No. Mighty Ducks, the animated series not mine.
But Princess Ambrosia and story are mine
note: 2nd half of this chapter will jump from person to person - you have been warned... If you get confused, well... read it again, I'm sure it'll make more sense...
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...oOo...
.: Chapter VII :.
...oOo...
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"The Kingdom is going to War…"
Sun-kissed tresses shifted across his fair shoulder as he twisted himself to glare at the quiescent man uninvited. Throwing another scoopful of water over himself, he resumed his bath, "Why are you here…?"
"To have a word with you…" came the simple truth as the elder sat himself down, chocolate-colored robes folding under his legs, "We have much to discuss, young friend…"
"If it is to do with my brother – a King preparing for death…" the teen returned just as evenly, matching the grave tone his companion employed, "Then I beg silence…"
Still gray eyes watched the youth as he swam away from water's edge, standing only when he reached a small waterfall, beating down upon his lean frame. He raised his arms and held an opposite elbow in each hand, stretching the aching muscles there. Sparing a moment to face his face, he tilted his head back, enjoying the coolness streaming past his face…
"You are still a part of this land as any other…" the darker-skinned man spoke when the lad waded to shore, water dripping off his feathers, "And yet you will do nothing…?"
"It's his business, not mine…" the boy spat, combing his damp hair away from his face as he pulled the drawstrings of his slim trousers tight against his hips, "Besides, bandits don't associate with aristocrats…"
"I had thought you would not speak of him…" the plain man commented, handing the young rebel his cotton shirt. A glare hailed from the receiving end, sustaining the lad's claim from then on. Then a whirl, intending to ignore.
Tired eyes closed, "You know – all it takes is one…"
"Really…?" the departing man drawled, faux honey dripping from the edge of his tongue. He gave a short laugh, turning his head slightly to acknowledge the presence of that who had spoken, "Sad to say – it will not be me…"
And so the chasm between them grew, just as the shadows lengthened with the setting sun…
...oOo...
From the depths of the castle, hurried footsteps clattered against cooling stone, praying to bridge the distance between two people in time…
The image of the items she had left behind flashed before his mind's eye.
A key, a crown… One a sign of life's abandonment, the other marking an identity…
And the collaboration of events conceding to the possible notion of the Empress taking her own life began to feel very real…
"AMBROSIA…!!"
His bedchambers were dark, the candles unlit in their ornate stands. The arched leaves leading to the open landing were split, the translucent curtains billowing with the wind. The balconies were empty, as were the skies above and the ground below. But scattered beneath his boots, silver-white crescents shone in the moonlight. His fretfulness grew, No…!! After all that has happened, she canna have thought suici—
"M'lord…" a whispered word, the faint scent of rarest flowers beckoning from behind him, "Here I am…"
How he leapt to embrace this creature fair, whose calmed voice he had not heard for nearly a fortnight. "Dearest one, I was so afraid, so afraid… Blessed our Savior fair – you're alive… you're alright… you're—"
He stiffened suddenly, hands touching planes unfamiliar.
"—y-you're… not clothed…"
She blushed, ducking her head slightly into his chest.
"N-not… entirely true… my h-husband…"
He took several hurried steps towards the balcony rail, his arms leaving her waist. Released from his embrace so tight, her self-consciousness returned, hands sliding up herself, pink darkening to red…
He realized that though he could yet retain his argument, her own seemed not misplaced – upon her shoulders bare, a gown paled against gossamer's wings studded by morning's dew, whispering against her skin, modest femininity silhouetted behind her veil ethereal.
He swallowed thickly, "A-ambro… sia…?"
She peered past her braids undone, shy eyes seeking his own, lips trembling with quietest words, "I-I… sent for y-your company…"
His heart stopped beating. "M-my… company…?"
Careful, bashful nods, "A-ah…"
Not a surrender of mortality – but of love…? She never meant to give up on living – but for me… to me…?
She shivered, but not with dread, for she had decided there was little to fear from this man, far from the Devil himself she had encountered. He noticed her need. Undoing his cloak, he threw its warmth upon her thin shoulders. Cerulean eyes snapped upwards in questioning. The eyes reflecting hers radiated sweet tenderness, "I answer your call now, beloved…" a kiss to her palm, "Now, forever, and eternity…"
All she ever wanted was a home that would accept her, a family that would love her. Though her scars were fresh, the pain associated with them would haunt her no longer. As long as they had one another, there was nothing more to fear.
The child beamed at last, her acceptance unconditional.
It was she who leapt to the initiative, pale arms sliding past his girdled waist, tears of joy sparkling rivulets few. "My King…! My husband…!!"
He held her close with a hand, the other smoothing the mahogany cascade from her small crown. It mattered little this being he cradled possessed her people's curse, a serpent curling from her back… His blood-brother had spoken truth – he had blinded himself when faced with his disfigurement, her scarified skin seemed trivial in comparison. He had said he loved her once before, he would do so again—
"I… love you…"
—only this time, his lips had failed the confession, her voice finding it first.
"The night is cold…" he declared in hushed tones, stroking the tilt of her face. Though his eyes were unseeing, he could feel her smile as she finished his sentence for him, "Ah… let us prepare for bed…"
By this time tomorrow, chaos would reign over their lives…
But for now, two hearts afforded the luxury of love, before the seven h..lls descended upon their doorstep.
...oOo...
"Hal'bajaeth… desme seth'poralis… nethe raye'ruhm…"
"You should rest, Spellmistress…" a new voice joined her incantation, making her jump. She whirled in her chair, misjudged its stability, and began to fall—
"Easy there, Angel…" her visitor exclaimed, rushing forward to steady her stool, catching her as she yelped. "Now I know you're tired…"
"… the War Spells… for the battlefields…" she yawned, pointing a slender finger towards the aged manuscripts scattered across her workspace, "… must… make… preparations…"
"At the rate you're going, Angel, you'll be dead on your feet before you even hear them comin'…" the Knight argued, lifting her easily in his arms, "Come now – though the hours are few, you need your rest…"
She said nothing, as she was carried like an exhausted child to her bed. The covers were pulled over her robes, the contrasting colors making her look ever so small. Vulnerable her young appearance, yet such power in her palm… He smiled, brushing the fallen locks away from her face.
"Swordsmaster…" violet eyes peered past lifted lids. He drew closer, "What is it…?"
"I fear tomorrow…"
His smile began to waver, even as knuckles grazed her cheek.
"I know…"
Here was a sheltered soul never meant for such violence; her life was buffered by her well-loved books, her sacred duties… She embraced Life and all its warmth – next to their shared Master, he had the authority to command Death with a hardened heart. She had not witnessed the scenes he had seen, had not performed the deeds he had done…
"We may all die… y-yes…?"
"… Ah…"
She whimpered pitifully, curling unto herself under her quilt.
"Nevertheless, let the emphasis weighs heavily on the word may…" he continued, seeking to hold her icy hands. Confused eyes snapped towards him, "B-but you said—"
"You cannot hope to triumph with so little confidence… " soothing tenor graced her ears, "If you do, then the enemy has already won us over before this has even begun…
"Have faith, Dear Heart… as your people have in you…"
"My people…" she echoed, pupils staring off into the distance. Then a smile, befitting this child of ageless beauty, "Thank you, my friend… For speaking these words I needed to hear…"
The man nodded, pressing a kiss on his fingertips, then her forehead. "Sleep well, Angel…"
The doors clicked shut, privacy restored. Outside, Artermicia beamed, another succumbing to her lullaby sent from far, far away…
...oOo...
On the other side of the world, one was not so sure if the gods were as sane as they were claimed to be…
The heavens were mocking him, he was sure of it.
He'd been minding his own business – sulking in a tree, away from the communal fires – when they decided to smack some sense into him… Oh alright, he was exaggerating – a white feather had landed subtly on his newly uncovered birthmark…
A white feather…
It was a shame to discard such a beautiful gift from the gods – so lovely its make, fragile and light. But its color reminded him of his past – a past he wished to forget, to have had never been born with…
He had hoped to drown himself with the most potent vino stolen from the infamous lair's guarded treasury. Yet here he was, hours later found hanging lazily in a tree, leg and limbs suspended by branches yielding even under his slight weight…
The gleaming shard sat in his palm, waiting patiently.
"I hate you…"
Refreshed from plunging his head into the icy pond, his feet led him to the Leader's tent. Aged eyes widened with surprise to see him standing there – eyes bloodshot, hair disheveled, water still dripping from its edge…
Nonetheless, for one appearing so inebriated, his voice came out strong – "Father, we need to talk…"
...oOo...
"You have awakened early…"
"I did not sleep…"
"You should have…" came light chiding, though his heart was not in it to rebuke her, "The rotations ensured everyone was well-rested for—"
"I know…" she snapped, sheathing her sharpened blade with more force than required. A sigh, "I just dinna want to…"
"Too many uncertainties…?"
"Ah…"
He returned to her side with a silver goblet welled halfway, "Here…"
Emerald eyes narrowed suspiciously, "What's this…?"
"Mother said it was a wedding chalice…" her lover shrugged nonchalantly, "The choice to believe it, however, is entirely yours…"
"A WEDDIN—oh… I see…" was her colorful response, an eyebrow raised at the end of it. "Why…?"
"Why what?"
"Why are you doing this…?" she expounded, her left hand held up high, the golden band on her fourth finger gleaming in the dancing firelight, "First your ring, now this…"
He mirrored her position, the wineglass lowered onto the sill they shared. "You said so yourself – there are too many things we cannot be sure of…" he turned to her, burning amber against emerald fire, "I wanted to offer you at least one…"
Her breath caught.
Shakily, the glass was lifted, weighed in one hand.
"We may never survive tomorrow…"
"Ah…"
"No hope for a home, a family, a future…"
"Ah…"
"But you'll be with me, forever and a day…"
"Ah…"
"Then that's all I ask…"
The wine was drowned.
And over yonder, a new dawn was breaking…
...oOo...
A thick dark line inched towards the fortress, soulless creatures hacking and burning their way through the landscape. He took a shuddering breath.
"We ride with you, Your Majesty…"
His Personal Guard to his Left, his Faithful Sorceress to his Right.
"We come also, Your Majesty…"
Her Majesty's Knight behind him, and one other…
"The men appreciate your presence in this crucial time, beloved," the Monarch spoke firmly, grave eyes focused on his bride, "But it is too dangerous here – you should return…"
Her mare made no hesitation, the Magus' steed retreating respectfully for her Mistress to stand beside her husband. "I did not come here merely to send our people into battle…" though soft, her words were edged with steel, "I came to fight beside you…"
His glare darkened, "I would not allow it…!!"
The foreigner smiled, "I am spoken for…"
"Ambrosi—"
"Remember, Your Majesty…" an slim hand stilled his gauntlet, wild emerald sparkling behind a crimson veil, "You hold in your hands the most beautiful Angel to ever grace mortal eyes; but one false move against her whence her appendages are spread…"
Ahead of his horse, a maiden lowered her cloak. She turned to the sky, begging strength from above. From the depths of her protective armor, two majestic wings burst forth…
"… and she becomes the most dangerous living weapon set amongst men…"
Wine-mahogany eyes cleared, the King nodding once, "I remember now…"
The last line of trees disappeared, the enemy's first line of armored puppets sighted. The Crimson Terror stood on his platform mounted upon the back of a massive beast, protected on all sides by a mass of mechanical drones.
"ANNIHILATE THEM ALL!!" his bellow sounded across the plains.
The Crowned youth drew his sword, as did his Brotherhood and faithful legion. They raised their swords as one, a united cry echoed throughout the castle, "BY THE BLOOD AND THE BLADE…!!"
The War of their forebears began anew…
.
The Sorceress held out her hand, her only weapon a wooden staff crested by a crystal orb and a single climbing rose. The words of her ancestors stirred the skies, the clouds swirling above them. With one last cry, she slammed the rod into the earth. From the heavens a pillar shot downwards into her wand, this bridge between two worlds. The ground hiccupped under the jolt, a white arc sweeping across the lands, mindless pawns falling to bits…
On the other side, the more sinister Magick cursed and slapped his bony palm onto the soil, Dark Powers negating her Spell. The clash between twin forces created a rippling wall of red and gold…
The female magic-user collapsed onto her knees, panting and near tears, "H-he… He's stronger than I expected…"
"We are here for you…" to her astonishment, her maids surrounded her – some with baskets of nourishment, others carrying assortments from her workroom. Supporting her to her feet as they fanned her and arranged her books and instruments for her use before her, they assured, "Tell us what you need, Mistress…
"We have faith in you, always…"
Similar words from only a night before, spilled from honest lips. With that she nodded, her determination returned, "Let's try this one more time…"
.
"Nearly a third of their forces quelled…" one of his Brotherhood reported, steadying his eager horse, "We may have a chance yet…"
He raised his hand. Behind him, the sigh of bowstrings filled the air, the prelude to the song of War. Charging through the hazy cloud of dust left from their first attack, he waited for an opportunity. His Archers held fast to their arrows, hearts pounding, waiting for the hand to lower.
The signal was given. A thousand (and thirteen) missiles were fired, their targets falling to the ground looking like pincushions. As the second line at the castle turrets prepared their own bows, the first switched to their swords.
"Commander…?"
The Brotherhood Leader looked up to his Master upon a guarded platform some distance behind. The White King nodded, once. His Personal Guard grinned, "Sound the charge…"
A horn blared from the front. The lines moved, the roar of soldiers loyal to the Crown deafening.
A chestnut mare galloped beside him, their speed matched.
"You'll be with me…"
"… forever and a day…"
They shared a knowing glance before parting ways, each to their own Fates…
.
He caught her wrist.
"Come back alive…" he hissed urgently, red locked with blue. She gave him a grim nod, "This I promise…"
A heated kiss.
And he released her to the skies, this Angel of Salvation on his side.
Now, forever, and eternity…
.
He had lost an eye in a battle long forgotten. He would not lose anything this time around…
The crash of his blade disabled a flailing drone through its dead heart, its head ripped from its body. However, before he could pull back, another doll crashed into his horse, an axe hacking through its neck. His mighty stallion gave a strangled whinny towards the graying skies, before crashing to the ground, its master stumbling off its back. As he lay dazed and winded, a nameless ghoul loomed over him, its scythe-arm poised to strike—
A whistling short-sword flew past its arm, slicing it cleanly from its metallic joint. The scythe fell with a thud inches above the nearly unfortunate Knight's head. While the machine glared at its missing limb, he tore it from the ground and swung it towards its faceless mask before jabbing its tip into the glowing jewel at its torso area.
The hulk fell to pieces to reveal the smirking Lady Brotherhood, "Really, Fairest Knight, you shouldn't let your guard down like that…"
He grumbled, blood trickling down the side of his face, the small cut a result of his fatal fall. She had called him by his previous title, from a time where they were rivals before they were lovers. Well, two could play at this game – "Well then, Squire Girl, it would seem I owe you one…"
She winked playfully at him, "Indeed. I'd like you to live long enough for me to make good on that favor…"
He echoed her gestures, a devilish smile of his own falling into place, "Likewise, Sweetheart."
"Until we meet again…"
"… By the Blood and the Blade…"
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The drained Magus clung onto her servants shoulders fearfully. They held her close, patting her back and sponging her sweaty brow.
She had been blasting the opposing legion again and again, commanding the Great Powers from the heavens for several hours. Her Spell offered Her Kingdom small victories, if any at times. However, unlike the wizened Wizard used to such bloodthirsty spells, her neophyte body began to fail her…
"N-no use…" she heaved, collapsing by her books, "Right n-now, the Kingdom needs… a m-miracle… not a M-magician…"
Her attendants huddled around her, calming her fears. Then one peered over the wall and exclaimed, "Look, look – bandits coming from the woodlands…!!"
Eight others scrambled to their feet to share her observation. Amongst them, one began to smile, "Heaven hears the prayers of Her children – he comes at last…"
.
The blond youth yelped in alarm at the charging doll before disarming it, beheading it, and simply jabbing it full of holes – "What the H..LL are these things…?!?!"
"Head and hearts! Head and hearts!!" came the voice of a Knight bearing the Imperial Seal on his shoulders, hacking away at a nearby drone. The message was relayed to the gathering brigands, before rushing headlong into the crowded battlefield.
"What's that supposed to mean…?!?!" the leather-clad teenager shouted at the top of his lungs, slashing through the hordes of metallic soldiers. The soulless monsters just would not die…!! His short-sword was knocked out of his hand, the armored goons tightening the circle around him. He gulped, "Heh… so much for saving the day…"
A bolo flew towards him, and he ducked. It hit the pair behind him, anchoring them to the ground. A swipe, a lunge, and a kick, and the others were taken care of. The Master Swordsman whirled to face him, a cocky smirk painted on his lips.
"Head and hearts, kid. See, Head—" the gray-feathered man took a deliberate swipe at the tied drones struggling against the bolo chain, catching the shelled skull, "—and Hearts—" a stab of his Protector Blade into the glowing eye set in the chestplate severed the magical links between metallic joints, the machine rendered useless. "Understand now…?"
"I'll give you Head and Hearts, foul fowls…!!" a coarse drawl interrupted them as a hulking Saurian loomed over them, clubbed tail spelling their doom.
The blond put his fingers in his mouth and gave a shrill whistle, grabbed the seasoned Knight and yanked him out of harm's way. Before the bulky Saurian General could react, a burning log crashed into him, bowling him over along down the hilly incline…
Amber eyes balked at the sight, shifting slightly towards the gasping lad, "Ingenious… Whose idea was it…?"
"Does it really matter…?!" the fairer man spluttered, "We came to fight – not exchange battle tactic…!!"
The elder one understood his urgency. Pointing across the bloody fields raging still, "Good Luck, kid… From what I've seen, you're gonna need it…"
The young thief growled as he began moving towards the pandemonium, "Shaddap…!!"
"And kid…?"
"What?!"
His Majesty's Knight raised his sword to his beak, then a sweeping bow.
"Welcome Home… my Prince…"
.
The walls surrounding him begin to thin as the Western Armies fell.
The Dark Powers within him began to wane, the clash between Mages beginning to take its toll. He needed fresh blood – and he needed it NOW…!!
It was most regrettable his lizard brother would have to die for his cause.
"Magus, Magus, the Southern Division will hold no longe—AIYEE!!"
Blood drained faster than water from a leaking canister, gnarled fingers digging into the child-like head of the other. Deed done, he separated himself from the shriveled husk frozen in horror, letting it shatter at his feet.
"Mock me, you did, pathetic Puckworld peasant," the gaunt creature laughed hollowly, raising his cloaking shield once more, "We shall see who is the worthier Spellmaster…"
.
The Reigning youth slashed viciously at the nearest hulking doll, his white steed abandoned long ago, its foreleg broken as it trampled a rival soldier to death. Before he could climb over its body, another lifeless creature replaced its presence, double swords ready to tear him limb from limb. He snarled at the advancing drone, slicing its legs off before ramming a protected fist into its jeweled center. The lights dimmed from its eyes, a mangled heap of metal scraps at his feet.
He glanced about him, assessing his Kingdom's position. There were more men than mechanical beasts still standing, which yielded an upper hand. If only he could disable the Saurian Sorcerer controlling these metal monsters, then that would leave only a lone Overlord to be dealt—
"PREPARE TO DIE, BOY!!"
—he whirled to find Fate had decided to fulfill his wishes a little too soon.
High upon his ghastly creature, the Vermillion Tyrant leapt upon Puckworld's Keeper…
.
The trembling woman wailed, her aching body giving into the dreaded Mage Fevers at last, "He's gotten stronger…!! I-I canna stop him… Too late… Too la—" she paused in her ramblings, her gaze falling on a stray page in the lap of one of her assistants, "Wait… Eternal Oblivion…? Yes, yes, that's it…!!" She crawled to her feet, fighting her reluctant aides, "One last spell… Please… My last before entering my own eternal oblivion…"
The maids stared at each other, unwilling for her latter words to come true. However, they knew the price paid to serve in the Court – would they allow it…?
A bold woman stepped forward, bringing the parchment and her Mistress closer together. "One more is all, M'Lady…" with an encouraging smile, she added, "And make it count…!!"
.
Another volley of weighted reeds whizzed past her cherry-red braid as she ducked behind a boulder, one leg broken. Her main weapon had been rendered useless, and she had both lost her throwing daggers and exhausted her quiver these hours past. Unless a healer or arms-maiden found her soon, she would meet her demise this day.
She spied upon a fallen quiver belonging to a knighthood brother not too far from her, DuCaine bless his soul… If she could just jump towards it and notch her crossbow—
Her opponent paused to ready its own weapon, metallic claws clicking noisily against the heavy wood. She slid herself into the open, diving for the sought-after feathered shafts.
Her leap of faith was an arm's length too short – she panicked.
The mechanical puppet raised its arms.
She dug her good leg into the blood-soaked soil, begging traction. She knew she would not be spared, her Fate sealed. If I die now, I take this one with me…
The bowstrings snapped, the deadly missiles on its way.
A hoarse shriek.
Yet, there was no pain, no agony of defeat… but how—
A dark shadow fell into her arms, chipped beak in a snarl. He ripped the bloodstained arrow from his flesh, hollering curses till Kingdom come. In a demanding, clipped tone as he handed it to her, he barked, "Machine's reloading. Arrow to bow, NOW!!"
She fired.
.
A spell to take out the Hope of the nation, razing the Puckworld castle from within. All the Dark Mage required was a little more time… just a little more ti—
Something prickled at his senses, his concentration stolen.
He raised his crested head—
—a blinding white bolt streaked towards him—
The femme Magician had spotted him…!! But how – she was a mere child, of magical infanc—
It shattered his protective dome, lashed at his neck.
The ground opened up, Death's dark maw yawning to swallow his d..mned soul…
… into Eternal Oblivion…
.
There was a whirring gurgle, a strangled whine, as all the dolls around them broke apart with a clatter of rusted shards.
She didn't notice.
Wide emerald eyes stared down at the spreading crimson across his front. "Y-you're hurt…"
He winced, "Tell me something I don't kno—" words dissolved into an anguished howl.
"S-stop moving…!!" she shrilled, stilling him in her lap, "Goddess, so much blood—"
"A lung, my liver and my side…" the Royal Knight spat through a gate of gritted teeth. He choked out a small laugh, "Looks like I'm not going to live through my end of the bargain, Sweetheart…"
"Don't speak of such things…!!" the Princess Guard hissed, though it bordered tears, not anger. "You can't die—I won't let you—if you die, I'll—"
"Look at me, Sweetheart…"
"… n-no…!!"
"Please look at me…?"
"… don't g-go…"
"Pretty… little… lassie…" he teased.
He stroked her perfect cheek, a thumb under her perfect eye. "Love you…"
The quivering light in his singular eye faded, the raised hand touching her face fell away.
She called his name – once, twice, three times. Of all the times she thought him dead, he finally breathed his last on her lap.
"NOOO!!"
.
"Your Legion has fallen," the lither one remarked, wiping away the lifeforce trickling past his chin, "Surrender now and I promise you a swift and painless execution…"
The towering Overlord roared as he flew towards the battered Monarch, "NEVER!!"
The curved blades held in the Saurian's deadly talons shredded through His Majesty's cuirass, a gaping hole raked into his side. A quick lash of his heavy tail knocked the wind from his screaming lungs, blood and bile spat onto the wet soil beneath his hands. The King's vision sparked, strength sapped from his aching limbs…
"If I am to die, BOY – at least you'll die before ME…!!"
Blood splattered against angelical feathers.
The Saurian hissed in pain, cradling his arm missing its claw to his chest.
Silver-blue eyes flashed before him as a pair of snow-white wings parted, the image of an Archangel revealed.
"You…!!" the Tyrant King exclaimed, then a dark laugh, "Wings… Heh, if I had known you were such a treasure beforehand, I would not have dismissed you so easily…"
"That was your first mistake…" her voice echoed as her wings glowed, threads spreading through her feathers. She raised her Protector Sword, the cursed childling and the Princess becoming one, voices raised, "Striking against our Kingdom would be your LAST…!!"
She flew towards him, her sword drawn. The Saurian Warlord parried her singing blade, swiping at her spread appendages. Its edge drew blood, but not without landing a gnash of its own as it jerked itself back, catching his arm. Its counterpart swooped past his head. He ducked and brandished his claws—
A little away, the fallen Sovereign watched in horror as a voice whispered beside his ear, The most beautiful Angel…
The Archangel smirked at such a tempting invitation, lips curling into a saucy smile. Her blade whistled past the wrist…
… but one false move…
Her opponent's sword clattered to the ground, no hands left to grasp a weapon.
… the most dangerous living weapon…
She somersaulted herself into the air, twin dagger unsheathed from her boots. Diving towards the Saurian as he followed her movements, the thick column of his neck exposed.
Her arms swung outwards, a cross embedded into her adversary's leathery hide.
The Dragonling choked, clawless hands pressed against his torn flesh. Staggering backwards, the last his eyes did see – his murderer licking seductively at her daggers, his blood staining her tongue…
The ground shook with the fall of a giant…
The last surviving Saurian Overlord, was no more…
.
"A-ambro-sia…?" the appalled Emperor called forth his Queen. Indeed, his arch nemesis deserved death – but so merciless to rob an enemy of his defense, a dishonor to her blade…
And he had seen her smile.
The Demonling enjoyed butchering her prey…
The Demonling…!!
He fought to stand, protesting muscles struggling to support his weight. He braced himself against his sword, his voice like stone, "Ambrosia, to me…"
The Archangel pivoted herself to face him. A sneer, "Ambrosia…?"
A laugh, eyes slit, "Ah yes… your beloved Princess…
"Why should she return to you, the Lover's fool…? She has me – and that's all she'll ever need…"
Unfazed, he threw away his only weapon, his hands outstretched. A little louder, he repeated, "Ambrosia, to me…!"
The Archangel laughed, "You do know I can kill you most easily, blind weakling… I have taken down a Saurian Overlord – what is a mere Puckworld King…?"
The voice of her Personal Guard, "… I have much faith my Lady cannot hold enough emotion to cut you…"
"Believe her… Understand…"
"Ambrosia, to me…!!"
She took a menacing stance towards him, her jeweled dagger raised.
"I have not believed, but I can try…" he spoke the words of a promise, praying the woman within the trappings of the Archangel would hear, "I cannot pretend to understand, but I can learn…"
The daggers lowered, eyes flickered between Silver and Blue.
"For you, to brave the knives that bar us from each other is worth the blood shed, the sheets stained…"
Her disobedient leg took a hesitant step forward. The Archangel glared at it, "How dare you…!!"
"I accept you, beloved…"
Another step, knives falling from her hands. Her angelic double hissed at her, "Stop! Stop!! What are you doing…?!?!"
"I love you…"
She came to him, her pupils undecided, her frame trembling. He did not wince as the only appendages within the Sprite's command lashed out at him, thin lines cut into his arms, swelling up with crimson life. He stared down at her with a smile, "And let no one tell you otherwise…"
She flung her head back, a trilling shriek wrenched from her throat as her alter-ego left her, poisoned silver following the wraith expulsion.
Then she collapsed into his opened arms, falling to the ground as one…
"Is it over…?" his beloved's quivering voice returned, muffled into his chest.
He lifted his head to survey the dismal battlefield. The Saurian forces had fallen, its surviving members either exiled or dead. Far and away, his knights were riding towards him, the Great Gates eager to receive their victorious Ruler…
He held her tightly, tightly.
"Yes, it is over…" a light kiss to her dirty forehead, "Come, let's go home…"
...oOo...
Aoi Akiko rambles:
Epilogue coming out very, very soon...!! cowers from k2's whip Oops - have to go now before k2 kills me...
Grin plays his last, most important role... sniffsniff I'm going to miss the big guy...
And later, Nosedive comes to the rescue...!! Ah... at least one rescue...
But Duke has to die... wailsblinkblink um... don't kill mwe...?
Now for side notes:
[1] Mallory calling Duke 'Fairest Knight', vice versa him calling her 'Squire girl' came from an original script idea later written off... For those interested, please email me
[2] Dragaunus saying, "PREPARE TO DIE, BOY!!" - just tell me you can her his voice saying "bo-YY!!"
[3] k2 thinks the duel/dual personalities between Ambrosia and Archangel was a little OOC, even for an OC, but Kei liked it... Um... since I'm closer to Kei than k2, he wins this debate...
Of origins:
[1] London, 1999, I chanced upon a program called 'Antique Roadshow' where people from all walks of life bring in their antiques to be valued by a professional. One such was a jeweled key, whose significance was 'surrender to the receiving party', usually leading to the death of the former... I can't remember which european country, but one of them... frown Hmm... what was I doing in 1999...??
[2] An 'arms-maiden' (I gave Mallory a girl, for some odd reason) is usually a knight's page/squire/apprentice. In times of war, some follow their masters, carrying fresh weapons (swords, daggers, arrows, etc). However, humanity intervened before the idea became too wide-spread, due to the number of inexperienced young boys lost in the field. Later years, a knight had to carry everything he would ever need either on his back, or on his horse. Looting a knight became very profitable soon after...
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blink Review, kudasai...?