Chapter Four – The colour of blood…gold or red?

Thank you to my reviewers I take all your suggestions and comments into consideration for the next section so if you have any requests let me know . This is only my second fanfic so I'm still getting into it! Anyyyyway here's the next chapter!

I can't tell you what it really is…
I can only tell you what it feels like.

And right now there's a steel knife
In my windpipe

I can't breathe
But I still fight…
While I can fight.

The castle was quiet now. There were no children playing outside, no girls being courted by future suitors, no laughter. She guessed it was because happiness and joy were not restrained.

Fear was silent. It did not utter a sound, but rather suffocated any shred of hope left in the castle. Knowing she could have been that hope struck silence into Aya. Every thought was blackened by her failure, a poison which seeped into her conscience at any chance.

At twenty years old, Aya was now old enough to venture outside of the castle grounds without Walter. Though she was supposed to take soldiers with her, Logan never seemed bothered by her lack of companionship and his reluctance to spare soldiers worked in her favour. She had been able to transport bags of gold to nearby towns, dressed as a commoner. A small smile played on her lips as she remembered Logan's comment the day before, if only he knew how much of his money was going to those 'commoners'. Bundling gold from the treasury into several bags at dawn had become a small pang of revenge against Logan.

Aya slipped silently into the gold filled room and couldn't help but think she was merely recycling the money back to its rightful owners. She may not be a hero but she would not see her people starve. Today's delivery was especially important as it was to be taken from Bowerstone Market by several men involved in her own little revolution against Logan. The gold was to go to Snowpeak Valley and as Alana's face flashed before her, she bent down to the sickening shine of the blood money. Quickly filling three bags with the gold, she tied them to her belt and covered herself up with her coat.

As she exited the treasury, she began to hear the sure sounds of the castle waking up and quickened her pace to the weaponry. Her mother had left weapons for her and Logan, though none of them ever felt right in her grip. The only sword she had ever used was one that she and Elliot had found one day on their adventures of the castle. Her dog had begun to dig madly near the entrance to her mother's grave and it had taken them hours to dig up the impressive sword. Walter had been shocked, Thunderblade, he had told her. Picking up the golden weaved sword, the handle still felt as warm to her as the day Elliot had handed it to her. His clothes had been ruined from the digging and although the blade had been too heavy for her to carry then, he had gladly carried the weight for her. Now the weight in her palms was just right, maybe Elliot still carried some of the weight for her. Turning away from the forever cold weapons she placed the sword at her back and made her way down to the kitchen.

She didn't see Walter until she felt a tug on her arm as he tried to get her attention. She swallowed loudly; this wasn't part of the plan.

'Princess?' he queried. Aya couldn't help but notice the dark circles under his eyes, the unshaved shadow on his jaw. Guilt ripped through her.

'Good morning Walter,' she said cheerily, squeezing the older man's arm in comfort, 'I'm going to find some deer…maybe then we won't need to tax the people so much for our own food…' she finished lamely. Luckily for her, Walter wanted so badly for her to be the morally right queen Albion needed that his delusions clouded his sense. Smiling warily at her, he embraced her quickly and patted her shoulder.

'You're a good girl,' Aya cringed inwardly at this, 'be back before supper, your brother wishes to introduce you to somebody.' Walter looked slightly distressed about this but Aya knew if she didn't leave now she would be late to meet her men.

'Of course, Walter,' she forced a smile and pulled away from him, leaving him with a sad smile on his face that she knew all too well.

The frozen air made her gasp as she stepped into the cold, the wind whipping straight through her. How incongruous that once she had loved winter, she would now do anything for summer to make her travels easier. The snow was already melting into her slippers but she pushed deeper into the wind and out through the castle gates. She missed the companionship of her dog but could not risk being noticed as the princess or her entire cause would be ruined, the lives of her men in danger. Clutching her coat to her tightly she could barely see through the falling snow swirling down the path ahead of her. Lowering her face to the wind she trudged forward, the snow now past her ankles. She let her thoughts drift as she followed the familiar path and smiled at the thought of Alana's face when she told her that her family would no longer go hungry.

Suddenly a bang rang out through the valley and Aya stopped abruptly trying to locate the source of the sound. Looking around her she could only see a swirling mass of white and a lump started to form in her throat. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all. Swallowing back the vile taste of fear she listened hard for any other sounds but could make nothing out over the howl of the wind. Taking a deep breath of frozen air, she started out again, her feet so numb she could barely feel them anymore. She didn't hear anything more and cursed herself for being so stupid. It had probably been a tree breaking in the wind.

Before that thought had fully calmed her down she heard a louder bang, one that echoed through the valley. The pinch she felt in her shoulder went ignored as she reached for the sword at her back. The heat of the handle against her frozen palm was like fire and she welcomed it. Slowly black figures crept through the snowy haze and into her view. Narrowing her eyes against the wind she counted. Six.

Clenching her jaw and her hand around the blade, she slid her feet apart to gain better balance. She saw the bandanas and the black raven painted on the shirts of the bandits as they crept closer.

'Hello pretty,' one of them sneered over the wind, now almost close enough to touch. 'What you doing all alone out here?' the others grinned menacingly and Aya swallowed past the lump forming in her throat.

Without leaving them time to say anything more, she palmed the sword and drew her arm back, flicking the blade across the first man's throat. The gurgle of blood was not heard over the scream of the wind but the cries of his men as he fell to the ground blasted through her ears. His blood stained the snow at her feet as she spun to the two men behind her, their blood soon mingling with the smear of their friend's blood on her sword. The curved blade knocked their swords away and came down hard upon them, slicing through black cloth and flesh. Blood marred her clothes and hands but she did not stop to think before turning to the remaining three who looked shocked but still determined.

'Get her!' one of them cried before they all ran towards her, their feet leaving gashes in the snow. His sword came hard down upon hers and she kicked his shin hard making him fall to his knees. Her sword sent his head tumbling towards the remaining two men as she took the opportunity at her feet. By now she was panting heavily and blood soaked, her left arm dripping steadily onto the snow. She looked towards the standing bandits as she kicked the severed body of their friend to the ground. She knew she transformed into a hard cold killer when faced with these men, knowing they would hold no mercy for her or her people. A black veil covers her thoughts, her conscience and her gag reflex. The blood splattered on the ground below her was nothing compared to the blood of her people spilled. This is what she thought of as she raised her sword once more, blood running down its curved tip. She could no longer feel her feet or her left arm but did not stop to consider why.

The men in front of her looked at her in shock, then at each other to confirm their plan of action. Sending her one more quick glance, the men turned and ran. It took Aya several minutes for her heart to stop racing, her chest to stop heaving and the black band to ease away from her thoughts. Closing her eyes she stepped away from the mess below her and walked several paces down the road until the bodies were swallowed up by the swarming snow. It was only now that the searing pain hit her, almost knocking her back. She shrugged off the left arm of her coat, not needing to pull off the dress to know that the shot earlier had hit her through the shoulder. The once blue cloth was now an ominous black, the blood pooling in her palm. Clenching her fist, the crimson liquid seeped through her fingers and dripped onto the ground below her. Looking forward into the storm, the ever-growing lump in her throat threatened to choke her.

She was lost.

This was a bit winded but completely necessary for the story…don't fear Elliot will appear sooner than you think :p. Reviews much appreciated! xx