Well, after much delay based on a mixture of finals at Uni (still maintained the 4.0), work and laziness. I bring yet another installment in this series. Like Ludveck, Mia had a lot of potential to be a truly interesting and fun character. She has the heart and spirit to keep me entertained and a ridiculous motivation to bring a smile to my face but at the end became just a plucky sidekick compared to others. So hopefully I bring some more character to her. Please enjoy Dame of the Hunt!
The rain began to fall as Mia looked for her opponent, knowing that she was somewhere around here. In the distance, thunder rumbled as if the heavens themselves trembled in anticipation for what was to come. One drop touched her face, and another to her studded shoulder pad. An arctic wind carried the cold water every which direction, splattering her face with its icy potential that would wear down mountains and take life so much as create it.
Beneath the battered moutain slopes, her friends and allies were fighting to hold off the rest of the small war band of these creatures. They were called flayed ones for both the skins they would take from their fallen opponents while the more ironic name was given because of their fleshless automaton forms. Mia knew them only as fearsome opponents, and the destined one she sought for so long was sitting in front of her.
The Huntress, the title Mia heard her called by those fortunate enough to escape its wrath, began to wrap a chain around her wrist that connected to her blade. Link by iron link with an almost hypnotic rhythm. Mia turned her head in an almost amused manner as she pointed the tip of her blade at the metal bonds. "Why do you do that?" The Huntress did not look up and kept her focus entirely on the links, coiling them tighter, tighter.
Even at this distance, the Huntress was a fearsome phantom of death. Perfectly sculpted baroque armor fit the butcher like a second skin, and shined with stainless purity. Long hair, white as hoarfrost hung down her back tied in a battle braid. The sword, a curved weapon clearly of a much older age done by the work of artisan hands. But the thing that drew Mia's attention the most was the ever-changing face plate. It held the face of a lion carved with ribbons of jade along with two sapphire teardrops coming from each eye, but the metal it looked as if it was in a constant state of burning and healing. It had an almost liquid texture to it, but it remained a solid defense.
Mia spun Alondite around with armored hands, the heavy bastard sword seemingly as light as a feather in her grip. Droplets of rain scattered as she cut the falling water. She chuckled as she brought the blade to an abrupt halt. "Are you afraid of losing your sword? A blade is freedom, mistress of murder. It is the wind, and the storm flash. As you chain it, so to do you chain yourself."
The Huntress was not listening, and Mia knew that in her mind the world was focusing into a point around that sword. To the flicker of it in the light followed by the instant after it where they would be in the red moments of bloodshed where they would do what they did best. To be lost in the place where the mind and body are one, a weapon crafted by powers far beyond their own mortal abilities. Mia felt a background pulse in her head as she did the same to her own weapon.
This was her world, as much a part of her as was the air that filled her lungs and the blood that flooded through her veins. Alondite was a weapon that she was almost alone in being worthy of carrying into battle. It had a long history of being wielded by both heroes and wicked souls. Mia hoped that her life would add to the glorious rather than infamous part of the weapon's saga. It was the final gift from her last master and true friend, one she still tried to emulate every day.
It was a heavy sword, almost as tall as she was and very heavy. Her fighting style was no longer her fluid form she had earned prowess with in the great wars of old, but she was ever the vanguard and exemplar of her craft. She looked at the silver blade, flawless in the design and the grains of metal moved in patterns unable to be replicated by human hands. Time began to grow heavy, moving slowly like oil over agitated ice. She flexed the grip on her weapon, feeling the weight shift as she let it dance between her fingers.
Mia never thought she would actually meet her white robed rival, but she could scarcely believe that it would be a creature of living steel and dark intentions. Not the most ideal rival but there wasn't much of a choice.
In fact there never was any choice. Even if this was not her destined foe, as unlikely as it would be, killing this wench would be fine work for the rest of the world. Mia raised the sword upwards until the guard was horizontal to her collar bone. She took in a deep breath of air, feeling the rise and fall of blood in her body, then looked to her foe.
"Do you not want to know my name?" Mia asked as her opponent began to twirl her scimitar, the ribbons of illustrious forged steel slicing through the droplets of rain that fell. Armored hands blurred as with ease the opponent handled a weapon as if it were light as a feather. The Huntress abruptly stopped her blade with a snap in front of her eyes and held it face out at a ready position low at her waist. When she spoke, the weight of eons came with it.
"I know of your name, Mia, The Lady of Crimea, Exarch of Steel, and the Death that Comes with a Smile. Such titles are inconsequential, for they are given to honor or desecrate. The sycophant and the subjugated. Ally and enemy alike. The question is if you know who we are by our deeds? If you see us and what we are fully capable of, then we are fearsome opponents indeed." Her voice was unfeeling, monotone, but there was something in it that made the words feel as dangerous as the sword in her hands.
A drop of rain fell on the tip of the scimitar and slowly moved down. The moment stretched out to infinity, the only sound was the impossibly distant sound of the Huntress and the thud of their hearts. The voice that spoke was like a whisper in her ear. "But that is nothing at your peril if you cannot see us. Then all you will hear and know is our laughter."
The droplet of rain fell from the blade.
In an instant the Huntress let out a wail that would shame a banshee, Mia had to force herself to endure the pain and raise her blade instead of dropping it to cover her ears. The Huntress leapt high with unnatural agility and brought the blade crashing down upon Mia with a ringing of steel against steel. The impact was so powerful that Mia would have broken her sword arm at the wrist were in not for years of training that allowed her to spread the impact through her body to absorb the shock of the blow.
Mia skidded herself backwards, almost losing her balance for but an instant of the wet stone. She swung in low, keen on cracking the aegis of metal that protected her opponent's side. The Huntress, however, leapt backwards at the last possible moment that lead Mia to cut nothing but droplets of water. Mia brought the sword back and held it at a downward angle. The Huntress whirled back in, the blade nothing more than a greyish blur around its body. A simple counter stopped the blade mid-stroke and Mia struck out with a closed fist.
She instantly regretted it as her knuckles connected with only the steel face mask of the jaded lion as it suddenly hardened mere moments before, and her opponent threw her off balanced with a simple application of weight on the unbalanced Alondite. Mia rolled away from the execution swing. She felt the impossibly sharp blade touch her hair and took a locket off with the barest of glances.
Back on her feet, Mia swung her blade again and again until she was nothing more than a furious tempest of blurred steel mixed with scattered rain. Brining down blow following blow, the Huntress laughed that soul damning laugh as she ducked and pushed aside each strike of the blade. The rain whipped all around them, Mia's hair was a wet mop that cracked like a lash with each sharp movement of her body.
Their swords clashed again, and Mia could tell that her opponent was no longer smiling under that helmet. The Huntress had expected a short bout, a skirmish of minor proportions. Mia was glad to have proven her wrong. With a grunt of strength, Mia pushed her opponent away from her, giving about seven paces from each other. Her strength was tested, however she was still full of enough stamina to see her rival fall. "You are everything they say you are." The Huntress said in between breaths.
Mia saw the twitch of her opponent's sword wrist and quickly moved to the right to dodge an incoming thrust. "And you are more." Mia was not paying attention. Her mind was focused on the world of thrusts, slices, parries, angles and strength. The discipline of the blade flowed through her body as the breath in her lungs and the blood in her veins.
Mia swung her sword again, striking a blow on the face plate of the Huntress. An ear piercing wail escaped the Huntress's lips and Mia saw the wicked scar across the metal. But also impossibly it soon began to flush over, reforgeing in mere moments. Mia swore colorfully under her breath, and was soon back peddling from the constant onslaught that burst from the Huntress.
Her back slammed against a solid rock wall and had but a moment to roll away. Rather than sparking against the rocks, the blade of the Huntress cleaved clean through the solid bulwark of granite. A tumble of rocks fell down next to her and she kicked them aside. It gave Mia an opportunity to catch her breath but it was fleeting as she brought up Alondite in a defensive posture a moment too late and was knocked off her feet. The sword was bashed from her grasp and it went circling away from her.
Mia sucked in the cold wet air and tried to crawl over to the sword but felt a boot crash down on her back and an elongated arm scooped up Alondite with little effort. The huntress looked the weapon over and gave the blade a single twirl. "Beautiful." She brought the blade pointing down. "Then again, Antila always did know how to pick a good blade."
The sword thrusted down and Mia grabbed the blade tightly with fingerless leather gloves. The steel was digging through her armor. Her blood trickled down the slight fuller and the razor edges. Mia gritted her teeth in pain, throwing every iota of force her body could draw upon to removing the offending weapon from her hands. "Such a shame, little girl. I went through the trouble of burning and slaughtering a shire to light your way. When I drag you screaming into the realm of death with your scalp as my reigns to the nightmares beyond, I want you to struggle!"
"Leave her, monster!" Mia looked to the side and saw Rhy's bruised and bloodied form with a gathering sphere of holy radiance mixed with a crackle of electricity. There was a sharp tang of ozone in the air, and Mia rolled to the side, allowing Alondite to clutter uselessly against the granite. The orb flew in the Huntress's direction but the thing eluded the blow though the sanctified flames scorched the stainless metal.
"I will broker no interference in my hunt, prophet of the betrayer!" The Huntress lashed out her arm and the living metal extended with to form a whip like form made of unbroken chains. It flashed out and wrapped around the healer's neck. With a simple command gesture, the rope bucked up three meters before bringing it and the wounded Rhys crashing down to the ground with bone splintering force.
Slowly like a Fishing Spider dragging in its prey, the Huntress called back the links of metal that soon fused back into her armor. "There are wonders beyond these mountains which you arrogantly cloister yourself behind. Wonders where empires are born and die in the blink of an eye! And I could use a traveling companion, your pretty skull with be hung from my mount's neck so that your witch lightning will herald my arrival. Would you like to see them with me?"
"No!" Mia kicked up her blade and brought the blessed weapon crashing down on the living metal, severing the connection to it and its wielder. She placed herself between the pale faced red-headed healer, using her body as a shield to protect him. "This is fight between us! My fate is to face my white robed rival alone!"
The Huntress stopped entirely, before she broke out in another chorus of laughter. Mia remained resolute, her hands gripping the blade of her sword tighter. Perhaps that is why the Huntress used those iron links to bind her sword to her. "Oh, so that is what has brought such a sad and lost child out to test me? A fairy tale brought you out of your daydreams in a worthless life? Well child, at the end of this bout we will know how this tale ends."
The Huntress held her hand out to encompass everything, and the images flashed in the back of Mia's mind. The charred plantations of Begnion, the slaughtered caravans, and the message the wounded Ilyana bore her. It all flooded her senses…