Dutchess of the End

Chapter 25- War, Part 2



I braced for impact, but none came. I waited for death, but none greeted me. As I lay there on the cold stone that I had supposed was my tomb, I felt nothing save the winter air and a smattering of a warm liquid across my face. My forehead, nose, and eyelids were all but drenched in it. The impact of it on my face shocked me into moving. Wiping it off my eyes- it was a deep crimson, blood as I soon realised- I saw a mighty and impressive sight.

 

The Myn that had thought itself my killer stood in place, its broadsword clattering to the ground as another shining metal weapon stuck out of its neck. Its head was all but severed, balancing on the blue blade stained with red for a moment. Then, the beast fell forward, and I scrambled back so as to not be crushed under its weight. There, I saw Penelope Knass standing, holding the sword in both hands. She had her teeth grit, and was panting heavily, staring at me with a wild expression.

 

“Thanks.” I said, standing up. All around us, the battle raged on. Women fled down the entryway into the castle, retreating further and- hopefully- regrouping at the top floors of the castle. Myn chased after them, a couple running through the doorway I had just entered, and in their haste seemed to ignore the two of us completely. I strode over, ignoring the warm feeling on my face, pulling Penelope into a kiss. A searing one, our lips pressed hard together as my hands cupped her cheeks. She groaned in surprise, but melted into it once she realised what was happening.

 

“What was that for?” She asked when I parted a second later.

 

“If we’re gonna die I thought we should have one.” I said. Penelope was beautiful, and in the few short weeks we’d known one another in the Archives before all this, I’d never wanted to admit it to her. But now, I hoped we could be friends.

 

“Yeah.” She nodded her head once before motioning to the Myn’s waist. There, attached to its belt, was a dagger about the same size as the sword Penelope held. For us, it would be a sword indeed. “Can’t believe we hated each other’s guts before.”

 

“Mhm. Let’s go kill some bitches.” I said after picking up the fallen Myn’s sidearm. It was long and heavy, though not unbearably so like the one it had held in its hand when it was slain. I could use it clumsily with both hands. For as untrained as I was, and as unwieldy the weapon, I was reasonably confident I could take out a few with this.

 

“Fuck yeah.” Penelope said. Swords in hand, the two of us shared a glance before racing after the rest of our compatriots. The upper walls had fallen, leaving the inner floors of Castle Telbud left to be defended. And we would defend it, and her, with our lives.

 

--

 

The fighting inside was somehow more manageable. The relatively narrow corridors of the castle halls made it easier to not be overwhelmed by their numbers, especially as inexperienced as we were. All my training had been tossed aside due to a lack of readily available arrows, leaving me an idiot with a glowing sword against trained killing machines.

 

To the dismay of those on the front lines, it seemed that we needed strength in numbers ourselves in order to fell the beasts. Atop the castle, the numbers we had slain were taken two or three to one, some number of us distracting the thing while another dealt the killing blow. In a dark stone hallway where barely two of the Myn were able to stand abreast, we had no such advantage. Our casualties proved greater here, earning the Myn floor after floor, until we had arrived at the ground floor. The first floor had fallen after bitter fighting in and around the King’s Chambers. The rooms there were large, and it had let us resume our tactics like usual. Many women were killed, their sacrifices earning us precious seconds in the Castle and more time to fortify the entryway to the Archives.

 

They were hardly hidden. The various entryways were labelled in Telbian script and hidden by a simple wooden door. Against these foes, such a defence would not do. Many of them had been reinforced with iron plates, sheltering the wood from the fists of Myn.

 

However, they would be hard-pressed to reach the entry points to where our civilian populations lay hiding. For if they breached it, Castle Telbud would surely be lost, and their scourge would run rampant over the whole of the world, just as it had been foretold. I wouldn’t let that happen. 

 

I found myself in the Dining Hall, where the ranks and files we’d been forced to fight in broke, and the Myn swarmed into the room, swinging their swords and beating their chests, screaming out loud, bellowing war cries that could strike fear into the heart of the bravest of us women. There were a good deal of the other that had done as I and picked up weapons from fallen Myn. Most had swords such as mine, though a tall, muscular woman in full head to toe armour held one of their claymores, and proved adept at fighting them one on one, slicing heads clean off them as they attempted to break her. The rest of us in that time resumed the swarming tactics that had worked so well. We were outnumbered, yet we held the advantage in that the Myn were distracted by the vast area, members of their army disappearing down various hallways, climbing up the walls, hanging on the chandeliers. Wretched, horrible things they were. I watched them kill my countrywomen, my sisters, some whose name I knew and some I cared for. They could do this awful thing with no remorse, with cries of victory through ignored pain.

 

They could take lives as easily as a child could take a toy from one younger than she. The thought disgusted me, though I knew I was just as guilty as they were. However, I had righteousness on my side, a duty to right the wrong I had brought upon us all, and I would do it with my life if need be.

 

“To me!” The tall woman called out over the chaos of the battle around her. She stood atop a small hill made up of the pale bodies of slain Myn and the blue of their metals. Many women went to her as commanded. Archers, mostly, taking shots at the Myn who fought all around them. Some arrows found their homes in necks, ending another of their number. Others missed, some clattered off armour, others still found themselves embedded in the stone walls around us. I stood at the base of this little hill- which proved to be about a metre tall by now- and held my sword in front of me, ready to duck and dodge out of the way of whatever mighty blow seemed worthy of attempting to free my soul from my body.

 

I screamed out, slashing upwards as one of the Myn approached. My blade cut its throat, and I was showered with even more blood. My hair had been soaked in it by now, as had my clothing and gloves, even soaking through onto my skin. It felt disgusting, and were I in a calmer situation I would have spared nothing to strip nude and remove myself of the horrid sensation. The beast fell first onto its knees, and then onto its stomach. I stepped to the side to avoid being crushed, and looked on to survey my surroundings, to ready myself for more.

 

Sixteen.

 

Sixteen of them. I had taken sixteen lives this day. Sixteen out of ten thousand was a drop in the bucket, and I was near my breaking point. My movements were becoming sluggish, my legs not responding as quickly as they had hours ago. My breath was ragged, my limbs sore and bruised. I was sure I had a sizable cut in my back, a wound that throbbed with each beat of my racing heart. There was no time to dress the wound, none who could aid me now. I fought through it, though I knew not for how much longer.

 

The hill collapsed, the Myn walking on their own dead to fight us. One by one those standing atop it were slain or escaped. The armoured woman stood alone, surrounded by four of them, one of few women still breathing in the Dining Hall before she, too, were forced to the ground. I heard a gut-wrenching scream as one of the Myn tore an arm clean off her body, tossing it to the side, another of them holding up what was left of her before throwing her hard against the wall. I heard the clinking of metal against metal, and the crunching sound that I now knew to be bone breaking.

 

“Fall back!” I called out, though there were none left to hear me. Cursing, I slipped into a hallway unnoticed, ran a few paces, and collapsed.

 

I would have hit the ground, but I was caught. My eyes were heavy, too heavy to look up to see by who. When I did, I saw pale white skin, matching hair, and sea-blue eyes that twinkled at me with concern.

 

“Alana?” I asked in a weak voice, my body too exhausted to hold itself upright.

 

“That is not my name. Where is your King?” She asked. I heard footsteps in lockstep. Marching. I tried to look around, but all I saw were the vague outlines of women, clean, white, radiant in the dimmed hallway. I shook my head.

 

“I don’t know. Why… are you here?” I asked. 

 

My last thoughts before I fell into unconsciousness were those of confusion, of concern, and of fear. Was Alana in these ranks? Prinna? Who were these women, and why were so many Alihjn women in Castle Telbud?

 

No answers came, only sleep. Only a deep sleep to which death could have hardly lifted a candle.


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