Fhirdiad Outskirts - Late Afternoon - Clear
Sorcha Blaiddyd
“Viscountess Kleiman?" Of all the people to appear here, so clearly intent on their capture or death, she had to admit she'd expected the Viscountess almost least of all. Céleste had seemed the power-hungry sort, to be sure, but there was scarcely an aristocrat in the Kingdom who wasn't. Even Rodrigue had his share of ambition, though he'd never let it harden him in the way some others had.
Unless—
Could he have something to do with this? The number of people who'd even known about this meeting was slim. If there was a traitor among them, it was from a small and very unlikely list.
As if in response, Devon raised his bow and fired at another of the soldiers from horseback. A reminder to Sorcha, that these at least were unquestionably her allies, her friends, and she needed to keep them alive. The meeting with Rufus was a bust, if it had ever been anything but a sham to begin with, and their job now was to escape alive. Easier said than done, with the thick rain of arrow fire, as though the soldiers had known she might try to take to the air.
She kept Lady grounded instead, firing back even as the main line of soldiers advanced. “Cover!" she shouted. “We need cover!" Else it would not only be poor Libi who was shot to death.
“A pleasure as always, Your Highness," Céleste spoke. Senka was engaged with no fewer than three soldiers, eyes full of rage and pain as she defended herself, but Céleste rose a hand to call back the attack. It only seemed for a moment, though, so she could speak. “Worry not, Sorcha. I am not here to kill you, yet," she spoke, her eyes shifting towards Senka.
“All you need to do is swear your fealty to me, Senka Rinaldi," she sneered, a smile pulling at her lips. How she knew Senka's surname, though, wasn't clear. “I've searched everywhere for you. Swear yourself to me, and I promise no harm will come to your dear princess," she continued, raising a sword in Sorcha's direction.
“I cannot guarantee her safety, nor theirs, if you do not." Senka visibly flinched as her eyes searched for Sorcha's.
What? What in the Eternal Flames was this woman talking about? Still—maybe the thing to do right now was to keep her talking. It might buy some time...
Sorcha met eyes with Devon, quickly flicking hers to Sylvi and hoping he understood before addressing Céleste. “What do you mean, swear herself? Sen's not anyone's vassal, and you're out of your mind if you think we'd ever jeopardize the chance of a free Duscur to make things easier for me." It was the principle she held most strongly to, the one reason she was still fighting for her throne at all, really. Because she'd promised Senka she'd give her country back, and that hers would pay due reparations for what they had done.
Beneath her, Lady stirred, clearly uncomfortable. Sorcha couldn't blame her. Pegasi were smart enough to understand speech. Smart enough not to talk, her father had used to say. She had to sense the danger they were in.
“You misunderstand me, princess. She is the last line to royalty. With her, I'd be able to add Duscur soldiers to my ranks without having to force them. Unlike your country, her people love her. And they would do anything for her. You honestly think I'd do this, otherwise, under Cornelia's wishes? She is a vile woman, and why you have placed so much trust in her is beyond me. With Senka as my wife, not only does she get Duscur back, but you live as well. Because then you would be safe with us," Céleste stated as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Senka looked baffled by the claim, and Sorcha could see her hesitate.
“Whether or not you live is not up to me. It is Senka's choice," she continued, her eyes going back to Senka.
Not up to her, her ass. Sorcha Whistled sharply, a particular tone and pitch that signaled the retreat. Sylvi and Devon, prepared for it, wheeled their horses into a sprint immediately, and Sorcha turned Lady, shouldering her bow and using her lance to knock an arrow out of the sky. Extending her free hand towards Senka, she flicked her eyes up towards the soldiers.
“C'mon, Sen, we've got to go!" She had confidence in her mount's speed, once they were in the air, but getting there was going to be the tricky part, especially once the archers had stopped firing after Sylvi and Devon and refocused on the other two.
Senka's eyes widened in fear as she took a step back. “Sorcha... I can't," she stated, shaking her head as she took another step back from Lady. “Go. Leave me, I'll buy you time," she stated, gripping Blutgang in her hands as she glanced between Sorcha and the soldiers who were marching forward.
“Please. Go."
“Sen, you have to. We've done this before, you remember?" Sorcha heard a bowstring draw back and sucked in a breath, throwing up the best white magic shield she had. It broke a few arrows before shattering, and she turned back to Senka with urgency.
She couldn't help but recall it now, a night a much-younger version of herself had helped a much, younger, half-delirious version of Senka onto a different pegasus, to fly her all the way from the city of Duscur to Fhirdiad. She'd done it once, and she could do it again.
“I'm not leaving you here to die!"
Senka smiled at Sorcha, the first genuine one she'd been able to since that day, a year ago. It was warm, and soft, and full of something. An emotion of sorts, perhaps. It was clear that Senka planned on doing something; Sorcha could tell by the way her hand shifted with Blutgang.
“Live," was the only thing Senka spoke before the glow of her Crest on her forehead appeared and she charged towards the throng of soldiers. She seemed to be drawing the power of her Crest and Crest Stone from Blutgang at a rapid pace. She felled a couple of the first soldiers, her Crest kicking up wind around her. It almost looked as if she intended to overtax it like Maurice had, however; before she could do anything further, a sword blossomed from her abdomen, and another near her chest. The one in her chest was so close to her heart, that it was possible that it nicked it.
The wind that had picked up around Senka, died down, as her eyes widened. Celeste looked livid, though, and she grabbed the nearest soldier's bow.
“What have you done!" she shouted, firing two quick arrows into the throats of the soldiers whose weapons were in Senka. She fell to her knees, though, Blutgang falling to her side as her gaze was fixed ahead. Sorcha could see a soft shudder in her body as Senka seemed to smile. She seemed to whisper something, but Sorcha was too far to hear what it was.
“You idiot!" Only then did Sorcha's body catch up with her mind; she leaped down from Lady and ran to Senka, trying desperately to lift her friend's weight. She didn't so much cast healing magic as she simply let the energy bleed out of her body, sink into Senka, trying desperately to keep her alive, keep her heart beating, even as she shifted her arms beneath her friends and began the arduous task of dragging her backwards.
The glare she gave Céleste was positively venomous, and her upper lip pulled back into a snarl. “Leave!" she shouted, nothing but her bravado and sheer spite fueling her now. She'd never wished more than her Crest would give her strength, but she activated it anyway, the air around her shimmering with light. Her eyes were bright—tears or magic, it was hard to say. “You've failed, betrayed your country, and doomed us all! The Imperials will break us in two, and you've just exposed the fault line! To the flames with every last one of you!"
Her foot hit a stone, and she staggered, falling backwards and hitting her head hard on the ground. “Sen," she croaked, refusing to relinquish her grip even as she struggled to sit. “Don't fucking tell me to live, Sen. Don't tell me to do that and then try so hard to die!"
It didn't seem to register to Senka, though, as her eyes dulled. She lifted a bloodied hand to place it on Sorcha's face. “You. Not me. Live," she spoke softly, but it was easy to tell that even that much was a great effort to Senka. “You're my best friend, Sorcha," she whispered softly, the same smile still on her face, and a strangely peaceful expression crossed her face.
“And I love you more than... anything. Thank you. This... this is my debt being paid to you, in full. Please... go. Please... live," she spoke slowly, as if every word was painful, but she still smiled. Her hand fell from Sorcha's face, then, but Senka seemed to still struggle to breathe.
“It doesn't matter, foolish girl," Céleste spoke as soldiers caught up to them. They leveled lances and swords in their direction, but Céleste held a hand up as if to keep them from moving any further. “What awaits you is a fate worse than death. You should have taken my offer, foolish Senka. You should have taken it..." there was something in Céleste's voice, regret, perhaps, but her eyes were steeled and she motioned for two of the soldiers to take Senka from Sorcha.
“You've no one left to protect you, princess. Your friends who escaped will be caught, and then you'll have no one. And I have not failed at all, you see. Her death will not be in vain. It was not I who dealt the blow, but Faerghus. As if those in Duscur needed any other reason to hate Faerghus already... they will hear my plea and they will align themselves with me." She seemed fairly confident in her ability to use Sen's imminent death to her advantage.
Carefully setting Senka down, Sorcha rose to her feet, heedless of the lances pointed at her. Indeed, she gripped her own all the tighter.
“Want to see how many of you it takes to kill a Blaiddyd?" The air around her all but crackled, the glow of her Crest on her arm a burning, bright thing, and then it was like the world just... slowed down. Like everyone else was moving through water and Sorcha was the only one still in open air.
She took a deep breath, hefted her lance in both hands, and lunged.
Unless—
Could he have something to do with this? The number of people who'd even known about this meeting was slim. If there was a traitor among them, it was from a small and very unlikely list.
As if in response, Devon raised his bow and fired at another of the soldiers from horseback. A reminder to Sorcha, that these at least were unquestionably her allies, her friends, and she needed to keep them alive. The meeting with Rufus was a bust, if it had ever been anything but a sham to begin with, and their job now was to escape alive. Easier said than done, with the thick rain of arrow fire, as though the soldiers had known she might try to take to the air.
She kept Lady grounded instead, firing back even as the main line of soldiers advanced. “Cover!" she shouted. “We need cover!" Else it would not only be poor Libi who was shot to death.
“A pleasure as always, Your Highness," Céleste spoke. Senka was engaged with no fewer than three soldiers, eyes full of rage and pain as she defended herself, but Céleste rose a hand to call back the attack. It only seemed for a moment, though, so she could speak. “Worry not, Sorcha. I am not here to kill you, yet," she spoke, her eyes shifting towards Senka.
“All you need to do is swear your fealty to me, Senka Rinaldi," she sneered, a smile pulling at her lips. How she knew Senka's surname, though, wasn't clear. “I've searched everywhere for you. Swear yourself to me, and I promise no harm will come to your dear princess," she continued, raising a sword in Sorcha's direction.
“I cannot guarantee her safety, nor theirs, if you do not." Senka visibly flinched as her eyes searched for Sorcha's.
What? What in the Eternal Flames was this woman talking about? Still—maybe the thing to do right now was to keep her talking. It might buy some time...
Sorcha met eyes with Devon, quickly flicking hers to Sylvi and hoping he understood before addressing Céleste. “What do you mean, swear herself? Sen's not anyone's vassal, and you're out of your mind if you think we'd ever jeopardize the chance of a free Duscur to make things easier for me." It was the principle she held most strongly to, the one reason she was still fighting for her throne at all, really. Because she'd promised Senka she'd give her country back, and that hers would pay due reparations for what they had done.
Beneath her, Lady stirred, clearly uncomfortable. Sorcha couldn't blame her. Pegasi were smart enough to understand speech. Smart enough not to talk, her father had used to say. She had to sense the danger they were in.
“You misunderstand me, princess. She is the last line to royalty. With her, I'd be able to add Duscur soldiers to my ranks without having to force them. Unlike your country, her people love her. And they would do anything for her. You honestly think I'd do this, otherwise, under Cornelia's wishes? She is a vile woman, and why you have placed so much trust in her is beyond me. With Senka as my wife, not only does she get Duscur back, but you live as well. Because then you would be safe with us," Céleste stated as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Senka looked baffled by the claim, and Sorcha could see her hesitate.
“Whether or not you live is not up to me. It is Senka's choice," she continued, her eyes going back to Senka.
Not up to her, her ass. Sorcha Whistled sharply, a particular tone and pitch that signaled the retreat. Sylvi and Devon, prepared for it, wheeled their horses into a sprint immediately, and Sorcha turned Lady, shouldering her bow and using her lance to knock an arrow out of the sky. Extending her free hand towards Senka, she flicked her eyes up towards the soldiers.
“C'mon, Sen, we've got to go!" She had confidence in her mount's speed, once they were in the air, but getting there was going to be the tricky part, especially once the archers had stopped firing after Sylvi and Devon and refocused on the other two.
Senka's eyes widened in fear as she took a step back. “Sorcha... I can't," she stated, shaking her head as she took another step back from Lady. “Go. Leave me, I'll buy you time," she stated, gripping Blutgang in her hands as she glanced between Sorcha and the soldiers who were marching forward.
“Please. Go."
“Sen, you have to. We've done this before, you remember?" Sorcha heard a bowstring draw back and sucked in a breath, throwing up the best white magic shield she had. It broke a few arrows before shattering, and she turned back to Senka with urgency.
She couldn't help but recall it now, a night a much-younger version of herself had helped a much, younger, half-delirious version of Senka onto a different pegasus, to fly her all the way from the city of Duscur to Fhirdiad. She'd done it once, and she could do it again.
“I'm not leaving you here to die!"
Senka smiled at Sorcha, the first genuine one she'd been able to since that day, a year ago. It was warm, and soft, and full of something. An emotion of sorts, perhaps. It was clear that Senka planned on doing something; Sorcha could tell by the way her hand shifted with Blutgang.
“Live," was the only thing Senka spoke before the glow of her Crest on her forehead appeared and she charged towards the throng of soldiers. She seemed to be drawing the power of her Crest and Crest Stone from Blutgang at a rapid pace. She felled a couple of the first soldiers, her Crest kicking up wind around her. It almost looked as if she intended to overtax it like Maurice had, however; before she could do anything further, a sword blossomed from her abdomen, and another near her chest. The one in her chest was so close to her heart, that it was possible that it nicked it.
The wind that had picked up around Senka, died down, as her eyes widened. Celeste looked livid, though, and she grabbed the nearest soldier's bow.
“What have you done!" she shouted, firing two quick arrows into the throats of the soldiers whose weapons were in Senka. She fell to her knees, though, Blutgang falling to her side as her gaze was fixed ahead. Sorcha could see a soft shudder in her body as Senka seemed to smile. She seemed to whisper something, but Sorcha was too far to hear what it was.
“You idiot!" Only then did Sorcha's body catch up with her mind; she leaped down from Lady and ran to Senka, trying desperately to lift her friend's weight. She didn't so much cast healing magic as she simply let the energy bleed out of her body, sink into Senka, trying desperately to keep her alive, keep her heart beating, even as she shifted her arms beneath her friends and began the arduous task of dragging her backwards.
The glare she gave Céleste was positively venomous, and her upper lip pulled back into a snarl. “Leave!" she shouted, nothing but her bravado and sheer spite fueling her now. She'd never wished more than her Crest would give her strength, but she activated it anyway, the air around her shimmering with light. Her eyes were bright—tears or magic, it was hard to say. “You've failed, betrayed your country, and doomed us all! The Imperials will break us in two, and you've just exposed the fault line! To the flames with every last one of you!"
Her foot hit a stone, and she staggered, falling backwards and hitting her head hard on the ground. “Sen," she croaked, refusing to relinquish her grip even as she struggled to sit. “Don't fucking tell me to live, Sen. Don't tell me to do that and then try so hard to die!"
It didn't seem to register to Senka, though, as her eyes dulled. She lifted a bloodied hand to place it on Sorcha's face. “You. Not me. Live," she spoke softly, but it was easy to tell that even that much was a great effort to Senka. “You're my best friend, Sorcha," she whispered softly, the same smile still on her face, and a strangely peaceful expression crossed her face.
“And I love you more than... anything. Thank you. This... this is my debt being paid to you, in full. Please... go. Please... live," she spoke slowly, as if every word was painful, but she still smiled. Her hand fell from Sorcha's face, then, but Senka seemed to still struggle to breathe.
“It doesn't matter, foolish girl," Céleste spoke as soldiers caught up to them. They leveled lances and swords in their direction, but Céleste held a hand up as if to keep them from moving any further. “What awaits you is a fate worse than death. You should have taken my offer, foolish Senka. You should have taken it..." there was something in Céleste's voice, regret, perhaps, but her eyes were steeled and she motioned for two of the soldiers to take Senka from Sorcha.
“You've no one left to protect you, princess. Your friends who escaped will be caught, and then you'll have no one. And I have not failed at all, you see. Her death will not be in vain. It was not I who dealt the blow, but Faerghus. As if those in Duscur needed any other reason to hate Faerghus already... they will hear my plea and they will align themselves with me." She seemed fairly confident in her ability to use Sen's imminent death to her advantage.
Carefully setting Senka down, Sorcha rose to her feet, heedless of the lances pointed at her. Indeed, she gripped her own all the tighter.
“Want to see how many of you it takes to kill a Blaiddyd?" The air around her all but crackled, the glow of her Crest on her arm a burning, bright thing, and then it was like the world just... slowed down. Like everyone else was moving through water and Sorcha was the only one still in open air.
She took a deep breath, hefted her lance in both hands, and lunged.