"Well, that was quite a whirlwind of a return, wasn't it?" Helen noticed, watching the last of the dust behind the warriors fall.
Arielle stood motionless, gazing out ahead, her eyes following a certain warrior she could no longer physically see. Helen frowned at the sight, not liking ever seeing anyone sad and Arielle already had longing etched into her face.
"Come now, little one," Helen said, ushering Arielle gently back to the Hospitaller quarters, "let's get you a hot meal and some proper rest. You'll see that you'll be feeling much better after that, don't you think?"
Arielle simply nodded, letting herself be led away. She felt a strange gnawing at her heart and didn't know whether it was regret for all the time they had wasted, anger that she didn't insist on going, the emptiness of missing Eden already, or a little bit of everything. Yet, when they found themselves in the kitchen and the bard had hot soup put in front of her, it was frustration that took over.
"If you continue to tap that spoon down any harder, you'll make a hole straight through to the floor." Helen gently noted, slowly eating her own soup.
"I should have gone." Arielle said bitterly, "I shouldn't have let them convince me to stay."
"They had your best interests at heart, Arielle. They just wanted to protect you."
"And why can't I protect them?!" Arielle nearly shouted. Protector?
The bard surprised herself with her outburst and her gaze dropped down to her soup. Helen watched her quietly for a while.
"You're such a cheerful, yet determined little one," Helen noted warmly, catching the bard's curious gaze as it rose to meet hers, "The frame of a young maiden housing the heart of a lion... Yet not even a lion enters a fight unprepared... Look at you, you're so pale and thin; would you even be able to pick up your own weapon? It's a noble thing to want to protect your friends, Lord knows there are far too few that would. But you have to be ready and you, poor child, look like a breeze could knock you over. Tell me, what's the use to your friends if you get yourself killed?"
Arielle listened to the sister's words and realized that she was right. And right then and there, Arielle renewed her promise to herself and also to Eden, to become a friend and companion that Eden could rely on.
As the days dragged on, Arielle helped Helen with her different duties in the kitchen and in the hospital. She even had the chance to share some little secrets that she had picked up from Eden about herbs and their medicinal properties. While Helen tended to the sick and wounded, Arielle told them stories, letting them find some relief from their misery for at least a few minutes. Arielle felt a little piece of herself awaken again in the smiles and thanks that she received for her storytelling. She also felt another feeling that she couldn't seem to describe or name and that gently danced in the corner of her mind, though it seemed more obvious to others.
"Did you notice, little one," the sister said with a slightly mischievous twinkle in her eye as they were returning to the kitchen to take their supper, "that all the stories you tell are about a certain warrior I believe we both know?"
"They are?" Arielle asked, a slight blush beginning to cross her face.
"Quite so. You speak with such passion and conviction; it really is a pleasure to hear. Hasn't anyone told you that before?... And since I don't believe that you tell falsehoods in your stories, I'd say you're quite blessed with such a loyal and courageous friend... She seems to be very special..."
"Yes... she is..."
But helping Helen wasn't enough to fill the bard's days and she had to find something more to do to take her mind off of missing and worrying about Eden and the strange sensations she sometimes had in her stomach. So the bard flung herself wholeheartedly into training. Helen had helpfully mentioned to take advantage of the training grounds and weapons that the Hospitallers had. Arielle also asked some of the knights what their training looked like and was determined to copy it. She ran, jumped, lifted and carried heavy objects, did all sorts of gymnastics, and practiced her archery as well as the sword skills Eden had taught her. She quickly noticed that she was indeed weakened, but once the bard's mind was made up, there was no stopping her. She smiled at the thought that as far as stubbornness was concerned, she might be better at it than Eden. Every time the bard's muscles burned or her body wanted to give up, she remembered Eden carrying her when she was sick and the resolution she made then to be able to do the same. Helen looked on half in awe at the blond's resilience and half in horror that the bard would train herself to death. What Helen didn't know was that Arielle probably wouldn't have minded because when the day ended, the nightmares always came.
Mirabel wasn't far from Jerusalem, yet what could be covered in a day's ride took the large line of warriors longer to traverse. The horses, footmen, and wagons with the most essential of supplies kicked up a thick dust which made everyone's throats dry and scratchy and the full sun beating down on them wasn't helping matters. Eden undid her neck guard as almost everyone did to let some air under her chainmail. She donned a gray tunic with a white cross, identifying her as belonging to no Order, but as an ally of them. She rode alongside Lawrence and with the other Hospitallers near the end of the line.
"I forgot what it's like to fight in the sun covered in metal." Eden grumbled, "I think I'm beginning to boil."
Lawrence chuckled, knowing the feeling all too well. He stole a glance at the warrior and noticed her furrowed brow.
"How was your time away?" he asked simply.
"Alright... We talked, we argued, we shouted, we hugged... It's fine." Eden tried to downplay with a shrug.
"I'm glad to hear that," he answered, understanding the rest of the answer that she hid beneath her words, "although you still seem worried."
"I don't know, Lawrence... I have this strange feeling... like she's always behind me... Maybe I should have let her come along..." Eden explained, rolling her left shoulder a little.
"Is that shoulder keeping you up nights?" a low voice from behind them asked.
Eden waited for Garrett to trot up beside her to shoot him a cold stare to which he responded with a sly grin.
"I'm just concerned, Eden."
"Of course you are." she replied sarcastically.
He grabbed hold of one of her hands along with her reins tightly.
"We made a great pair once." he rumbled.
"We never were a pair, Garrett. A few walks and a couple of kisses doesn't make you my betrothed."
"But you have to admit that we do make an ideal match." he continued, "The perfect soulmates."
"You would have to have a soul first." Eden muttered.
"I could give you everything. Anything you've ever imagined could be yours if you were by my side." he persuaded, unmoved by her coldness.
"I don't want anything from you." she said shortly, which got a heavy sigh from him in response.
"It's not that little blond twat, is it?" he asked accusingly, leaning back a little in his saddle and tilting his head, "I knew I should have finished with her when-"
In an unconscious reaction, Eden slipped out of the Templar's grip and grabbed his arm in quick fury.
"Don't you dare touch my friends, Garrett," she growled, a ferocity flashing in her eyes, "Or you'll regret it."
"So it is the pale little tartlet." he noted, amused with Eden's anger, "I would have thought you'd have better taste in people by now. She is an outlaw, you know."
"Only according to you."
"Yes, well," he replied, waggling his hand nonchalantly, "not even you can be with her everywhere... I could, however, be somehow... persuaded to leave her alone..." he now purred, running a finger through her hair.
"Your charm is useless. I won't warn you again." she stated, moving her head away.
"And neither will I." he suddenly snarled, a fury filling his eyes, "Judgment has been passed. God wills it!"
And with that, he roughly spurred his horse forward before Eden could even try to demonstrate the awesome distance between him and God. She watched him ride off, leaving an angry dust swirling in his wake.
"He's never going to give up, is he?" she quietly commented to Lawrence.
"Probably not. Thankfully, there are enough battles around here to keep him relatively busy."
She had known Garrett for quite a while. She had to admit there was something alluring in him, something within him that drew her darker part towards him like a moth to a deadly flame. And even though something sparked between them, when Garrett learned of Eden the guardian he became almost obsessed with becoming one too, leaving Eden the person far from his thoughts. And there was a chaotic element deep within him that made him forever unpredictable. It took so little to send him over the edge from anger to madness, an ice-thin boundary Eden knew well. It was, she realized, something she actually feared in him.
"Lawrence," she said in an abrupt realization, "if something ever happens to me, promise me you'll take care of Arielle."
"Eden, if this is about-"
"Just promise me, Lawrence." she repeated, meeting his warm eyes with her sharp ones, "Whatever happens, take care of her. Keep her safe."
The Hospitaller didn't like her tone of premonition and he couldn't even imagine telling Arielle that Eden was gone. But Eden had only once in all her years asked him to do something for her when she had decided to abandon the God she thought had abandoned her first. Before throwing herself headlong into a silent death wish, she made him promise not to follow her; she didn't want him hurt. In the end, her love for him was most significant. And now she was asking again because her love for the both of them was most important.
"I promise." he stated.
Upon hearing those two words, Eden knew that even if Satan toppled the mountains and flooded the valleys, Lawrence would not go back on his word.
The Orders that somewhat reluctantly agreed to be led by Garrett, had stopped when scouts spotted Dorian and the mercenaries on the horizon beginning to lay siege to Mirabel. Whether they were afraid of him or not, no one could deny that Garrett encompassed nearly all the attributes needed for an excellent commander. He quickly divided up duties and gave out instructions among the commanders of the individual Orders who then passed them down further and within minutes the desert seemed to stir and come alive with activity.
Garrett could smell the oncoming battle in the air and relished it as his nostrils flared and his eyes ignited. He turned towards the gathered commanders and elite warriors with a mad grin. Nearly everyone there gazed at him in the awe he himself inspired. The very impression of war filled his being and made him seem larger than life. Battle flowed through his veins and into his heart, soul, and mind, flooding them with an intoxicating rush. To his mind, all he did, he did for God and had absolutely no problem in fusing Christian benevolence with violent warfare. Garrett was an Old Testament warrior where right was rewarded, wrongs were punished, there was nothing in between, and submission was absolute. In truth, if it wasn't for his obsession with making Eden his, he probably would have punished her for her acts as a bandit. But his desire to punish the guardian was far weaker than his desire to become one and he blindly saw Eden as his road towards becoming God's chosen.
"Here's the situation." Garrett boomed in the hastily pitched tent, placing his index finger on the large map placed on a large wooden crate in the middle of them and watching everyone lean in to watch, "Mirabel is surrounded on all sides by an equal number of men. They formed two rings, swordsmen nearer the fortress, archers on the outside... It's the strangest thing I've ever seen... If we attack head on, the archers are already in position to take us down."
"What do you propose, Master Commander?" one of the Templars asked.
"We'll take Mirabel from two sides, the front and back." Garrett explained, drawing out the plan on the map with his finger, "First, archers go in to distract theirs with a couple of volleys while crossbowmen rush in and take out as many as they can in one or two volleys and then retreat. Then the lighter mounted men-at-arms charge the lines to take out the remaining archers. They'll retreat halfway to around here where our men-at-arms will be waiting in defensive formation. Hopefully, the fools will take the bait and chase the horsemen straight into the defensive line. The horsemen will then turn around along the outsides of the line and charge down the two remaining sides to cut down the remaining archers and then move back to here. When the ring around Mirabel breaks, the rest will either engage our forces here and here or they'll simply break and run. In that case, we'll chase them down." he ended with a dirty grin.
"Now, I want the Hospitallers here, Jerusalem here, and the Templars here. I want heavy horsemen and knights engaged only when the archers are gone." he continued until a scout ran up to him with a small paper which Garrett read twice and then turning to the scout asked, "Are you sure of this?"
The scout nodded quickly, Garrett nodded once, and the scout promptly left.
"Well, this will be interesting... It seems we have a legion to contend with along with about 500 men loyal to Dorian himself..."
"A legion?" Eden asked.
"Yes... strangely divided into exactly 200 units..."
"We're outnumbered 5 to 1!" one of the youngest Templars cried out.
"You dare compare Templars to Saracens and bandits?! Are these numbers supposed to move me? Make me cower into submission?!" Garrett growled, getting into the young knight's face, "Templars. Never. Run."
"Yes, Master Commander." he whimpered in response.
"These are not the Saracens we know, my brothers. These are petty mercenaries, bandits, and God only knows what other kind of filth jumbled into one, pathetic mass by a crazed noble. Please, don't act like hysterical women." he boomed with disgust at everyone and then shot a sly glance at Eden, "No offense."
"I propose to move just before dawn." Jerusalem's commander suggested gruffly to Garrett.
"Agreed. You all know your responsibilities. Until tomorrow. Deus vobiscum."
Everyone slightly bowed, promptly left the tent, and scattered to their own sections of the camp and duties.
It was quiet in the camp that night and Eden lay awake on her side, the buzzing in her ears bothering her again. She peered through the rustling, open flap of the tent past the light of dozens of campfires sending shadows flickering across the ground and looked out at the stars. She suddenly missed the times she and Arielle would draw pictures among them. She wondered what the bard was doing and if she was safe; Eden constantly worried about her safety. It all reminded her of the little packet the bard had forced into her hand right before she had left. She reached over to the small satchel on her belt and pulled it out. She carefully unwrapped the cloth and in the dull light a clasp in the shape of a hawk glinted before her. Her breath caught and she gazed at it, turning it over and over in her hands as if she didn't believe it was real. No one had ever given her a gift like this before. Eden clenched the clasp tightly, closed her eyes with the buzzing now quieter, and promised to live to let Arielle see her wearing it proudly.
"I think Eden will be quite pleased to hear that you took such good care of him." Helen said to Arielle as she was peeling carrots and the bard was ruffling the dog's fur.
"Really?"
"Oh yes. She grew quite attached to him when she lost her hearing. He seemed to understand her and he was the only thing that Eden would show any warmth towards. A little strange, isn't it? I wouldn't have thought that she could be so caring and gentle towards the poor animal, would you? I remember that she was afraid that if you ever came to visit, that you wouldn't like him."
"Why wouldn't I?" Arielle asked in surprise.
"Because he's broken... damaged..." Helen explained, a sadness crossing her face for a moment, "But I'm glad that you two took such a liking to each other now."
Arielle smiled down at the dog as she scratched him behind the ears.
"Helen?"
"Yes, dear?"
"Do you really think that Eden will come back?"
Helen caught the gravity in the bard's voice and how she wouldn't tear her gaze away from the dog that was staring up at her with trusting, sparkling eyes. The dog Eden had taken in and cared for when she herself had been lost and abandoned.
"Of course I do, little one." Helen answered softly, resting her hand on the blond's shoulder, "I sometimes wonder if the archangels themselves would be able to hold her back..."
Arielle smiled a little wider at the thought and watched the dog sneeze when a fly sat on its nose.
"Plus Eden knows she has something important to return to." Helen added, watching the bard closely.
Arielle turned towards the sister with a look of both understanding and confusion. Another sneeze brought her attention back towards the dog. Arielle watched as the fly buzzed around the poor animal's head and he simply followed it with his curious, amused eyes. Arielle felt like laughing- with a strong resilience like Eden's and curiosity like Arielle's, the dog couldn't have happened upon better caretakers. He finally looked at the bard with something like a doggish grin after the fly finally left him alone. Arielle shook her head in wonder. Despite all he had been through, he harbored no hate or anger towards the world, but was instead happy that someone, even the gloomy Eden, had taken him in and given him food, shelter, and a little care and attention.
"His name will be Felix." Arielle stated.
"Felix?... Oh, that is a good choice. He is a happy dog. I don't think I would have come up with a better name to be honest. Do you think Eden will like it? Oh, I'm sure she will. Yes, Felix suits him quite well."
"What do you say, Felix?" Arielle said to the dog who agreed with a short, happy bark and a wagging of his tail.
A creak of the kitchen door interrupted their conversation.
"Aldric, meet Felix." Arielle said to the former steward poking his head through the door as the dog wagged his tail furiously, "We're both happy to see you."
Aldric walked in with his usual noble pose and a gentle smile on his face. He greeted the two women warmly and then looked down at the dog.
"Where did you find him?" he asked with a furrowed brow.
"He's a stray and we just seemed to take him in." Arielle explained, his tense tone making her nervous, "Why?"
"I know that dog... He belonged to Dorian..."
Arielle felt her core turn to ice and her breathing stop for a second.
"What?" she choked out.
The bard reached out for Felix and scooped him up in her arms, holding him protectively as he licked her face a few times with appreciation.
"He was one of Dorian's hunting dogs... He's had so many that I could hardly keep track of them all... This one was different, he didn't seem to have the bloodthirsty instinct Dorian wanted so..."
As Aldric's voice died away, Arielle's eyes somehow instinctively darted to Felix's legs, finishing the young man's sentence.
"No..."
"Yes... Felix was meant to die slowly and in pain..."
"My God..." Arielle whispered, imagining something she didn't want to see and she pulled Felix closer to her.
"This is why he's so dangerous," Aldric said, putting one hand on her shoulder, "He'll stop at nothing to destroy those who defy him... He's very powerful and completely merciless... I just don't know if Eden-"
"Eden will come back." Arielle shot out fiercely and then took a slow breath, "She promised me dandelions..."
Both Helen and Aldric looked at her in confusion, but decided not to ask what she meant. The fierce challenge in the usually soft green eyes made him wonder if he wasn't by chance underestimating the blond entirely.
"Well, I think Felix is a great name..." he said in a lighter tone, "Before that, he was called Mutton."
"Which reminds me that the two of you are probably quite hungry." Helen observed.
They ate together in a more lighthearted atmosphere. They told a few stories, exchanged some news, and played with Felix. Aldric then said he had to go and he parted with them so gallantly that Helen nearly died of blushing. When he was gone, Helen finally noticed that Arielle had hardly eaten anything.
"What is it, dear child?" Helen asked with some concern, "I bought the fish today at the market. If it was any fresher, it would still be swimming. It doesn't agree with you?"
"I'm sorry, Helen. My stomach seems to want to revolt."
"Your stomach?... Well, that isn't good... I'll make you a little tea for that stomach, how would you like that?" Helen suggested until a sudden morbid thought struck her, "Arielle... dear child... you wouldn't be... with child, would you?"
"What?" Arielle replied looking up at Helen first in surprise and then horrid shock, "No... Oh, no! Dear God, no!"
"Alright, alright, child... Oh, such a silly thing for me to even say in the first place. Don't listen to my foolishness, young one, and just take your mind off the ugly thought. Now where are those herbs of mine?"
Arielle was walking over to the hearth to put some water on when she felt something like a large band clamp around her chest and her stomach ball up into a giant knot. It caught her with such force and surprise that she fell to her knees, the breath squeezed out of her. Helen ran to her side, yelling out her name and asking her what was wrong, but the blond couldn't hear or see anything. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to breathe normally, wondering what was going on with her. And as she began to panic, her guardian angel appeared before her.
"What's wrong with me?!"
"Breathe!" the angel commanded.
"I can't!"
"You must!"
"What... is this?!" Arielle yelled.
The angel crouched down beside her and put her hands on the bard's shoulders.
"You feel Eden's distress. Now breathe."
"Distress?" the bard asked, only panicking more.
"She needs you." the angel emphasized, "Breathe and focus your thoughts on her."
"I-"
"If you want to help her, do it!"
Arielle closed her eyes and focused on calming down. She forced her breaths out in a regular rhythm and tried to think only of Eden. And then somewhere deep within the caverns of her spirit, something was awakened and began to shine with a bright light that only they could see. Arielle felt a warm fire spread and flood her entire being. The angel smiled as she watched that fiery light beam out of Arielle in the form of great, protective wings that would be the envy of any angel. The wings spread out as Arielle brought her hands together and lowered her head slightly, her entire being aiding the warrior in need, and the angel noticed how much the bard now resembled the wooden angel carving she was given. Wherever you are on this earth, know that I am there with you.
A few moments later, the light faded, the fire went out, and Arielle found herself feeling as if she had been pulled out of a deep dream.
"What just happened?" she asked in a daze.
"You will learn what this is and you will feel something other than fear."
And on that cryptic note, the angel disappeared.
"Arielle!"
Helen held the bard by the shoulders and yelled out her name. The bard's head finally rose, the mossy green eyes looking up at her.
"Helen?" the bard said weakly, a little disoriented, noticing that she was kneeling on the floor, "How long have I been here?"
"How long?! Child, you've been here but a second! You suddenly slumped to the floor, I ran to you, and you looked up at me now." a confused and worried Helen explained, "Are you alright?"
"Eden's in trouble..."
The fortress sat atop a small hill, built of a nearly pure white stone that would blaze blindingly in the sun. The commanders and marshals observed the first weak signs of dawn beginning to awaken from in front of the already amassed forces. Everyone wore a solemnly hopeful face of concentration, praying for good weather and victory, yet all the time wishing they were back home. Garrett was the only one who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself.
There was no uplifting speech or regal trot down the line to give the men courage and a sense of purpose; Garrett hated theatrics. Instead he barked out his orders and expected everyone to know what they were doing. The sky began to blush with the early morning as the Orders marched into their places, splitting into two forces that stood opposite each other with Mirabel in the middle. They stood in formation and ready to execute Garrett's plan when the first rays of sunlight peered over the horizon and through gathering clouds.
The battle was well underway while Eden rode in search of Dorian. She knew that the cowardly noble would be as far from the front lines as possible, so she separated from Lawrence and the battle and made her way to a set of small hills not too far off and from which there was a good view of nearly the entire battlefield. She rode up from behind, then dismounted, fitted her shield, and approached the rest of the way on foot. Dorian wasn't there, but instead one of the princes of Hell was waiting with a smile.
"I was almost afraid you weren't going to come!" he declared, leaning on his sword and fixing his crown slightly with his free hand, "I heard you had... fallen ill..."
"Where's Dorian, Paimon?" Eden growled which sent the boyish looking demon into a fit of laughter.
"Oh, guardian, it was so easy to get to you! Tell me, wasn't my plan absolutely brilliant?! Wasn't it complete genius?!" Paimon taunted, hopping from one foot to another in a maniacal dance, "Don't you think Dorian plays his part so well? And that naïve, little child of yours, ha! I couldn't have asked for anyone better!"
Eden said nothing, gritting her teeth and squeezing the hilt of her sword, trying to keep her anger under control and her focus forefront. Paimon finally stopped his dance and frowned at her.
"I'm taunting you and you're not reacting. I wonder why Satan thinks you're special, you really are no fun..." he pouted, "Perhaps if I told you that while you're here, I have a small party probably scooping up your precious bard right now..."
Paimon sneered as his eyes bore into the guardian's. A surge of rage flooded her muscles, rushing to separate the demon's head from the rest of him. But Eden kept the rush back with all her will, hanging on the edge of snapping. She tapped into something deep inside herself, somewhere far into the quiet part of her conscience where the word of God lay. She felt no trouble there, no sickness or panic. She returned her entire focus to the demon.
"You lie." she growled with a feral grin spreading across her face.
Paimon's amusement dissipated as his bluff was called and it was replaced with a hasty anger.
"Satan knows, it's what I do." he hissed.
The words barely escaped his mouth when he swung his sword over his head and onto Eden's, which she blocked at the last possible second. She absorbed his force and pushed her sword back up against his, causing him to stumble back a little dumbfounded.
"Finally," Eden now taunted, "I was afraid you were going to talk me to death."
Paimon was a young, nimble fighter who moved forwards, backwards, and around Eden with the ease of a moth. He tapped her here and slapped her there with his sword, taking the greatest pleasure out of tiring and humiliating the guardian. Eden was too armor heavy to match his light agility. Yet instead of letting Paimon take advantage of his strengths, Eden decided to make use of his weaknesses.
"I don't know what you're so happy about." she commented to the prancing, grinning demon, "I heard you ran from Lawrence."
"What?!" he thundered, his glee immediately gone.
"Oh yes. You ran from him squealing like a pig. Paimon- the smallest of squealing swine."
"Die, bitch!" he screamed in a cry that nearly split her ears.
Paimon threw himself at her with the fury of a tempest, crashing his sword down with such force that it split her shield in two. He thrust, slashed, hacked, and sliced so wildly that Eden could barely parry him back, finding herself fully on the defensive.
It began to turn darker and darker as the looming clouds gathered overhead, growing more threatening. Eden was beginning to tire; her left shoulder throbbed. In his blind attacks, Paimon had found contact, leaving the warrior solidly battered and bruised. Yet even a demon's anger doesn't last forever and he began to take more time between swings and his breathing grew heavier. Eden noticed and then tapped into her own anger to push herself forward- the anger against the injustice of the world. Demons belonged to the darker places of the world and had no right meddling in the peaceful lives of innocent people... or bards.
Little by little, the guardian began to force Paimon back, her strength now equaling his and her skills surmounting the demon's. The sound of rain mingled with the clashing of their blades, the water now trickling down their dusty faces and leaving trails behind it. Eden was relentless as she swung at the demon from overhead and every side, not giving him a chance to counterstrike. She swiped hard at his head from the right which he leaned back to avoid, causing him to fall backwards. He quickly scrambled to one knee as Eden lunged at him with her sword overhead, blade downwards. He drove his sword up, the steel blades sliding along each other, the demon's longer blade reaching the end of her sword and carving a line against the side of her face. Eden ignored it, rapidly flicked her wrists, and twisted Paimon's sword from his hands, sending it flying to the side. He moved to retrieve it, but was stopped by the guardian's blade right between his eyes.
"Take your crown off." Eden commanded in heavy breaths.
"You won this little bout. You take it off."
"Take off your crown." Eden now growled, pushing the blade's edge forward.
Paimon gazed at her with a scowl of utter hate and slowly pulled his crown off of his head and held it in his hand.
"Remember this. You are no prince here."
"You know," Paimon hissed with a sinister grin on his youthful face, not letting Eden humiliate him for free, "I really liked that little bard... all her tears, pain, and unanswered prayers... If she had only jumped off that balcony, I would now be caressing her body-"
Eden shoved her sword forward with all her might at the image, finally silencing the demon. He toppled over into the mud, never letting go of his crown. Eden freed her sword and then closed her eyes in exhaustion, trying to catch her breath when she heard a low, but scratchy voice behind her that made her skin crawl.
"He always was a little impatient. Never listened to his elders."
Eden turned slowly towards the voice. Her eyes rested upon a figure that resembled a middle-aged man with a slightly large head and bushy beard, only a little shorter than the guardian. Yet, Eden also noticed the standard he had struck into the ground with the markings of Satan and Hell and the two small horns sticking out through his thin hair. And Eden knew the battle was far from over.
"And impatience," he continued idly in a low, cracking voice, "leads to mistakes... Yet, one thing is true- Satan does take an interest in you."
"He must," Eden answered cautiously, finding her voice again, "if he sent you, Azazel."
"Mhm," he agreed with a nod, suddenly brandishing a short handled, yet large pike, "but I assure you, I haven't come to talk. I've only come to kill."
"Then I'm afraid you're only wasting your time."
"Really? And here I thought pride was a sin."
The pike came down right in front of her with a nearly thunderous crash and Eden jumped back at the last minute.
"Maybe I'll make you kneel in humility yet." he drawled coolly, flipping his pike around in circles with ease.
He suddenly whipped it around, attacking Eden low, knocking her feet out from under her and sending her sprawling into the mud.
"There was good reason for the Fall." he continued in a conversational tone as Eden scrambled back up, "You humans are such pathetic, sniveling creatures. No self-respecting angel would bow before you."
He swung high this time, Eden ducked, yet he quickly reversed when she rose and came back with a violent blow to her right shoulder which again sent her into the mud with a loud groan.
"God's greatest creation- ha! More like most monumental disaster! Nevertheless, Satan thinks you are... special." Azazel continued, calmly watching the guardian get back up, "But not enough to let you live."
"Go back to the abyss you come from, standard bearer." Eden growled over the now pouring rain.
"See? There's that pride again." Azazel chuckled menacingly, twirling his pike again, "No one ever listens to their elders."
Eden could hardly stand it. Defeating Paimon had nearly drained her of everything and this demon was much older and stronger. He swung with a force powerful enough to break her bones if she wasn't careful. He charged forward, almost impaling her, but she managed to jump to the side. She tried to slice into his back, but he swiveled around quickly and deflected it, bringing the end of the pike around and slamming it into her face. Eden flew to the ground, landing face down in the mud that was growing deeper and thicker, the sticky stuff making it hard to move. She turned onto her back in time to see Azazel lean over her and grab her left shoulder. In complete contrast to his rather weak resemblance, he picked her up with one hand, squeezing his fingers around her shoulder. It began to burn with an intensity the warrior had never known before, making her cry in pain into the dark sky. The demon flung her to the side like a rag doll and laughed when she hit the ground and tumbled over once in the mud. He stood looming over her before she had a chance to get up. Instinctively, she defensively held her sword across herself and felt it strain under Azazel's overhead swing. She watched as he pushed down on her, his pike creeping so close to her face that it was already out of focus.
Her arms were trembling under the strain of the demon's weight, her muscles burned, her heart hammered wildly, and her face contorted in the great trial of her strength and resolve. The demon's, hot, sulfury breath fell down onto her face and it made it hard to breathe as he continued to bear all his weight down on the pike. As she choked and strained, she could feel the different parts of herself on the verge of shutting down. She closed her eyes and pulled back into the deep confines of her mind. Is this how I will end? Is this it? She could almost hear her muscles tearing and her bones creaking. And when she felt the tip of the pike already cutting against her throat, she let a few last words form in her mind with the hope that they might fly off with her soul and reach the ones they were meant for.
Yet the words were then blown away by a familiar yet strange whisper of her name and soft words of comfort. She had heard that voice before, but couldn't remember from where or what time. It was both ancient and present, both foreign and of her own heart. For a moment, Eden was convinced she was dying and angels had come to take her away until she felt a flame ignite in her chest, burning angrily and commanding her to continue to fight. She felt something both gentle yet powerful wrap around her entire body, as if forming a second suit of armor. A resilience to live spilled into her veins and the words of an ancient promise filled her lungs.
A flash in the reopened blue eyes surprised the demon and he felt his weapon being slowly pushed back.
"What is this?" he croaked in bewilderment.
With a rebellious yell, Eden forced him back enough to be able to scramble to her feet and face the demon. She felt the blood running down her neck, but ignored it. Azazel attacked her again and again and Eden kept avoiding his strikes, waiting for a good moment to counterattack. But the demon didn't want to give her that chance. With the pike in one hand, he swung across her chest and Eden leaned back just enough to avoid it. The fist that came to follow, however, found its target on the side of Eden's face and sent her down quickly. She heard a ringing in her ears and a part of her began to worry that her hearing had been damaged again. Azazel calmly stood over the guardian with a wide smile on his face. His smile faded when Eden thrust upwards on instinct and her sword found its way through the bottom of his chin. Azazel's eyes widened in disbelief as she looked up at him with a cold stare. She pulled her sword out, rolled away, and stood up as he staggered forward a few steps. He choked up blood that ran down his lower lip and chin down to the pool of red that had already swallowed his neck and chest. His pike clattered to the ground as he fell to his knees. Black, hated-flooded eyes peered up at the unmoved guardian. And then he finally dropped face down into the mud and the standard bearer returned to his post in Hell.
Eden looked at the lifeless body for several moments as if afraid it might suddenly jump up alive again. But after her mind registered that Azazel had finally been defeated, the warrior felt a little hint of relief that tore away all the constraints that had been holding her together and she sank to her knees, completely spent. She propped herself up on her sword, resting her forehead on the pommel, breathing heavily and wondering how she managed to stay alive.
"Non nobis, Domine," she whispered, "non nobis sed nomini tuo da gloriam."
With that she lost consciousness, sinking to the ground. And she simply lay there alone, the rain still falling, the mud still enveloping her; a relentless warrior who had saved countless people who would never know about it.
With the two demons defeated, the bandits and mercenaries immediately disengaged and disbanded as if they had just been taken out from under a spell. That left only Dorian's forces which had already been cut in half and the Templars and Hospitallers had an easy time with them. Lawrence went after Dorian and dueled with him, but sustained a head wound that let the battered noble escape with his life.
The unrelenting rain forced the warriors to return to Jerusalem immediately for fear of having the knights and supply carts trapped in the mud for only God knew how long. Garrett rode around on his horse, shouting out fierce orders and commands, knowing that the longer they stayed there, the smaller the chance they had of getting out. Staying risked them being left out into the open and defenseless in conditions that would automatically lead to sickness and Mirabel had neither the supplies nor the space to take them in. The realization only made Garrett yell more loudly and everyone else scurry around more quickly. Slowly, but surely, the line of tired and battered, yet victorious warriors began to make their way back.
Back in Jerusalem, Arielle couldn't wait for her friends' arrival. She constantly returned in her thoughts to that strange reaction she had had and the angel's words that Eden was in trouble; Arielle couldn't stop worrying. So when one day, a young boy finally came running from the groves yelling that the warriors were on the road back, Arielle immediately ran out to meet them. When she finally reached the beginning of the line, she couldn't help but notice the powerful image before her- mounted knights, swordsmen, pikemen, archers, and all the others walking in a dirty and exhausted, yet aligned formation, their weapons glinting in the orange rays of the setting sun like gold. When the image burned into her imagination, she shook her head and returned to her search. The farther she made her way through the snaking column of warriors of all sorts of different colors and banners, the more frantic she became. The lump in her throat grew larger along with the knot in her stomach the longer she couldn't find Eden. She was now running, stumbling over the loose rocks on the edge of the narrow road, her mind racing, her heart pounding, her body shaking with a growing fear that Eden wasn't there at all, that she hadn't come back.
She spotted Lawrence, leaning against the side of the cart that he and several other wounded knights were riding in.
"Lawrence! Where's Eden?" Arielle cried out.
"Eden... I..." he stuttered and then turned his head away.
Her heart hammered even more widely in her chest with the thought that he didn't know how to tell her Eden was gone.
The thought crushed her chest, suffocating her. She began to feel dizzy and was finding it hard to breathe, but she stubbornly continued her search, running on the wings of her hope, calling out the guardian's name. She was reaching the end of the line and still no Eden, still no answer, still no news. She reached the last straggling Templar and through sheer momentum, whirled around the corner of small, steep hill that formed a bend in the road there. And there was Eden.
Arielle froze. Eden was slowly walking, leading her horse, her head hanging slightly. Eden looked up, saw the bard, and slowed down to a stop. Eden was almost unrecognizable, covered in several layers of mud, blood, and dirt from head to foot. The bard was so happy to see Eden alive that she didn't see any of it at first; she saw the relentless fighter, the defender of the defenseless,... her Eden. My Eden? Suddenly Arielle wanted to be near her. In a sudden flash, the bard leapt up and raced ahead as fast as she could, the warrior's name on her lips. A few seconds later, the bard practically crashed into the warrior, jumping into her awaiting arms and the guardian caught her with all her strength and let out a large breath.
The bard instinctively wrapped her arms around Eden's neck and her legs around the warrior's waist and Eden drew her arms around Arielle and they just stood like that for a while, unable to do anything else, but quietly let the emotion rush over and envelope them like a sandstorm out of nowhere.
"Thank God you're alive." Arielle whispered with a trembling voice, trying to hold back her tears.
"You're safe." Eden murmured, squeezing the blond tightly.
They both felt the pain, the strain, the yearning, and the fire of the bond that tied them together and that was almost lost not so long ago and only strengthened now by their time apart.
"Don't ever do that again," Arielle reprimanded gently, sliding off of the warrior, looking up at her with her arms still around her, "Don't ever leave me behind again."
"I won't," Eden conceded, resting her forehead against the bard's, "I promise."
Arielle smiled and raised her hand, placing it over Eden's heart. She felt it pounding just like her own. The utter relief Eden felt washed over her, soothing her overstrained senses and body and the guardian went limp for a moment in Arielle's arms.
"Eden!" Arielle cried, holding the warrior up.
Eden shook her head and pulled herself up again. Arielle slid the warrior's arm over her shoulders and her own arm around Eden's waist.
"Come on," Arielle whispered, "Let's go back."
And they continued down the road, the bard supporting the battered warrior. There was no need for words, their closeness was enough to soothe their aching souls. They trudged with the rest through the dust with only the hawk clasp glinting in the sun, making Arielle's heart skip a beat.
-God be with you.
-Not to us, not to us, O Lord, but to your name give glory.
Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews, I'm really loving your support! I was actually thinking of just dropping the story, but all of your feedback made me decide against it (special thanks to Fluval66). If there's something you want more of or explained then just let me know and I'll try to add it in :)