Chapter III, Part I – The Evocations
"Run!" The man's voice was not easy to be heard amongst the intense scene that was unfolding before the young girl. Vikings ran forth with a bloodthirsty need, weapons gripped tightly in one hand and torches in the other. The man, an old farmer that had no weapons but a pitchfork, ran into battle, knowing that he would die. He did so because of his sweet Avice—his daughter that was not even nine years old. He needed to provide a distraction so that his wife and child could get away from the barbaric Vikings and to safety.
Many emotions filled the man. His furrowed eyebrows expressed concern, yet he was happy at the same time. He knew that he could easily distract the Vikings for long enough for his family to escape. Then again, he would never be able to make sure, causing sadness to almost overwhelm him, but not enough to make him stop, even though he wanted to.
Armed with nothing but a pitchfork, he swung the tool, causing it to collide with a Viking that had been occupied with a basket of wheat. Blood spurted from the open wound as the villager allowed the pitchfork to fall to the ground with the attacker. The man spun on his heel to look at the rest of the city. Fire and horrible screams filled the area. He was fighting a losing battle, but he had to keep the hope. Not for himself, but for those that depended on him.
Suddenly, the man heard a loud snort. He looked to his right, his eyes narrowing on a Raider. The Raider, armed with her mighty Dane Axe, stood there, glaring at the man. She dug her feet into the wet dirt and got closer to the ground, ready to pounce onto her enemy. The man, armed with nothing but his will to fight, breathed out and positioned himself to receive the oncoming attack.
The man knew he'd lose this fight, but he had to take it. The Raider pounced from the ground, knocking the man with the end of the pole. He stumbled back as the Viking grabbed the axe with both hands, swinging it around with a great velocity. Everything became disoriented as he tried to regain control of his now hurting head.
"ÉG RÍF ÞIG Í BITA!" She shouted at the sharpened steel connected with the unarmored man, lodging itself into his stomach. Quickly removing the axe from the wounded man, she walked over to him. She grabbed the man's head and swiftly pulled up, quickly putting an end to the farmer's life. She grinned to herself as she retrieved her axe and ran off to find another victim.
As this happened, a lone girl of about eight or nine years old cried, her tears streaming down her face. This girl, an Avice Esclair, was the daughter of the man, and even though she was young, she realized that this would be the last time she would be with him alive. She stood there, her face a mixture between shock and sadness. Screaming, the little girl ran over to her father's limp body.
Avice fell to her father's side, clutching it strongly. He had been there for her for her entire life, and now, he was gone, fallen in the blink of an eye. She laid there in the midst of the Viking raid, sobbing and balling her eyes out. Sniffling and her eyes still filled with tears, she looked up, wiping those bright blue eyes that seemed a little dimmer than usual.
Avice looked around at the scene as the violence was gradually dissipating. The Vikings that were there paid no attention to the little girl, as they could not care less about her. They began packing their spoils of the raid: gold, food, men, and women. She could hear their ships set course back to Valkenheim. Those damned Vikings would return back to their homeland in fame and glory, not even thinking of the lives they had ruined.
The little girl returned her attention back to her father's corpse, burying her head into his cold chest. With tears beginning to dry out, Avice suddenly felt a wave of fatigue wash over her. She closed her eyes one last time, and as her body went limp, everything went black.
Avice's heart was beating incredibly swiftly as she pulled herself up in her bed. She was breathing heavily as she looked around the room, tears forming in her blue eyes. She threw her head back into the uncomfortable rabbit hide bed, groaning as she wiped away the wetness from her eyes. Sighing, her mind wandered to those painful memories. She shivered as she remembered her father's cold, bloodied corpse.
Avice pushed her eyes shut, quenching the tears that stayed in the corner of them. The image of his corpse was burned into her memory. One might assume that this would break a child greatly, but this wasn't the case for Avice. She was always courageous and determined, for she was raised that way. She knew that her father would never want her to be unable to move on if he were to die, for if she couldn't live without him, did he truly raise her to be competent?
Avice was hardly able to move on less than a few days after that horrid event. Now alone in the unforgiving world, she had to fend for herself, though there was not much that a young girl could do. At an age younger than nine years, she was helpless and hopeless.
As Avice harkened back to those horrifying memories, she sighed. Her eyes hadn't even begun to dry, as they were still occupied by salty wetness that filled them. She laid there in bed, half-hoping that weariness would drift her back to sleep where she could dream something less painful than what she had previously dreamed.
Looking around the darkened area, Avice took note of her surroundings. It was a small, compact room, even though it was her personal chamber. It was decorated with a few things: a small bed made out of rabbit hide, a desk that was about two or three feet long, a shelf that held some of her personal items, and a roof that was just a foot taller than Avice herself. Perhaps the best thing about the room was the medium-sized window that overlooked the courtyard.
Avice pulled herself over the side of the bed. Holding her head in her hands, she wiped the last of the tears from her eyes and gave out one last sigh. Pushing herself from the bed, she walked over to the window, her eyes gazing into the vacant courtyard. No light entered the area, save for a few torches that lined the thick stone walls of The Eclipse. The dim light exuded from these small flames was not nearly enough to light the inner area of the open field.
The Warden move her attention from the courtyard to the night sky. It wasn't a starry night, so the sky felt empty, like an endless void. Her eyes moved once again to beyond the walls. The Eclipse was sat on the border of a forest and a medium sized meadow. A river raced to Lake Eitrivatnen out of the corner of her eye. The Eclipse was just a few miles south of the lake, so it was in prime position to spot any vessels entering the body of water through the river.
Avice looked longingly at the river. It flowed freely and unrestrained. It was sort of a symbol of freedom. A kind of freedom that Avice had always wanted but never received. What the hell am I doing? She thought. Envying a fucking river? She shook her head. She pushed herself from the windowsill. Turning her back to the glass, her eyes landed on the small wooden desk.
An unlit candle sat atop it next to a small pot of ink and a goose feather that begun to wear down from endless use. A mess of scattered papers littered the desktop. The topmost paper was filled with words and cacography. All of these texts were scrawled over with ink, making the words beneath it almost illegible. Avice approached the paper with hesitance. Taking the paper, it felt old and it felt as if it had almost turned to dust, for it had been almost a year since she penned these words on this paper.
Avice lit the candle and peered down at the piece of paper. It was a letter. A letter to those the Warden had caused suffering. The deep black ink covered almost the entire page, and Avice couldn't dare to hope to be able to read the words she had crossed out. It was a dangerous thing, if she could remember correctly. She had written it just two weeks into her being here at The Eclipse.
It was a letter asking for forgiveness, for hope, and for inner peace. However, she knew that all those things were not destined to be with her, so she gave up on it. Furthermore, it would have been enough evidence as to convict her of treason against the Blackstone Legion. She set the paper back down and sighed. These things were still tearing her up inside. The pain of all those she had killed or caused misery to had stayed with her throughout her time as a Blackstone legionnaire.
Avice's eyes darted from the piece of paper as she heard a soft knock at the door.
"Hello?" Avice asked softly, not wanting to wake those who were sleeping.
"Lady Esclair, is everything all right in there?" A familiarly feminine voice emanated from beyond the thick wooden door. It was Eleanor, commander Forge's servant. She maintained The Eclipse's premises, making sure everything was clean and orderly.
"Yes." The Warden responded, her heart beating less rapidly now that she knew who it was. "Everything is good in here."
"Okay." Eleanor said. "Just call if you should need anything whatsoever."
"I will be sure to." Avice answered, half-hoping that the older woman would let her be. As she heard footsteps fade down the hallway, her eyes gaze returned back to the letter. She grabbed it and held it over the candle's flame, watching as the paper turned to ash. She didn't hesitate when doing this because she knew that she needed to get rid of any evidence that could be used against her.
Avice groaned and rubbed her temples before moving her bright blue eyes to the rabbit hide bed. Perhaps it is time to go back to sleep and prepare for the next day. She thought as she blew out the candle on her desk after the last of the paper's ashes fell onto the wooden surface. The woman walked over to the bed and laid down. She closed her eyes and let weariness carry her back to sleep.
It was a seemingly perfect day. The sun was shining brightly onto the landscape. The trees were a beautiful shade of green, and the flowers had begun to blossom, providing the splash of color needed to make the scene seem flawless. The water was serene and undisturbed and clear as could be. A tree provided shade for those to retreat from the sun's warming heat. It truly was a beautiful view.
Avice, clad in her Warden's armor, except for the helmet, stepped into the scenery. Her metal plates reflected the sunlight onto the keep's outer walls. The black and orange cloth that hung from certain parts of the armor where the chainmail came into contact with the steel plates blew with the slight breeze. She closed her eyes and basked in the warmth that the sun provided.
The Warden looked around the courtyard. Footmen marched around the outer perimeter, and two figures stood talking in the center of the area in the large tree's cooling shade. One of them, a Lawbringer, was recognizably a man named Devo Forge—master and overseer of The Eclipse. Clothed in his thick and sturdy armor, the man stood towering above the other figure. His helmet was pointed with eight long slits from top to bottom down the front. A chain connected the top of his chest armor to his breast, and a large lock hung from that point, depicting two crossed battle axes.
The other man was a Warden clad in black iron. His helmet was simple with two slits where the eyes were, contrasting itself with Avice's "T-shaped" slit design. A skull was engraved onto the man's helmet. An orange triangle was painted along the bottom of the helmet, going up to just above the skull's nose. The figure wore the signature black and orange colors of the Blackstone Legion, making the woman believe—and rightly so—that he was a Blackstone.
Avice approached the pair, her helmet in one hand and the other resting on her longsword. The grass crunched beneath her leather boots, alerting the pair of Blackstones to her presence. Forge turned to look at the woman, his face unreadable beneath his heavy helmet.
"Ah, Avice." He said, greeting the Warden. "This is Ademar, Knight of the Blackstone Legion and second to Holden Cross."
"It's good to finally meet you." Ademar said, reaching his arm out. "I've heard much about you."
"From whom?" Avice inquired as she shook the man's armored hand. "Surely no one of good word."
"Haha." Ademar responded after chuckling at the young woman's joke. "From Apollyon herself. She told me much about your background along with your impressive skills as a Warden."
"Oh, that's a surprise." She replied, a little shocked that the great warlord thought so highly of her. "What is one of your stature doing here at The Eclipse?"
"I've come to talk." He said, his voice losing the lightheartedness it had before.
"Don't let me interrupt then." Avice said, flashing a quick smile before stepping away from Forge and Ademar.
"Not with Forge…" Ademar pronounced. His eyes seemed to lock with Avice's even though his were behind a helmet. "I've come to speak with you."
"Oh, about what?" She asked, taking a step or two forward as to compensate for the few steps she took back.
"Not here, not now." Ademar whispered, only loud enough for the three of them to hear. "We must ride back to the Blackstone Fortress. Apollyon wants to speak with you in private."
"Well, the day is still young." Avice said in an equally low voice. "Shall we ride?"
"We shall." Ademar responded, turning away from the Warden. As he did this, Forge turned to Avice.
"Better get going then." The older man said. "You've got a long day ahead of you."
"I suppose." Avice responded, her eyes not moving from Ademar as he retrieved a black horse from the peasant that had been holding onto the reigns. She was slightly suspicious of Ademar, but if what he said was true, she couldn't deny going with him. Otherwise, things would not end well for her.
The pair of them walked down to the stables where the stablemaster had been preparing Avice's horse. The Warden climbed atop her brown horse as Forge held the saddle down, so it wouldn't slide around on the horse's back. She looked down at him from the animal, and he gazed back at her.
"I wish you luck, Avice." Forge told her as he took a step back from the horse. She nodded and put her helmet on, making sure to lock it in place.
"Thank you." She said, kicking the horse which made it rear. The horse then took off, galloping with a confident pace towards The Eclipse's gated exit where Ademar was already waiting.
"Ready?" He asked, his voice seeming a little bit more serious than it had moments before.
"As I'll ever be." The woman responded, waiting for her fellow Warden to give the order. He simply nodded and kick his horse, causing it to dart off. Avice did the same moments after, catching up to Ademar in seconds.
The Eclipse soon faded in the background. To Avice, this signified the closing of one chapter of her life and the beginning of another. Was she ready for this? Perhaps, but only time could tell.
A thick and unbroken darkness filled the heavens. Stars were seemingly absent this night, and clouds were not to be seen even on the horizon. The night sky was totally clear, and it could be seen without any kind of obstruction from where the young Warden sat. The moon was bright and circular, signifying that it had become a beautiful full moon.
A bright orange flame rose high into the sky from the small campfire that Avice and Ademar had created, throwing grey smoke even higher. The journey from The Eclipse to the Blackstone Fortress was about a two days' journey, so the pair had decided to set up camp for the night and rest here in the plains between the two locations.
Two small tents were setup directly opposite each other. Between these two sleeping quarters, a small campfire sat. Avice was seated on the muddy ground next to this fire, her eyes gazing into the beautiful flames. That was when Ademar stepped out, his helmet still fixated on his head. She could feel his eyes fall upon her.
"I suggest you get some sleep in preparation for our meeting with Apollyon on the morrow." He suggested, still standing a few feet away from his ally.
"I will." Avice responded, not moving her eyes from the fire. Ademar shrugged before turning around and stepping back into his tent. The soft glow of the candle from within that tent went out shortly after he went in. Her eyes still glued on the flames, Avice's mind wandered back to that letter and her early life.
The letter was definitely a regret of hers. Perhaps it was a mistake to burn that letter. Then again, it could have been used by the Blackstone Legion to accuse her of conspiracy or desertion. Still, she could not help but feel a sense of remorse for burning the small piece of paper that contained her confessions. Maybe she should have kept it and actually have sent it to those she believed deserved it most. Nonetheless, it was too late to get it back. She'd just have to let it go.
Avice removed her gaze from the fire, letting it fall onto her Warden helmet that rested beside her in the mud. When I took that oath, I believed it to be the greatest chapter of my life. She thought as she stared at the piece of armor, though it seemed to stare right back at her. But I can't help but feel that it's not even a good one, and I can't believe that it could be the last. I took that oath to help people, not to harm them.
The Warden shook her head, trying to get rid of her doubtful thoughts. She stood and looked back down at the helmet before grabbing it. She stamped out the fire which had already begun to fade before looking at the moon. She could only hope that she was on the right path of her life. Avice turned and walked into the tent, laying down on her small makeshift bed. She sighed one last time before falling to a deep sleep.
The wet ground that was composed of bloodied mud rumbled, causing the little girl to open her eyes reluctantly. Her bright blue eyes were still teary from many nights before, so she had to wipe them away of that salty liquid before being able to see clearly. She pushed herself up from the cold corpse of her father and looked to the loud rumbling sound. She fell back to the ground, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention from anyone.
A large wooden wagon being pulled by two mules was what caused the creaky sound. It was being escorted by an armored figure on his own brown horse. He had the form of a Warden—a warrior that fought for honor and justice from the stories of old that the young girl had been told by her father. His armor was bronze, and his cloth was colored purple and gold, which were a pair of colors that the young girl vaguely recognized.
The Warden led the wagon in the distance on top of a small hillside when the convoy seemed to stop. The young Avice Esclair watched as he turned his horse to the village. As he made his way to Avice, she watched him intently, not making a sound. She wanted to be sure that he was not planning on doing any malicious thing. After a few minutes of observing the man, the young girl called for help. It was a faint call, and it was hardly enough to alert anyone that was not right on top of her.
The Knight turned his attention to Avice. Taking a few steps over, he knelt down beside her. Checking her father's pulse first, she could hear him sigh before turning his full concentration to her. She could feel his eyes look her up and down, but she couldn't see them beyond that bronze helmet.
"Are you all right?" Even though the Warden's voice emanated from behind his helmet, it was clear and struck through the sounds of the flickering flames. The metal head covering resembled a common Arcturus helm, except that it had extra openings just below the two eye gaps. His shoulders were embellished with spikes that rose from the bronze sporadically, and a sturdy steel sword hung low from within its scabbard as he knelt beside the young girl.
"I-I'm f-f-fine." Avice said, her voice betraying her words.
"You don't seem to look that way." The man said, chuckling after a little bit. He wanted to make the little girl feel less scared than she seemed to be. He wanted to take her mind away from the death and misery that surrounded her.
"Come." The Warden said in a friendly voice as he began standing. "I can give you food and water."
Avice was hesitant, but at this point she couldn't be a choosing beggar. She began to stand slowly, still not fully trusting this Warden. He pointed to the wagon that sat a few minutes' walk away from them. He began the short hike to the horse and carriage, having Avice follow with about a foot between the two.
When they reached the wagon, the Warden climbed into the back. Avice waited a few feet from the wagon. She heard the man's voice once again. He seemed to be talking to another one in the back of the carriage, and the second voice seemed much more inexperienced than his. The man climbed back out with a pitcher and some bread, which she took quickly.
It had been a long time since she ate or drank. The massacre of the village happened many days ago. So many that the young Avice could barely remember. In fact, the last thing that she could from that terrible day was everything going black. As she stood there eating and drinking to her heart's content, the young girl remembered the horrid things that happened not too long ago. She stopped eating when she recalled her father and his role in her life.
"Everything will be all right." The Warden said, breaking Avice from her memories. The young girl looked up at him with bright blue eyes that seemed a little dimmer. A moment later she broke into tears right there on the spot. As she cried softly, the man couldn't help but feel his heart break. He reached his arms around her, and she seemed to accept the embrace.
"Don't worry, little one." He whispered warmly. It had been a long time since he'd been the crying shoulder of someone, especially because of his career path.
When the she broke from his warm embrace, Avice fell to her knees, exhausted from all the tears that she had let loose. She collapsed onto the muddy ground and began to let weariness carry her away.
When Avice awoke suddenly, she was inside a building unknown to her. She was in a bed made from bear skins and wood, not something like the stacks of hay that she had used in the village she grew up in. A desk rested on the wall opposite her, and a large glass window rested above that, letting the bright morning light into the room and onto her. To her right, a closed door stood next to a dresser that was presumably filled with clothes.
She climbed out of the bed and onto the cold stone floor. It felt strange, as it was nothing like the rickety wooden floorboards that lined her old home. It felt firmer and stronger, though it was much harder and less comfortable on the feet. Avice walked silently to the window, her bare feet not making any noise against the thick stone floor. Climbing onto a little seat that was resting beneath the window, the young girl looked out through the glass.
A large field was visible. Filled with the beautiful orange trees of the season, luscious grass, and crystal-clear water, the area was certainly a perfect piece of scenery. In the distance, Avice could see a wall made of stone. She was in an enclosed space, presumably safe from any assault from the Vikings, Samurai, or rival Knights. Then again, perhaps she was in an unsafe place filled with evil men and women.
As the young girl climbed down from the chair, the door to the room swung open. An older woman—who looked to be in her late fifties—looked into the room, her brown eyes landing on the girl by the window. A dirty, toothy smile crept onto her wrinkled face.
"You're awake." She said, her voice very much suiting for her older body. "Come, Lord Vincent of the Royal Legion would like to talk with you."
Lord Vincent? Royal Legion? Avice had many questions, but they were not to be asked right now. She walked slowly to the older woman. Hesitantly, the young girl exited the room as the other woman closed the door. As Avice was escorted down the hall by the stranger, they passed no one. For such a large building, it was relatively empty.
The two finally made it to a large open room after about a minute of walking down carpeted walkways. A long wooden table with many seats stood in the center. Many large windows let in much sunlight into the room, making the golden chandelier that hung from the ceiling rather redundant. A man dressed in a Warden's armor was sat at the head of the table, his back turned to the pair. From the bronze armor plating and the colors of the cloth, it seemed to be the same Warden that took Avice from the destroyed village.
The older woman motioned for Avice to go talk to him, which she did hesitantly. As she slowly approached the man, thoughts raced around her head. Was this something that she should be doing? Only time could tell.
(Re)Introducing Avice Esclair, created by MissBlackRock.