Shackles of War
War was such an ugly world. Everyone used to fight wars, even for the smallest reasons such as 'oh, you stole one cow of mine'. But of course, those were petty wars. Wars now are driven by political ambition, by necessity, by need, by greed, by wrath, by misunderstanding...by a lot of reasons.
And war is a shackled event. Although there is rampant evil, widespread crime-commiting and other atrocities, the truth is that ultimately war is a shackle in itself. Once you enter a war, how do you back out of a war? With the war draining your country, can you actually take care of the welfare of your people? Are your people loyal to you? Do they fight for you, or will they turn traitor last minute.
Wars are always full of ifs. Nothing is certain until the white flag is raised on one side.
All of a sudden, Magvel was at war.
It happened innocently one day. Without warning, Grado invaded Renais through the Renais-Grado border one fine morning.
When the news arrived at breakfast, Queen Ismaire accidentally spilt a drop of her tea from her cup the saucer while Joshua choked on his scrambled eggs in alarm.
Marisa herself had been admiring the cherry buds in the garden and did not hear the news until late morning.
For a week, there was nothing but bad news. By the middle of the next week, it was reported that Grado was making inroads into Renais and its soldiers were marching straight for its capital, having bypassed and slaughtered Renais' defense troops and mechanisms with surprising ease.
Further bad news came by the start of the following week. Grado had invaded Jehanna as well, via the Western shared border.
Queen Ismaire was quick to give instructions and call the citizens to arms. Soldiers were swiftly dispatched to the area, which had already been fortified as a precaution. Lancereavers were sent by the thousands; healing staves were delivered in truckloads. Pure water was distributed to each and every soldier, and they were warned to look for each other and alert one another of a magic attack or a javelin out of the blue.
Joshua, as the Prince of Jehanna, had the duty of leading the army in battle. Together with a group of healers from the infirmary, such as Natasha and the two junior clerics whom she had overheard last year, and a group of his most trusted guards, he set off.
"Joshua, be careful," Queen Ismaire reminded again and again as Joshua saddled Winchester, who snorted and reared. "I cannot tell you enough. Those Grado soldiers are tricky, and they outnumber us. You must be careful. Be very careful Very careful."
"I understand, Mother," he comforted, giving Queen Ismaire a peck on her cheek. "I'll look behind my back for any unanticipated attacks."
"My queen," the captain of the guards bowed. "Never fear; we will protect the prince with our lives."
"I only fear that the lives of our people may not be enough to stop Grado's advance," Queen Ismaire sighed. "They have grown truly formidable, having had their power unchecked."
Joshua bowed to his mother once again, and came up to her. "Marisa…"
"Good luck Joshua," she said, looking up at him.
"You will be here waiting for me, won't you?" he asked softly.
She nodded, cheeks turning red. Everyone is watching for heaven's sake! Even the cooks and the nurses! And your very own mother!
"I'll be comforted by the thought that my wife is waiting for me back here," he continued. "I'll stay safe for you, Marisa."
He is…so sweet sometimes. She bit her lip. Staying beside him made it increasingly difficult for her to keep her permanent poker face. He was so emotional at times like these that his words could move everyone to tears.
"I await your safe return," she nodded.
"I'll be going then," he concluded, leaning in and gently brushing his lips against her forehead. "I'll miss you."
She watched wistfully as he hoisted himself deftly onto the saddle.
Winchester reared, and broke into a gallop. The other horses neighed and whinnied and followed suit, breaking out into a furious gallop across the grass.
They watched until the group of horses and riders disappeared from view, before retreating back into the safety of the castle.
Only then did she realize her cheeks were wet with tears.
Once Joshua left, the palace seemed empty all of a sudden.
Marisa knew most of the servants and guards were still here; and the ministers still congregated ever so often in the meeting rooms to discuss another one of their either impractical or useless battle strategies. Belle was still her personal servant; and she often saw the girl walking around. Queen Ismaire was still here, but with Joshua's departure she seemed jerkier in her usually fluid movements and spilt her tea with increasing frequency.
Things just seem different with Joshua away.
As she lay awake at night in their bed, she found herself unable to sleep unless she clutched his pillow to her. The pillow still retained some of his musky scent, and she found comfort in that scent, fooling herself into believing that he was still beside her.
Am I not out of love with him? Why…am I pining for him?
She found herself listless and lethargic most of the time. She spent increasing amounts of time in their room, stroking their possessions and reminiscing about their time together.
Perhaps if there had been just a twist of fate that had changed history…things would be different. Maybe they wouldn't be so cold and distant towards each other…maybe they could have been a normal couple…
She frequently opened his wardrobes and ran her hands over his silk garments. The slippery feeling of his clothes on his hands was a comfort to her, and the scent that wafted from his wardrobe calmed her down. Just to see or touch something that had once belonged to him soothed her frazzled nerves as she could not help herself but worry about his safety.
Indeed, how could one not worry when bad news kept streaming in through the messengers?
Reports of serious Jehannan defeats continually coming to the palace. The endless bad news brought many of the ministers down in the form of emotional breakdowns or illnesses, and gradually affected the Queen's appetite.
Jehanna was not weak. It was just that Grado was densely populated and they had a huge oversized army that could overpower any other country's. Even if one Jehannan soldier was as skilled as three Grado enemies, if one Jehannan was faced with ten Grado soldiers, it would definitely result in a situation where the soldiers were swarmed and defeated because they were enclosed by the enemy.
Joshua was stationed at the main post of defenses, in the middle of the length of the border. They still held on, amidst unfavourable reports, and still retained their position, insistently not allowing the Grado soldiers to pass through. She was relieved; Joshua was guarding a strategic position. If that place fell, it would open the floodgates for the Grado soldiers, and it will mean a complete and swift defeat for Jehanna.
Other places, however, were not so resilient. Many held on, but many more were captured or killed, creating loopholes in their defenses that allowed the Grado soldiers to swarm in like ants.
Initially, Queen Ismaire had attempted to plug these holes by sending reinforcements, but it soon proved useless. Once infiltrated, the Grado soldiers established themselves firmly and did not allow themselves to be dislodged. She eventually gave up that strategy and devoted the soldiers to reinforcing the positions that were still holding out, or to break the Grado soldiers' supply chain.
However, despite Jehanna's heroic efforts, it was evident that Grado had the upper hand. They were like infectious fungi, swamping the area and spreading their territory outwards in a mushrooming pattern, wiping out every form of resistance they encountered.
Fortunately, Jehanna was a mercenary state, which implied that much of the citizens were well-skilled in arms combat. As such, the Queen, the Leader of the Mercenaries, took the other route and engaged in guerilla attacks on the Grado soldiers, which proved effective in halting the supply lines. She also employed a 'scorch-earth' policy, harsh as it was, it was effective in slowing down the Grado advance by depriving them of any resources that was lost from Jehannan possession, leaving the invaders with little choice but to rely on their supply lines, already rendered undependable by guerilla soldiers.
In spite of all these battle tactics and strategies and resistance, the Grado army still managed to make its way slowly but surely towards the heart of Jehanna, towards the capital, and eventually, towards the castle.
Marisa clutched her shamshir tighter and stabbed at her imaginary target. She may be needed to defend the castle; and if she were required to, as a loyal citizen of Jehanna, she would give it her best.
"Princess Marisa!" Belle poked her head through the open doorway. "There is a guest waiting for you. He is in the Hall of Serendipity. Will you see him? He announces himself as Mister Saleh."
Saleh! She replaced the robe she had been stroking and raced out towards the Hall of Serendipity.
"Saleh!" She exclaimed as the figure sitting on the couch rose to meet her.
"I heard about your husband's absence, I hope all is well in the palace," Saleh began. "The soldiers from Grado are nearly in the capital already, Marisa. You need to run."
She looked bewildered for a minute before shaking her head resolutely. "I cannot run, Saleh. If you want to run, I'm sorry but I cannot join you."
Saleh sighed bitterly. "I'm not running, Marisa, but I fear for your safety. The Grado soldiers are ruthless; there are countless stories of the many atrocities that they committed as they made their way here. You, as the princess…they will not be kind towards you."
"It's a war, how could they be kind to an enemy?" She replied. "It's alright, I understand Saleh. I thank you for your concern, but I'm staying to guard the palace."
"Why don't you understand, Marisa?" Saleh cried all of a sudden. He stood up abruptly and ran a hand agitatedly through his curls. "The Grado soldiers will break you! They will rape, torture and kill you! You cannot stay here! I cannot allow you to stay here!" He clasped her to him. "Marisa, for your own safety…you must leave this place now…"
She struggled out of his embrace. "Saleh, I cannot abandon the palace," she reasoned. "I am the princess; if even the princess loses faith, what will the people do? How can I leave Queen Ismaire herself to defend the throne?"
"But it was never your responsibility in the first place!" Saleh protested. "That husband of your forced you into it, coerced you into accepting it!" He took her hands. "If it were someone else, I could hardly care less for their safety and whatnot. But it is you Marisa…and that makes a world of difference to me…" His eyes glistened. "Should something happen to you…how will I live on?"
He…really does love me…
Saleh…
My best friend…
There was a loud crash, the sound of rock smashing and wood disintegrating. It was followed by shrill screams and loud cries of alarm.
"It's the Grado soldiers!" Saleh paled. "But they are here already? I never noticed that they advanced this quickly…This is madness…Marisa, you have to leave now! While there is still time, escape by the back exits and run away from this place until the danger is over!"
Run away? Far far away and wait for the war to be over?
Forsake her mother-in-law, Belle, her friends…Joshua?
Was that possible, at all?
No.
He who runs away lives to fight another day…
No.
You could always take revenge…
Never.
Come on…the path to freedom lies in the midst of chaotic nonsense…
I refuse.
Ahh…you're wavering…not so resolute anymore are you?
No.
I knew it. Leave. You missed the chance with Rennac and the one with Saleh. You will not miss this one and engage in foolery that does not concern you.
No. It concerns me.
How? Because Joshua married you by chance and made you princess? That's laughable.
Because…
Because?
Because…
Even Saleh asked you to leave. Do you need him to be on his knees before you take his advice you stubborn mule?
Because…
Useless nonsensical reasons of chivalry and bravery.
Because…I cannot give up the things I love so easily.
Because I cannot let my mother-in-law defend this place by herself.
Because I cannot allow Grado to take over the place I love.
Because I cannot ignore the first rule of being a swordmaster: loyalty.
Because I cannot leave my people in the lurch.
Because I cannot abandon my best friend by himself here to defend the castle.
Because I cannot forsake all those servants who will depend on me to defend them.
Because I have grown to love this place, love the people around me, love my friends, love everything around me that has been surrounding me for the past year.
And I cannot give them up so easily.
"I'm staying." There was a new resolve in her voice. "I'm staying here to protect the castle. I love this place; I love Jehanna. I will defend it with my life."
Amidst the loud noises and shrill screams, it was getting harder and harder to communicate verbally.
Saleh looked worried but nodded. "I understand, Marisa, and I respect your decision. I will fight alongside you and protect you till the end."
She smiled. "Thank you, Saleh."
There was a deafening crash that sounded as though the world was being torn apart, followed by discordant screaming and yelling and roaring.
"The door's broken down!" A maid screamed as she fled. "The door's broken down!"
Saleh leapt to his feet, withdrawing a thick tome from the depth of his cloak. "They must have used a ram, those Grado curs. They shall have a taste of my Elfire."
She nodded, unsheathing her shamshir. "Let's go." She bolted out of the door, followed closely by Saleh.
The usually immaculate palace was in a state of chaos, with vases smashed, curtains torn and tables overturned by the servants' flurry to escape from the infiltrated palace. The guards had all been relieved from their posts to fight the enemies streaming in.
A cold blast of air hit her as she ran, causing her to stop in her tracks.
"What's wrong?" Saleh asked, panting.
Stefan.
She could hardly leave him inside there alone; in the chaos of the battle, surely someone would kill him, by chance or on purpose.
And that was if the guards hadn't killed him already in a vengeful fury.
"I need to get somebody," she replied, racing down the slippery steps. She saw Stefan, still dressed in black, standing nervously in the last cell, clutching the grills furiously.
"Thank god, princess!" He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw her. "I thought everyone was going to forget about me!"
"Stand back," she ordered. Raising her shamshir, she broke the lock in one swift stroke.
Stefan kicked the metal door open effortlessly. "Thank you princess, I presume my dearest motherland invaded?"
She rolled her eyes. "Yes." She threw him a pair of killing edges. "Take these and go."
He looked surprised. "You're giving me weapons? Aren't you going to kill me before I can backstab you or something?"
She frowned. "I believe in a fair fight, Stefan. Choose your allegiance and fight. If you wish to join your fellow comrades, we shall meet on the battlefield."
He nodded. "I look forward to seeing you on the battlefield in that case." He sprinted away.
"What was that?" Saleh asked when she returned.
She hesitated. She had just released a fellow prisoner, all because she was a staunch believer on the rules of swordsmanship. "Just another one of my mistakes," she replied finally.
It was absolute hysteria at the main foyer of the Jehannan palace. Through the broken gate, which now hung uselessly by its side, scores of Grado soldiers clad in grim black armour streamed in, raising their glinting weapons. Jehanna's soldiers, clad in the royal crimson armour were engaged in fierce combat with the infiltrators, trying to hold their positions by the door leading to the interior of the palace.
Swordmasters, mainly Jehannan, weaved their way through the enemies, relying on their speed to disarm and kill as many enermy soldiers as possible before they themselves were encircled and taken prisoner, if not killed. Snipers hid behind the rows of soldiers, looking for unsuspecting targets until they were speared through by the swordmasters on their killing rampages. Where normally a large size meant a good foyer, a large sized foyer now meant that even the wyvern lords could enter freely and engage in combat, spearing their targets with speed and strength while their mounts tossed a soldier into the air with a hoarse cry. Grado's army of druids were lined around the hall, concealed by their armoured comrades. From there, they worked their magic in piece, draining the soul out of the Jehannan soldiers with their dark magic. Jehanna's own sages were more robust, and they dashed around the room, reciting incantations and watching in satisfaction as they brought down another screaming wyvern. The healers trotted through the crowd, dodging whatever they could and healing their own comrades, before they were cut down by the enemies.
In short, it was chaos. Pure chaos.
Without the need for prompting, Saleh dived into the fray, flinging his tome to a specific page. Focusing his concentration, he mumbled the incantation written on the page and directed his energy at the Grado wyvern rider in the middle of the hall. Three eerie circles lit up in mid-air and dissolved into a burning sign of flame. Suddenly, the wyvern dropped the soldiers it had been holding in its mouth and reared, opening its mouth in a silent scream. The earth itself seemed to open up as flames leapt from the floor and engulfed the wyvern and its rider is a cylinder of red-hot fire. Nothing remained of the rider and his wyvern beside black ash.
Wow. She silently marveled at the power and skill of Saleh's anima spellcasting.
Lifting her own sword, she dashed across the field, taking out one of the Grado healers with a kick to her head. Propelled forward by the voice of the kick, she sliced the neck of one Grado soldier and slit the wrists of his sniper comrade who had been hiding behind him.
Whirling around, she dodged the spear thrown at her head and back-flipped, knocking out a druid in the process. Her feet landed precisely on the elevated banister and she sprang through the air, landing atop the wyvern's back with its rider. Fending off the frenzied attacks of the rider, she sliced him with her shamshir, then with a kick, sent the wyvern flying in pain out of the doors. She somersaulted back onto the ground just in time and eliminated another swordmaster.
Five enemies, all in one minute and she did not suffer a single scratch.
She permitted herself a second of rest and a brief satisfied smile.
Her skills had not tarnished after all.
Queen Ismaire had taken her own shamshir to join her soldiers in defending the castle. Moving with a deadly grace, she sliced her way through the enemies who surrounded her, dodging and ducking all the while. However, age still slowed down her movements, and she was gradually fatigued from the constant evasions. Seeing their chance, the Grado soldiers pressed forward.
Rapidly taking out the enemies before her, she fought her way to where Queen Ismaire was. From the corner of her eye, she could see Saleh making his way towards the queen as well, scorching whoever that was in his way.
Frustrated by the swarm of enemies between him and Queen Ismaire, Saleh reached out his hand and twisted his wrist in an elaborate gesture. A perfectly symmetrical star formed before him out of shimmering white vapour, and a line of fire rose from the ground like an angry writhing dragon, burning all those in his way.
"Your highness!" Saleh rushed through the clear passage. "Are you injured?" He pulled out a healing stave and healed the queen, before throwing setting another wall of fire against the incoming Grado soldiers.
"Thank you," Queen Ismaire panted.
"Saleh!" Marisa shouted to be heard above the din. "You cover the front, I'll cover her highness' back!"
Saleh nodded and cast another spell at an audacious young sage who had tried to cast a fireball at him, ending the life of another Grado soldier.
She turned back towards her opponents, a wall of grim-faced, black-armoured soldiers with the taste for blood.
I am fighting for my queen. I am fighting for my country.
There was a reason why people feared her.
And these soldiers were just about to understand why.
She willed herself to run, and with her sword outstretched, she weaved through the soldiers before any of them could react. Her trusty shamshir cut through steel and flesh, but it remained as sharp and true as ever. In a flash, she returned to where she had stood just a moment ago, surveying the victims on the floor, some groaning, some still twitching, but most had already perished before they even knew it.
But as soon as they fell, another fresh wave of soldiers replaced them. And after they too fell, another group came. And another group. And another group.
It was like a never-ending procession full of Grado soldiers.
They want to flood us with soldiers, she thought. Until we are tired and unable to fight, after which they will take us out.
"Your highness!" She exclaimed as a soldier thrust his lance at Queen Ismaire's back. Saleh was trapped by a circle of soldiers, and he could only do so much as to free himself. She herself was engaged in combat with five soldiers at once.
A clap of thunder, loud enough to make her drop her sword, deafened her ears and struck the lance, promptly causing it to disintegrate into ash. The soldier himself collapsed after being hit on the head with a heavy broad two-edged sword.
"We're here!" Gerik boomed, crushing his sword down on another soldier.
"Queen Ismaire…" Ewan looked at the queen in awe. "Oh!" He ducked as a soldier poked his lance at him. "Take that you nasty worm!" Poking out his tongue at the soldier, he conjured at fireball and threw it at the soldier.
Tethys was dancing, in the middle of the battle, causing many Grado soldiers to stop and watch. Their eyes slowly turned glassy, as though they were hypnotized. They froze, rooted to the spot, even as Gerik crashed through them, eliminating them one by one.
"They turned her dancing into a offensive weapon," Ewan explained, squealing in delight to be engaged in real combat. "And now she and Gerik are a team!"
Marisa nodded and slashed at the neck of the tall grey horse before her. "What?" she exclaimed as her shamshir was blocked by a silver lance.
"We meet again, whore." The man atop the horse nodded at her, before driving his lance straight towards her heart.
"Fulrer," she snarled, dodging his lance. She knew that there was something fishy about this man, and today his true identity was revealed.
He was little more than a traitor bought over by Grado.
"I'll see you die in my hands today," he sneered scornfully, pulling on the reins of his horse.
The grey horse reared and brought its hooves crashing down to the ground. If she had not managed to back flip out of the way, she would have been crushed.
They sparred; she with her shamshir, he waving his lance, trying to find a weak spot. His lance flew towards her arm, and she leapt sideways onto the ground to evade it. When she turned over, he loomed over her, proud and victorious. "Prepare to die, whore." He raised his lance high above his head.
Damn, I will hate to die now.
She racked her brains, hunting rapidly for an escape.
Rennac's needles!
Slipping a hand into her belt, she took three of the pack of needles concealed within. She took careful aim at his triumphant smile, at his glinting beady eyes, at his disgusting face and flung them towards him.
One missed, but one hit his neck, and the other hit him right on the forehead.
With a cry, he toppled from his horse onto the ground. With tortured screams, he clutched at his wounds, scratching at his flesh, which were already beginning to swell.
She picked herself up slowly.
So this is what Rennac was talking about when he meant secret weapons…it works in a pretty cool way…
A blue light enveloped Lord Fulrer, and he stopped scratching and screaming. His face slowly relaxed into a look of peace. The swellings grew smaller instead of larger.
What? She reeled in shock. Healers.
She glanced around rapidly, raising her sword just in time to block off a blow from Lord Fulrer's silver sword. She saw it. At the far end of the room, standing in one obscure corner blocked by a wall of druids, was Helen. She was as immaculate as ever, and as serene as ever, but she held a physic staff in her hand, and her mouth was mumbling prayers.
"Ewan!" She shouted hoarsely, deflecting another blow from Lord Fulrer and making a cut on his wrist, which was instantly healed by the blue light.
"What?" Ewan shouted back, dodging a flux attack.
"That girl over there, with the golden hair. Kill her!" She replied, slashing at Lord Fulrer viciously.
"Oh? She's pretty!" Ewan cried.
"EWAN!" She shouted in exasperation as she warded off another one of Lord Fulrer's crazed swings. This man was out to kill.
Flashing her a guilty look, Ewan withdrew a bolting tome and murmured the incantation.
Lightning enveloped the hall from nowhere and with a cry, Helen fell, consumed by the spark.
The blue light disappeared.
Lord Fulrer cried out in horror and outrage.
She forced him to a corner.
"Whore," he spat, even though he was at death's door.
"Then die knowing that a whore killed you," she snarled, slicing her shamshir across his jugular artery.
A guttural choking sound rose from his throat and he clutched at his neck as he slowly fell to his knees and toppled on the floor. Even in death, he wore an extremely disturbing expression contorted by rage, prejudice, hatred and guilt.
Cheats never prosper; never do traitors.
"Marisa!" Saleh shouted. "The queen asks to leave!"
She nodded and gave him a thumbs-up, one of their old signals used when they went on missions. Throwing a disdainful look at Lord Fulrer's corpse, she back-flipped, landed on the overhead banister, swooped down again and eliminated an enemy swordmaster and left the fray.
Author's Note:
I'm not good at fighting scenes. Sorry, folks.
BTW, to answer the flurry of queries I received, YES, THEY DID THE DEED. They consummated their marriage, but they are MARRIED. XDDD It makes sense right?
You know...like Eliwood+Wife=Roy...Hector+Wife=Lilina...Pent+Louise=Klein&Clarine
XD
Love ~ snowylavendermist