Rosebud

[Christina Bredith]

This is a solo quest.

The city of Laricia in the country of Corone was suffocating in a tense air after scouts reported unusual movement in a nearby band of orcs. This particular band was worrisome because it had shared an uneasy peace with Laricia for many years; the two forces had once been at war, and after their bloody battles with many casualties on both sides, their leaders agreed on a truce. With each passing year, however, the terms of the truce faded further and further into obscurity. Over time, words were exchanged and skirmishes erupted; already unstable relations were shaken as a result. With the tension nearing its peak, everyone knew it was only a matter of time before open war once again reached Laricia’s borders.

Something in the air foretold that today was that day. Most likely it was the scouts: their reports claimed that not just small groups were moving, as was usually the case, but indeed the entire tribe. They had been seen making their way across the island like a large cloud of black locusts, carrying only the possibility of death and destruction in the air with them. Couriers were sent to the nearby capital of Radasanth asking for immediate aid, and they obliged as many soldiers as could be spared. There were still lingering doubts as to whether it would be enough, but everyone knew that it would have to do. Their best defense would be to pray that the reinforcements were not needed at all.

Christina was sitting at the bar of a café with her friend Jane. Both girls were holding cups of piping hot tea while they eyed the other patrons, who were whispering to each other in frightened tones about what would become of them. Despite their mutual trepidation, nobody was really doing anything to help each other’s nerves; the whispered predictions of doom only heightened the paranoia and the anxiety. The city was reaching the point where speaking ill fortune was not the only thing people were doing: for each person that spoke of running away to safety, there was someone who turned around and actually did it.

“Maybe they’ve got the right idea,” Jane thought aloud with a sigh into her tea cup. She was a pretty young woman with short brown hair that fell around her head in a wild but tasteful fashion, and she was dressed in exquisite denim jeans and a white blouse. Her sunglasses rested on the end of her nose as she peered over them at the rest of the crowd, and sometimes Christina could swear Jane was staring at the tension in the air itself – it was certainly thick enough for it. An assortment of bracelets orbited her wrists, while every sort of ring dotted her fingers; none of it was so excessive as to seem gaudy, however.

Christina frowned and shook her head vehemently. “Not a chance,” she retorted in her sweet but adamant voice, setting down her own mug. Older than her friend by a year or two, Christina was a gorgeous blonde wearing a black, semitransparent blouse with a bit of a ruffle at the neck. She sported a knee-length dress of light, silky fabric that matched the shade of her blouse and that was complemented by sturdy, fashionable leather boots.

Jane seemed surprised to hear Christina talk like that; shock is always more apparent when you have a mouth full of tea at the time. As she swallowed, her face was fixed on the woman beside her with her brows furrowed in a look of confusion. “Why? What should they be doing instead?” she inquired. Jane took another sip of tea, but her eyes never left Christina’s face; her friend squirmed under the gaze.

“I, uh… I don’t know,” Christina lied at last. Her hands played with the cup, but she had not touched the liquid inside for some reason.

Jane remained silent for a moment longer. Eventually she shrugged and faced forward again. “Leave the fighting to the soldiers, I say. All we’d do is get underfoot.” Christina had to admit, the logic was sound. All the soldiers in Laricia were already prepped for battle alongside the reinforcements from Radasanth. The remaining helpless civilians would simply be an obstacle, and a target for the ruthless orcs. The soldiers had enough of a task ahead of them just looking out for themselves and each other; adding a gaggle of civilians to the mix would only complicate matters. However, there was one thing Jane didn’t know about Christina: she was not one of those helpless civilians.

Christina immediately got her chance to prove it. From the far end of the café came a woman’s scream, and when Christina and Jane looked in that direction, they saw an orc standing outside the window with a soldier’s neck locked in its powerful grip. The great beast reared back and then launched the soldier forward, crashing him through the window and slamming him up against the bar. Shards of glass were everywhere, as were the screaming patrons of the inn, who were scrambling to exit and get as far away as possible.

Even as they did, the orc climbed through the window and landed flatly on the now-vacant table, crushing it beneath its weight. Its sword was still drawn, and it advanced on Christina and Jane, who were closest to it. Jane was paralyzed with fear, and nothing Christina did could get her to move. It was understandable: neither of them had ever seen an orc before, except in pictures. Having one practically breathing down their necks was a horse of a different colour entirely. Stared down by that almost scaly green face and those lidless yellow eyes, how could one be anything but frozen with fear?

Christina decided, then, that it was time to take the road less traveled. She lunged forward and relieved the fallen soldier of his iron blade before stepping up to face the orc. Jane was left to watch in awe and fear as her friend spun around, fiercely crashing her own sword against the orc’s black-steel blade. Letting out a cry of power, Christina managed to force the brutish creature’s weapon away – the fact that she was actually able to overcome its brute strength surprised even her – and in another unexpected move, she drove her own blade right through its chest, spraying blood all over the floor behind it. A look of shock was stuck on the orc’s face as it slumped; with her foot, Christina shoved the dead beast onto its back and off her commandeered weapon.

Jane tried to speak, but she couldn’t find the words to even begin to ask what had just happened. With that loss, however, came the newfound ability to move once more. She allowed Christina to usher her out of the café and onto the street, where a crowd of people was already moving en masse towards the city’s borders. It seemed Jane was right – they should have left sooner after all. Once she was sure she was all right, Christina nudged Jane into the crowd and told her to follow them. Her friend’s protests of confusion went unheard among the frantic cries of the fleeing populace as Christina ran in the opposite direction, straight towards the danger with a singular purpose in mind.

[Christina Bredith]

Every logical fiber in Christina’s brain told her that what she was doing was stupid. She wasn’t a soldier; she was just a young woman who had given herself some self-training with the sword over the past few years. Fighting against trees in the back yard and straw dummies you keep well hidden in the tool shed is a poor substitute for an actual fight with actual enemies carrying actual weapons. She knew that much. And these orcs weren’t normal opponents, either: they were strong and ruthless – battle-hardened beasts to the highest degree. Human opponents, at least, would lack the raw musculature the orcs possessed.

Why was she doing this, then? Why was she running straight into the fire to help out in the fight? Was it out of some sense of loyalty to her home town? No, Christina didn’t think that was it. She would gladly put herself in harm’s way to protect this city – or more specifically, to protect her friends and family – but something in her confused, frightened heart told her that loyalty to the city wasn’t the entire reason. Something much more powerful was drawing her into the fray, something she would definitely risk her life for time and time again: her parents. They’re fighting here somewhere, Christina thought to herself. I just know it!

Christina’s parents were both high-ranking soldiers in Corone’s army, and both of them were pretty much in charge of Laricia’s defense, which would place them unavoidably somewhere in the fray. Christina enjoyed a pretty privileged life as a result. It was the life of your average well-to-do teenager: hobknobbing with friends at the fanciest parties, going shopping every day simply to pass the time, and having a circle of friends larger than the merchant unions of most countries (including some who were related to merchants in those unions!) You could say she was a bit spoiled: her parents certainly doted on her as their little princess, her father especially. They gave her everything she wanted, except for one thing.

She wanted to join the army, just like them. It wasn’t something Christina was ever able to explain. She knows it started the first time she really recognized her mother in uniform, leading a battalion of troops on a training march. That was her inspiration, but her parents suffocated it before it could ever blossom. Maybe her near-obsession was some twisted side-effect of her privileged life – she had anything and everything she wanted, and so when she was faced with the one thing she couldn’t have, she wanted it all the more, even if it wasn’t the type of thing girls like her would normally want in a million years. Most girls her age were swooning over boys in the military, not wanting to join them! Christina was determined to take what she wanted, though, and so that’s when she began her own personal training with the sword, mixing in exercises she saw her father’s soldiers use with her own ingenuity.

Christina’s train of memories was derailed as her dash screeched to a halt, just as she was about to turn the corner around a large building. As soon as she caught a glimpse of what she’d be running into, the woman switched into reverse and leapt right back around the building. There must have been at least five orcs there, almost huddling and muttering to each other in their grotesque language. Christina didn’t even stop to think what they might have been talking about, since the options were pretty limited; she was just concerned with whether or not they had seen her. She may have been able to take care of one orc, but that was mostly because of the adrenaline produced by the desire to protect Jane. Five was right out of the question. Besides, even if she could take them on, Christina knew she didn’t have that kind of time to waste. She had to find her parents! They were brilliant soldiers but she knew they would need all the help they could get against odds like these.

Taking a quick look around, the woman decided on another path. She was trying to make her way through the more populated areas of town – those would be the ones the soldiers would defend most heavily, and while they would also be the biggest war zones, there would be a much better chance of finding a soldier who knew her parents’ whereabouts. Her initial plan had been to go through the commercial district. That was the heart of Laricia’s trade industry, and it was quite close to the café where she had been sitting when the orcs attacked. The group of five forced her to rethink that plan, though. I can still get there, but I’ll need to take a detour. She ran around to the back of the building she had been about to pass when she saw the orcs, and snuck into the alley right between it and the next building over. Christina didn’t know much about these back alleys, but she did know the general direction of the commercial district, and so she could use them to her advantage just the same.

But just as she was about to reach the end of the alley and exit onto the next street, Christina’s eyes were assaulted by another group of orcs. She immediately turned and ran back the way she had come, knowing at least that that street was safe for now. Damn it! How did they get so far into the city already? The thought only made her worry more about her parents. The first line of defense would obviously have been the borders of the city, so those must have fallen quite quickly. All Christina could do was hope her parents were defending some other major location instead. In the meanwhile, she had to get to the commercial district, but every path she tried to take was blocked off by orcs! How am I supposed to get there?

As she emerged from the alley at the same spot where she had entered, the answer assaulted Christina’s senses. Both sight and smell became aware of the sewer system below the city, most prevalent at the manhole near which she was standing. The woman’s face immediately twisted into a grimace at the thought. “I guess there’s no other choice.” Holding her breath at the smell, Christina lowered herself to her knees and lifted the manhole cover off as quietly as she could, using the stolen sword as a lever to pry it open. As soon as it was off, she clambered down the slippery ladder into the darkness. She didn’t even take the time to replace the steel cover; instead the woman opted to hop straight to the slimy cement sidewalk that ran alongside the putrescent river and begin to head in the rough direction of the commercial district.

“Ugh… and I loved these boots, too.”

[Christina Bredith]

The trip through the sewers was long and arduous, just as Christina expected, but it was a necessary evil. On the bright side, her senses were slowly growing less aware of the pungent stench that permeated through the air the longer she was exposed to it. There was no doubt that she wouldn’t come out of here smelling like a rose vine, but a good shower and, if necessary, a healthy dose of perfume would fix that. Besides, this was a battle ground, not a ball room. The only kind of tango she planned to do involved two swords and one dancer dropping dead afterwards.

Christina was forced to move much more slowly than she would have liked; the sewers were obviously not well maintained, and so the walkway was grimy to the point that traction was barely existent at all. Moving at anything more than a brisk walk would almost certainly result in slipping and falling, likely into the mucky stream that ran alongside. It was bad enough that Christina was already going to smell like sewer grime; she was determined not to be covered in it as well.

If anyone else had been around, this certainly would have been quite the sight: Christina was a vision of loveliness trudging through the bowels of the city. Her black designer boots sported a thin coating of green-grey slime on their bottoms, but otherwise she looked as much like an angel in these dark tunnels as a real angel would. If anything, though, Christina Bredith was an angel of death: the sword that hung at her waist and the gleam of determination in her eye assured that she was on no mission of mercy.

Christina had no real sense of time while she wandered as quickly as she could through the dank sewers, so it could have been entire hours or merely minutes that she had been traveling. At some point during the journey, however, she saw a light shining from above, and she thought to herself that it did not come a moment too soon. This is as good a time as any to check my bearings, I suppose. To be honest, she had no real idea how far she had traveled, so she might have been already past the commercial district for all she knew. This was certainly far removed from her normal means of travel.

After clambering up the greasy ladder with a grimace, Christina poked her head out of what was obviously another open manhole in the street through which the sarcastically-cheerful sun was shining. Her head came up slowly at first, just to ensure that she wouldn’t suddenly be nabbed by an orc in waiting. Thankfully, no such surprise awaited her on the surface. In fact, the street was mostly empty. I’m not quite there yet, though, she realized as she gathered her bearings. The woman turned her head towards a set of buildings in the direction she had previously been moving. It should be the next street over. It was difficult to grasp and pinpoint her location in the city after traveling through the sewers like that and popping up through a manhole; familiar places have a tendency to look entirely different when you view them from another angle.

Just then, a man’s scream cut through the muggy silence. Normally Christina would not have been surprised to hear it – their city was under attack, after all. But this one came from beneath her, from the sewers! The warrior immediately shot into serve-and-protect mode: she gripped the sides of the ladder rather than the rungs, and allowed herself to slide down quickly, a task made easier by the thick layer of grime on the metal’s surface. As soon as her feet touched solid ground again, Christina’s right hand reached across her body to release her iron sword from its sheath, and she ran – ignoring the risk of the slippery walkway – towards the source of the scream.

It wasn’t an easy trip, but Christina was determined to make it. Her brain told her that she was rushing into obvious danger. Why else would anyone be screaming except if they were being attacked? And that in turn provided one more revelation: obviously orcs had gotten into the sewers too. The sewer system was pretty linear, and the footing was terrible, at least for humans. If she happened to run into any orcs here, she’d be done for. But Christina’s heart told her brain to sit back and shut up, because she had to help whoever was in trouble. She was already on her way to help her parents in whatever way she could; wouldn’t it be hypocritical to just ignore anyone else who happened to be in trouble along the way?

Being back in the darkness after having examined the bright world above, Christina was worried that she would run right into the back of one of the offending orcs before she actually saw it, but thankfully her eyes began to readjust to the black tunnels before that happened. Before long she could once again see shadows and shapes, which at this point only consisted of the walls, floor, and the ever-flowing river of filth beside her. And then, another shape came into view. It was a person, laid out on the floor with his arms and legs spread out as though he had been knocked flat on his back. There was nobody around the fallen figure, though: no orcs, no other humans, nobody at all. Christina slowed her pace just a little bit now, primarily to avoid sliding right past the body when she really wanted to stop and examine it.

Thankfully, as she approached, Christina realized that whoever it was was certainly not dead. It was a man about her age, and he was staring up at the ceiling, looking quite conscious although more than a little dazed. It was difficult to get an idea of what he looked like, though, until she got closer. When she did, the woman saw that his eyes locked right onto her and followed her movements – that much, at least, was undeniable proof that he was all right. As Christina leaned down to examine him more closely, she let out a gasp. “Jeremy?”

[Christina Bredith]

Brushing some of his messy brown hair away from his face, Christina was certain that Jeremy Stone was the person she was gazing down at. He had been her boyfriend at one time, and he joined the Coronian army many years ago with all his friends, as was custom for boys his age. He was certainly the last person she expected to see down here, although it was a comfort to know that he was all right, considering all the chaos on the surface.

In response to her voice, Jeremy squinted and leaned his head forward. It was obvious that he was still in a daze and was having trouble doing so much as thinking. After a couple of blinks, his bright, brown eyes widened as he realized just who he was looking at. A weak smile came to the man’s face as he said, in a strained voice, “Christina…? What are you doing here?”

The woman laughed a little, realizing that it was certainly a good question. Here she was, standing over his fallen body and holding a soldier’s iron sword in her hand. The scene was nothing if not unusual. Christina just shook her head, disturbing her pretty golden locks. “Never mind that,” she dodged. None of her friends knew about her self-taught abilities with the sword. She had never revealed them because she felt they would not be understood; women were, almost without exception, forbidden from joining the army in Laricia. Her mother was the “almost”. “What happened to you? Are you all right?”

Apparently gaining a sudden awareness that he was still flat on his back, Jeremy struggled to sit up, propping himself up with his arms. He looked around and blinked a few more times in what must have been an attempt to clear the fog from his head. “I, uh… I slipped and hit my head,” he admitted with an embarrassed grin. Christina laughed, but not unkindly. It was laughter of relief if anything.

“Still as clumsy as ever,” the woman taunted in good humour. “I’m glad that’s all it was, though. I thought orcs had gotten you or something.”

Jeremy chuckled and shook his head. “Not a chance. They can’t fit down those manholes. That’s why I came down here in the first place; it’s a safer way to travel.” Christina realized that her train of thought was not dissimilar from his. She hadn’t realized that orcs couldn’t fit down the manholes, though; the only thought that had been going through her mind was that there would be fewer orcs down here than on the surface, if any at all. Jeremy’s revelation put her nerves at much-needed ease.

“I figured as much too,” she admitted. Christina began to rise, and as she did, she reached out for Jeremy’s hand and helped him to his feet. The woman had to admit, he was still quite the looker. His brown hair was unkempt; not messy, but rather what you would call “roguish.” She had always said those brown eyes were the quickest way to a woman’s heart, too. Throw in the red-and-gold army uniform and she was infatuated all over again. There was no hiding the slight smile on her pretty red lips as she admired him. He didn’t seem to notice, because he was busy admiring her, too; or perhaps it was more a look of surprise. The sight of Christina dressed in top-of-the-line clothing was nothing unusual, but gripping that iron sword in her hands, he couldn’t tell whether to be shocked or smitten.

“What are you doing with that thing?” the man inquired as he gestured towards her sword with his right hand. “You’re going to hurt yourself if you’re not careful.”

Christina quirked a brow and laughed a little. She just shook her head again. “Trust me, I’ll be careful. And where’s yours, soldier-boy?” The woman grinned as she spoke, and jerked her head in the direction of Jeremy’s sword, which was lying against a wall on the ground. Obviously he had lost his grip on it when he slipped. The man laughed in embarrassment and leaned down to pick up the weapon. Once he had done that, Christina asked, “Where were you headed down here?”

“The commercial district,” Jeremy responded immediately. “I was supposed to be stationed there when the battle began, but I was cut off by all the orcs on the surface so I came down here.” His free left hand pointed out behind Christina, and when she turned she could just barely make out a ladder on the wall, illuminated by thin beams of sunlight that filtered through a manhole cover above. “I was nearly there when I slipped.”

Christina’s face brightened as she realized what he meant: they were practically right underneath the commercial district right now! That of course meant that they would be stepping onto the street in the midst of chaos and bloodshed, but for some reason that didn’t affect her. It’s possible that she was just too naïve to really understand what it would be like up on the surface. Her optimistic heart was more concerned with finally finding out where her parents were stationed. Speaking of which, Christina turned back to Jeremy and inquired, “Do you happen to know where my parents are?”

Jeremy stared at her blankly. His eyes fell to her sword and then back up at her silver eyes, and he looked apprehensive. “Your parents…? I’m afraid I don’t, actually. But surely you’re not planning to—Christina!” His sentence was cut off because Christina had turned suddenly and she began to run towards the manhole.

“Come on, slowpoke!” she called back in an almost playful voice. “We’ve got a war to win!”

Jeremy stood in a daze at her comment. “We…?” he mumbled to himself, her meaning slipping just over his head. The man’s eyes widened as he realized just what she was talking about, though, and he shook his head vehemently. “Christina!” It was too late to stop her, though; the woman had already reached the top of the ladder and was beginning to push the manhole cover aside in order to escape from the dank sewers. Jeremy let out a heavy sigh and ran after her. The worry painted on his face showed that he knew there was no way this could end well.

[Christina Bredith]

Christina was a woman on a mission, and nothing was about to stop her. She reached the top of the ladder in an instant, and by the time Jeremy even reached the bottom of it, she was already pushing at the cover and trying to lift it up. Shadows flickered overhead, cutting off the thin rays of sunlight that shone through, and both warriors knew that it means there were people passing overhead. Given what district they were about to step into, there was little doubt as to what exactly that meant: a battle. Because of this, Christina had a tough time lifting the manhole cover, which gave Jeremy his chance to protest. As he climbed the ladder, he reached out to grab her leg, which gave her pause.

“Christina, you can’t really be thinking of going up there!” he exclaimed, looking up at her. “It’s a warzone!”

The woman’s face darkened slightly and she nodded her head. “I know it is,” she admitted. “And it’s scary. But I can’t stand by and do nothing.” The resolve in her voice seemed totally out of place. Jeremy was used to her being so sweet and, dare I say it, flaky at times. Some of that attitude was still present in her voice, but there was some sort of fiery determination there that he had never seen before. It would be a stretch to say she was an entirely new woman to him, but there was certainly something different about her.

Passing through his stunned silence, Jeremy shook his head again. “B-but you’ll get trampled up there! Just because you pick up a sword” – he gestured vaguely at the weapon now hanging at her waist – “doesn’t mean you’ll be able to fight! Those orcs won’t show any mercy because you’re a civilian!”

Christina just smiled and shook her head. She could obviously understand his concern. Soldiers in the army went through years of sword training; Christina knew that. In fact, they never stopped practicing and learning. Even her mother and father continued to practice in spars against each other right up to that very day. But Christina knew one thing that Jeremy didn’t: she had been training just as long as he had. They had broken up when he went to join the army because his parents didn’t approve of him dating anybody at the time; they said the distraction would get him killed. Christina’s parents unfortunately shared the sentiment. The girl’s solution, then, was simple: she wanted to join the army too.

Now she remembered that that was where it all started. Her heart had been in the right place but her brain was probably somewhere else. Perhaps that was why her parents didn’t let her join. They may have seen it as a desperate attempt to stay with Jeremy; her devotion was to him, not to the uniform. That would have gotten her killed. It was true, for a little while. Christina began to go to work with her father and mother just to watch them train their soldiers, because Jeremy was in their direct regiment. Lovesick admiration for Jeremy was gradually replaced by awe, however, particularly towards her mother, who led her recruits with such grace and poise that Christina could hardly believe she was the same woman. That was when Christina began training her hardest for reasons that were entirely her own.

Her training may have been homegrown, but she knew that Jeremy was wrong. Maybe she wasn’t the same as an actual soldier, but she could fight. A warm smile tugged at her lips as she looked back down at him. Her golden hair shimmered in what little sunlight broke through the suffocating darkness. “Have a little faith, Jeremy.” Her voice was sparkling, but it still possessed that measure of determination. Even against his better judgment, he found himself wondering whether she really could take care of herself after all.

Christina didn’t give him another moment to protest, however. She heaved once more against the manhole cover, and with one forceful push, managed to lift it up and slide it aside. Jeremy let go of her leg as she continued her climb, because it became obvious she would sooner drag him up with her than let him drag her back down. There was nothing he could do but climb up after her and step onto the street.

The scene was exactly as Jeremy knew it would be, but it was unlike anything Christina had ever even imagined before. She clambered to her knees and looked around in a daze similar to Jeremy’s previous one. Orcs were absolutely everywhere, clashing swords with what appeared to be an equal number of soldiers, all dressed in armor much like Jeremy’s. Corpses of man and orc alike littered the ground, and blood stained the cement streets and cobblestone pathways. Christina could hardly hear her own thoughts above the dull roar of the battle. Her only good fortune was that nobody had noticed her or Jeremy in all the commotion.

As Jeremy climbed out after her, he took forceful hold of Christina’s arm to catch her attention. She looked at him with startled eyes. Still, she was glad to be looking into his eyes instead of at the chaos around them, and she smiled weakly. “I don’t know what you plan to do up here,” Jeremy warned, “but you’ve gotta keep your wits about you. Don’t give me a reason to worry about you… please?” He hugged her quickly and darted off, leaving her in a bit of a daze. All she could really do was nod her head in compliance and stare at the empty space where he had been standing a second ago.

The entire exchange only lasted a few seconds, but to Christina it seemed to last longer. Damn it, Jeremy, she thought to herself as he ran off. Your parents were right. The woman shook her head quickly to clear herself of the infatuated haze and drew her blade. Now wasn’t the time for lovesickness; this was a war zone, and she had to fight!

[Christina Bredith]

Amidst the chaos of the battle, there was only one refuge for the Larician soldiers. They had set up a makeshift barricade further down the street, using toppled-over carriages and debris and whatever other suitable materials they could find. It wasn’t much, but it was heavily defended, and the orcs couldn’t get anywhere near it. Christina knew she had to make her way in that direction, because that was the only place where the battle wasn’t raging on. She would be able to ask some of the soldiers behind the barricade where her parents were.

Getting there, she immediately knew, would not be easy at all. There may as well have been a thousand orcs between her and the shelter, and although the vast majority of them were occupied with soldiers, there were still some who were meandering about looking for prey. Christina was beginning to wonder just how capable she was of fighting up here. How could you expect anything less? As skilled as she may have been with a sword, it was all nothing compared to the fact that she had never been on a real battlefield before. But wait… had most of these soldiers ever been on a battlefield before? Probably not, she realized. Many of them were in a situation just like hers, with the only difference being that they had formal training rather than self-training.

With that realization in mind, Christina found a new resolve within her. There was no reason to be overly frightened. If these other soldiers could step onto the battlefield for the first time and give it their all, then by god, so could Christina! No orcs would stand in her way! She tightened her grip on the sword’s hilt and charged forward, letting out a battle cry as she leapt into the fray.

If the sight of Christina walking through the sewers was strange, then this must have been a pure hallucination. She moved with as much grace as would be expected from any soldier, only there was a marked difference in her movements compared to the rest of Laricia’s defense force. Obviously a battle is never structured, but even so, an onlooker could tell that there was a definite rhythm to the way the Larician soldiers fought. Christina, then, was dancing to the beat of a different drum. Her movements flowed like water, rather than being more static like most soldiers were. It was like there was an element of formal dancing woven into her fighting – she could at least thank her parents and their insistence on dancing lessons for that! It made her unpredictable and, frankly, an anomaly to the orcs, who were used to combat, but not this kind of combat.

It was fortunate that Christina could move like that, because she soon realized that she was outclassed by the orcs in terms of strength. Whenever she clashed swords with one, there was a loud clang, and the next thing she felt was her arm practically going numb. Even when she gripped her sword with both hands and used them together, she was still no match for their brute strength. It wasn’t long before Christina began to put more of an emphasis on dodging their attacks rather than blocking them; she wouldn’t have lasted more than a few minutes otherwise before the fatigue overwhelmed her.

And so, the fight began to focus on Christina’s size rather than her strength. The orcs had a hard time matching her speed and hitting her petite form. One opponent lashed out with a mighty cleave from above, and she sidestepped it and left the orc dazed as its weapon slammed hard against the ground. That was her opportunity: one quick strike to the neck ended the mongrel’s life. Another orc tried to take her head off with its battleaxe, but Christina found that ducking underneath the slow attack was all too easy, and it allowed her to slice and dice its kneecaps, causing it to tumble to the floor, certainly not dead, but incapacitated.

In this way, Christina slowly but surely made her way across the battlefield towards the barricade. The closer she got, the more danger she found herself in: not only were the orcs more concentrated here because they were trying their hardest to break the barrier, but soldiers within were also firing a constant stream of arrows whenever they could. They did not fire haphazardly, but there was always the risk of stepping into the path of an arrow and getting caught in friendly fire. Christina, being completely unarmoured, was greatly at risk for that. She couldn’t let it deter her, though. She absolutely needed to get a briefing of the battle, and obviously she couldn’t ask any of the soldiers that was engaged in combat. She had to get behind that barricade!

Her opening came when an orc just ahead of her suddenly toppled over to the ground, dead. It was easily seen that a soldier had slashed hard into the back of its knee, and then twisted the blade and dragged it up through the creature’s lower torso; it was a bloody sight. But behind that hulking mass, Christina could see empty space! It was the dead zone between the chaos of the battle and the order of the sanctuary. She darted forward as quickly as she could, hoisted herself over the fallen orc’s body, and slid around the barricade as quickly as she could. When Christina finally skidded to a halt, her breaths were heavy and ragged; she even closed her eyes as if that would somehow conserve more energy.

Despite the utterly shocked looks she received from the soldiers behind the barricade, Christina merely smiled and leaned her head back against it. She had made it at last!

[Christina Bredith]

Christina was the last thing the Larician soldiers expected to see today, especially here of all places.

The girl was still dressed in her breezy black top and skirt, but both were stained with blood and torn in places, revealing various wounds beneath, some minor and some more serious. Her black leather boots did not look anywhere near suitable to be labeled as “army issue,” and yet they too were splattered with blood, and there was even a layer of green slime on the bottom that had been smudged and wiped during her mad dash towards this barricade. To further prove that she was no mere civilian, a bloodstained sword was gripped, loosely at this point, in her right hand. She was still a tall drink of water in the other soldiers’ eyes, although none of them dared to show it because each of them knew exactly who she was.

“C—Commanders Bredith!” a nervous-sounding soldier exclaimed, turning his head slightly towards a table near the back of the barricade. Glancing in that direction, Christina could see a bunch of people gathered around in a close huddle, examining what must have been a map of the city. Some of them were pointing excitedly at it and speaking in animated tones to one another. Her face really lit up, though, when she saw that one of them was a woman.

“Mom! Dad!” she exclaimed, rising to her feet as quickly as she could. Her entire body ached from the fighting now that she had given it time to actually recognize the pain, but she was determined to go greet them. She had come this far, and a little muscle pain wouldn’t stop her now. Two elegantly-clad soldiers stepped away from the table, one coming around from the left and the other from the right. Both of them bore astonished faces.

“Christina!” her father shouted. Christina couldn’t tell if it was out of anger, surprise, joy, or a mixture. He was a tall, handsome man with neatly-trimmed brown hair and commanding brown eyes. The woman never questioned how her mother had fallen for Jordan Bredith; even she had to admit that he was a dashing gentleman, and age merely added a touch of distinction to his fine features.

Her mother stepped up to the plate next, adding in an exclamation of her own. “What are you doing here?” Janine Bredith was every bit as stunning as Christina was: golden blonde hair billowed around her like a halo, and her blue eyes appeared as though they could see right through you – everyone had always said she was an exceedingly good judge of character. Right now, though, those eyes flared with a combination of anger and shock.

“I came here to help!” Christina answered with a cheerful smile on her face.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Her father was not amused. He took another step forward and towered over her. She was used to him being like this; this was how her father always was when he was angry. He was the lord of his dominion, and when he got like this, she knew he was going to enforce that right. Christina refused to let herself be intimidated now, however.

“Christina, really,” her mother implored in a more reasonable tone, “you can’t expect to fight out there.” She still appeared angry, but concern was probably a more apt descriptor for the expression on her face.

Christina shook her head adamantly and held out her sword with a steady hand. “I got this far, didn’t I?” Both her parents could clearly see the bloodstains glimmering like liquid rubies in the sunlight. Those would certainly not have gotten there unless the blade had been used, and with some degree of skill at that. “I came half-way across the city to find you, and I’ll—”

“I said no!” Jordan flared with authority that made even Christina stagger. It felt as though those words wounded her more than any orc blade could possibly have done. I said no, princess, and no means no. Those patronizing words… those were her father’s only response every time she asked if she could join the army. And even now, when she had proven that she was just as good as any soldier out there, they still denied her? Christina could see sympathy in her mother’s eyes, but she knew it wasn’t enough to change her father’s mind. Taking in a sharp breath and huffing indignantly, Christina moved over to the barricade wall. Stepping up onto a makeshift ledge, the woman simply watched the goings on of the fight; she found that she just could not disobey her father’s orders, even now.

Jordan and Janine looked at each other once and then turned toward the table. Before they could take so much as one step, however, they heard a familiar cry behind them. “Jeremy!!” Christina had seen the man fighting at the forefront, and as she watched, she saw him surrounded by three orcs who he was fighting off bravely but was no real match for all at once. That sight filled her with the strength to disobey even her father’s concrete law: she hoisted herself up onto the top of the barrier and climbed over it, dashing as quickly as she could across the dead zone towards Jeremy.

“Christina, stop!” her parents demanded in unison. It was too late. Christina was out of sight again, and she was driven by lovesickness – or perhaps real love, this time. There was no chance of her heeding their words of warning.

[Christina Bredith]

Jeremy looked weak. He had been fighting his hardest against the three mighty orcs surrounding him, but it was obvious that he would not last much longer against all of them. Their combined might was just too great for him to handle alone, and yet everyone else was already tangled up in battles of their own. There was no way any of them could possibly come to his aid, and he knew it. He was nearing his end, then. Each strike seemed to come quicker, and each sent larger and larger shivers of pain through his body. At the very least, he was determined to put up a fight until the end.

Christina was running as furiously as she could, determined not to let this be the end. Her blade was already in hand as she dashed across the dead zone. It was an easy run, due to the lack of enemies in that territory, but it was also a long one. Her body became acutely aware of each passing moment, knowing that time was marching steadily towards Jeremy’s death. She had to get there quickly. Faster, she urged herself. With each step she pushed her muscles harder and harder, certain that she could get there in time if she just moved a little faster!

But it was not to be. Even as Christina was only twenty or thirty feet away, she saw Jeremy’s widen, and his face went blank. One of the orcs, this one standing behind him, bore a hideous, satisfied grin. Their poor victim fell to his knees, armor clattering against the bloody ground, and he could see Christina as she approached. In that moment, time no longer marched for Christina. She let out a scream, but all sound had vanished from her world. Tears flowed freely from her eyes, but she couldn’t even remember when they had started forming. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart skipped a beat – maybe two, or maybe ten for all she knew. The woman couldn’t believe what she was seeing. And worst of all, through her teary eyes, she could see Jeremy smile feebly as he looked at her, before collapsing face-first onto the cement.

When time finally resumed and sound once again began to spring forth from the world around her, Christina’s look of sadness was replaced by one of rage, pure and unadulterated. She gripped her blade in both hands and crossed the remaining distance in mere seconds with powerful leaps that carried her high into the air. With her first descent, she brought her blade down onto the head of one of the retreating orcs, splitting its skull neatly and showering her blade in blood. Christina refused to lose momentum, and quickly withdrew her weapon in order to spin and slash across the stomach of the second orc, whose armor and flesh alike were rent as though they were nothing. The final orc suffered a sword thrust directly through its unarmoured face. None of them had any idea what hit them. Christina would have been no match for them normally… but Hell hath no fury like a woman’s scorn.

With the monsters thus defeated, Christina seemed to snap out of whatever bloodlusting trance she had come under. She dropped her blade at her feet, and immediately fell to her knees beside Jeremy. Even as the woman lifted and turned his body and cradled his head in her arms, she could tell her was dead. The expression on his face was so peaceful, almost like he was glad to be free from the weariness of battle. It did little to calm the sorrowful tempest within Christina, though. Tears streamed from her eyes, not just for Jeremy, but for herself. They fell for the life that was suddenly becoming clearer to her now – for decisions made that seemed so arbitrary, and yet now seemed so logical.

Christina was only broken away from her reverie by the clanging of metal overhead. She snapped back to attention and looked up to see that an orc had been about to cleave her in half from above with a mighty battle axe, but the attack had been parried by a pair of swords – swords that could only belong to one person. Looking to her right, Christina saw her mother standing over her. She had blocked the attack with all her strength and was looking down at Christina with imploring eyes.

“Run, Christina!” It wasn’t a demand anymore as much as a plea. Christina was shocked to see that there were tears in her mother’s eyes, as well – she was a woman Christina had thought was free from fear. She had never even shown the slightest signs of it once in her entire career, and yet now she looked positively frightened. Christina scrambled away, passing only one last mournful glance at Jeremy before climbing to her feet. The woman had grabbed Jeremy’s sword without even realizing it. She stumbled backwards, still looking at her mother, who was now focusing back on the orc with determined, but tearful eyes. “Please…” The words came as a whisper, but Christina could hear them better than anything else over the roar of the battle. She was frightened, too. So much had happened, and she couldn’t cope with it. She couldn’t fight… what was she thinking to try it in the first place? And now Jeremy… and her mother was…

Christina stumbled further back, until she eventually found herself pressed up against the wall of a building with nowhere left to go. She watched her father charge in just as her mother forced the orc back with a powerful push, and his blade tore through the creature’s stomach with such ease that she would have sworn the orc was made of paper. None of it had any impact anymore. Her mother’s words kept echoing through her head, while Jeremy’s death played over and over in front of her eyes. Run, Christina! Please… Christina shook her head quickly, trying desperately to free herself from the pain, but it wouldn’t go away. All she could do was exactly that which her mother had asked – she turned and ran, around the barricade and past it, towards the opposite border of the city where freedom lay.

[Christina Bredith]

The sounds of the battle dimmed the further she got away, but none of it did anything to comfort Christina. The growing silence only allowed her mind more freedom to ponder what had just happened, to the point where it caused her physical pain just to think at all. Through that pain came the realization that her parents were really much wiser than she had ever let herself believe before. She had thought that their silly imposition about her joining the army was something to do with her sex, or her personality. Now, however, Christina realized that it stemmed from a desire to protect her from things like this.

She had always had a pretty naïve idea of what battle would be like before this war assaulted Laricia. Of course, most of the soldiers were probably in that same position. Even live combat training would be a poor substitute for the ravages of war. In her case, though, she didn’t even have that. She had a sheltered upbringing, and her sword training was no different. She was an excellent swordsman, but with no ability to put the concept of “battle” into perspective. That made her weak despite her abilities.

Christina moved slowly once she reached the border of the city, and she immediately headed for her family’s home in the country. Her own apartment was in Laricia; it wouldn’t be safe anymore. It was a long walk, made even longer by the fact that she was hardly paying attention to where she was going, and moving at a snail’s pace. The sun had already set and the moon was high in the sky by the time she reached the old mill halfway between the city and the house where she used to play as a child. Everything was so… carefree then. That’s all they wanted for me. Christina couldn’t help harbouring a mixture of appreciation and resentment towards her parents. They were only looking out for her, but at the same time they were sheltering her from the harsh realities of the world! If it was something that she would have to be exposed to sooner or later, then wouldn’t it have been best to expose her to it sooner?

The woman didn’t know. She honestly couldn’t tell what her parents had been thinking. At some point during the walk back, she stopped trying. Things happened the way they did for a certain reason, and going against her parents’ orders ended in tragedy. That didn’t help clear anything up, though. What was she going to do now? Christina had foolishly made the way of the sword her way of life over the past several years. Somehow she thought she couldn’t live without it. But if it’s what her parents truly wanted… then she figured she would give it a try.

Morning had arrived by the time she returned to the house. It certainly was a sight for sore eyes: a lovely, large white house with two floors and many acres of land surrounding it. The courtyard itself was beautiful, decorated with a wide assortment of flowers and plants, both native and exotic. Her mother was something of a gardener in her spare time, and often took it upon herself to do her work by hand alongside the gardening staff. None of the staff was there today, though. Christina figured they had all headed for the hills as well when the orcs came. None of them would be working. In light of that, the house looked truly empty and intimidating. In the past, Christina could always look forward to someone greeting her when she walked in the door, even if it was just her childhood nanny. Now there would be no one.

Or so she thought. As she passed through the front gates and began to move down the entryway, she noticed an exquisite black carriage drawn by two midnight-black horses. Nobody was presently sitting in it, though, so she had no idea to whom the carriage belonged. When she finally reached the door of the house, her question was answered. Someone was indeed here to greet her, and it was perhaps the last person on the face of the earth she expected to see. A balding, but dignified man dressed in a handsome black suit was standing in the foyer of the house, looking around absently as if to pass the time. As soon as he heard the sound of her black heeled boots against the marble floor, the man immediately turned and fixed his grey eyes upon her. A sympathetic smile came to his lips, but Christina was more shocked than happy to see him.

“U—Uncle?” she exclaimed, stepping forward. Her Uncle Henry was not a man with whom she was exceedingly familiar, but he did stop by every now and then for a visit. He was a wealthy trader from Radasanth who lived out in the country as well, only his home was much closer to Radasanth than it was to Laricia, and it was several hours away even by carriage. She had not been expecting him to visit now, especially with all the troubles the orcs had been causing.

Henry nodded his head slowly and stepped forward, grabbing her shoulders comfortingly, but hesitant to pull her into a hug because of the dried blood on her clothing. He was a sterling example of sympathy, however. Christina had to wonder exactly why he was acting this way. He had always been a nice man, although not overly friendly or affectionate, and yet now he was acting like… like someone had died. She fixed a welcoming glance upon him, but there was a careful measure of suspicion in her eyes. Henry picked up on it, and opened his mouth hesitantly.

“I am… sorry about your parents, child.”

[Christina Bredith]

The words her uncle was speaking hit Christina like a freight train. The pain was so lightning-fast that she couldn’t even comprehend it immediately. In fact, for a staggering few moments, her brain could not even put together what he meant. The meaning was quite clear, especially in light of the grave situation, but due to the sudden impact of that meaning, it was completely lost on the stunned woman. She stared blankly at Henry for a long while, and he only returned the gaze with a sympathetic one of his own. At length, he pulled her into a proper hug, seeming to no longer care about the blood on her clothes or the tears in her eyes. Christina didn’t care about those things, either. Or anything else, for that matter.

There was silence for many minutes before Henry finally pulled away slowly. He looked down at his niece and smiled a little. “This must be terribly difficult for you, Christina,” he told her in a quiet voice. That calm, caring tone snapped her out of her reverie better than any amount of shouting would have. Christina had never known him to be so kind and gentle, but she was glad for the change of heart now. “There is nothing left for you here. Come with me to my home near Radasanth. I will look after you.”

The suggestion surprised Christina, and it showed in her expression. It seemed outrageous at first, but only to the part of her mind that refused to come to terms with what had happened. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that Henry was right. Her parents were… and Laricia would be overrun by now. There really was nothing left for her here. This was a big, empty house, and never before had it seemed so cold and unwelcoming. How would she survive on her own? Laricia was the only city nearby. The next closest was Radasanth, and that was many miles away. Living here any longer would be impossible. And her uncle had extended such a gracious offer; how could she refuse? Eventually, the woman nodded her head slowly, and forced a weak smile.

“Yes, uncle,” she said timidly. “But I need… just a little time. To say my goodbyes.” Christina was in dire need of a change of clothing, as well, but that was the furthest thing from her mind at that instant. With such overwhelming revelations bombarding her, the poor state of her attire was lost in the commotion. Henry merely nodded his head understandingly.

“Of course.” The gentleman turned around, and snapped his fingers once. A pair of footmen dressed in blue waistcoats with a white trim approached from a corner of the room. They immediately headed outside and down the large steps towards the carriage. “I will be in my carriage. Take as long as you need, Christina.” And with that, he too exited the large house. One footman was already sitting in the driver’s seat, while the other opened the door for Henry. Christina saw her uncle disappear into the black coach just before the other footman joined the first. She turned slowly and began to head up the central stairway to the second floor.

Her first destination, for some reason, was her parents’ room. That was the most comforting room in the house to her. Normally it would have been her own room that she would have gone to, but that had been converted into something else long ago, after she moved out to start her own life at her insistence. This room, then, was the only place she felt truly warm and safe. It was a lavishly decorated master bedroom with a king size bed covered in white sheets that was indeed worthy of a king. Christina moved over to this first, and lay down on it on her side. One large window overlooked the entire courtyard, and so the room was filled with warm sunlight. A gigantic wardrobe, shared by her parents and two or three feet taller than Christina, stood opposite the bed. As she gazed upon it, Christina was reminded of the ratty state of her own clothing. None of her clothes would be left in the house, of course, so she would have to make do with something else.

The woman slid off the bed delicately and crossed the floor. With ginger movements she opened the mahogany door of the dresser. The smell of mothballs greeted her immediately, and for some reason she found it comforting – perhaps because it was the first noticeable smell she could remember since the stench of the sewer and the iron aroma of blood. Looking into the wardrobe, Christina could see an assortment of her father’s and mother’s clothing, neatly separated side-by-side for each of them. The woman thumbed through the clothing to find something she might like to wear. The distraction was greatly appreciated, and so she took her time in doing so. She picked out a light black shirt almost exactly like the one she was currently wearing, and a pair of sturdy white pants. Then something caught her eye.

Slowly, Christina removed a red frock coat and held it in front of her. This was clearly one of her mother’s spare uniforms. Fashioned of exquisite red velvet, the coat was characterized by knee-length skirts all around it, but buttoned only to the waist. Into the breast were sewn intricate designs from a golden fabric. Christina found that the coat was unusually heavy, and examining its inside, she saw that it was lined with steel chainmail to provide suitable protection. With a smile, Christina set her new attire down on the bed, and began to change into it. First, she removed her stained clothes, which was a huge relief – now that she saw them clearly, she was practically revolted by the state they were in. From there, the woman stepped into the adjacent bathroom and showered quickly in an attempt to remove any remaining caked blood from her skin and hair. It paid off: Christina felt like an entirely new woman when she was finished.

Feeling and appearing cleansed, Christina crossed directly back into the bedroom and began to put on the clothes she had chosen for herself. The frock coat of the uniform was difficult to get used to as a result of its weight, but she donned it with pride, and she would have preferred nothing else in the wardrobe at all. When she looked in the mirror, Christina had to admit the clothing went well together. It was very smart, and she looked like a sterling example of the military. And, with a soft smile, Christina realized something else: she looked just like her mother.

[Christina Bredith]

Christina was mildly surprised that her uncle didn’t check up on her once or urge her to hurry up during the hours that she spent going through the house and putting her grief to rest. She was very glad that he didn’t. This was time that needed to be spent alone, and if Henry were to rush her along, she wouldn’t be able to come to grips with the loss she’d experienced. For all she knew, this was the last time she’d ever see this house. It may have been the last time she’d ever see Laricia, too. Christina’s life was going through a drastic change, and it would not be easy to acclimatize to.

Her journey led her throughout the entire house, which was quite massive. Every room was at least glanced upon one more time. Her old room had been left mostly as it was, but it was converted into another guest bedroom, and thus it felt somewhat cold and unfamiliar to her. Her parents’ study and library was just as it had always been left, stacked from floor to ceiling and wall to wall with an impossible number of books and maps. A large table sat in the middle of the circular room, and some of her father’s works were still sprawled out on it. Christina found it strange to think that nothing in this room would be touched every again. All those books, all that knowledge, would go to waste.

There was only one place left that Christina knew she needed to search: the large, sprawling, dusty attic. There was an entrance to it from the library, reached from one of the catwalks that lined the upper walls of the room on top of even the bookshelves. Christina pulled open the hatch, causing a step ladder to slide down with it, and climbed up into the darkness. It was cold and smelled musty, and she coughed frequently as a result of the dust saturating the air. Despite all that, she delighted in being up here, where her family’s memories were stored away when there was no room for them elsewhere. Christina lost track of time as she went through chest after chest of photographs and journals and diaries.

One of the albums caught her eye in particular, and she spent a great deal of time flipping through it. It was as sappy and sentimental a book as anyone would ever come across, devoted entirely to her and Jeremy, years ago when they were still an item. The book was filled with journal entries she had written, and pictures of the pair of them and their friends. With each page that she flipped through, more and more memories surfaced like bubbles rising to the top of a pond. They were happy memories, but bittersweet in light of what had recently happened. Before long Christina found herself crying; her tears stained the crisp pages of the album, and she pressed it against her and hugged it desperately. “Why did you have to leave?” she begged through misty eyes. “We could have been so happy…” Resentment for Jeremy’s parents began to rise to the surface along with the memories. Christina shut her eyes tightly and slipped the book inside her frock coat, to carry with her as a reminder.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, she came to a chest that was somewhat unlike the rest. It was large and ancient, and above all, it was padlocked. None of the other chests up here had been locked, because there had been no reason for them to be. Why would this one be any different? Christina had never thought her parents kept any valuables up here. Overwhelmed by curiosity, the woman reached out and grabbed the old, sturdy lock in her hand. To her surprise, she heard a click, and the lock opened easily as she tugged on it. Must have been really old, she thought to herself, figuring the lock mechanism had just malfunctioned after all these years. Slowly, Christina removed the lock and lifted the lid of the chest open. Its hinges screamed at having to move for the first time in decades, but they obeyed, and before long the woman could see what secret this chest was keeping.

It was a long sword, made of steel. At an initial glance, she could tell that it was well-wrought. The hilt was wrapped in soft, sturdy fabric, and the crossguard was decorated with small gems. The hilt looked as though something had once been decorating it as well, but whatever it was had broken off. More than this, there was something markedly unusual about this sword: as Christina lifted it out of the darkness, she could see that both sides of the blade contained strange, flat gemstone plates of various colours. There were five on one side of the sword’s flat, and five on the other side. Each was a different colour than the last, and they seemed to be there simply for aesthetics. Christina soon realized that was not the case.

Moments after she took the blade’s hilt into her hand, one of the gem plates began to glow faintly. This was a silver gem, and it was located near the tip of the sword. Most unusual, however, was what happened to the gem as she looked at it: a hot, orange light appeared in the center of the gem, and began to worm its way around, carving the shape of some kind of rune into it before dying away again. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before, and yet Christina found she could understand the rune’s meaning perfectly. “Scream,” she said aloud, as if reading the incomprehensible language. Despite the fact that Christina could understand the rune, she had no idea what it meant. She tried reading it aloud a couple more times, but that didn’t do anything special. She even tried actually screaming aloud – that spooked the horses waiting outside, but otherwise did nothing. Perhaps the gem was just there for decoration after all.

The question she had to ask herself now was whether she wanted the sword at all. Would she really continue fighting? Her parents were right – it was a difficult life, and the things she had seen were things she never wanted to see again. And yet, what else did she have? She had been training day in and day out for years. And everyone… everyone she loved… was gone. The decision was not easy to make, but without fully knowing why, Christina pulled the sword out of the chest along with its leather scabbard decorated with a rose, and joined the two items together. She strapped the scabbard around her waist, stood up, and headed back towards the ladder to exit the attic. Christina just knew that leaving the sword behind would be a mistake. It wasn’t something she could explain; something told her that if she took only one thing from that house, that sword should be it. And so, with her new weapon in tow, she climbed down to the main floor and prepared to leave her old house for good.

[Christina Bredith]

As Christina stepped out of the house and moved down the great steps, she could see that her Uncle Henry was once again outside the carriage waiting for her. He didn’t appear to be annoyed, although she could tell that it was already late afternoon and thus she must have been inside for many hours. Once again, that patience was very much appreciated. Even though she was just steps away from taking the biggest leap forward in her life, she felt as though she had appropriately dealt with her past and was ready to lay it to rest. With a couple of reminders in tow, Christina knew she could deal with her personal ghosts and forge a new life for herself.

Henry’s expression was one of surprise as he watched her descend the steps. He seemed to be looking at something particular on her person, although she couldn’t tell exactly what. His look was met with one of suspicion from Christina, who looked down at herself and then back at him as if questioning what it was that he was looking at. No doubt she looked like a new woman: there was no more dried blood on her clothes or grime in her hair, and she didn’t seem as tired or dreary as she had when she entered the house. It couldn’t have been that much of an improvement, though. “Is there something on my face?”

The man snapped back to attention and answered, seeming a bit flustered. “You just look so much like your mother when she was your age,” Henry explained with a smile. Christina blushed a little and continued her path down the main steps toward the carriage. One of the footmen stepped forward to open the door for both of them again. Henry ushered Christina in first, and then he stepped in afterwards. The carriage was small and cozy, but lavishly decorated with plush velvet seats and large windows. It was a definite tribute to her uncle’s wealth.

As soon as they were both inside, the second footman took his place beside the driver of the carriage, who snapped his whip and commanded the horses to begin their canter. Slowly but surely, Christina watched her house pass by through the side windows, and then shifted her view through the rear window while it became smaller and smaller. As the minutes passed, the house was eventually nothing more than a speck on the horizon, and then it was gone completely. Only then did Christina turn around and sit facing forward in her seat. She still had a slightly stunned expression on her face, like she could hardly believe what she was doing. Her life was turning upside-down and backwards and it was all happening so quickly. Yes, Christina Bredith was getting cold feet.

Her uncle seemed to pick up on this, and he patted her knee gently to get her attention. “I realize how difficult this must be,” he said calmly, “but you must remember that there’s nothing left for you back there.” The man nodded to emphasize the point, and Christina followed along. She knew he was right, of course. That house was too big to manage on her own, and she wouldn’t be able to find any work with Laricia overrun by orcs. Moving away, at least temporarily, would be her only bet. Even so, that didn’t make the prospect any easier to swallow. Even more daunting was the fact that she hardly knew her uncle. He visited on holidays, if the mood struck him, but otherwise he was always ‘too busy’ to stop by. She figured it was a bit strange for him to do so now, but she wasn’t complaining.

“How did you find out about… about my parents so quickly?” she inquired, stumbling over that mountain of a question as best she could. It was difficult to ask because it was like admitting to herself that her parents really were gone.

Henry looked at her quizzically. “So quickly?” The man quirked a brow. “It’s been two days since the battle ended.” Christina blinked hard at his answer. Two days? No way. It wouldn’t have taken her that long to walk home, even at her snail’s pace. “Perhaps you simply… passed out along the way? It would be perfectly understandable.”

She faced forward and pondered this for a long moment. She certainly didn’t remember passing out at any point along the way. Her mind was pretty active the entire way, even though her body was moving slowly. How could she possibly have fallen asleep? Although she definitely was exhausted. She was exhausted even now, as a matter of fact, now that she thought about it. Christina just couldn’t remember doing it! Even so, unless her uncle was a skilled and cruel liar, he must have been telling the truth about how long ago the battle was. He wouldn’t have any reason to lie, anyway. Something must, then, have happened between the time she left the battle and the time she arrived at her home. Maybe she was just moving way slower than she thought.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Henry suggested after a moment. “You look exhausted despite however long you may have slept. It will be several hours until we reach my estate, so it will be a good chance for you to catch up on lost time.”

Christina had to admit, it sounded like a damned good idea. Even though she was trying to listen attentively to him, and watch the scenery as it rolled by, her eyelids were drooping and her head was slowly nodding forward. Occasionally the sounds of the world would vanish from her perception, only to buzz right back in again and snap her awake. Before long, though, Christina allowed herself to succumb to the Siren’s call of sleep, for she was unable to disobey it any longer.

[Christina Bredith]

If the Bredith house was considered large, then the one belonging to Henry was a palace. A three story brick house situated on multiple acres of acutely attended gardens, Christina had been in awe of it from the very moment she set eyes on it. A mere third of his staff, which she could often see tending the grounds from the glorious five and ten foot windows at the front of the house, would have been more than capable of servicing the entire Bredith estate and then some. Whatever Henry was paying to keep such a workforce, it was worth it: Christina had never seen such a glorious garden. Roses, tulips, lilies and all manner of other flowers assaulted her senses, both sight and smell, whenever she stepped out the front door.

It had been one full day since Christina’s arrival at the manor, during which she took as much time as she could to rest. The first night was spent in a fitful but lengthy sleep in the luxurious four-poster bed assigned to her. During her waking hours, Christina was treated like royalty by her uncle’s servants. Two ladies-in-waiting had been assigned to her, and they heeded to her beck and call, much to her pleasant surprise. It was, in essence, a hyped up version of the treatment she received at home. Perhaps that was why her uncle ordered it.

Christina had also gotten a chance to see her cousin, Bianca, during her time at her uncle’s estate. Privileged with the best tutors money could buy, Bianca was always too busy with her studies to visit the rest of the family, so Christina hardly ever got the chance to be around her. In the day she spent there, however, Bianca was nothing short of cool and unfriendly. When she did slip out of the library, the most she would give Christina was a polite greeting before vanishing off to wherever she was going. Her cousin had never seemed so unkind in the past, but hindsight is not always brutally accurate.

As night settled in after their dinner, the ‘family’ moved into the living room. Expensively decorated, huge velvet curtains hung from the gigantic main window overlooking the courtyard, and a grand piano sat at one end of the room. Bianca was playing a slow, beautiful tune with unparalleled skill and grace; even her poise was that of a perfect lady. Christina was curled up on a plush divan which she had all to herself; her uncle was seated opposite her, in another sofa, reading quietly from an old book. The sword she had found in her attic was sprawled across her lap. Looking through her old diary brought back too much heartache to bear at the moment, so she was resigned to examining the strange blade as her only source of amusement.

It was unlike anything she had ever seen before. Each of the gem plates was exactly the same size, but carved from a different type of gem. Some of them were very peculiar gems, such as the silver one that was still glowing softly at the tip of the sword; Christina had never seen a silver gem before. Only that one had a rune carved into it, though. As well, the plates were stuck in quite tightly, impossible to remove. Whoever had placed them inside the blade had done so with considerable skill: there weren’t even any noticeable seams, so it appeared as though they were a natural part of the blade.

Christina wasn’t the only one examining the weapon. She often had the suspicious feeling that someone was watching her, and occasionally Bianca’s tune would slow down ever so slightly; either Henry or her cousin would then be looking at her and the blade, only to turn immediately back to whatever they were doing as soon as she looked at them. Most likely it was simply their disapproval of her wielding such an unruly weapon inside the house.

At length, Henry placed the cloth bookmark in his book and closed it. He rested the book in his lap and looked across the small distance to Christina. With a soft voice, he asked, “Do you really think you’ll be needing that?”

Christina furrowed her brow and looked up at him, instinctively pulling the blade closer to her. His concern was valid, since he was just a trader and had nothing to do with warriors, but the woman considered that blade to be one of her only real reminders of home. Technically speaking, she probably didn’t need it: all her needs would be taken care of here at her uncle’s estate, until she found out what to do with her life. Even so, that was not the answer Christina wanted to give, and so she gave none.

“Really, Christina,” Henry pleaded. He grabbed his silver-headed walking cane and rose to his feet, approaching her slowly. “You’re not a warrior. You’ll only hurt yourself with that.” Obviously he wasn’t aware of her unexpected actions back in Laricia when the orcs attacked. Christina found it slightly odd that he had heard such news as her parents’ deaths, but he had not heard anything about her – for indeed rumours would have been flying about as a result of seeing a young woman in fancy clothing fighting orcs. She did not press the matter.

“I’m keeping it,” she stated defiantly, gripping the hilt more tightly. It was not time to give away her true abilities with the sword, since she felt there was no real reason to cast such a light on herself. Henry and Bianca would never accept it.

Henry looked taken aback by her defiance, but his attempted suppression of that fact was obvious. With another step forward, he continued to plead. “Now, I’ve asked you nicely. Please give me the sword.” His voice took a darker turn which caused Christina to slink back in her seat. She simply shook her head. This was one area where she would not relent, despite her uncle’s kindness to her. He simply had to understand.

But indeed he did not. “If you will not give it to me,” the man threatened with a dangerous edge in his voice, “then I will take it by force. Bianca!” He turned towards his daughter and tossed the walking cane to her. The piano stopped as Bianca gracefully stood from her seat and caught the object with one hand. She advanced on Christina with almost robotic movements, and with a swift motion, revealed a sword from within the lower part of the cane. Christina’s eyes widened at the sight. Bianca assumed a fencing stance and stood a short distance from her cousin. With her frilled blouse and knee-length dress, she looked just as out of place as Christina had during the battle at Laricia.

“Wh—what are you doing?” she demanded, looking from her uncle to her cousin and back again.

“Taking what is rightfully mine! Bianca, confiscate Rosebite, now!”

Christina barely even had time to consider what he meant when he had called the sword Rosebite. Her mind was spinning too quickly to comprehend even such a simple fact. Instinct took over as Bianca crossed the distance between them in a single leap. The attack was deflected just in time, and from her sitting position, Christina kicked hard at her opponent’s stomach, driving her away. In one fluid motion she was up off the couch, ready to defend herself, but Bianca was not ready to give up. Her attacks continued with renewed vigor, even though the features on her face were cold and unemotional. Each movement was so controlled and efficient that the fighting could hardly be called “beautiful”. Even so, it was obvious that Bianca was more skilled than Christina was. Each strike came progressively closer to being a critical one, and if Christina hadn’t been wearing her mother’s old uniform, she’d probably have been torn to ribbons by now.

With each instant the battle dragged on, Henry became visibly more agitated. He had clearly not been expecting his niece to be so skillful; neither was she supposed to be so strong willed! The advantage was still Bianca’s, however. Christina required every ounce of her instinct and speed just to parry her opponent’s blows; it was impossible to strike back, not that she particularly wanted to. All the while her head continued to spin, questioning why this was happening all of a sudden. Why did they want this sword?

That distracting question nearly cost Christina her life. Bianca thrust her sword underneath her opponent’s parry, and caught her right in her stomach. Well-protected in that area, Christina was not mortally wounded, but the wind left her lungs in a hurry, just as Rosebite left her grip. No finishing blow came; instead, Bianca swooped down to collect the sword in her free hand, and she began to carry it over to her father, whose eyes were wide like those of a hungry dog.

“At last, it’s ours!” he spoke in his grim, victorious voice. “You’ve saved me the trouble of rooting through your house to find it, my dear.” Henry cast a smug glance over at the fallen Christina. His attention was diverted by a strange glow that was emanating from Rosebite’s blade.

“Father—!” Bianca gasped as she held the weapon aloft. All ten of the gems were glowing fiercely, and the rune that had been carved into the silver one burned with an angry, orange light. Suddenly, she screamed and dropped the blade, clutching her wrist as though she had just suffered a terrible burn. Christina could see that Bianca’s hand was indeed red and scarred as though it had been subject to a red-hot iron. But most unusual of all was the fact that Rosebite was sliding across the floor back towards Christina.

“No!” her uncle hissed as he watched the blade move on its own. “It can’t have chosen you!” Christina didn’t know what he meant, but she wasn't about to ask. The woman reached out reluctantly to touch the blade’s hilt. It didn’t burn her the same way it harmed Bianca; in fact, it felt quite cool to the touch. There was no time to ponder this phenomenon, however. “Take it, Bianca! Take it! Kill her if you must!”

“But father—” Bianca protested. For the first time, actual emotion showed on her face: concern. Whether it was for herself or for Christina was uncertain.

“Do it!” The command was definitive. There was no disobeying him. Bianca reluctantly turned and obeyed.

All Christina could do was raise her weapon and prepare to defend herself yet again, even knowing that it was a futile effort. But as she gripped it in both hands, she saw the silver gem glowing once again. It was a warm light this time, unlike the furious glow in response to Bianca. That is when a revelation struck Christina, tardy in its arrival but better late than never. Rosebite… the sword’s name is Rosebite. That’s what the rune means! Christina’s grip tightened and she stared down her opponent with newfound determination. Her ruby lips parted and she let out a powerful cry.

“Scream, Rosebite!”

The orange rune carved into the silver gem’s face began to glow again, its light extending a full foot out from the blade itself. Rosebite did indeed scream; a sharp howl pierced the tense silence that followed Christina’s words, and the still air was torn apart by chaos. A burst of blue energy raced forth from the weapon, tossing aside both couches and catching Henry and Bianca in its wake. They were thrown helplessly against the grand piano, which was also crushed by the blast, as was a good section of the supporting wall behind it. When the energy finally died down, the living room was in ruin, and it looked as though an elephant had just charged head-first into the wall. Christina was in complete awe of what had happened, but she managed to remain calm despite it all. Now was her moment of victory.

“Thanks for your hospitality, Unc. I’ll keep it in mind next time I need a place to stay.” With a smug grin and a side-bob of her head to add insult to injury, Christina headed straight for the exit, with Rosebite in tow.

Now that Christina knew what Rosebite was capable of and how to wield its power, she saw no reason why she couldn’t make it on her own. Radasanth is very nice this time of year, she thought, deciding to travel in that direction. Just as Bianca’s attacks cut her skin, her ties to others were cut as well. She walked away from her uncle’s estate having learned a valuable lesson:

Don’t trust anyone but yourself.

[INDK]

Well, I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed this thread… through ten posts. In some ways it feels like you tried to jam a second adventure into this thread even though it was only built for one. Still, you’ve earned yourself quite a good score. Well done.

Total Score= 75 Great Job! This is quite a high score, especially since you haven’t been on Althanas for a while. If you haven’t been spending the time creative writing, it seems like you really didn’t miss a beat.

Introduction – 9 This introduction impressed me not only in how well you managed to put so much useful information into one interesting post, but also because of how quickly you moved into the action of the thread.

Setting – 8 I really liked the way you juxtaposed the ugly setting with Christina. I also liked some of the anthromorphozation of the setting, like having the sun being sarcastically cheerful.

Strategy – 8 You seemed to have a bit of trouble here describing Christina’s martial prowess. At times, I felt like you gave me the impression she was a competent novice, other times a dilettante from your descriptions. I would be a bit more careful there. That said, I am generally pleased with how you played her. You put her up against tough challenges, but always managed to find believable ways to get her out of trouble.

Dialogue – 7 I liked that you emphasized nonverbal touches here, like having Christina grip a sword more tightly when she was nervous. The dialogue here was generally quite solid, not really spectacular, but solid.

Character – 8 I really like Christina as a concept for a character. It seems that you generally do know how to play her, though the introduction made me imagine you were going to take more of a “secret identity” kind of route with her.

Rising Action – 6 My biggest problem with this thread was it felt like it should have ended much earlier than it did. I thought ending the battle and getting her mother’s uniform would have been enough, but this kind of dragged on. While the battle against Bianca was not bad in and of itself, I don’t really feel it added to this story. I’m scoring you fairly high because right up into the battle, you had me very interested.

Climax – 5 I think this climax was hurt a bit by the fact that it wasn’t really a moment that stood out all that much. Because so much excitement had happened earlier in the thread, you didn’t do enough to make this stand out.

Conclusion – 7 This conclusion was short, but it was pretty solid. My problems in Rising Action not withstanding, I don’t have any real problems here.

Writing Style – 8 You are mostly a good writer. Some of your word choices are a bit inelegant, but your writing is still much better than average.

Wild Card – 9 I’m scoring this high just because I love how unique of a character Christina is. It’s too bad this thread fizzled out in the later parts, it could have been amazing.

Spoils=
Christina Bredith receives 800 EXP and 200 GP

[Zieg dil' Tulfried]

EXP and GP added.