Well, here is the final chapter for the story. I had a bit of fun writing it and I have a lot more story ideas coming soon for this saga. Thanks for reading and please enjoy the conclusion.
The roar is what drew Mia out from her recollections, the sound of a mighty animal shattered the silence between her and the Huntress, who for a moment looked to see where the sound came from.
There it was; the moment she needed. Hefting Alondite with wounded hands, Mia strode forward with a wordless cry upon her lips. The Huntress realized the attack too late to properly defend herself, and the blow found its mark. The sword collided with the fair amount of armor protecting the side of the Huntress, however even the twice-blessed blade could not hope to truly rupture the plate and cause mortal wounds. Still, it was a painful blow that set the Huntress off guard as the attention momentarily was taken to the impact.
Mia swung again and again, each blow colliding with the Huntress' steel, but the result was always the same. The damage the sword sought to cause was negated by the armor or the Huntress regaining her footing to parry the blade blows. Now as the rain raged around them with unparalleled ferocity, Mia found it harder to gain her own footing. The Huntress, however, seemed to be rejuvenated by the rain and now that wound no longer seemed to harm her. The Huntress now fought with a mixture of anger and determination. The curved blade was hefted like an executioner looking at a condemned soul, then the strikes came.
Blow after blow collided with Mia, who tried to raise a defense but for each blow deflected from the onslaught, there would be only more. Death by a thousand cuts, like a cat playing sadistically with a captured mouse. Rhys was critically injured, and would not be able to heal her wounds, so Mia had to deal with this alone. She swung out, using the best of her agility to try and gain an upper hand against the foe. However, it was like trying to strike a stone covered in fog. For every blow that connected, three would miss and they would be just as many coming back against her. Unlike her normal demeanor, Mia began to swear audibly under her breath at such misfortunes.
The Huntress brought down her blade, but Mia ducked down, low enough to hide under a lip in the rock above her head, and scooped up the silver Alondite mid shaft of the blade. She expected the sword to carve through the granite once again, but even with enchanted living metal, there is only so much damage a weapon can deal and still keep the edge keen. The blade of the Huntress penetrated the rock, but the weapon became lodged within the stone. The Huntress was taken by surprise just as much as Mia was, and she tried to dislodge the weapon.
Mia then saw a weak point, a fatal one. Under the shoulder plate, there was nothing more than a thin strip of cloth protecting the armpit. A simple strike would pierce the auxiliary artery, forcing the body to bleed their precious life source. If she could work that wound open with her sword, then it would be a death sentence. No one, not even the mighty Huntress could survive such a blow.
But, Mia realized that the wound would not be one that gave an instantaneous death. She could pierce the artery, but there would be enough time for the Huntress to withdraw her blade and hack Mia to pieces. Her life would be forfeit, but she would bring the foe down, though not before she was brought down herself.
As tempting as it was to die the death of a hero, Mia knew that there were greater plans involving her in the future. Mia looked down between her feet and saw that their melee had taken their toll on the ancient mountain they were fighting on. A large, jagged crack was underneath the both of them, and they were close to the edge, overlooking a cavern's open maw. The maw was about thirty feet beneath them, enough to seriously wound or kill anyone who descended into it. So, it looked like she was going to spit in the eye of fate.
She smiled and gripped Alondite tightly around the center of the blade. She brought the sword up and thrusted down on the crack. The blow was powerful, and it caused the stone they were sitting upon to shift and protest under their weight. Still it remained strong. Mia struck down again, blade glowing with a silver flame as she did so.
The sword buried itself into the stone with ease, and with a simple twist of the blade, she dislodged the piece of stone. Mia rushed away as the jagged stone fell down with the Huntress along with it. She watched with some satisfaction as she saw the murderess fall down, shocked at the audacity of such a maneuver. Mia smiled triumphantly at humbled monster who fell to her doom.
Fortune, however, was ever the fickle mistress. As she fell down into the chasem, the Huntress threw her arms out at Mia, long coils of the material soon wrapped around her ankles. Before so much as an eep could leave Mia's lips, she was pulled down with the Huntress.
The fall was a slow one, the event seemingly dragging out for a century. Mia closed her eyes, and whispered a quick final prayer to the goddess hoping to survive or a painless death. Whichever was the most merciful.
She felt a quick flash of cold wet stone against her skin and the sight in her eyes were snuffed out.
Mia spat the blood that pooled in her mouth out on the jagged rocks around her. Her left leg was burning with pain, and a few teeth in her mouth felt loose; definitely not one of her better landings. She screwed her eyes shut as she pulled one of her arms out of the rubble, then the next one still holding Alondite. She sucked in a breath of pain as she did each of them, but it reminded her that she was alive and if her body had the strength to complain about her injuries, then she was far from dead.
She opened her eyes and looked around where she was. She fell into the cavern, limestone and weathered granite surrounded her, jagged designs carved by the elements were all around. The maw she fell in was deep, and she expected to be overwhelmed by the sensation of cold from the shadows and altitude.
Yet all she could feel was… warmth. Not from the injuries, but all around her she felt warm and almost at ease. No breath could be seen in front of her eyes, and there was light ahead. Warm oranges and yellows, not cold heavenly white. Hefting her sword over her shoulder, Mia saw a trail of blood, plenty of it, leading towards the light. Mia could not help but smirk. As foolish as the plan that almost killed her it appeared that the Huntress was down. Now, to kill the wounded animal.
Mia could not help but smirk at the prospect. How the tides of fortune had changed, and now with a severed head to cement her role as a member of the Royal Crimean Knights with great things promised in the future. Now she could forge her own destiny the bards would sing of, that future started today! What would they call her? Mia the Slayer of Monsters? Mia, the Avenging Dame of Dunkirk? The scenarios offered-
Her thoughts were soundly silenced when she gazed upon what was inside the room filled with light. Stones were literally aflame with intense heat from a hearth like creation at the end of the space, it illuminated the entire room, which stretched down twenty meters and at least half as wide. Where Mia expected to see the same stone outside, now there were amazing mosaic carved from polished natural stone. Images of flayed ones, dozens of them waging war against creatures unlike any had ever seen. Teardrop rubies fell from the images, manifesting the wounds that were depicted. From behind them stood a small glowing gem stone that grew bigger and bigger as she walked down the rows, looking at each of the images that depicted battle after battle.
Yet not all of them were of slaughter, there were many that showed images of the flayed ones unarmored and unarmed talking with other races the further she walked down the hall like area. An image of one taking to common looking beorcs, another to the gathered leaders of the laguz with hands open in welcome. Then there was another with all of them kneeling to a pillar of pure light. Ashera, Yune, maybe Ashunera or perhaps some other being of divine creation. Above them were carved words in the stone in a language she did not understand. It was artistic, flowing and advanced well beyond what she had seen. Even the Zunanma and their language was not as imaginative as this.
All around her there were scattered pieces of daily life left there covered with dust. Tapestries fallen to the ground and threadbare garments laid haphazardly on overturned tables. Mia looked down to her feet and saw little figurines, commonly used to donate the placement of troop formations on a tactician's map, carved from a variety of stones, ranging from gravel rocks to gemstones of sapphires and emeralds.
Her gaze looked forward to the one in the center, the focal point of the mosaics. It depicted a lone flayed one, fully armored and coated in blue flame. In front of him was a young woman, also armored and with two swords tied to her back along with a similar pillar of light behind her. Her face appeared to be in a state of shock as the flayed one shattered a third blade over his knee. The inscription above the image was written in both her tongue and that of the flayed ones. Your sword as your oath. Such has become your honor, 'knight' of the betrayer!
And beneath that image laid the Huntress. She wore a simple cloth embroidered with runes, while in an iron bowl the living armor that covered her forearms laid. The rest was strewn chaotically around her, a blooded useless right arm laid at her side. Her breath was ragged and each one sounded like it took a day's effort to draw. Thick locks of sweat clumped hair was upon her head, matted with blood in some parts. The Huntress looked up, young features upon the blood red skin broken by tan tattoos that formed chaotic designs and surprisingly human eyes of light blue color. They were not aglow with anger and madness, and they would have invoked piety, were they not the eyes that had seen and done such horrible things.
She took in another breath of air and spoke in a very… shy tone. "This place… it has always brought me serenity. Here… I could-"Bloody spittle came out as the Huntress coughed, staining her simple cloth with light red liquid. "I could cancel his influence here… and here alone."
Mia readied her sword, awaiting the trap that she knew would come. The Huntress was obviously trying to distract her, bide the time to launch an ambush. Still, even with Alondite dangerously close and not a sword within reach for the monster… the Huntress did not move. If anything, Mia swore that the thing cracked a jagged smile. "But if you… you have that skill and blood… there may be hope yet."
"What do you mean?" Mia asked.
The Huntress laughed, but regretted it as she clutched her wounds in pain at the sudden movement. "Mia, do you think I orchestrated this all? That I raised a hundred and one towns across the continent under my own sword or by my command?" She coughed more blood, a torrent this time. "No… no, not by my hand or by my kind. We are but merely tools… tools once again to be used and disposed of once we are done. The Betrayer once… now this…"
Mia tightened her grip on the blade. "It does not matter. You killed those innocents. You butchered children and hung their corpses to dry like animals. Regardless if you are under the thrall of someone or not, this is a well-deserved punishment for all that you have done."
Another laugh, another wince of pain from the Huntress. "You… you have no idea the gravity of your words. I have lived over a thousand years. I was part of the great flood of iron and blood that swept everywhere else besides your homeland. I have known my death… would come for thirteen of your lifetimes. Do not think you can scare me with it."
"Then what scares you, mistress of death? Your doom at the hand of your fated rival does not frighten you?" Mia asked as she pointed the tip of the sword to the neck of the Huntress.
"I know where I go when I die. So I do not fear death at the hands of some arrogant child who has misinterpreted her runes. I am only afraid of what is to come for the mortal coil." Mia hesitated from driving the blade forward and cut the neck open. She looked into those eyes that had seen so much destruction and saw the honesty of those words. "After you kill me, place your hands into the metal. I don't know how much you will learn, but perhaps you can understand… if she was alive she would be proud of you."
She… who exactly was the Huntress talking about? Before the words formed on her lips, the Huntress yelled in pain. Blood vessels threatened to rupture from her skin as they turned a sickly black color. The voice became that demeaning tone once more and the eyes began to glow once again. "Please… please… kill me as I am!"
Without any moment's hesitation, Mia delivered the swift mercy kill. She drove the blade through the throat, all the way through the back of the neck, and kept going. Eventually the blade encompassed the whole neck and the head fell to the floor with a sickly thud. Blood gushed over Mia, who closed her eyes and felt the warm liquid fall over her.
She opened her eyes once the rain of mortality stopped and looked down at the head. The head was back to the peaceful creature before whatever came over her did. Possession? It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility, considering all that had happened it was a distinct reality.
Mia sheathed her sword unto her back as she stooped down to pick up the head by the matted locks, and was about to make her way to the exit. However, she eyed the living metal that awaited in the bowl. Perhaps to humor the corpse, Mia reached out and placed her left pinky finger in the metal. It was surprisingly warm, and while it felt unusual, it was an enjoyable sensation that spread to the rest of her hand, then to the arm.
Mia's head snapped to look as she saw the metal being to leave the bowl and crawl up her arm. She dropped the head down and tried to remove the liquid as it moved. However, it only spread to her arms and as soon as it started, it stopped as it covered her hands and forearms. As Mia's mind was still reeling, the metal began to constrict and glow with a variety of colors. Mia collapsed to the ground, her head washed with pain. An unforeseen wind whipped around her, smothering the flaming stones and set within her bones ice crystals from a hell winter.
She looked around and saw a gray green cloud descend around her, words in a language utterly alien to her ears carried themselves to her. Ghostly images of flickered in the clout like thunderheads, each displaying some action that burned themselves into her eyes for a moment, only to be forgotten seconds later. A flayed one cutting down a deformed monster with a chant to his tone, then there was two conversing over a table. Soon there were hundreds of them, riding on a variety of mounts with feathered banners behind them on their horses as they rode towards another army many times their seize. A slaughter, fire and smoke overwhelmed her senses. Mia shook her head, trying to dispel any images. This was not real, nothing like this could happen.
Then the winds were silenced. She looked around and saw a tall giant covered in a funeral shroud, fully obscured by the illusion cloud. A clawed hand extended with sickening magic dripping from the talons. Words flowed from the giant's lips. They were familiar, it was magic symbols from books she had heard Soren reciting during practice. However, there was no tome and even though this was an illusion, Mia could feel the awesome power pulsating from the spell.
The chanting grew louder, and louder until it overwhelmed her every sense. Mia closed her eyes tightly and screamed but she couldn't hear it or even feel the vibrations within her throat. Just when she thought she would bas out from the lack of air, the chanting stopped. She opened her eyes and was not blinded by a flash of sickly green light nor any other color. Instead she saw shadows from into the shapes of men, flayed ones. Hollow, disciplined, and loyal. The creature with the clawed hands directed them, and she saw the villages that were aflame. Dunkirk, the plantation, the caravan, even the mining city of Volus. All reduced with blood and fire.
The vision grew in intensity as more images of slaughter washed over her eyes. Death and destruction, it was everywhere. Just when she thought she was going to drown in this madness, something caught her eye. She saw a person made from pure white light riding towards her with the breaking of the dawn behind him. Clad in stainless white and a hood above his head with an ancestral weapon upon his lap, he stopped before her and held out his hand to raise her. She looked up and could not see his face under the light.
Perhaps the Huntress was not her true rival, she wore white but did not arrive with the dawn. Maybe there was no fated rival, and it was all a way for her to become the strong swordswoman she was today. Still, there was hope that she would get her chance to fight the great rival she dreamed about.
She took the hand made of pure light, and peace washed over her senses. All pain and ailments seemed to melt away as she surfaced from the nightmare.
Mia looked up and saw the granite roof above her head. It was a relief, and she looked to her arms. The metal was still upon her, but it was like a gauntlet and when she thought about removing it the mental began to curl within itself and formed a compact ball that fell into both of her palms. Mia felt a smile grow on the edge of her lips. These needed to be examined, and if she could use it, well it would be one more trick for her to have up her sleeves. Perhaps literally this time, she mused as she placed the two compact balls of living metal in a pouch upon her belt.
Mia rose from her floor and scooped up the head and made for the entrance of the cave, where she heard others gather. Behind her the lights of the stones finally flickered out, and plunged all that she had seen into impossible darkness. Mia continued forward into the lightning washed skyline. She saw Titania, Ilyana and Rhys wounded but alive. "We had heard the fall from the stone and feared the worse." Titania said. "Did she-"
Mia stepped back into the rain and the light, head of the Huntress held aloft for the three to see. "I think she is dead enough to see that head planted on a pike upon the Walk of Traitors. That is all that matters to me, as a warrior and as a Knight of the Crimean Rose. The Huntress shall hunt no more!"