Vicious and sloppy. Her assessment at this morning's council stands. Amaya watches the battle start as they often do – the bloodthirsty and the battle-mad break rank first, and the rest follow.
This is not her army, this is not her people, Amaya has to remind herself. The men and women that were loyal to Katolis and were disciplined for its cause above all else no longer exist. Thousands upon thousands of Katolian lives have been thrown away. For nothing.
Her whole life has been spent in dedication to Katolis' armies and to its soldiers. Those Amaya has trained over the years have trickled down into every unit in the kingdom. So she has no doubt she will be haunted by some familiar faces today.
She will try to think of those friends, comrades, and students as shades. No longer of the living and certainly no longer hers. So really Amaya cannot murder them, because Viren has already gladly accomplished that feat.
Believing this little fantasy might be the only way she gets through today sane. Amaya swallows roughly, and wonders where she went wrong. How did their love for their country warp into this?
Or maybe that festering hate has always been there, ready and waiting for someone like Viren to give it direction.
In another life, maybe Amaya herself might have taken Viren's place in pointing the human armies and their vitriol towards Xadia. Spirits know she has been no stranger to hate. How much of her own hate had her soldiers inherited? How much has she been responsible for the decisions of those Katolians now opposing her?
There is no telling.
Many things might have been different had her nephews not taken those first steps to peace between humans and elves, had Janai not plummeted into her life.
"The forces of Lux Aurea will fight bravely, to the last man standing."
Thinking back to the council meeting, Amaya still doesn't like the insinuation that was there in that cave. The very idea of seeing Janai cut down sickens her to her core, but between that and seeing the elf submit to Viren, Amaya knows which one she prefers.
Some people were built never to bend, only to break. She and Janai have that in common.
But no matter the likelihood, no matter the cost, Amaya will not let it come to pass. So she lets that resolve settle in her bones, and watches as a single monster becomes five, and then five hundred. Soon all are charging with faces of unquenchable rage. The Sunfire infantry hold the line in front of her, their golden shields a full body length in size.
The energy rises in her blood and she feels it as her cheeks warm. She shoots a glance to Soren at her side. First battles are always the hardest. She hopes the kid's stomach is strong enough for this.
The elves are waiting for something. Amaya follows their line of sight to Janai, her face hawkish in her concentration. "Wait," Amaya reads on Janai's lips. "Wait!" Amaya turns back to where Viren's monsters are loping closer. And closer.
Amaya takes a steadying breath. Soon.
It's only when she can practically see the sweat on their faces that the elves drop their shields, and an unstoppable, chaotic wave of amber magic flings Viren's creatures aside as if they were made of the lightest cloth. The sight is magnificent but for a few moments. Wonder turns to dread as Amaya watches the creatures rise, the madness and magic stronger than before.
She pulls a face. Fine, this is all fine. We'll just have to resort to Plan B.
Plan B was very similar to Plan A, except Amaya just had to be a bit more energetic and productive about her kills. After all, there are now several hundred more enemies than expected.
This is what she gets for relying on fucking magic.
Viren's creatures push forward. She doesn't need to hear the impact. They smash against Janai's forces and the shock sends visible ripples through her army.
The line holds. Just. If they can – oh shit. Amaya sees the magic right before she feels it. In a single blow, the breath is stolen from her body, hurtling her and everyone within range backwards courtesy of the concussive blast of magic sent by Viren's brat.
She clenches her eyes shut as she feels the world spin around her. She doesn't know which way is up or down or sideways. But the impact is soft.
Soft?
Dazed, Amaya takes a few moments to come to terms with the fact she is still alive. But how? What it grass? A shrub? A supply pack? Confused, Amaya opens her eyes through the dust haze, ignoring her rioting gut.
She is on a rock outcrop, so by rights she should be broken and dead. She squints closer at the ground, and with dull horror seeping through her, Amaya realises she hasn't landed on a plant or pack, but a person. She rolls to the side.
Crimson eyes stare unseeingly out from a young face, his limbs spread at wrong angles, blood dripping from his nose. Judging but the shine of his armour, he hasn't been a soldier long. Amaya wonders if it was the blast that killed him, or her landing.
She closes her eyes and sighs in deep. Amaya needs to pull herself together. She can't afford to be sentimental, or it will get her killed. This isn't the first time she has stared down at someone's dead child and felt responsible, and it likely won't be the last.
From the haze there is movement, and another young elf with a seeping gash above her brow reaches her hand down to pull Amaya up. She takes it gratefully. All around them, elves struggle to push themselves up and return to help their brethren.
But also, many don't.
Within Amaya simmers a cold rage unlike any she has felt before. The energy and effort she once put into hating Xadia and Sarai's killers has a new direction, a new target.
Viren. It should have always been Viren.
Amaya has constantly counselled herself against using rage in battle, but not today. Amaya feeds on her anger. She lets it seep throughout every inch of her body, her sight, her touch, her smell.
Viren made these people, who once were her people, into mindless thralls of dark magic.
But this kind of magic never comes without a price. He may have made them infinitely stronger, yet in doing so he corrupted them, he stripped them of their free will and of their capacity to anticipate and counter and to think as individuals. They are a hive mind with one purpose, and no matter how strong they are they will not escape her sword.
She tightens the grip on her hilt. Now there is nothing left to do but fight.
She doesn't know how much time has passed, she realises as she yanks her sword from an enemy's skull with a wet crunch. Only that they are losing.
Janai and Soren are still alive, though injured. Most of the dragons that came to their aid are grounded, cocooned in iron chains and their flames rendered useless by whatever magic Viren is using. Ezran is still in the air, and she prays to any spirits that will listen that the scorpions' chains cannot reach him.
Her throat still feels raspy from where the Neolandian prince had her with one hand, and her knee has been off since the bastard threw her back into Janai. Amaya seems to be making a habit using elven cushions in this battle. Well, at least the second cushion made it out alive.
So far.
A shadow reaches the corner of her eye, and Amaya throws her head backwards, pushing up her shield just in time to catch an axe. In a quick, efficient motion, she spears her sword around and up under her opponent's ribs. She sees the fire go from the woman's eyes, and feels a grim pleasure as another of Viren's monsters is dealt with.
She turns to find the glint of a spear racing towards her. She doesn't even have the time to feel fear before it is snatched out of the air by a Sunfire Knight, one she recognises from the forest. Amaya lets out a shaky breath and nods her gratitude.
The Knight returns her nod with a smile, and races back into the fold.
Amaya pushes the spike of mortal panic down and allows herself another breath. Everywhere she looks is chaos, at every direction there are more Sunfire elves are being overwhelmed. With no one or nowhere to guard her back, she feels more vulnerable than she has in a long time.
Amaya was stupid to stray this far away from the main force. She needs to get in a more strategic position, and she needs to do it now. Or else the next spear might be her last.
Near the rockface she sees Janai and Soren standing with a scattered group of Sunfire soldiers. Right. That'll have to do then.
Amaya started jogging, too tired to run, fending off stray blows with her shield and dodging soldiers locked in struggle. She does stop twice, once to skewer a soldier trying to get up and another time to pierce an enemy through the soft spot at the back of his head, freezing him in the act of trying to kill one of Janai's soldiers.
There, never let anyone say Amaya of Katolis didn't pay back her debts.
The elf looks up at her as if Amaya were an avenging spirit come to rescue them. Who knows, maybe she is. Amaya motions her head to the side, and the elf scrambles up to follow. Together they pierce a trail through to Janai. Spotting a chance to live a few more moments, other surviving stragglers join them.
Amaya feels a rush of energy she sorely needs when Janai spots her and grins. "Trust you to still be alive in this cold-cursed fight!"
Amaya would laugh if her bruised throat would let her. She settles for a wink and a grin. She claps Soren on the shoulder, grimly pleased he made it this far.
"I don't think we can hold out much longer, General," he pants.
Amaya grimaces. They always knew this might be the outcome. She points to the rockface. They'll live longer if they can get their backs to it. Janai watches her and nods, gesturing to the soldiers.
As they move out, Amaya watches Soren sigh and feels pity. She never had to doubt she would survive her first proper fight, back in the day. Soren wouldn't have that luxury, and against his father's forces no less.
Her ragtag group of humans and elves create an outward facing circle, slashing forward at their attackers. Amaya knows her defence is getting sloppy when a sword catches her on her bicep, missing her armour and slicing a welling red line through her shirt.
One of the elves goes down, and Amaya has no time to spare them a thought as she steps over them, tightening the defensive circle. More of Viren's soldiers approach, almost making a queue around them.
Well, the numbers are simply just not with her. Amaya spares a look to the sky and the pinprick that is Ezran, and to the mountain where Callum is.
Please make it out alive, I'll say hi to your mother for you.
To her right, Janai tugs her sleeve insistently. Amaya turns back reluctantly from her goodbyes to see Janai tapping her shield.
"Arrows!"
Amaya looks up just in time to see the black cloud streaking through the sky, and along with the rest of her group, crouches down and wrenches her up her shield. Not a second later, her arm starts vibrating from the sheer force of dozens upon dozens of arrows.
What in the fucking Orphan Queen is it now?
When the rain ceases, Amaya emerges to find most of Viren's forces dead or dying, and Katolian and Dureni standards raised proud and high on the hills beyond. Amaya no longer cares about her throat. She starts laughing in shallow wheezes, barely able to contain her mirth. Spirits, how is she not dead already? Sarai must not want her company just yet.
An occasional guffaw slips out as they have to duck back under the shields when the next volleys come. Even still as the arrows stop and the human armies crash into Viren's forces, Amaya is giddy, throwing herself back into fading battle with newfound lust.
After a time, Janai comes to her side as Amaya dispatches the last of Viren's soldiers not surrendered or in chains. It was a very elegant kill for someone who has been fighting for hours, if Amaya did say so herself.
"You're crazy, human" Janai informs her, shaking her head. "Do you ever stop?"
"Maybe you're just lazy. And I don't care," Amaya says primly. "I'm too happy to be alive."
"One day I am going to learn sign language, and not tell you when I understand all the rude things I know you're saying to me. Then I'm going to put you back in your oven."
"Not fucking likely."
They smirk at each other. A single braid has escaped Janai's hair bind and frames her face. Even as a sweaty and bloody mess, Janai is beautiful as she is deadly and magnificent.
"Come on," Janai nudges her. "Let's go find our people."
Against all odds, they survived this day.
A/N: Hey, long time no see. Hope you're all keeping safe! I went a bit heavy handed on the violence in this chapter, purely because I get a bit carried away with writing battle scenes. If its too much let me know. Enjoy!