agentmanatee
Riaxh
Lord Zee
Lumiere
Holding onto each breath for dear life, Kaite's balance shifted to and fro. The nothingness that came from the ring at first made her feel silly for putting her trust in such a trinket. She felt heavy, her vision darkening as she seized what commitment she had left to edge forward a step and retrieve her sword from her other hand.
A second step, her foot dragging and planting straight-legged, causing her to stumble back. In the motion, she leaned forward to compensate and dropped to a knee. Groaning out small frustrated growls, Kaite held herself up with the grip on her sword which she planted into the ground and the edge of her shield still fixed to her arm. Her head went limp, looking down and allowing blood to dribble from the openings in the visor.
Kaite blinked a few times, feeling the pull of the world persistently dragging, pulling like arms fighting to claw her into the grave. She hadn't thought about death very much, which she supposed was a bit of a comedic irony, given the circumstance. The scenes of the ancient war outside the elven capital, the skeletons still clenching their weapons even in death came to mind. Kaite darkly wondered what reasons they had for being there. Someone told them to? They needed the money? Direction? Boredom?
She knew so little of them, that as her mind wandered on the fringe of consciousness she grew introspective, wondering what she was dying for...dying for, not fighting; a swing hadn't been swung and an idea wasn't a fight, at least not to Kaite. The elves could call her corpse whatever they wanted, but dramatic titles alone, a champion does not make.
Her vision went white with the sound of tearing sheets, wondering where the sound was coming from as she felt oddly warm, feeling like she was floating. A voice called inside her head, asking if she wanted it all back. The calm nature behind it felt condescending to the dying knight as she'd thought the situation a bit past hopeless, especially considering the white-out of her sight. Still, lips behind the shining visor whispered a soft "Yes".
Kaite blinked back into the world with a gasp, amazed to find herself both alive and lucid. The numbness that had washed over her was replaced with a scalding agony of scores of wounds splayed open and leaving her warm with her own fresh blood. Once black armor glowed, iridescent with a light that left it almost white as snow, though it felt like her body was covered with branding irons.
"Ahhhh..." she groaned with as much energy she could muster to respond to her state, shakily lifting herself from the limp, hunched over stance. It was like a marionette pulled up by its strings, every inch of the knight begging to fall but being lifted by some deeply dug emotion. The command came from the ethereal voice, ordering her to get up.
More than the soul-carving sting of the countless old wounds was a dull ache in her knuckles.
"Then get up and take it."
Snow fell in gentle sheets, looking down at my old wooden sword lying in the snow. My knuckles were bruised and my eyes were blurry from tears, but I could still make out that old woman twirling her own weapon after knocking mine from my grip. "Dead..." she sighed, kneeling in front of me and easing an arm under mine as she pressed a handful of snow onto the injury she inflicted. "Y'can't jus drop ya sword loik 'at. Y'git hit an' y'keep swingin', ah?" she cooed, dabbing my face with the sleeve of her coat and looking at me in silence. A reassuring smile was planted amidst her laugh lines from the years of enjoying life, though the wrinkles under her eyes expressed a slight doubt before speaking once more. "Y'don't have ta join the guard, Kaity...'eres plenty of work t'be done around the forge" she offered, and like a child I snapped back, "I wan'ta make a livin makin' something of myself! Not...making stuff f'others."
Her plastic smile gained an edge as her eyes narrowed. As badly as she wanted me to keep the forge a family business, especially after Lukaas died, she was a realist who knew I would get up if she presented the option I stayed down. Standing and flicking the snow from her hand, she took a few steps back and asked very deliberately and clearly, "That is what you want?"
I nodded but stayed down, holding the snow in place before she tapped on my sword with hers and reassumed her combat stance.
"Then get up...get up 'an take it"
The white of the snow faded away in favor of the darkness in the clearing. "Aaaahhhhh...!" Kaite voice came once more, still shaky and weakened as her bruised hand clenched her sword with restored force, blinking away tears as she drew her blade from the earth. A bit wobbly at first, but with a click of her other hand clenching the handle of her shield and giving the ground a few punishing jabs that left deep indents, Kaite rose and belted out a fierce war cry fueled by regret and physical torment.
Then a second...
Then a third like a witch being set aflame as she charged the figure with shield raised. A sleight of hand drew her shortsword and released the shield's locks, kicking the heavy plate of steep towards them and hoping to catch him with both blades while reeling from the surprise attack or while dodging.
A second step, her foot dragging and planting straight-legged, causing her to stumble back. In the motion, she leaned forward to compensate and dropped to a knee. Groaning out small frustrated growls, Kaite held herself up with the grip on her sword which she planted into the ground and the edge of her shield still fixed to her arm. Her head went limp, looking down and allowing blood to dribble from the openings in the visor.
Kaite blinked a few times, feeling the pull of the world persistently dragging, pulling like arms fighting to claw her into the grave. She hadn't thought about death very much, which she supposed was a bit of a comedic irony, given the circumstance. The scenes of the ancient war outside the elven capital, the skeletons still clenching their weapons even in death came to mind. Kaite darkly wondered what reasons they had for being there. Someone told them to? They needed the money? Direction? Boredom?
She knew so little of them, that as her mind wandered on the fringe of consciousness she grew introspective, wondering what she was dying for...dying for, not fighting; a swing hadn't been swung and an idea wasn't a fight, at least not to Kaite. The elves could call her corpse whatever they wanted, but dramatic titles alone, a champion does not make.
Her vision went white with the sound of tearing sheets, wondering where the sound was coming from as she felt oddly warm, feeling like she was floating. A voice called inside her head, asking if she wanted it all back. The calm nature behind it felt condescending to the dying knight as she'd thought the situation a bit past hopeless, especially considering the white-out of her sight. Still, lips behind the shining visor whispered a soft "Yes".
Kaite blinked back into the world with a gasp, amazed to find herself both alive and lucid. The numbness that had washed over her was replaced with a scalding agony of scores of wounds splayed open and leaving her warm with her own fresh blood. Once black armor glowed, iridescent with a light that left it almost white as snow, though it felt like her body was covered with branding irons.
"Ahhhh..." she groaned with as much energy she could muster to respond to her state, shakily lifting herself from the limp, hunched over stance. It was like a marionette pulled up by its strings, every inch of the knight begging to fall but being lifted by some deeply dug emotion. The command came from the ethereal voice, ordering her to get up.
More than the soul-carving sting of the countless old wounds was a dull ache in her knuckles.
"Then get up and take it."
Snow fell in gentle sheets, looking down at my old wooden sword lying in the snow. My knuckles were bruised and my eyes were blurry from tears, but I could still make out that old woman twirling her own weapon after knocking mine from my grip. "Dead..." she sighed, kneeling in front of me and easing an arm under mine as she pressed a handful of snow onto the injury she inflicted. "Y'can't jus drop ya sword loik 'at. Y'git hit an' y'keep swingin', ah?" she cooed, dabbing my face with the sleeve of her coat and looking at me in silence. A reassuring smile was planted amidst her laugh lines from the years of enjoying life, though the wrinkles under her eyes expressed a slight doubt before speaking once more. "Y'don't have ta join the guard, Kaity...'eres plenty of work t'be done around the forge" she offered, and like a child I snapped back, "I wan'ta make a livin makin' something of myself! Not...making stuff f'others."
Her plastic smile gained an edge as her eyes narrowed. As badly as she wanted me to keep the forge a family business, especially after Lukaas died, she was a realist who knew I would get up if she presented the option I stayed down. Standing and flicking the snow from her hand, she took a few steps back and asked very deliberately and clearly, "That is what you want?"
I nodded but stayed down, holding the snow in place before she tapped on my sword with hers and reassumed her combat stance.
"Then get up...get up 'an take it"
The white of the snow faded away in favor of the darkness in the clearing. "Aaaahhhhh...!" Kaite voice came once more, still shaky and weakened as her bruised hand clenched her sword with restored force, blinking away tears as she drew her blade from the earth. A bit wobbly at first, but with a click of her other hand clenching the handle of her shield and giving the ground a few punishing jabs that left deep indents, Kaite rose and belted out a fierce war cry fueled by regret and physical torment.
Then a second...
Then a third like a witch being set aflame as she charged the figure with shield raised. A sleight of hand drew her shortsword and released the shield's locks, kicking the heavy plate of steep towards them and hoping to catch him with both blades while reeling from the surprise attack or while dodging.