Merv
Zane grabbed Duskweaver and stepped away from Cole's shivering body. He sent the blade a mental command to grow into a broad falchion. This strong blade with only one sharp edge would be good for cleaving down the enemy quickly and easily, without the artful grace of its narrower double-edged cousins.
Blessedly, the sluggish and nearly powerless blade obeyed the command. That was good. It did not matter how strong his blade was; he wasn't about to charge into battle with a knife.
"Jay!" Zane called out as the stone army drew closer. There was something unnerving about the silence of their advancement.
"Yeah?" Turning, he saw that Jay wielded a longsword.
"Protect Kai and Nya. I've got Cole."
"What about Varasach?" Lloyd asked nervously. "And my uncle?"
"Just stay back," Zane answered. "And if things get out of hand...run."
"But Zane-"
"You're a leader, Lloyd," Zane said. "Lead. Protect them."
With those words hanging in the air, he raised his sword and attacked the first yellow-eyed man, cleaving his head from his shoulders. He did the same to the enemy on his left.
The next man stopped a few paces off, surprised. He held up his sword nervously.
From his spot on the sidelines, guarded by four stone warriors and Besai, Overlord shouted something in his language. After that, his men attacked with greater force, falling to the White and Blue Knight's swords so easily that Zane grew concerned. Somehow, he had expected his first confrontation with the Overlord to be more...dangerous.
"Zane! Behind you!"
Zane turned to the sound of Kai's voice. A warrior stood over Cole, sword poised to strike a blow to his neck.
The Northern nobleman reacted instantly. He lunged for the stone man, tackling him to the ground. "No you don't," he grunted as he straddled the man and slitted his throat with the huge, heavy blade. Blood sprayed everywhere.
Zane stood, not bothering to wipe the gore from his hands, and did a quick survey of the field. He could not find Lloyd, Wu, or Varasach. But Kai and Nya were both behind Jay, who was doing an admirable job of dancing with Stormstrider. Together the man and blade spun, cleaving through men with such grace that Zane would have thought they had been practicing together for many years instead of just over twelve hours. Both the weapon and its wielder were splattered with blood. All the blood of the Overlord's men, I hope...
Caught off guard, Zane did not notice two katana bearers until the were almost stepping on Cole's body. I wish I had time to hide him, Zane thought as he kicked one to the ground, then shoved his sword through the other's heart. This was not a safe place for Cole.
He found himself waiting for a word from Duskweaver on the situation. It took a few seconds- and pass through another man's stomach- for Zane to remember that his blade was in an enervated state, unable to speak.
It was lonely, fighting without Duskweaver. Who would have thought that I would grow attached to him...her...so quickly? Did Duskweaver have a gender? Zane had never asked.
"Stop fighting!" Overlord shouted. "White Knight! Blue Knight! Stop!"
Zane was reluctant. But when he saw that the stone men were retreating, he relaxed his sword arm, breathless and sweating, eyes searching for Overlord.
"Good," Overlord said.
Zane jumped. The voice came from behind him. Cole! whirled, cursing his own carelessness as he saw the short but formidable form of the Overlord. He held a magnificent double-edged blade in one hand, point pressed against Cole's throat.
"Tsk tsk tsk," Overlord shook his head. "What a disappointment. Not protecting your weakest- yet most important- link."
Fifteen Years Prior
Young John Keith sat against the cold stone, hands and feet shackled to large weights on the floor.
Thankfully, there was no dripping water in this tower. That would've been annoying.
"Aww, this isn't so bad, Merv," he said with a weak smile. "I mean...it could be a lot worse."
Red light shone through the hole in the wall, flickering yellow and blue occasionally. Screams reached his ears as readily as the smoke did his nose, making it extremely hard to stay positive.
"Sure," said the girl beside him, regal blue clothing tattered and almost brown from getting dragged through the gardens by those evil men. Her soft blue eyes were fixed on her feet. Firelight glinted off her chains. "Whatever you say."
John sighed and turned his gaze back to the window. "I wonder what's going on down there, Merv," he mused. "I'll bet my dad has Colvyr- or, I guess, the Overlord- defeated by now."
"Sure."
"And y'know what else?" John continued. "I'll bet he's out there helping put out those fires. They'll all be fine. The baker down on the corner, he'll be able to rebuild his shop and go back to baking for us. Those cakes are real good, so its a shame that they've all been burned..."
"Yeah."
A loud scream cut through the smoky air, making the young nobleman and his companion shiver with terror. It was cut short a few seconds later.
"Mother," John said quietly. "That...was my mother's scream."
"N-no. I'm sure is wasn't." Merv shuddered, drawing her thin legs close to her chin.
John wiped his eyes. He couldn't cry. He just couldn't. Not him, the important nobleman who was going to take his father's place as leader of this fresh, beautiful island in just a few short years.
No crying. He had to smile. Smiling was good, laughing kept one out of trouble. Crying made one depressed. It was better to hold it in, keep strong on the outside, no matter how many times his guts twisted beneath his skin. "We'll be fine... Right, Merv?"
"Of...course." Merv looked up at her friend and nodded weakly.
John wondered if his smile looked as fake as hers. "Yeah. Any minute now, my dad's gonna come up those steps and get us free. This attack will be over, and everything will be fine."
Just...no crying. Smile, no matter what. And keep Merv safe, like Father had told him.
No...he would not cry.