A loss of Innocence
Elizabeth's first time killing a man.
In that second, the chaos around her slowed, granting her perception. Her heart thundered a beat and her entire body shook with a ragged inhale of breath.
Will had taught her how to handle a blade, the proper footwork, how to regulate her breathing and keep her head clear during sparring, to control the flow of the fight and use it to her advantage.
Will had done his best to infuse upon her a strong defense, to anticipate her opponent's next move and simultaneously calculate a counterattack.
With his teachings, she'd become adept with a sword, but all the instruction had not prepared her for this very moment and what would follow.
Her first kill.
Her steel penetrated his body between the ribs, the action surprisingly smooth, the hilt of her sword met his chest bringing her up face to face with the man in her grip. His mouth moved and even though no sound came forward, she knew very well what he'd labeled her. "Pirate."
Her heart raged. His ruptured.
Warm blood exited from the wound, seeping at first, then rapidly spilling from the pierced flesh. Its color tantamount with the man's uniform, as if the fabric itself was melting away, parallel with his own existence.
She can feel its warmth on her skin, accusing and unforgiving. She is forever stained, not the fabric of her clothing, but that of her own being.
The lifeless body collapsed on the deck, freeing her weapon and giving her guilt pause, yet she sensed her innocence being pawed by the acumen of her sin. She'd have the rest of her life to figure out how to cope with what she'd done in the passed seconds.
She had killed. Committed murder.
Her heart pulsed again, she exhaled, and moved on to the next man.