the centaur was no more than a frozen statue of stone.

She turned – the battle was still raging.

Very soon she had no other choice but to abandon her shield – her arm could no longer support it and she felt safer with her black blade in her hand to attack, than with just a shield to defend.

Her strikes grew weaker as her body tired – even faster considering the blood-flow that pulsed from her shoulder freely.

Her once fluid fighting disintegrated into mostly dodging and running from cover to cover, dealing a sly move to an enemy's legs as she darted past, before collapsing for a much-needed moment's respite in relative cover.

She was crouching beside another boulder – she was mostly ignored, given her general appearance meant many overlooked her as already dead; her left side now entirely drenched with crimson blood.

Her head felt heavy as she lifted it, blinked – tried to look for her next spot to run to.

She didn't see another spot though. What she saw was a brilliant flash of blinding blue, as a warrior no more than a boy in crimson and gold armour with dark eyes, brought his silver sword down upon the White Witch's sceptre.

Shattered.

For a moment she forgot to breathe.

Then the White Witch bared her teeth, and with a few deft moves her shattered sceptre found retribution in the boy's gut, as he fell to the ground soundlessly.

She felt incredibly light, her vision for a moment swimming. It most likely was the severe loss of blood. But even as black spots blurred across her vision, her mind burned with the image of the pale, determined boy's face, right before he had destroyed the greatest weapon they had.

Hashnak's words echoed in her mind clearer than ever…this night has lasted long enough.

And then it was as though the night had taken her itself, as she slipped under its veil of darkness.


Her teeth knocked harshly against one another so much, she almost bit her tongue off.

Her senses came blaring in in a riotous chaos, every single feeling coloured with pain.

She blinked opened her eyes, staring into familiar red eyes.

"Wha' did I tell ya?!" Dranic growled, before with barely any effort he lifted her and slung her carelessly over his shoulder.

She didn't even have the energy to protest as Dranic took off at a brisk jog, each movement jolting through her entire body with a flaring pain.

Suddenly Dranic flung her down on the ground and she managed the effort to snarl at him.

He glared darkly at her. "Stay put!" he shouted, before he took off again.

She didn't listen to him though as she surged onward, her black blade knocked against the length of her leg. She hadn't even the strength to draw it anymore.

She tried desperately to keep Dranic in her line of sight. She needed to tell him what she had seen, about Hashnak's words, about the growing dread in her gut about how this battle would end.

However, she had lost him within moments and she found herself caught in the fray once more. A few darting movements and dodges though and she was able to stand panting as she looked around her.

Their numbers were in strength here, allowing her the luxury of standing still during a battle. Everywhere she looked the enemy soldiers were falling.

She breathed harshly through her nose. Perhaps she had been mistaken? Perhaps Hashnak's warnings had all been for naught?

However, the brief reassurances were all forgotten, smashed to irretrievable pieces as it tore through her body, rumbled through the earth beneath her, shattered the very air all around her.

A roar.

She looked up, terrified yet knowing.

The lion – the one that was supposed to be dead, stood, bathed in golden light on a white precipice high above her and at his back came an army.

She staggered in terrified disbelief for a moment. The horrified exclamations of similar disbelief from those around her were nothing more than a distant din in her ears.

She turned and ran, fear and adrenaline fuelling her exhausted limbs.

She couldn't have cared less if she had run past the White Witch herself. She realised she had feared the wrong one all along.

How could she have thought that the tall, pale witch with her now shattered sceptre, could possibly win against the lion that had defeated death itself?

As she ran, blood pounding in her ears she saw Dranic poised with his blade held high, darkened with ruby blood, ready to bring it down on – with a jolt of shock, she saw Dranic's intended victim; the dark eyed boy who had shattered the witch's sceptre.

She didn't think twice. Her pain only seemed to fuel her on as she barrelled straight into Dranic. And despite her considerable slighter frame, she was able to take him unawares and pummel him to the ground.

A vicious snarl was ripped from Dranic's throat and for a moment she could only feel her breath hitch in her throat, as she saw Dranic's black sword arc through the air towards her, before it stilled suddenly.

"Runt?"

She looked up, eyes wide, before events snapped into place around her and she remembered why she had just taken such an impulsive and reckless action.

"Dranic, we need 'a get outta 'ere," she rushed together quickly, clutching her left side as after the initial adrenaline fuelled by her fear began to ebb, the pain began to set back in.

Dranic growled at her, before his eyes flitted upward and he stood abruptly blocking a silver, arching sword before killing its owner.

"Wha' d'ya fink yer doin' runnin' 'bout ta place…" Dranic began angrily, once more looming over her.

"Listen ta me! We gotta go – get Ruitak, Druhk."

He looked to her, breathing harshly, before his eyes darted away again. He tensed ready for another fight but the enemy he had spotted was suddenly engaged by another.

"Runt, look ya gotta get yerself somewhere low n' hide," he told her, making to move away when her arm shot out suddenly grabbing his wrist.

"Gah Dranic! I seen 'im!" Something in the very palpable fear in her trembling eyes made him pause and he stared at her intently, teeth bared.

"The lion – he's 'ere. I saw 'im, n' he's brought a' whole army wif 'im," she surged upwards, clutching onto Dranic's forearm now with all her strength, her eyes wide in stark fear.

Dranic paused for a considerable moment before he shook her off roughly, and she fell to the ground with a strangled yelp, gritting her teeth uselessly against the pain.

"Yer liein'. Big cat's dead," he accused, but there was a sceptical glint to his ruby red eyes.

"Nah – I'm not," she shouted back fiercely, her expression earnest.

And suddenly they both heard it; a fierce battle cry that rose like a tide fast approaching them.

Dranic's head snapped around, her own rising to look up the green slope, dotted with boulders.

For it wasn't the harsh guttural disharmony of their army, it was a song of victory – for their enemy.

"Go – run."

"Dranic?!"

"GO!" Dranic bellowed, pushing her roughly away and further down the hill.

She stumbled, hesitated, remembering Hashnak's words.

Be ready to run if things start to look bad…

Things were looking bad alright, she thought inwardly. But surely Hashnak didn't mean she had to abandon…

She lifted her head, opening her mouth to call for Dranic, but he was gone. And all she saw at the crest of the green slope barrelling down them was hordes of more of the silver army.

She ran then, stumbling and falling, half-tumbling and half-sprinting down the green slopes. Her legs were burning, her ribs were on fire, her shoulder was ablaze and crimson blood burned its way up her throat until its coppery taste filled her mouth, but still she ran.

She pitched forward suddenly, struggled to right herself in time, tumbled forward with an alarming speed, narrowly missed disembowelling herself with her own obsidian blade; collapsed, shaking at the bottom of her descent.

Her panicked breaths rattled out of her battered ribcage, and she wondered briefly if it wouldn't just be less trouble to stop struggling for each painful gasp of air.

She could no longer feel her left arm. Her feverish skin was drenched in a cold sweat as her body convulsed; finally giving up due to its intensive loss of blood.

She rolled onto her back, looking up at the clear sky, a fantastic bright clear blue. It made her think of cool crisp water on her tongue, instead of the bitter, metallic tang of her own blood.

This night has lasted long enough…

The dawn had come at last.

For a brief moment she wondered if Hashnak had already seen this; that she would die here on this battlefield.

She felt a surge of malevolent anger that Hashnak would so willingly let her go into battle then, but the anger evaporated almost instantaneously.

She knew Hashnak wouldn't do that, and even if Hashnak had of suspected; it mattered little either way now.

This battlefield, and the clear blue dawning sky of their victorious enemy, would be the last things she would ever know.


So your thoughts hopefully? Constructive criticism, questions etc. whatever; I really appreciate even a few words of feedback.