8 - To Kill or be Killed

Elethien sat on a rock raised just a bit above the nearly endless plains. The Trelvenese camp was just within sight, the outlines of a wooden palisade placed on the horizon. Around her was a small team of around twenty Foresters, all on foot and smothered with dirt. Their few horses were grazing on grass a short distance away, resting after their long journey. The others had departed in teams of ten over the course of the journey, tasked with only one mission: to burn and loot the nearby fields before regrouping southeast at Elethien’s current location.

No one really knew the goal of Elethien’s plan. Unlike the brute-force, brainless charge on the fortress town before, the team had just been circling the enemy camp and the city of Maerila for the entire day, living only on the supplies they took with them from the destroyed town. The enemy was in front of them, but they chose not to engage.

From the scouting, Teion now had a clear picture to present to Elethien.

‘The enemy has many troops spread out outside the city in their camp,’ he reported. ‘There are Foresters in their camp, but they’re all gathered in one area. Before we were about to return, the camp’s only gate opened and an army of infantry and cavalry marched out. They were heading northeast towards the nearby forest. If it wasn’t for their single-mindedness, we could’ve been caught. There were just too many of them.’

But all this time Elethien barely moved from her rock, her eyes closed and her hands cupped together as if she was in meditation, mumbling words for short periods of time before opening her eyes again and pretending as if nothing happened.

‘What are you doing?’ Teion inquired.

‘This is “prayer”, Teion,’ she said. ‘A ritual where I connect myself with Fate. I’m talking to it, basically.’

‘So what is Fate saying?’ Teion asked.

‘Let me have my silence,’ she answered. ‘Fate is whispering to me. Just wait for my orders.’

‘... Alright.’ Perplexed, Teion sat next to her on the ground, waiting for some sort of sign.

Of course, Elethien couldn’t blame him for his questions. She had originally planned for a direct march southeast to Maerila, breaking into the well-fortified city exactly as she had done for that fortress town before. That was when she heard it for the first time since she embarked on her journey.

Do not overestimate yourself.

So what should I do?

It was that question which led Elethien to her current situation, constantly engaged in conversation with the deity that gave her her powers. Whatever Fate commanded her to do, she did. No matter how absurd it sounded, she followed. Even if this meant she now only had twenty by her side against an army likely in the many thousands, she trusted her God for its guidance.

Just like a mindless slave following the commands of her master. Better to be a slave to a deity who protected them than a kingdom who sent them to their deaths, however.

‘I’ve sent my people to burn the Trelvenese fields on our way here and my best soldiers have circled the city already,’ she muttered. ‘What’s next?’

Send all of your people into the enemy camp.

‘And me?’

Enter the forest alone.

There was no specific instruction. After many days of travel, Elethien was to be on her own.

Will you follow?

‘... I trust you.’ This was her answer. Even if this meant leaving all of her people for some vague instruction, she would do so without hesitation.

She opened her eyes. It was sunset. A plan was formulated in her mind. These were to be the specifics of Fate’s instruction. What Fate didn’t say to her in her prayer, she now received in the form of inspiration. This must be it. She would carry it out without fail.

‘So what did it say?’ Teion asked again.

‘Everyone,’ Elethien announced. ‘You will head into the enemy camp and infiltrate the Forester area. Attack the enemy from there, and hide amongst your brethren to avoid being killed. The enemy’s reaction will decide the outcome of the battle.’

‘But what about you, Elethien?’ a Forester questioned.

‘I’ll enter the forest and protect its people from the enemy attack,’ she answered. ‘When all is done, we’ll meet here by daybreak.’

‘I’ll accompany you,’ Teion volunteered. ‘I don’t know what’s on your mind, but protecting an entire settlement by yourself is just—’

‘Do you not trust my abilities?’ Elethien glared. ‘The Foresters in the camp will need as much inspiration as they can. You’re more needed there, Teion.’

‘... As you wish,’ Teion gave in without too much hesitation.

‘What exactly do you think will happen, Elethien?’ another Forester asked. ‘You’re asking the twenty of us to sneak into and attack a camp with thousands of enemy troops. Without your wings to protect us, we’re going to die here.’

‘You won’t,’ Elethien sternly replied. ‘I will not allow any of us here to die before the kingdom is built.’

‘How are you so sure—’

Elethien pointed her ever-sharp sword at the Forester’s neck. ‘As long as Fate is on our side, none of us will die. This sword is our sign.’

The Forester retreated with a gulp.

‘Let’s go,’ Elethien said as she stood up. ‘The blessing of Fate be with us all.’

‘What did you say?’ Teion looked in confusion.

‘The blessing of Fate be with us all,’ Elethien repeated. ‘Say it, and Fate will be with us.’

‘... The blessing of Fate be with us all,’ Teion said slowly with the others soon following his lead.

With that, Elethien parted ways with the last team of Foresters, clumsily heading towards the forest on horseback as the air began to cool. Night was arriving.

After securing her horse to a tree away from the path, Elethien began her trek in the forest. It felt a little different from her home village, but from appearances alone, it was pretty much the same. Trees stretched to the sky, the canopy blocking off much of the light to the ground. At this time, the forest was practically pitch-black, and naturally, this was also when predators would emerge from their shelter, beginning their hunt for prey.

A rustle to her right. Instinctively, Elethien wrapped herself with her wings, just in time to block a pounce from a local predator. It looked like a panther of some sort, its claws sharp like knives and its fur perfectly blending into the environment. It had tumbled back from the sudden impact, whimpering in pain. Without much thought, she killed the predator with a single slash of her sword, kicking its body off into the bushes.

She had better prey to kill.

After a while, as she finally adjusted to the night, she noticed a collection of huts in the distance situated at a clearing. It was the settlement. Approaching closer, she saw a source of light: a bonfire at the centre of the settlement, the flickering flames offering heat to its surroundings.

The settlement was still quiet, thankfully. A bit too quiet, in fact.

She retracted her wings, the light from the energy earlier too obvious in giving away her position. The enemy didn’t seem to have arrived yet, but similarly, she couldn’t see a single Forester in the area. Her instincts as a warrior were not exactly giving her the best reassurance as well.

She arrived at the clearing. There wasn’t even a shadow nearby. The huts’ doors were all shut, expectedly, but there wasn’t even the slightest movement, peculiar considering how fragile those huts were.

Elethien wasn’t stupid. Any experienced warrior would recognise this as an ambush.

The six wings burst forth from her back once again, shielding her body from the incoming rain of arrows. Faces appeared everywhere, their expressions reflected from the fire. Despite the arrows all bouncing off upon contact with her wings, the enemy did not cease fire, pressuring her to curl up into a shell, unable to have any and all movement.

Then there were the hooves. As soon as the firing ceased, a tight line of cavalry came rushing, the warhorses barrelling towards her like mad demons brought forth from some hellish landscape, the soldiers above pointing their lances at her. Without time to dodge, she knelt down and braced for impact.

The horses, each weighing several times her own weight, tumbled over her, their legs crashing unceremoniously onto the muddy ground. The soldiers dismounted, some able to get their horses standing, while others only took a glance at their injured steeds before running back into the darkness.

Compared to everything around her, Elethien herself was unharmed. As she stood up, she noticed the layers upon layers of encirclement around her. They were all either brown or blue-eyed, each more well-armoured than she ever was, their weapons all pointed at one person: herself.

A man dressed in full plate armour rode up to her, his intricately decorated sword hanging by his waist. From a glance, she could already tell he was well-fed and had an air of authority around him, though it felt only amplified with the amount of troops surrounding her.

Individually, that man was most likely weak.

‘I didn’t expect to find the leader of the rebellion on her own,’ the man spoke, his voice a bit muffled behind his helmet. ‘Where are your accomplices?’

‘And who are you that I should tell you this?’ Elethien retorted.

‘Ha! You Foresters always have this tough air around you,’ the man chuckled. ‘Tell me, and I’ll perhaps spare your life.’

‘My life is given to me and blessed by Fate,’ she declared. ‘You have no power to take it.’

‘For a woman completely illiterate, you’re quite good with your words,’ the man said before looking to his right. ‘Shoot her.’

Not only arrows shot at her from all sides, javelins were also thrown at her. Having survived the initial ambush with ease, this was even simpler for her. All she had to do was to raise her wings up as shields.

Even when the wave was over, not a single arrow or javelin landed near her.

‘You have no power to take it,’ she repeated, pointing her sword provocatively at the man. ‘Now tell me your name.’

‘General Arael of Eril,’ the man answered. ‘Commander of all armies in this province, the province you and your accomplices have terrorised for the past weeks.’

‘... How many Foresters have you killed?’

‘What an interesting question,’ Arael said. ‘Civilians? None. Mercenaries? None, at least none from my own hand.’

Elethien gripped her sword tightly.

‘As per custom, I shall ask for your name as well,’ Arael continued. ‘Even though you are as foolish as all those rebellions that came before you, I have an obligation to know your name.’

‘Elethien,’ she replied. ‘King of the Foresters.’

Arael broke into laughter. ‘King? Do you even know how ridiculous that sounds?’ As if on cue, his soldiers also laughed, creating a rather annoying cacophony to Elethien’s ears. It was overly dramatic and fake, as if the only reason to do so was to belittle her.

They didn’t know Fate had already delivered them into her hands. This was what Fate meant when it commanded her to enter the forest.

To kill those who held no respect towards a god.

‘Phew…’ Arael finally stopped laughing after a while. ‘Anyway, now that I know your name, our small talk has come to an unfortunate end. Now, surrender yourself and your accomplices. Perhaps the king will be merciful to your uneducated brains and issue a lighter sentence.’

‘I refuse.’

‘And so what?’ Arael gestured for his soldiers. The next moment, dozens of green eyes appeared within Elethien’s view, their necks each held close to a knife.

‘By refusing surrender, you’re sacrificing this entire settlement. Not so good for your “kingdom”, is it?’ Arael mocked.

Elethien was silent. She sat down, closed her eyes and cupped her hands together in prayer.

What do you want me to do, my God?

There was no direct answer. But from that moment of silence, it was enough.

‘Tie her up,’ Arael ordered, a little puzzled by her seeming submission. ‘The silence means surrender.’

A group of soldiers came forth, one of them holding a thick rope to capture Elethien.

Ah, that’s right.

Blood trickled down from Elethien’s right eye.

They began lowering the rope down to her waist. Meanwhile, the other soldiers began to relax their hold against the Foresters.

I choose who to live and who to die.

She opened her eyes. Her right eye was pitch-black, its pupil a crimson red octagram. A similarly red tattoo appeared on her face just below the eye.

She swung her arm, sword in hand. Heads rolled onto the ground, the decapitated soldiers stunned for a moment before they toppled backwards, their bodies frozen in action.

‘General, run!’ a soldier screamed.

‘Huh—’ Arael gasped. The next moment, Elethien had cut him in half from the waist. Arael’s upper body fell to the ground first, followed shortly later by the lower half which tumbled off his horse.

And he screamed.

The soldiers began scrambling everywhere, dropping their weapons in panic. Elethien spread her wings, surrounding them with pure white energy. There was no exit. All this time, she had the calmness of an executioner, looking at the soldiers hammering at the wings, screaming and wailing to no avail. The Foresters, saved from near death, huddled together in groups, terrified at the rapid change of events.

How quick a situation could change with the death of the leader.

She had no idea how many she had cornered. A few hundred? Five hundred? Maybe even a thousand? She didn’t particularly care.

She was the king. She decided who could live, who could die.

And at this moment, she decided with an unnaturally tranquil mind, in order to protect the Foresters… she’d kill the Trelvenese. All of them.