Crimson Twilight: Dusk
Chapter 11: Aftermath
'Terror.'
The lone thought entered her mind with such ease that it was frightening. In front of her was a band of swordsmen; young men who looked as if they were only in the beginnings of their training. Their faces were twisted into half-screams and whimpers; hesitations that turned their sword arms into useless jelly and their legs into stumbling vegetables. Their movements told her that they knew how far beyond their league they were. It didn't matter to her. They deserved to die for even thinking of ambushing her.
'Despair.'
She grinned; more baring her teeth than showing any mirth, when some of the swordsmen dropped their weapons. They knew how useless their swords were in this situation. A sword could not match a lance when it came to sheer reach. That, combined with their opponent's mastery of her weapon, as well as the destructive power of a lance used in a charge, made it certain that they were all going to die. The fight was over before it could begin.
'Slaughter.'
Her grin widened as her lance punctured the back of one swordsman. It went through the young man's heart and burst through his ribcage, killing him instantly and splattering thick gouts of his lifeblood all over his companions' faces. The other swordsmen ran. They were no match for a mounted knight; to stay was to be killed. A javelin flew forward. Its flight was echoed by the dying scream of a fleeing swordsman as the force of the throw split his head asunder.
'Pain.'
Only one swordsman remained alive after her brutal attack and he knew that he wouldn't stay that way for long. The lance seemed almost alive in her hand as it impaled the swordsman's stomach. She raised her lance; lifting the swordsman along with it. The swordsman screamed as his body slid down the lance. To his horror, she laughed, a harsh and pitiless laugh, at his pain.
'Realization.'
The swordsman slid to the ground, dead. She looked around again; suddenly sick at the sight of blood everywhere. The metallic smell wafted towards her, surrounded her, slid past the visor of her helmet and sent her reeling. What had she been doing? A quick look around her surroundings told her everything. She had massacred a group of swordsmen. Nausea crept up her throat. How could she be responsible for this…this atrocity?
'Consequences.'
She turned around; only to find a squad of hunters behind her. The expression of horror could be seen on their faces as they stared at her bloodied figure.
'Death.'
The arrows flew, striking her on the chest. The oridecon-tipped shafts punched through the elunium plates with ease; finding her flesh beneath. The pain was sudden and overwhelming. It ran like lightning from her chest to her entire body. She didn't even feel the pain of hitting the ground. She had not bothered to defend herself. This would be her penance.
'Oblivion.'
The sight faded into nothing; soul-numbing darkness that somehow felt welcome. This would be her end.
Eliarainne's eyes fluttered open. Her hair, damp and cold with sweat, clung to her face. She closed her eyes and consciously slowed her breathing; allowing the nightmare to recede like a bad night's drinking. She looked around her; instinctively trying to get her bearings. The memory of the previous battle trickled back to mind. She felt around her shoulder, wincing when she realized that it was still a little sore.
"Good to see you're awake." Silmeia spoke. She stood beside Eliarainne's bed and smiled in relief. Eliarainne was the most severely wounded among the injured. It took a lot from her to close the terrible wound that Baphomet inflicted on her friend.
Makaelthos was seated next to Silmeia; a look of concern evident on his face. The frightened, confused state in which his partner woke into did not sit in well with him. "How are you feeling?" he asked.
Eliarainne looked at her hand; relieved to find no blood on it. Silmeia must have healed her as soon as the radiant regained so much as a small fraction of energy. Baphomet's fangs had bitten deeply into her flesh. The bones beneath actually cracked at the force. While Silmeia's healing was strong enough to stop the bleeding, close the wound and mend the fractures; the rest of her recovery had to come from rest. "It's still a bit sore but I'll be fine." she answered. "How long was I out?" she asked in return.
Makaelthos relaxed a bit and settled himself on his chair. Eliarainne noticed the lines of fatigue on his face. It looked as if he hadn't slept since the battle. She remembered the grand cross he had unleashed. The resulting blast of holy energy affected the human body as well. Some lightbearers had been known to die in their own grand crosses. That, combined with exposure to Silmeia's Magnus Exorcismus must have been extremely painful for him. "All night and all morning." he replied. "Do you think you can travel by a warp spell? We should be reporting to Prontera already."
Eliarainne rose from her bed shakily. The thought of delaying the mission because she was too weak was too embarrassing to consider. She had to set an example for her men. "I'll manage. How are the others?" she asked.
Silmeia's expression darkened when she answered the question. Already Eliarainne feared the worst. "I've lost two priests in the fight." Silmeia replied. "Trenzein has reported two casualties from the wizards as well. Your division has lost five knights. The others are badly wounded but recuperating."
Eliarainne sat back down. The loss of five veteran cavaliers was going to take its toll on her division. They would have to be replaced by less-experienced knights and that didn't bode well with this war among the immortals.
Makaelthos rose from his seat and turned to leave. Even though he was no Knight Commander, his tone brooked no disobedience. "We'll leave later this afternoon." he said. "Get some rest, Eliarainne. You still look pale from blood loss. I don't want to risk you aggravating your injuries."
Eliarainne forced herself to lie down as Makaelthos closed the door behind him. It was a blow to her pride that he did not consider her strong enough to travel by a warp portal. She bit back an impulse to argue with him for treating her like some delicate flower. The expression on his face told her that he wasn't going to budge. "Thanks for the concern." she muttered.
Silmeia smiled at her friend's sarcastic remark. "It's probably better for Makaelthos as well, Rainne." she said; trying to mollify her. "He hasn't slept a wink since he carried you to this makeshift hospital. The same could be said for Khaesilya. They could both use a nap before heading back to Prontera."
Eliarainne's smiled wryly. That was Makaelthos alright. Of all people, he spared himself least. Khaesilya had her worried though. She remembered catching a glimpse of the sohee just before she charged Eddga. "I saw her get stabbed by one of Moonlight's sohees. How is she?" she asked.
A hint of concern cast a shadow on the priestess's smile. "She'll be alright." she replied. "She's more worried about Makaelthos than herself, even though her injuries are much worse than his."
Eliarainne tried to relax. She didn't bother trying to sleep though. The nightmare was still fresh in her mind. Why would she dream that anyway? Silmeia turned to leave as well. "I'll have to attend to the others, Rainne." she said. "I'll come back when it's time to leave."
Silmeia closed the door behind her and sighed. She did not mention to her friend that, for a moment, as Eliarainne lay close to death, she had frozen of a second; paralyzed by a sudden mixture of rage and grief at the thought losing a friend to a demon. Perhaps she had only imagined it. But, as she looked back to that time, it was a frightening moment. It wasn't the time to burden anyone with an event that may or may not have happened. She knew hat she had to remain strong for everyone. Despair was spreading even among the Second Priest Division's members and it seemed that the sight of their head priestess standing strong alone gave them courage. Baphomet's unholy alliance with the Dark lord had clearly shaken them. Silmeia made her way to Khaesilya's temporary room. The owner of the building had allowed Prontera's troops to use the place as a makeshift hospital. Along the way, she thought back to that particular negotiation. Makaelthos had to convince the merchant to let them stay. Not that he had bothered to say anything. He presented a terrifying sight back then. With Eliarainne's bloodied, limp body in his arms, a smoking saber in one hand and a number of battle-weary soldiers behind him; all he had to do was to glare at the merchant for even trying to consider refusing. She wondered what would have happened if Makaelthos had been refused.
"Still working?" someone from behind her suddenly asked. "Why don't you take a break yourself, Sil?"
She shook her head and smiled at the wizard in front of her. Trenzein had suffered some wounds himself. Even a brainless skeleton could tell that his spells devastated the enemy the most and it wasn't surprising that many of the monsters aimed for him. "You know I can't rest until I make sure everyone is alright, Trenzein." she answered him.
Trenzein stared at the priestess for a while. Silmeia was the very picture of fatigue. He surmised that every bit of energy she recovered immediately went back out as another healing spell. Her normally dark brown eyes were dull with fatigue and her long, vibrant, black hair fell limp across her shoulders. Her arms sagged to her sides and her pace was slow and labored. He tensed when she looked like she was about to collapse. When she righted herself, he sighed and walked next to her. "I'll accompany you for a while before you completely collapse." he said. "I can handle some of the minor wounds anyway."
Silmeia nodded her appreciation and entered the sohee's room. She remembered how she helped carry the badly injured sohee to this room. Through her own pain, Khaesilya was inquiring about Makaelthos's injuries. Even now as she entered the room, she was greeted by the sohee's concerned stare. Khaesilya's waist-long, black hair spilled around the white sheets of her bed. Red eyes; liquid with concern unlike the feral glare of other sohees, watched Silmeia worriedly. "How is Master Makaelthos?" she asked.
Silmeia waved a hand to dismiss the sohee's worries. Sometimes, she believed that Khaesilya was too devoted to Makaelthos at the expense of her own safety. The stab wound proved that she was no kin to other sohees. In fact, Silmeia could only imagine how much Khaesilya's race hated her for serving humans. "Makaelthos is fine, Khaesilya." she answered. "He's probably asleep, as you should be. How are you feeling?
Khaesilya was silent for a while. She was relieved that her master was finally asleep. She had been worried since she heard that he refused to rest until he was certain that his partner was well. "The pain is almost gone." she replied. "I believe I can travel already."
Trenzein looked at Silmeia and smiled triumphantly. "There! Your patients are fine, Silmeia!" he said. "Get some rest already!"
Silmeia smiled wearily and headed for her room. She was glad that Khaesilya and the rest of the troops were fine. She could hardly stand after the last Magnus Exorcismus she had cast on Drake. It was a strain to have to heal the injured when she had barely enough energy to keep awake. "If you must insist." she conceded. "I'm off for a few hours of sleep."
Trenzein nodded in return. He had guessed that a few hours rest was all they were going to have as soon as they returned to Prontera. Not that he minded it. though. Since he wasn't really part of the Second Wizard Division, he had no report to make like Makaelthos, Eliarainne and Silmeia. As soon as they got back, all he was expecting to do was to lounge about in his home.
The return to Prontera proceeded as Makaelthos planned. As soon as the priests had rested, they opened the warp portals for the capital. Everyone was breathing the city air in the space of a few moments. Eliarainne walked with Makaelthos as they headed for the Grand Knight Commander's office. They had to make a report on the events that occurred. Trenzein had quickly departed for his own home to relax. Silmeia found herself looking for Agranias. She still had plenty of questions for him.
"Second Head Priestess Cafilence!" someone from behind her called.
Silmeia closed her eyes in frustration. She had a feeling that she knew what came after such a greeting. Sure enough, it was a swordsman from the Fourth Knight Division with a message.
"Skirmisher Gardzen has requested that you witness his duel in the arena, ma'am."
Silmeia glanced at the direction of Prontera's arena. It was a written law that any duel between citizens must be fought there. Prontera had ways to settle quarrels among its citizenry and one of them was to let them fight it out in the arena. It made sure that they didn't destroy city property; something that was likely to happen should a pair of wizards start blasting spells at each other. Death in the arena was possible although acolytes and priests were always around to prevent it. While these duels were seldom lethal, the results often varied from a bruised pride to serious injury. Gardzen loved to duel in the arena. He loved showing off his prowess in front of spectators, especially if one of them happened to be a certain radiant. Not that she was fond of watching arena duels. "Who's he picking on this time?" was all she could say about the matter. Silmeia sighed. Eliarainne usually put a damper on most of the big knight's bullying. Rainne was in no condition to do that however. Knowing that her non-attendance would simply provoke Gardzen to further mistreat his victim, she decided to go.
The messenger's voice possessed an edge of curiosity as he answered her question. "He duels with Sir Agranias, ma'am. I'm off to watch it myself. Sir Gardzen claims that Sir Agranias has insulted you and he is defending your honor. Sir Agranias denies it but still accepted the challenge."
Silmeia's eyes narrowed. Skirmisher Gardzen had taken advantage of her absence to take his revenge on Agranias! What was worse was that he hid everything under the excuse of defending her! She quickened her pace. Perhaps she could put a stop to everything. Gardzen may be pompous and a bully but he did possess some skill in fighting.
Silmeia reached the arena in time to see Gardzen's claymore swing directly towards Agranias's armored chest.
World notes
The Pronteran Arena -the arena is a large, circular building found by the western side of Prontera. It serves both as a center for various games and a place for duels to take place. Its seats can accommodate nearly half of the city's population. Fighting in public outside the arena is highly frowned upon by pronteran society and has stiff penalties ranging from fines to temporary exiles. Prontera, however, acknowledges that some conflicts can only be settled with combat and the arena, built as early as 120 PT, provides the proper time and place.
Dueling - Dueling has been a long accepted practice in Prontera, having existed ever since the city's founding. While it is often used to settle simple disputes, it is no substitute for legal matters. All duels must take place in the Pronteran Arena. Duels in the city outside the arena are considered brawls and are immediately subdued by the pronteran patrols. A duel must be formally issued and accepted before it can occur in the arena. Once acceptance takes place, a specific time is set by an arena official. Anyone challenged has the right to refuse and a challenger can withdraw a challenge any time before the actual duel. Real weapons are used but fighting to the death is not allowed. Nevertheless, deaths sometimes occur despite the staff of priests and acolytes at hand to prevent such incidents. Surrender must be accepted as soon as it is offered. Striking a downed opponent or intentionally trying to kill him/her is faced with severe prosecution. Spectators are allowed and often encouraged by the participants. Only people of age eighteen and above are allowed to duel.