Crimson Snow

“Chimi,” dad said quietly from her right, “Are you well?”

Chimi opened her eyes to see her father’s face strained with concern. He always had wrinkles when he was worried. “Alive, sir.” She rasped.

“Eleanor has everyone up in hurrah at you being Rasu Reborn.” He ran a hand through her hair, “I’m overjoyed to see you’re alive. Can you move your arms, legs?” he stood up from the side of the makeshift bed.

Chimi touched the ‘bed’ to feel she was on a large root of the Shimmerrain tree. She dragged herself to sit up with no aches but dull pain in the side, shoulder, chest and arm. She looked at her flesh to see none of it had been burned, “Was that fire real?”

“The Blades confirm they all saw it.” He said and raised a hand to someone. Chimi glanced in that direction to see that Eleanor had made an attempt to get closer. “You should eat,” he continued, “I’m assigning you Ishi to keep an eye and a few more guards to keep anyone from approaching if you’d like.”

“Yes,” she muttered, “Some quiet for now, just Isheila.”

He gave her a stout nod, “I’ve matters to discuss with Egeon, then I shall return.”

“Go eat.” She said, “I know you haven’t since I’ve been lying here.”

He chuckled as he walked away. Chimi wanted to share the laughter; however, from around the camp, she felt eyes on her, chiefly mages. Every mage in the detachment had taken note of her and stared intently as if something drew their attention like moths to flame. She tugged the blanket about herself as Ishi ran over from the Blades camp after her father had spoken some words. When Ishi arrived by her side, she smiled up at the girl and decided to get some more rest. She had done something to live up to her father’s sacrifice for keeping her alive and allowed herself to drift into unconsciousness again.

Chimi’s legs raced through the undergrowth of the southern forest, snow between her toes, and numbness coursed up through her body as she sprinted. Black tar splashed on her skin, and she prayed to find her armour as the Vileroot’s appendages whipped her skin, raking blood and flesh with each serrated lash. She cried for help. Acrid air seared her lungs as the taste nearly had her gag with each rushed step until she tumbled over something. She looked back to see it was a man’s hand.

She pulled herself up. If the Vileroot caught her, something would be lost. Something the world needed—

“Why did you leave us, Chimi…?”

She turned to see Gibson on the floor, just his torso and his head still attached, with his other limbs severed and crushed beneath the large roots of a Leshii.

“Gibson!”

The corrupt Fae’s branches entered the man’s mouth, she tried to drag them out, but they plucked out his eyes, exploded his nose and eventually ripped his skull open from the inside.

Chimi recoiled at the sight, wretched from the blood that covered her. She flailed and tried to get away, but found herself face to face with her mother’s glazed-over eyes.

“Foul slut, you betrayed us all!” Isheila shouted, “You should be reaped of your essence and cast to the wind as chaff!” She said in a daemon’s voice, “YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN BORN AS A MAN TO FULFILL THE PROPHECY!”

“NO!” Chimi scrambled away, tumbled backwards into a deep pit where the Blades hung by their ribs, barely alive, eye sockets filled with leaves.

Chimi tumbled out of bed, covered in sweat, and grit her teeth at the dull pain in her arm, leaning herself back against the tree root. She steadied her heart, pushed the nightmare from her mind and focused on the fire nearby. The stones were each perfectly smooth, the hole crudely dug out and stuffed with wood to ignite and keep her warm. Crackles, sparks that came with the hot flames. She leaned her head back and smelled a mug of tea and a pot of broth that were braced up on a thick branch above her bed. She didn’t feel like needing to piss and didn’t want to eat, so she left them be.

The hunger faded minutes later as Chimi distracted herself by taking note of the guard encampments set up around the area and atop the hills. She decided maybe if she could see extremely wide. Perhaps she could focus her vision, perceive things far away... When she did, her sight cleared up as if she had cat’s eyes in the dark, but a heavy strain in the front of her head forced her to withdraw. She glanced up at the vast expanse of the sea of stars. Twinkling lights suspended above their world, each ancient light dwarfed her lifespan by aeons, and how many tales they knew of their world that may have been lost in the annals of war.

“Excellent, you’re out of bed.” Isheila approached, “How are you feeling?”

Chimi grunted, knowing what comes next.

“Mhm, no bloody complaints, eat.” She took up the bowl and spooned some of the plain broth—

“May I have something that tastes!?” Chimi turned away from the spoon.

“We don’t want to risk upsetting your stomach,” Ishi said.

“That’s a lie.”

“I don’t know, perhaps?” Ishi smiled cheekily, “But for safety’s sake, eat.”

Chimi turned to glare at her, “I’ll eat by myself-“

Ishi shoved the spoon into Chimi’s mouth, “Enough of you, cottonsocks.”

She gulped down the bland broth, “Bloody cottonsocks.” She growled as Isheila continued to spoon-feed her her terrible ‘cooking’. She remembered the flashes of nightmares, the terrified eyes. The horrors that mature Reisblights brought to the world. She had to get stronger; the Empress of Eiramoor could wave a finger and exterminate hundreds of blights as if they were clothing stains to an army of maids.

Two horses approached them. Chimi spotted father and mother on horseback with Eleanor trailing behind them on foot. She hoped Eleanor would leave them alone for the time being— No, she wanted to be alone.

“Well done, Chimi, well done.” Mother said, “The stars shine on you.” She dismounted and wrapped her arms around Chimi, “Are you well? We’ll need to get you some armour and ensure you’re ready for your next battle once you return to Emmerlaine…”

Mother continued to speak, but Chimi was lost in the scent of… Starflowers? They did not exist, but she was certain that her mother smelled of it. “Is it true, Rasu Reborn?” Chimi asked.

“Eleanor says it may be. But others are already convinced.” Father said.

Mum took out a pack-in of salted dried meat and pushed it into Chimi’s hand, “Your favourite. You were wonderful today.”

The dried acrid beef and chicken tasted delicious. Chimi wished she had some broth to dip more of this in. Dad ruined the moment when he waved Eleanor over.

“I surrender, warchief.” The woman said with dry sarcasm, “Yet, today something has changed, and now there is no stopping it.”

“Speak plainly, mage.” Mother said.

“Chimi understands, I do not.” She inclined her head, “What a power like that awakens, we can all feel it, thus as to why every mage cannot take their eyes off of you. Moths to a flame, Brightwings to dragonfrost.”

The woman was correct, but… why did she have an odd spark about her? Like the woman had some sort of draw on the space around her. Chimi took another bite as she observed the strangeness about the woman that had emerged. Did she always seem this way?

“You see it, an oddity in your vision as if you are bearing witness to the star chart in person. As if Cae has touched your chin to lift your eyes to the heavens to see what she observes daily?” Eleanor said, “You are a mage, and perhaps the strongest mage we’ll ever witness in Alba.”

Chimi saw a flash of metal on the north side hills, something wooden flick through the sky. Her vision had brightened compared to the time before; something struck one of the Emmerlaine guards. His body tumbled over.

“ENEMY ATTACK!” she bellowed at the top of her voice.

Dad looked around to look in the direction she looked in, and a horn sounded confirmation. “IDENTIFY THE ENEMY!” he shouted, “PLATOONS FORM SCHILTRONS, AWAIT ORDERS!” he dashed off with his guards at his heels.

Chimi moved to stand up, but her mother and Ishi stopped her. Eleanor gave her another credulous nod and smile before she walked away with the gait of a bloody princess.

“I can fight,” Chimi protested, “It’s my duty.”

“No, you need to rest,” mother said, “Your shoulder just recovered.”

She couldn’t shake the images of her loved ones and her fellows dead by a Vileroot’s malevolence. She had to get stronger, the unit she was welcomed to needed her. For once, someone needed her. The chance she had wanted, she would seize with all her might, the feeling. The heat of battle, the culling of fell creatures, was ecstatic.

“Mother, I had a terrible nightmare that if I didn’t do my duty, all of Emmerlaine would die by a Vileroot. If this is true, which I believe it is.” She gripped her mother tight, “I can be something amazing, more than our history of war.”

“Empress of Eiramoor.” Mother said, “I know.”

“I don’t need to fight today, I can do something. I can do other things, I can see wide and far, I can burn them to ashes.”

“Promise me you won’t fight tonight.”

“I promise, mother.”

She released Chimi from her embrace and sat down before her in the snow, “One more thing, dear heart, you know the tales of Rasu. If you die, they will see the Binder of Urien Chaim perish. They instead will lay down their souls for you. The moment you displayed that power, the path back to normalcy had been cut off.”

“I am—“

“A horse for Chimi, daughter of Angus and Wes,” Said a young man’s voice, “I am Charles, Son of Dane, brother of Annabella. My sister saw your balefire beyond the Reisveil. We believe you are the Rope of Chaim, the Binder of Urien reborn.”

Mother raised a hand to him, “Despite there being no such prophecy?”

“As we trust Commander Angus enough to note assassinate his daughter, we trust results over the words of a lower so-called deity.”

“You speak blasphemy.” Mother said with masked emptiness.

“You do not believe him to be as such either.” Charles said, “We are in agreement.”

“We are.” Mother said, “Go,” she whispered, “Fulfil your duties and remember what I said.” She gave Chimi’s arm a squeeze and kissed her cheek.

“Yes, mother.” Chimi turned to Charles, “Who sent you, son of Dane?”

“Your father and Gibson, they both insist you attend headquarters with my sister and I as your guard. Tonight is to be my duty; she will attend you another time.” He took out a dagger and pointed it at his palm, but she raised a hand to stop him.

“No oaths, not yet.” She said quietly and swung up onto Kennedy’s warhorse. Her spear and shield were already present, but she took the shield alone as they began to ride.

“We are to lend support, orders from the commander.”

“You speak like a mage.” She observed the warriors ascending hills.

“Yes.” He said, “Ride to battle, Rasu, ride with us.” He set his horse to gallop through the camp.

She followed after the man, his path through the snow was as good as expected of an Emmerlaine man, which meant the mages hadn’t taken him into their fairy nonsense. The night air hit her face, and her right shoulder seemed to find a salve in the cold wind to ease its ache. Willow bark, when she returned from the battle to ease herself through the forced healing given by Sebastian.

As they ascended the slope, she heard the clash of weapons and cries of battle from Odibrand’s berserker culture. At the peak of the hill, she scanned the battlefield: they were in a deadlock, with Emmerlaine outnumbered by brigands who called themselves soldiers. The Blades were nowhere in sight, without a doubt, Gibson was up to his tricks again. She gripped her reins and galloped after Charles to headquarters, where the rearguard remained, mages had spells completely dormant.

Charles galloped around puddles of Reis tar, over bodies of fallen comrades. Chimi felt a sickness twist in her stomach when she saw the corpses of Emmerlaine's siblings and Odibrand men and women alike piled on the floor; those steeped in tar had already bloated, and some erupted in splatters of black and crimson.

Before long, they had arrived at Dad’s position, stoic as ever and still as a mountain. He gave orders to scouts who raced off on horseback, she realised what he shoved into the back of his head: a better messaging system, more horses. Both of which likely required unity among the Steppe clans.

“Commander,” Charles said.

“Egeon,” Father said without looking at them.

Egeon cantered forward on his horse, “The Blades’ raids will shatter their lines soon as their headquarters falls.” He set his horse to a gallop with a light guard and Eleanor in tow. Charles and Chimi followed close behind. Chimi took the moment to observe the battlefield with a clear mind. Most of the mages remained at camp to blast the hills if they failed up here. Eleanor, eager to enhance her position, had her own battery somewhere on the field, advised by the commander. The first and second platoon had split their guard unit in half to supply more muscle on the field and to get some killing in against Odibrands. Likely the fourth and fifth engaged first with Poole and Hammond’s bloodlust boiling high.

“Your eyes see wide, can they see long?” Egeon pointed a finger diagonally to his right.

She drew a breath of frost and peered into the distance. The strain was still there, but the dark spot out beyond the light became clear. She saw a cluster of men around the lanky commander. She shut her eyes to compose herself.

“I can’t pick out the details,” she said, “I know where he stands.”

“Good.” Egeon turned, “Billiam, girlie court.”

A rider turned and set his horse to a dead run back to Dad.

“Children like you being born is a sign from the gods,” Egeon said, “We’ve been waiting for this, no, Eiramoor’s has long waited for the arrival of a time of legends. Now we will be in the tales that children learn to fight coming evils.”

“Pray we do return, sir.” One of the riders said.

“Indeed.” Charles agreed, “I am bound to her coy”

“That was quick, but you were a cunning bastard who loves to cast chits and stones,” Egeon said.

Chimi was almost sure that Egeon, in the middle of a bloody battlefield from an Odibrand ambush, was smiling like a boy in a barracks. When this man is happy, the land will warm to the Isles of Summerset. She must be something special, else this hard-as-nails man would never smirk.

The detachment slowed to a stop at a makeshift mage and archer battery surrounded by spearmen. Egeon and Eleanor led them between the soldiers and up to the small rise in the land where Eleanor’s mages had gathered.

“Weaver of the Rope, Binder of Urien, Keeper of Chaim, firstborn of Ravellnami and Kellrayi.” Eleanor gestured to her, “I am grateful for your awakening.”

Chimi gripped her reins, “Enough,” she muttered.

Egeon gave no reaction and glanced back toward Dad’s camp, where a rider galloped toward them, “A message from the commander!”

“Speak!” Egeon snapped.

“Y-yes—“ He cleared his throat, “Under the stars marked as the seven brothers, brother Thommen, you must strike the unit that rests to disperse the enemy.”

A gout of fire struck at them from the left, and the mages struck back with snaps of lightning. Eleanor took no note of the attack. “Do continue.”

“Chimi will guide your strike, have her display her prowess.” The rider pulled the horse around and rode off.

Chimi saluted, You have complete faith in me, Father. I will not let that faith be disappointed. Egeon still gave no reaction and simply stepped aside, calm as her father was. A mountain surrounded by forests that defined its landscape. She needed to be like these men, to take all pictures into mind and address them as a stolid bastion of peace.

Chimi dismounted and joined them on the rise. She pointed directly where their commander stood, “He’s there, precisely.”

Eleanor closed her eyes and drew an old runic staff with carvings, fire, air, water, earth and lightning; there were a few others she did not recognise. An old tree, and a mountain. A few other of her mages gathered and wielded similar staffs, all pointed toward her.

“The god of thunder sleeps a rightful death, the stars bind the Urien, the Rope binds the Chaim, twin meteors announce her rebirth, and the stars dance a paean. Blessed be, blessed be, lands of Everwinter, for returning the Maiden of The Expanse, the Elder of Star brands.” Chimi felt that spark within her brighten, like a star she could clutch with her mind, she reached out to touch it. Barely beyond her reach, just beyond her view like sunlight under the horizon. She yearned further, even physically using her free hand to grip it. Her index finger brushed the rock that glinted with light—

A beam of lightning and flame ripped through the air with a near-deafening boom. A crash of noise ripped across the battlefield with the explosion of the enemy headquarters. The men died instantly from the attack despite the mages who bound together to attempt some form of countermeasure. They did not expect the shift in power inside of Emmerlaine’s fairy court.

Chimi saw the glares in her eyes even after the action had been taken, and Eleanor set down to rest.

“Well, my court of mages, Chimi blessed our spell. There is no doubt.”

Nods of agreement and other forms of pretentious ‘yes’ and wordier ‘yes’ came from the titters among the fairy plankers. Despite their pretty words, they are bloody boring—

“Answer properly, you needle-necked grotting pear-shaped gashes!” Hammond bellowed from behind as he cantered toward them.

“YES!” they snapped.

“Ravellnami blinded and bound to not see you toffs bring shame to your ancestors with this pissy behaviour. I find it hard to believe the same Yeomen hailed us, you fucking cat house whores!” he spat.

Battlecries resounded through the field as Odibrand tried to break into retreat. A familiar horn blown by Caitlin from the Blades of Emmerlaine welcomed them into the jaws of death. They surged down another small rise in the land, archers pelted Odibrand down before they entered the fray with vicious stabs, thrusts and swings of greatswords and spears. Axes were thrown at Odibrand's archers, and then they were flanked by the main forces of Emmerlaine.

Roaming schiltrons in their loved bullheads formation were broken under the sweeps that pressed them into one another and the flank that wedged them in. Flames surged to life in response but were shut down by Eleanor’s mages, who deployed concentrated bursts that drew glittering dust in Chimi’s eyes as she felt something shift within herself. She was where she wanted to be, but something felt off.

Chimi opened her eyes for the first time when she realised she was watching men be impaled on spears, beaten hard with heavy weapons till they internally bled and died. Eyes were crushed by blunt weapons that collapsed helmets. Intestines were dragged out by serrated spears, and mouths torn open by a swing.

Slain and captured like animals, Emmerlaine soldiers killed with heated passion in the throes of blood-fuelled ecstasy. Joy and cheer spread through steel and slaughter.

Ten minutes had passed when the Odibrand who remained were collected up and dragged behind horses face down back to camp. A few of them were dragged by the Blades back to where she stood with Egeon and Eleanor. Gibson dismounted and approached. Egeon drew his sword. Chimi gave a confused look to both men. He and the Blades brought Odibrand men with them, all tied in hard rope and gagged.

“Are you certain, sir?” Gibson asked with a strangely soft expression.

Egeon threw his sword to the ground before Chimi, “Kill these Odibrand.”

Chimi felt a locust chew her stomach and a fist of black ice clench her heart. She stepped back from Egeon’s sword as snowfall began again.

“Your father would be disappointed.” Egeon said, “This is the path of the one who will become the Empress of Eiramoor, and you attempt to shirk and play donkey. Are you a coward? Were you blessed with power simply to lose and cry like a diffy because you need to kill the enemy!?”

Chimi shivered, “I—“

Charles turned his back to her and approached the sword, but Gibson blocked him, “Your sister feels the same way.” He said.

She can say it herself.

Gibson stepped aside, Charles took up the sword and swung for one of the men, only for Annabella to deflect it with a shield swing and place her knife at his throat. Charles dropped the sword and smiled back at his elder sister.

“This is necessary, brother.” She said. “Take the sword, Chimi, execute these men.”

The expectation of war, the only thing as constant as Everwinter: Death. She gripped the sword with shaky hands. Dad and mother said killing came easily to them… for Chimi, however, she wanted to knock them out and show them mercy. To hope they’d come to her side and become allies who’d see how wrong their ways are.

You’re not a child anymore. You’re not a child. The world is cold, the world is Everwinter and a cold heart to match it. If I fail now, I’ll be stood down for good, maybe even killed, to hope for the next rebirth— Chimi could taste blood in her mouth from the unconscious biting her lip.

The soldiers had encircled her, eyes expecting the deaths of the captured Odibrand soldiers who hung their heads low in silence. She watched her breath inevitably travel up in a thin mist toward the sky, murmurs of cowardice and her mistaken birth began to fill the air again. Chimi tried to stop her hands from shaking as she made her approach. To kill a Fae, monster, daemon, was a simple thing. Duty dictated that she must fulfil by their malevolent nature, light as a feather. Easy as cutting cheese. But humans were not inherently evil, she believed that humans were good. That she was good.

As she stood over the man, snowflakes melted against her nose, the icy air in her nostrils. She looked down at him, face swollen from blows to the face, hair cut unevenly from avoided strikes from sharp weapons. She tried to toughen herself up.

If this man was just a man doing his duty to fight, was she bad for killing him? What would he do if he were given a chance?

She cut the gag to free his mouth. “Why did you attack?”

The warrior laughed, “It’s you, isn’t it, child of apostasy?”

She took a step back.

He spat on her shin guard, “To rid the world of Emmerlaine’s oath-breaking.”

Thoughts spun through her head. He wasn’t inherently evil. To try to right the prophecy was not evil, but— “Eleanor—“

The woman turned her back on Chimi.

Was there truly no other option? Chimi’s hands shivered on the hilt. She shoved the thoughts aside. This man would kill her mother and father, this man desires the eradication of Emmerlaine. She sucked in a ragged breath of frosty air and slashed his throat. She recoiled as blood showered over her gambeson and the snow. Chimi nearly dropped her sword, but the men and women around expected her to kill the rest of these nine men. Eight to go. The questions tried to clog her mind, but she shoved them down.

Not now. Chimi thought and gritted her teeth to focus. Ice, snow and frost. War and Everwinter. Risis, grant me wisdom, Yinoyul, shield my mind from doubt.

On her next inhale, she steeled herself. Calm as a mountain, stolid as a father. She squeezed the handle and moved over to the next man. He looked up at her with mad dog’s eyes, they almost reminded her of the eyes of the Reisnik that she had helped lay low. Chimi’s lips thinned to a line.

She swung the sword to try to show mercy by taking his head off, but barely cut into his neck. She held her breath, shut her eyes when the blood spattered over her and plunged the sword into his neck again.

Her eyelids were drenched, the sound of bone, gagging, sputtering of the man dying badly, she heard him flail about and wiped her eyes from his blood to see him convulse madly with all his strength. Mercy. She wanted to show mercy. She swung again. And again. And again. Until his head finally came off.

Chimi fell backwards and dropped the sword, breathing hard. She looked at the mess, his head lay on the ground lifeless with those mad dog eyes that glared at her from beyond the grave. She snatched her hand down from trying to put a wall between him and herself. She heard a horse gallop close by. If it was her father— she gathered herself up and shut the emotions off— the tears wouldn’t stop spilling down her cheeks from the thing being ripped away from her. The choice that was being forced out of her by the people she called her fellows.

Chimi stood by the last kill, the horrible cut with terrible technique and her panic. She could still taste his blood, smell it in her nose. The putrid crimson flooded her senses. She had to watch, the Empress of Eiramoor would never flinch at this. Chimi had to become the Empress. She had to be better than the prophecy. But she wanted to weep for her enemy, how she had killed him badly— she could still sense his glare from Zitlaan’s realms of death.

She raised the blade to the next man who had less malice in his eyes, and she stopped dead in the moment. Empress of Eiramoor. Her dream.

“Your birth is special,” Dad said from behind, “More special than anyone could have imagined. So you must be exceptional in killing, giving and preserving life. You will face enemies who will commit atrocities, so you must be more atrocious, you will meet enemies who can be redeemed, so you must make them fear you enough to wish for redemption. Your life will become a pale blade and your mind sharper still. If you wish to succeed me, to succeed our ancestors, my daughter, who wishes to be Empress, you must become the most monstrous woman who maintains her humanity. Execute these men, teach them fear to speak to their fellow man in Zitlaan’s realm.”

Chimi gave no reaction, just the thoughts that tumbled like dice in her mind. Terrible things, atrocities, monstrous human. Her mind overwhelmed by the waterfall of emotions like rapids inside her skull, she wanted to raise her head to the heavens and scream, but instead went for the swing and accidentally sliced the man’s lips and cut the gag.

“Child of blasphemy.” Blood bubbled in his mouth. “How did you kill Captain Noel in the dark?”

Chimi stayed silent, stewing in her head for a time… “I can see well in the dark…”

He flinched as if she slapped him, “A gift from the gods.” He ruefully nodded, “Kill me.” He said, “I have gone against their true plan. Ravalel is a liar.”

“I—“

“Do as your father says.” He raised his neck.

Chimi lowered her head, lips thin to a line again.

“There must be blood for our lives to mean anything, there must be death when it is deserved!” he protested.

“Almiko guide me, Phebris sharpen my blade.” She whispered.

“The words come to those blessed by the gods." He bared his teeth at her in a snarl, "Speak them.”

“Rivers flow evermore, between life and death’s cycle, divine twins revel.”

“It is an honour.”

She gripped the sword with all her strength, her head was clear for but a moment and through clenched teeth she sliced with all her strength and took off his head.

Chimi stumbled forward with the fountain of blood drenching her armour in blood and loosed a ragged scream from her gut. Her head felt heavy, emotions clogged her head like muddy saltwater. Five more to go, and she couldn’t see beyond the blood and tears in her eyes. Ygriar’s mercy, she was stuck with the weight of her heart rebelling against her, and the gods wouldn’t grieve the death of something she had no concept of valuing.

Laan’s breath, her innocence. She slammed the ground with her fist several times before she stood up again. “I will become the Empress, I will overcome this.” She said haggardly. She pushed the thoughts and emotions aside, aside from the one decisive action to get her out of this scenario.

“Phebris, sharpen the blade, Almiko, allow it to pierce the space between worlds below words.” Her heart struck her like a hammer to an anvil. She filled her lungs with air and instructed it to calm itself as she forced herself to focus on action. The blade and their necks. The remaining decapitations came easily; the pangs that came with each life taken weighted down her shoulders.