It was a mix of darkness and fire that flashed with every step, shove, strike and stab we took.
My breathing was rapid and my lungs ached. The woman was insanely fast and skilled. The fight felt like a deadly dance of avoiding strikes and coordinating hits in return. A viper and a wolf. Except she was the viper, and she would be too fast for the dark wolf to avoid fangs being struck into its flesh. With each fluid step she drew closer and closer on the safe distance I had tried to maintain from her sharp rapier. I wielded the fire in my blades to burn stronger and fiercer. Her eyes were cold and ruthless. She landed a hard elbow on my jaw. Nearly knocking the sense of sight and hearing right out of me. The prince wasout of the tent and it relieved me. I could concentrate even better without him around. Resorting to defence and then back to offence was what my body responded with. The shadows around my mind seemed to dance in a numb state. Sensing all the pain this woman had gone through in her life. It was as if she saw something in my own eyes while fighting to the death that made her eyes soften. And in a swift moment that look was gone and replaced with harder hits and more fluid movements.
"Your fighting is good. But not good enough," the woman acknowledged before running headfirst and jumping onto me. I fell out of the tent with her on top. My breath being knocked out of me from the shocked weight of her and pain from the hard ground. In a moment of quick panic, I crossed my arms with my fire blades across my chest in an "X" to prevent her from sinking her blade into my chest. I let the blades burn the most it has ever burned, and the woman smirked when she saw the shock I held.
It wasn't burning her.
The flames didn't harm an inch of her. The woman gripped both my fire blades and sunk her hands into them to pull them apart from me. Her blood, green and dripping onto the fire blades."Witch,"I spat and struggled beneath her. I panted hard while she began turning the pointed blades of fire into my own chest. I grit my teeth and tried to resist with all my might. Holding onto the hilts of the blades tighter.You are death.The shadows in me commanded. I calmed my breathing and held the witch’s menacing stare. Shadows circled us and gripped the blades. Helping me turn it towards her. It kissed the thick black leather of her arm and began sinking in. I grunted and shoved down harder, watching the green blood begin to seep out. She snarled and pulled away from me. I spat out the red metallic taste of blood on the ground. I kneeled on one knee and breathed heavily. Catching as much of my breath as I possibly could.
"Apollon blood will be spilt. And not even you will be able to prevent it." The woman held her bleeding palm to her also bleeding chest.
"They have all of the lands as allies by their side," I answered as a threat and finally stood up. Staring her down, watching her every shift in move.
"You are fighting for the wrong side." The woman cocked her in confusion, trying to figure me out. "The next time I see you, if you are fighting alongside them, I vow to kill you." I controlled my facial expression and refused the urge to say that none of this was my choice.
"There won't be a next time." I gripped the blade in my hand tighter. The woman chuckled and the sudden loud shouts from soldiers erupted, commands from the prince were echoed, a mere distraction. One moment she was there. Now... she was gone. She had escaped. And that only meant the chances of me seeing her again were even stronger now. The thought didn't sit well with me, my adrenaline dissipated, making my body ache more with the injuries I just attained.
Chapter 42
Apollo
"There is history as old as time itself that can only be found within the Golden Castle. History that is kept hidden for the very truth could destroy us all."
The following text has been transcribed in an oath of truth by Volda Keely Darkblood of the Darkblood Witch Coven.
The original text has been destroyed upon command from the High King of Apollo, Solaire Gideon.
When every Apollon soldier had searched for the witch and found no sign of her, they immediately packed up as per the prince's command. Leaving no room for rest and continuing the journey to the border of Apollo. I frowned in embarrassment when I remembered the look the prince had given me when he saw my bloodied face. How he gripped my jaw and studied the bruises and called upon the medic guard to 'fix up' the mess. He looked disappointed. Upset. Annoyed. And I felt confused. It felt like a slap in the face to realise this feeling is the exact feeling I got when I failed at my training in the arena, when I failed to do my missions, when I had failed Fala. This sudden knowingness made my shoulders sink down. Others would think it might have been the ache in my injuries or even the sweltering heat from the Apollon sun. Red had seemed too tired to talk, he looked exhausted from the travel.
The Oakenhold Forest was a maze and to my surprise, Akiel seemed more accustomed to travelling around these parts of Terran. He led accurately in the clear direction of where the sun shone brightest. Where the heat became nearly searing. We tracked our way through the rocky banks of the forest, making our way down a clear path that looked like it was used often. "Hulin, are we close?" Red groaned in exhaustion to the tracker beside him.
"We're here, boy. Look." Hulin nodded in the direction that both Red and I looked in.
"Oh my..." Red gasped in awe.
"Gods," I answered.
The bright golden flags and tents of the kingdom's army were beneath the steep bank we now crossed. Something close to dread filled me when I saw how far the army had stretched across the land. It seemed never ending. They filled the land with distant rough shouts and fires lit. Creating an immense amount of smoke in the air. Hundreds of thousands of soldiers.All at the king's disposal... And from far I could see it, high up in the land. Still, a great distance to be met... It was magnificent. Gilded. And gleaming. The Golden Castle where the king ruled with his light. The shadows in me were silent. I gripped my reins tighter, the horse beneath me not sensing my anxiety. It must have felt satisfaction to be back at home I suppose. The prince was silent—stiff. Tense. His posture too upright. He was different... He looked cruel and dangerous. Dangerous enough to take down anyone that stood in his way. He looked like the royal Prince of Apollo, the way he should be. The way I had always thought he would be. The soldier behind me sounded the royal horn, alerting all the soldiers in the vicinity of their arrival. The soldiers were strategic and well trained when hearing the sound of the horn. Gathering in lines to salute their royal prince who had just arrived. Whispers travelled around. "Has he chosen his bodyguard?"
"Which one is it?"
"Look down—or he will have our heads." The voices quietened upon the arrival of their prince who made his way past them with his magnificent white stallion. The soldiers' forecasted eyes now rose to look at me. My body straightened on its own accord.
"Is that supposed to be the prince's guard?"
"No, must be his whore."
"She's wearing the armour of a warrior."
I bit the inside of my cheek and ignored the brutes. That's what they all were, just battle heads. The group of soldiers behind me turned in another direction, to the eastern troop of the army. All that remained of us were: Akiel and Hulin, the trackers. The prince’s head guard, Inanov with Red by his side. Colfe the royal advisor and lastly me. The bodyguard of the prince.
The prince trekked his way to the biggest tent that the land occupied. Where a rugged stern-faced man awaited us. He had a large old scar that must have looked grotesque when it hadfirst marked his face, the scar stretched from his right cheekbone all the way across to his chin. He wore strong armour and wasn't afraid to meet the prince's eye. The very same eyes that travelled to everyone in the group and then lastly to me. Where he looked at my armour and then frowned. His distaste for me already known and seen. "Welcome back from your travels, Your Highness." The scarred man sounded insincere and looked as if he was trying his best to hold back a spit of disrespect on the ground.
"I'd prefer you call them conquests, Cillian," the prince responded emotionlessly, looking down at the scarred man.
"Ah—yes. Why it genuinely must have been a conquest if you're counting the whore behind you." Cillian nodded in my direction. Rage filled me and the fire in my blades ached to be used. The prince's jaw ticked. Cillian noticed this and smiled. It made all the more sense why the prince kept his emotions reigned in.
"You'd have yourself beheaded for making that statement to the royal bodyguard of Apollo... even if you are the war general of the kingdom."
