Why does it always have to hurt so badly?
You would think after being beaten to a bloody pulp so many times, you'd get used to it.
But the thing the old songs and stories fail to mention is; you don't.
Sasha's mind slowly drifted up to consciousness once again. Her vision was an unsettling blurry red; the shapes gathered around her looked like dark specters, they seemed to be moving in closer.
They dragged her up and slammed her against the wall, her head bouncing against the wood painfully. She tried desperately to recall the last moments before she went under while the leader of the specters grabbed her chin and made her look at him. His breath stank of cheap ale, and his hands were covered in some sticky, foul smelling substance.
"You awake, boy?" Thanks the Gods they still believed she was a boy, else she had no doubt these filthy shems would have had their way with her by now.
Sasha must have taken too long to respond because he reminded her of his presence by driving his knee into her stomach. Even coated with the leather armor as it was- it wasn't good leather, just some threadbare pieces knit together and called protection- her body cried out in pain. Her eyes snapped open as the dagger like sensation rippled through her, bringing perfect clarity to her previously impaired vision.
Ah yes, these were the dirty shems that had ambushed her next to the tavern after she came out. They had shouted something about a knife ear being outside of the alienage, and come at her, all fists and legs and drunken fury. Normally Sasha would have dealt with them accordingly, but seeing as the nearby Denerim guard was looking over impassively, she knew fighting back would draw that polished silver sword of his. She had gone with the flight option, trying to weave her way through their stumbling ranks of the five idiotic shems, but one had grabbed her from behind, one she had not seen.
After that it was all a big melting pot of pain, she had no doubt something was broken. Her suspicions were confirmed when the pain settled into a hard spike near the bottom of her rib cage.
Sasha took a few hard gasping breaths and spat a reply before he could hit her again, "I'm awake." She knew it was foolish to take an attitude with the odds so insurmountably against her, but she couldn't hide the malice in her eyes and the poison dripping on her words. There was that damn guard, just watching.
The shem snarled, "Don't take a tone with me, boy. Now I believe we asked you a question before you tried to run like the slimy little knife eared coward you are." He gripped her collar tighter and grunted, "The Arl's son lies dead, in a river of blood that runs through the whole mansion. Any servants still there say that a knife eared bitch and her sniveling welp of an accomplice did em all in. Then they said the elf ran off to the Gnawed Noble to meet up with the boy, ready to skip town now that their kin were back in their rat hole of a home. Wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you now?"
Oh Gods, they thought she was Soris.
That meant if she could just buy a little more time, and he was smart enough to not charge in, he could get away-
"Put her down!"
The crack in his voice in the middle of his sentence did nothing for the sick feeling of dread that wound up in her stomach and gripped her tighter than even the drunken shem.
Soris stood behind them, the long sword they had picked up in the Arl's estate gripped feebly in his sweaty hands. He was shaking, and wobbling slightly; whether it was from fear, or the excessive amounts of ale he had gulped to "calm his nerves" once they had decided they should run, she did not know. He glared at all of them, and the guard's steely gaze fell on him like a hammer, Sasha cursed silently.
The men wouldn't be a problem, but that guard had thick metal armor, not to mention a shield, bow, sword, and no doubt years of experience.
But she would not let these bastards take Soris. She chose to act.
Sasha moved the moment her captor took his eyes off her. Her hands flew up to his head, which was already twisted back to look at Soris, and grabbed his chin with one hand, and the back of his head with the other. She pushed one arm forward, and wrenched the other back.
With a sickening crack, the life fled from him instantly. As soon as his grip on her slackened she was on the nearest of them. They had taken her weapons so she landed a vicious kick to the side of his head that sent him sprawling. Once he was down she roared in the next ones face, making him stumble back in shock. Taking that moment of hesitation she burst forward, slamming into him with all the force in her body. He hit the ground hard, his head cracking against the cobble stones.
Sasha's ears rang loud with her own heartbeat; it had only been a few seconds since Soris's arrival, he barely had time to look shocked. But when her eyes locked onto his, he knew what she needed.
Like a few hours ago he steeled himself, drew back his arm and threw the sword with all his might.
Catching it with one hand and feeling pain race up her arm Sasha snarled and brought it up just in time to block the next drunken man, who had brought out his own cheap dirk. These were obviously opportunists who thought they would make some quick coin by bringing in outlaw knife ears to the Arl, not experienced fighters like the quickly approaching guard.
Sasha cut down the last two men with relative ease and whirled around in time to be bowled down by the bear of a man. His silver shield slammed right into her and knocked her backwards. But Sasha was on her feet in a second, adrenaline coursed through her veins like it had replaced all of her blood.
The Guard was a seasoned swordsmen, she could tell by the way he backed up and circled around her. She held up her own sword the way her mother had taught her, and prepared herself when she saw his neck muscles tense. A moment later he barreled forward again, tucking himself behind his shield and drawing his sword back.
His size might be an advantage if he was fighting big opponents, or many. But for one like her, it was all she needed.
Sasha dove out of the way, and rolled across the ground to avoid the slashing arc of his sword, springing to her feet and slamming her back against the wall as his sword flashed past her in a jab.
The guard grunted, trying to spin in his heavy armor, and Sasha ducked under his arm, thinking this would be her way out. She knew she could beat him on foot, she saw just past this mountain of a man a side alley that could take them to the sewer grates. And she knew from washing clothes with the other elven women there every week that there was a rusted out grate that she and Soris could surely crawl through. The guard would be too big and it would take him too long to call reinforcements. They were home free if they could just get beyond his reach.
But he was faster than she gave him credit for, as she went under his arm, he stopped it in midair, and brought it down with a crack on the top of her head.
Sasha went down hard, stars dancing in front of her eyes and pain blossoming like a flower from the crown of her head, racing outward along the lines of her skull and down her back. She hit the ground and felt his metal coated foot come down on her back.
"You fought well, elf, but your time of breathing has long passed. May the Maker have mercy on you and your Kin."
She squeezed her eyes shut, able to picture his sword slowly rising up in the air, both arms gripping it, ready to deal the final strike.
The only regret she seemed to have at the moment was that Soris was still too stupid to run; she could hear his useless pleas reverberating through the dark Denerim streets.
"Stop!"
It was a strong voice, strong and sure. It rang out like thunder, deep like a crashing waterfall and smooth as a racing Halla.
They came down the alley like a mighty silver hurricane. Trooping down in two lines of ten, even in the darkness the blue griffins could be seen shining on their shields and armor. The armor that even a lowly elf like Sasha knew, it was the stuff of legends.
The knights had helmets decorated with blue plumes, huge shields that they seemed to heft with ease. Some looked like Nobles, some Barbarians with nothing more than huge claymores slung across their backs and furs stained silver around their necks. A few were women, dressed in dark hooded blue robes with silver trappings and buttons. Some were even elves, with slim custom made light armor and engraved quivers for bows and arrows that depicted racing griffons. They carried sleek silver swords at their sides and wore bands of silk that had beautifully embroidered Dalish clan markings on it.
They were such a sight that Sasha, still smashed down under the foot of the guard, with her face pushed down into a mix of dirt and her own blood, thought that she had already died, and these ethereal heroes of ages long past had come to take her to her mother.
But the man at the head of the group, who looked by far the grandest- even with his more modest armor of silver plate over long tan robes and double swords fastened at his sides- stepped forward. He had dark brown hair with streaks of grey pulled back into a small pony tail with a golden clasp to match the earring that hung from one ear. He wore a dusty travelling cloak as did the rest of them, some led horses that looked hot with fresh riding, Sasha noticed others that were abandoned with haste waiting faithfully farther back from the group.
The man stared the guard down with silvery eyes that glowed slightly in the darkness, "Put down your sword. You will have no more need of it," He raised his chin and pointed a silver gloved finger down at her; "I hereby invoke the right of conscription upon this woman and remove her into my custody."
It took the guard a moment, but Sasha felt the weight of his boot leave her back. She struggled to push herself off the ground but found her efforts useless as one of the knights came forward and scooped her up into his arms like she weighed nothing. He lifted his visor and smiled down at her with twinkling green eyes that were ringed with silver that were bright against deep tan skin, "Don't worry," He said softly, glancing over at the leader who was now speaking more quietly with the guard. Sasha saw him put a hand on the guard's shoulder; the man looked pale, and a little weak at the knees, the Knight continued, "Everything is going to be alright."
Sasha couldn't even muster up a thank you for this kind sh- human. As soon as she saw the Knight motion to some others to collect Soris and she was sure he would be safe in the hands of these legends come to life, she let herself slip into blissful darkness.