Awaken (Hermitcraft Fanfiction)

XIX. Battlefield

TW: blood, injuries, fighting

It seemed she had been fighting for hours. Her chest ached as her wing muscles tired. Her sword was heavy and leaden in her grasp. Her hair – which she had painstakingly braided before the battle began – was unraveling into wisps and strands that were drenched in sweat. Small cuts littered her body from where soldiers had broken through her defense, and her sword was deep red with the blood of her enemies.

Pearl had no way of knowing how anyone else was faring. All she knew was the pain from a dozen cuts, the stench of blood and sweat, and the sting of salt in her eyes. She had no thoughts or emotions, just reactions. Every motion was a reflex or instinct designed for self-preservation or an enemy's death. Blood rushed in her ears, the small amounts of magic she had used in tight situations rendering her hearing useless. She could feel the universe's energy flowing around her. She allowed it to guide her, but she refused to let go and surrender to it lest she become corrupted.

The attacking Watchers fell beneath her sword, dying or never to rise again. Weapons glanced off her shield as she maneuvered it into the path of attacks. Her wings beat unsteadily, throwing her into wild dives or twists to avoid what she could not block. The obsidian armor merged with her clothing protected her from the spells that managed to land, and her sword rerouted the others.

However, Pearl knew she was tiring. The adrenaline rush she had felt at the beginning of the battle was fading as her body was unable to produce more. The cuts and bruises began to pound as the nullifying effects of epinephrine faded. She noticed herself becoming sloppier as several attacks made their way past her defenses, forcing her into a steep dive. The last one nicked her leg, and she bit back a howl of pain from the fire enchantment attached to the weapon.

She pulled out of her dive and grabbed her bow, drawing three arrows and knocking one. Her shots flew straight, entering vital spots on pursuing Watchers. She dropped lower, using the time her arrows bought to recover slightly.

An attack from behind seared her lower leg. She yelled, pivoting rapidly and shooting the offending Watcher from three meters away. The broadhead arrow punched through their armor and bone, skewering their heart and emerging from the other side. She twisted to the side as another Watcher caught up, slashing downward with their rapier. Four others trailed behind them, lined up to deal crushing sequential blows.

A snow-white blur shot past, a razor-thin cyan line trailing behind. Zeroc flared his wings and erupted out of his dive, slashing the air with his glaive and pulling the teal line forward. The Watchers were yanked forward into the clump, pinned by a blinding cyan shield in the shape of the Watchers' symbol.

Zeroc's movements could hardly be seen at their speed, critical hits pounding into his enemies. With a yell, the glaive descended a final time, smashing the shield and shattering the life the Watchers held within them. He flew out of the wreckage, magic flying off him in sparks, and hovered next to Pearl. His face was unreadable beneath the mask, and blood covered his features. It was plain it belonged to others. He commanded total mastery over his weapon to a level none could match.

"ENOUGH!" Xalyn's voice thundered through the Void as they and six of the council descended from their vantage point. None of them showed any sign of battle, although the weary soldiers in zigzagging lines before them displayed otherwise. Fighting ceased in another part of the Void where Yevir and Xelqua enacted a strictly defensive strategy against the invaders. The Watchers flew reluctantly back to their lines. Pearl was unsure whether their reluctance stemmed from bloodlust, revenge, or fear of the council.

"We have fought too long, and my patience has worn thin," Xalyn cried, glaring accusingly at Zeroc and Pearl. "Surrender to our demands or suffer the worst consequences known to Mojang."