Rayvin sat up in her bed and stretched. It was dark except for the torch burning against the wall, but she knew it was morning. She swung her feet off the side of her bed and shivered, thinking of what would happen that day. She and Nor had stayed up until early in the morning, poring over military strategy books they had taken from Moonzaar and consulting General Mathepua and his troops, of which there were only seventeen.
The odds were against them; there was every chance that they could die, including Savina. For a moment, Rayvin wondered why they were risking themselves and their people for a girl they hardly knew. Remembering the look on Savina's face, Rayvin smiled, confident they were doing the right thing.
She knew why Nor was helping Savina. He saw the spirit of the people in her eyes, he saw the passion he envied in her every move, he heard loyalty in her every word, loyalty that he though he had forsaken in the face of danger. He had left his father to die in the clutches of the Dark Lord, though he had saved the MoonElf race form extinction, Rayvin knew he would never forgive himself. It was Nor's way of fixing the past.
Acting on habit, Rayvin started to put on her usual clothes, loose pants with a knee-length tunic over it, but then she paused, reminding herself again what would come to pass.
With a sigh, Rayvin opened the trunk at the end of her bed and slowly took out one of her most prized possessions…her mother's armor.
It was beautiful armor, crafted by the finest craftsmen known. It was silver-white and polished so perfectly that Rayvin could see her face in the breastplate. She gazed down at her face, wondering if it was the last time she would see herself. The strange look in her eyes made her want to cry.
She fastened her breastplate and back plate on with the leather straps and buckled the greaves onto her lower legs and the quisses onto her upper legs. She was strapping the paldron onto her right arm when there was a knock at the door. Rayvin glanced up, wondering if it was her brother, then yelled, "come in."
The door creaked open and Savina stuck her head in, looking tired. "Good morning," she started to say, then her words caught in her throat as she noticed what Rayvin was putting on, "Rayvin…what are you doing?"
Rayvin buckled the paldron and started on the other one, "I'm putting on my armor."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want a blade sticking out of me three minutes into the battle," Rayvin replied calmly, grunting and pulling at a strap that wasn't cooperating. She pulled the strap into place and looked up at Savina for the first time and smiled, "maybe five minutes, but not three."
Savina stared at her, her eyes large and her mouth hanging open, "Rayvin, I don't…I mean…"
Rayvin pointed to the small, medallion-like bits of armor that protected her armpits, "hand me a bezagew."
Savina didn't move, didn't speak.
Rayvin straightened up and stared at her expectantly, "what?"
"You don't have to help me," Savina bit her lip, "I'm not asking you to."
"I don't need to be asked," Rayvin reached over and picked up one of the bezagews, "neither does my brother," she added as she fastened it onto her breastplate.
"Your brother?" Savina's eyes widened in horror, "he can't do that! He's the king, where will the people be if…" she trailed off, "I'll go alone, three is not much different than one."
Rayvin picked up another bezagew, "actually there will be twenty-one of us," she heard Savina make a sound like the squeak of a mouse and glanced up, "our General and seventeen of his men are coming, too." She glanced around, "where is my helm?"
Savina glanced around and spotted it sitting on the desk behind her, she picked it up, but made no move to hand it to Rayvin.
"Oh, you found it, thank you." Rayvin held out her hands for it, but seeing Savina's look, she lowered her hands and put them on her hips, "Savina…"
"I can't let you risk your life for me," Savina chewed her lip so hard she could taste blood in her mouth.
Rayvin surveyed her coolly for a moment, then shrugged, "fine, we don't do it for you, we do it for our people. Give me my helm please, there's hardly much use in putting on armor if I'm going to get my head lopped off."
Savina made a sound like a wounded animal and dropped the helm with a clunk, then fled from the room.
"Savina?" Rayvin listened for an answer, but only heard the slam of a door. She sighed, then bent and picked up her mother's helm and slid it over her head and face. Her long black hair spilled out from under it and poured down her back. She slipped the gauntlets onto her hands over leather gloves and picked up her sword, buckling it around her waist.