Fire and Ice

Fire and Ice - part 15

Chapter 14

Sorry for the grammar and such, this was pretty rushed :( let me know if its ok.

 xx summer

Fire and Ice

I knew I was dreaming. I knew it wasn’t real. God, how many times had I seen this very scene. How many more must I live through?

The cold air was thick will men’s screams, battle cries torn from ragged throats. The sting of metal rang through the air as metal snaked up to meet its next opponent. Blood was a tangent smell upon the wind, the bitter smell burning my nose. I stood and watched, transfixed and unable to look away, my ghostly form going unnoticed by the men surrounding me. Side-stepping a fighting couple I took little notice as the man in blue fell with a weak cry, his last breath but a gurgle. I wasn’t being callous, the first time I had screamed for him, gone to my knees to try and pick him from the frozen ground, staunch the flow of blood from the ugly wound, by now I knew better than to try. Picking my way through the foray I winced instinctively as a blade cut through my body, the metal slicing through my abdomen with ease. Shuddering I rubbed a hand across my unmarked stomach, continuing forward. Just a few more meters, just one more turn…

I wanted to stop. Not again, I didn’t want to see.. not again. I couldn’t handle it! But as though controlled by some unknown force my body continued onwards, carrying me forwards. I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut and clap my hands over my ears. God, what I would do to shut it all out.

Please, not again.

A savage battle cry was screamed form beside me as two new opponents threw themselves at each other. There was no blood lust in their eyes, no overwhelming sense of country and patriotism. They were no longer Bacchii and Illton soldiers, fighting for their country. No. They were two men, battle sore and weary, terrified. The men in front of them had ceased to hold an identify beyond being a barrier standing between them and the chance to live, to return home and see their family once more.

Oh, the glory of war.

On cue my heart rate picked up and I felt a wave of nausea wash through me. This was it. Once I rounded the bend I knew what I would see. What I had been forced to watch so many times before.

‘Please, not again’ I begged silently, but my traitorous body continued onwards, finally rounding the corners, the scene falling into place in front of me like a sick slideshow.

They stood in the very middle, the men around them unconsciously backing away, forming a wide clearing around the two fighters. They continued to circle each other, unaware of my presence. I don’t know who moved first, it was all too quick, a blur of red and blue, the cry of two swords kissing and then it was quiet again and they stepped back, circling, searching for an opening. The world around me faded away as I stood, staring, transfixed by the scene before me, scalding tears coursing down my cheeks.

Oh, please make it stop.

The danced together, their swords parrying, blocking, darting back and forth. They were oblivious to their own surroundings, in this moment; everything else had ceased to exist. I couldn’t look away, my eyes fused to his form. Even now I couldn’t help but admire everything he was. His strength and prowess. The speed of his movements, unparalleled by anyone I had ever known. Until now. Even from my distance I could see the toll the fight was taking on his body, it was evident in his heavy breathing, the slight pause as his sword was raised a fraction of a second late. Suddenly the wind changed, the icy draught sending my hair fly and I felt my heart stop.

Oh no. No, no no no. Not again, not now.

I closed my eyes, resignation heavy on my soul. Waiting patiently I counted to five before slowly opening my eyes, despair sending me to my knees.

The familiar horn call blasted through the clearing, it’s clear note rising above the sounds of the battle below. Once, twice, a third time. Three quick sharp calls. A call for retreat.

And that was all it took, that moment of distraction. Snapping his head towards the sound he took in his men falling back, scrambling from the blades they could not compete with.

And it was in the second that his opponent struck. Lunging forward, a feral screaming ripping from his lungs. And I was forced to watch in slow motion, just like every other time. I watched to look of surprise cross his face, before the hot steal plunged into his chest.

I watched him fall to his knees, his own blade never leaving his hand.

Scrambling to my feet I ran across the frozen ground, silent screams ripping from my chest. Reaching him finally I fell to my knees, my hands frantically trying to find a grip. Hysterical, not caring that this wasn’t real, that there was nothing I could do I tried in vain to pull the sword from his chest, his name falling from my lips.

Finally I fell back onto my heels, looking on in despair as the colour left his cheeks, the red stain blooming, growing rapidly.

And it was then I realised something I never had before. His eyes, his beautiful brown eyes... were not unfocussed. While his body failed his eyes remained hard, staring past my own crumpled figure. Slowly, an irrational fear gripping my body I began to turn. And there he stood, directly behind me, so close that if I reached out I could touch him.

Shaking my head in confusion I stared at him. ‘What are you doing here’ I demanded weakly, struggling to my feet, my head swirling.

I didn’t understand, this had never happened before. I had lived his dream, this moment a thousand times, I knew how it worked, and this, he, was not part of the script.

I stood by helplessly, my head snapping back and forwards between the two men. Neither moved, their eyes locked on each other. A cold feeling of foreboding began settling over my stomach, my stomach rolling as I fought a wave of nausea.

Oh, oh no. Oh god no! I couldn’t be.

Stepping forward Tarlase dropped to one knee, his eyes now level with Asher’s.

For a moment I thought he would say something, anything, but I was wrong. Reaching forward his long slender fingers wrapped around the hilt of the sword still protruding from Asher’s chest, and in one fluid movement he pulled it easily from his body. With a groan Asher fell forwards onto to cold ground, his body giving out beneath him. Standing slowly, not bothering to clean the blood from his blade Tarlase re-sheathed the weapon, casting once last glance at his fallen enemy, before turning and walking away.

Oh please god, no.

~

I woke with a scream, my body upright in bed, my mouth open wide my agony poured forth.

It was just a dream I tried to reason, taking deep shuddering breaths to try and control my speeding heart. It was just a dream. But the more I tried to console myself the more hysterical I became. Distant footsteps were growing louder, thundering down the hallway and I knew my screams had woken someone, but I didn’t care.

Nothing mattered anymore, diving from my damp sheets I ran for the bathroom, my stomach finally rebelling as I threw up what little I had manage to eat at dinner.

Wiping my mouth I slid to the cool tiles of the floor, the sound of Rahoul and Nolan’s footfalls louder now. They would be here any moment. But I mattered not.

Nothing mattered anymore.

Tarlase had killed him. Tarlase was responsible for Asher’s death. The blood still wet on his hands.

Murderer.