The doctor leaned over Lady, attempting to ease the concern of those gathered around. “I apologize, my Lady, but I had to set your arm back in your shoulder and figured it would be best while you still lie unconscious. I did not know it would be enough to bring you back.”
She panted heavily as her eyes darted around, not quite positive of her surroundings, searching for the smirking face of Mardok. Moments later calm took her, and she relieved everyone as she hoarsely murmured. “It’s quite alright…thank you.”
The doctor nodded and set to finishing his work, cleaning and bandaging Lady. No one was surprised when she called Sir White over to help her stand. “How long have I been unconscious?”
“Nearly the whole night, it is almost dawn.”
Lady winced as the torn muscle from the arrow threatened to give out under her weight. White’s arm was around her waist and helped her limp over to the entrance of the tent. “What happened to the others?”
“Don’t worry, they had much better expeditions than us.” White paused as Lady pulled away from him so that she could stand on her own. She didn’t want to appear broken before her countrymen, they needed the moral boost of witnessing her stand on her own two feet after being carried back unconscious.
The group outside the tent looked up as Lady and White exited, their faces aglow to see Lady was alright. Many of her soldiers had gathered around, and at the forefront were Parune, Mearm, and Darth, ready to bombard Lady with questions.
But something caught Lady’s attention, an emanating of power which called to her. Malice, she thought, fearing that it called to her once more. But no, this was something different, much weaker, though still powerful. Something tangible.
She raised her hand, indicating to Parune, quieting the others. “What is that?” She asked.
Parune produced the tome from under his arm. “Mearm and I found it in the camp. It seemed important, so we took it.”
Had that been the reason for their discovery? Perhaps, but that was not important at this point. Lady took the book and held it within her hands.
“It’s written in a language that we have never seen.” Mearm continued.
Lady arbitrarily looked at a page and frowned at the symbols before handing it back to Parune. “My brother was attempting to decipher ancient texts like this. He was able to create alchemic potions once he figured out their measurement system. I need to get this to him, there might be information we can use in here.” She paused for a moment before glancing to Sir White. “Who is our fastest rider?”
Sir White stepped forward. “Lady, we’ve already sent riders to warn Pylos.”
“Yes, but they do not have this tome.”
Darth looked at Lady inquisitively. “I probably am, but how’s a bunch of paper going to help defend a city,” Darth protested. He didn’t like the idea of abandoning battle here, but it seemed there would be quite the fight at the castle.
“I can’t be sure, but there is power in it, and nobody here can say what kind. Wolf, however, may know what to do with it, and just maybe it can give the city an edge. I need you to take our swiftest horse and ride for Pylos.”
Darth frowned as several of the soldiers nearby who had yet to grow trust in the newcomers were vocal in protect. He grumbled to himself, but was not going to back down and decided to throw it in their face. “You realize they all think you’re an idiot for trusting me, someone who you just met and holds no allegiance to your Dukedom or your nation, with something like this.”
“Yes, I’m aware.”
A thin grin snuck out the edge of Darth’s lips. “That’s settled then. Parune. The book.”
Parune stepped forth, handing the tome over to Darth, who tucked it snuggly under his arm. “Gentlemen,” he nodded to the others before turning back to Lady. “I’ll expect to see you in Pylos once you’ve mopped up the mess here.”
“Of course.”
Darth nodded and turned, off to make the ride to Pylos.
Soldiers parted to make way for him, but many of them doubted this decision. None, though, would speak up against Lady.
“Lady,” White said, turning everyone’s attention back to the matter at hand, “it’s time we devise a strategy for approaching Mardok’s army.”
Lady nodded, “Yes, we-” Screams shattered the bustling camp, cutting Lady’s words short. She turned towards the source and saw figures in the eastern tree line firing upon the encampment. Without thought, her commanding voice rose above the confusion to defend the encampment. Bowmen dashed to cover and began returning volleys to the tree line, while swordsmen with shields held above their heads dashed up the hill under the rain of arrows to where the skeletons resided. Lady wondered what had happened to the guards who had been defending the encampment as she dashed to the tent for her armor.
This is bad, she thought to herself, fumbling with her armor. We’ve been caught in the open. With her armor in place, Lady dawned her helmet and exited her tent. Her forces now clashed with a regiment against the northern edge of camp. For a moment her mind froze in fear. She had never encountered an army before. Small skirmishes yes, but never an entire army.
A fine tremble started in her hands as she saw what seemed like an endless array of creatures, surging from the forest upon the encampment. Her mind betrayed a small thought, but a devastating one to her beliefs.
Malice, if I pray to you, will you answer?
The betrayal of her own fears snapped Lady back to herself, the tremor having disappeared under her revulsion of such a stray thought. Lady dashed for a stray horse and leapt upon it, shouting at nearby soldiers orders to concentrate their forces inward, not to spread out thin. Drawing her sword, Lady rode towards the front of the gate, where hours before she had been carried though on White’s back. She had no time to give words of courage to her soldiers, no confidence other than the bravery of a girl who without hesitation moved to the front lines to cut down those who tried to destroy them.
There is no fairness, no grace, no nobility in war. All fight for survival, no matter the cruelty or how bloody it is. Some are more vicious while other’s methods are more final, all struggle for the single purpose of life.
Lady’s speed on land proved effective as the battle dragged on, her horse having been quickly cut down by many slicing blades. Even she was taken surprise by the monsters’ speed. Never had they encountered undead that could fight so well. As tireless as she was, her sword cut through her opponents with greater strength. But even as one foe fell, another seized the moment to strike.
While slicing downward through the torso of a wretched pig-man, Lady’s side became exposed, long enough for a cultist to pin her with his spear. Her scream turned heads on the battle field and she, through lidded eyes ridden with pain stared down her enemy, one shaking hand, reached up to grab hold of the spear. Above the din of the clamor she heard a voice, someone screaming her name. Her violet eyes locked with the grinning cultist who twisted the spear in the wound, with intent to gut his victim. There was a sickening, heavy noise from behind the cultist, causing the grin to wilt away, the eyes rolling into the back of his head as an axe tore through the back of the head.
Mearm was there, hoarsely calling out her name. Lady doubled over, both hands grasping the spear, trying to pull it out of her side. She was dimly aware as Mearm broke off the barbed tip which had passed clear through her, then helped her withdraw the shaft as she shrieked in agony. But that effort alone proved costly as Lady’s eyes glazed over, her strength gave out and all but collapsed in Mearm’s arms, having to be dragged away from the combat. Mearm did not hesitate as Lady spat out a mouthful of blood, stuttering. “Don’t waste time on me-” Coughing interrupted her as darker things were spilled between her lips, and she struggled to speak again. “Keep fighting…” It mattered not what she said to him at that moment, the wound was too severe, and despite Lady’s hand covering the injury to keep things inside of her body, there was also a trail of blood seeping down her back. Lady was dying.
Lady’s head grew heavier as she barley registered the ground moving at her feet. The pain in her side was protesting every movement and her hand inside of her leather glove had become slippery and warm. She was dimly aware of the sounds of metal clashing around her, screams of horses as they were cut down by superior weapons and the cries of those dying.
Lady managed to spit out a mouthful of blood onto the mud and croak out a devastated “No!” But the hands around her dragged her towards a waiting rider, who would take her to safety. “Wait…my people!” Her head twisted towards the scene of the battle and beheld her soldiers being slaughtered. The battle was turning for the worst as their weapons and armor were useless against the enchanted items. Through fading sight, Lady glimpsed instances of horror and death all around, and befell upon Sir White. His sword was caught in zombie bone from a fallen enemy and struggled to free it. He was caught unaware as a swift cultist bashed the side of his head with a mace, causing White’s body to crumple like a rag doll.
Arms were pulling her up, helping her into the saddle, bringing her back from the slaughter and to those trying to rescue her. With the last bit of strength, she choked out. “I-I can’t leave here while-” Her eyes turned to Mearm’s, pleading him to let her go. In that moment Mearm and Lady come to an understanding and he removed his hands from her.
A startled shout comes from the rider as Lady frantically pulled away, adrenaline taking over the pain as she turned back to the battle. Her free hand drew out the short sword at her side and without hesitation rushed back into the field, cutting down monsters that stood in her path. Several fell to her sword, but the pain in her side slowed her movements and eventually drained away the reserves of her courageous efforts. The front of her body was a streak of red and her sword became heavier with every swing until at one last awkward slash of her sword the blade left her hand and she dropped to her knees. Darkness had crept in; claiming most of her vision, and pure stubbornness alone kept her consciousness.
Death was winning the battle and taking everything important from her. Her soldiers were going to die here, her brother at the castle would not have reinforcements, and her people would die. Struggling against the heaviness of her body, her lips moved, inaudible to the battle around her a word was sighed.
“…Malice.”
Suddenly she could feel the malevolent deity in her mind, the weight of its presence threatening to crush out that last inch of strength she had left to speak.
“I must-” Lady coughed up a bout of gore and rasped “Protect my people…”
She could feel the deity in her mind, uncaring of what she decided, indifferent to the world and uninterested in preserving life and felt anger well up inside of her in retaliation to such apathetic nature. But the rage was enough to feed her will and the deity’s as she knew what she had to do now to finish what Mardok had started.
Lady stood slowly, her words becoming laden with power before they were even uttered as an ancient and forgotten agreement between humanity and deities had formed millennia ago. The chaotic wills of survival stopped as the very essence of the world changed around them, causing monster and human alike to stare in trepidation at the sheer force of energy that rippled from the frail figure of a pale, blood soaked woman with hair that looked as though it were flames from the dawn began to speak. Her words echoed around the battlefield, like thunder paling overhead. Those close enough to her saw her pale blue lips were wetted with blood while her insides hung down to her hip. Most began to make the sign of protection in terror while others knelt in salute.
“I…Lady of the Den…forfeit my life and pledge myself to you, the darkness between the stars, the end of all things and will walk your path of destruction knowing that not even death will stand in my way. And all shall know that I am the Lady of Malice.”
The thousands of eyes were on her as Lady outstretched her hand and uttered a single word.
“Perish.”
Without warning the entire field was alight with red flames as every single monster spontaneously combusted from within. The scene was a cacophony of screams of dying creatures and frightened soldiers who fled from the quickly burning flesh. But Lady seemed uninterested in the horrific display as she walked through the retreating bodies of monsters and soldiers who backed away from her in fear rather than reverence.
Her eyes finally found what they were looking for in the mess of tangled corpses and broken weapons. It was the body of Sir White.
Malice stirred in her head and spoke as it felt its grasp on her waver.
Soon you will be able to save your people, your brother and avenge those lost. Do not set one unimportant man against that.
All of the power imaginable at the cost of one important man. Take the power…or decide that victory asked too high a price.
Lady made her choice.
There was only one thing that Malice knew how to do and in this particular instance, it could not imagine anything beyond that. Now it would learn. Lady finally had the power and the means to save all those around her within her grasp, but only as the capability to harm. She wanted to protect and with Malice she would be invincible.
She knew for the rest of her life she would have to set her will against Malice every waking hour, even though she wanted what it offered her more than anything else.
Malice whispered of victory over Mardock, but it had lost, and it now knew it. It had bound itself to her without discovering that she held a person’s life over a kingdom, and that all the power it could offer her to eliminate any who stood against her, had no power over her.
Over an unimportant man.
Lady knelt down next to Sir White’s body, feeling the terrible power that could only be given through hatred and cruelty frantically pulling away from the nature she was twisting it to be, and touched his forehead. Her bloody glove left a mar of color against the skin, but the contact was enough and she could feel consciousness return to his once lifeless body.
Malice crumpled in her mind, having tried every seduction it could offer against Lady breaking the agreement. Its offers were scorned until it had no more promises and the entity was silent.
Having broken the contract with Malice the power drained away to nothing, leaving Lady mortal again.
Sir White’s eyes opened and for a moment thought he saw Lady smiling above him before exhaustion overcame him. Lady’s own eyes closed and her loss of blood finally caught up to her wounded body, causing her to collapse to the side unmoving.
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