The guard walks towards me, his sword in hand and a sly grin across his face. I gasp, my pulse quickening rapidly, and I try to move but something is holding me still, gripping my arms away from my body.
The sword opens a wound from one side of my waist to the other and I scream in agony. The guard laughs at my misery, tossing his sword smugly in his right hand.
He stabs again but this time, the sword reaches between my eyes. It glints in the setting sun before its tip meets the back of my skull. There are no screams from me, shock has made that impossible, but it can't stop the pain.
And when I fall to the ground, I hear painfully happy cheers around me and I can see supple leather shoes around me, stuffed with dirt. The Outlanders. Do they cheer for my death? Pain builds up inside of me, tearing me in a way I thought not possible.
I should be dead. I want to be dead. Anything to stop this hurt.
I try to close my eyes-- to shut out the cheers, but when I do they only get louder. And they are no longer cheering-- they're screaming. High-pitched wailing fills my ears while I feel everything around me burn. Hot furnace winds strike me in the face and the crackling of fire comes to me.
A dream! I tell myself. This is only a dream! The fire eats me, licking my skin with its flames. My flesh starts to scorch and the smell of burnt hair and the taste of smoke starts to feel my nose and mouth.
All I can see is pitch darkness-- devouring me like the fire. I want to scream but when I do, no sound comes. Death, give me that. Anything is better than this hell.
As if the gods hear me, the heat tickles away but the scorch is still there, the blisters marking into my skin. The blackness--slowly-- starts to ebb away, splotches fading away into nothing like clear water washing away stained ones. Sight comes to me finally, a blurred and grainy image of something on top of me.
The figure says something and stopped when I groan at the sudden headache. It pounds in my head, hammering with a great force. The blur fades away gradually and a soft hand brushes my hair away from my eyes.
"Let the pain past, do not fight it," a familiar raspy voice tells me.
I suck in a breath when I finally see the once blurry figure on top of me. She looks down with a small smile, her lips adding wrinkles to her face. "Naerys," I whisper.
"You have been suffering for a long time, Cathellyn. Don't move too much," she says kindly.
Despite her words, I try miserably to sit up, stopping with a gasp at the stabbing pain in my stomach. I look down to see it bandaged. That will leave a scar. Bastard guard. My tongue feels as if it is made of sand and my whole body aches.
I let my body drop back onto the hard straw bed. It's not even a bed, just a thick lining of straw against the tile. "How long have I been sleeping?"
Naerys looks at me. "Two months, though I wouldn't prefer to call it sleeping."
I stifle a gasp as my heart stops. "Two months?" I repeat her.
She nods solemnly, a frown on her face. "Many things happened when you were.. sleeping."
My heart suddenly shakes and I look towards Naerys. Please, no. "Naerys, what happened? The Outlanders-- are they dead? Did the Valarians come? How many died? Naerys, please--"
"Do not fear, girl. A few souls are lost, but most of them are safe."
"How? The Valarians would be furious." They would wipe out the entire land.
"They were when you killed the guard. Cathellyn, you know how the Valarians are-- they take it as an insult and sent more soldiers into the Outlands." How many died, I wanted to say but she keeps going.
Her gaze goes dark. "I saw it. The massacre. Blood was everywhere, you should be glad you were here. Bodies littered and yet-- only one of them is from the Outlands, the others were the Valarian soldiers."
I stayed my gaze towards her. "The Outlanders fought back," I whisper more to myself than to her. They finally did.
"I come back to civilization, and this is what they do," she huffs. "People never change."
"But how? We don't have the armies."
"They hired people from other lands, people that are willing to die next to them. Your people pitched whatever they had that can be sold-- plates, hidden iron, wheat. They arrived at the harbor weeks ago, swords and all," she meets my eye. "They blocked the bridge connecting to Valaria. No one can come into it and no one can come out. It seems that the Outlanders might stand a chance."
I break the gaze, staring upwards to the ceiling as I feel something rise inside of me-- fear or hope, I do not know. "A chance," I sigh. A chance of freedom. A chance of justice. A chance of failure, a chance of death.
"You fighting the Valarians was the spark of this," Naerys says in a low voice.
"Is this my fault?" I whisper to the cold air. I feel it prickling on my skin and I take comfort from it, hoping it will protect me from the fire before.
"No, girl-- it's not your fault. This would happen someday, your actions just made it quicker."
I shake my head slowly. The people, they'll die because of me. Because I gave them false hope.
Naerys sighs. "Your thoughts now will mean nothing. It won't stop them," she says in a calm tone.
Silence hangs in the room like a death sentence. How many will die for an unsure destiny? How many children will weep for their parents after this is all over? Will there even be children left?
And if we win the royal family of Valaria is surely to die; Ariella, Caspien and.. Ethan. My heart stops beating for a moment. Oh gods, Ethan. I haven't seen him in two months. He must've already heard of the Outlanders' rebellion. Does he know about me lying in a bed of straw with a gash? Is he alright? Is he preparing to go to war? Pain spreads through me but now it's not from the gash but from the ache in my heart.
"Naerys," I call out weakly and her head turns to me. "I want to go out, I want to see them."
She frowns. "You still have to heal."
I support myself on my elbows, feeling the slight shake in it and force myself to be eye to eye with Naerys. Her eyes bore into mine. "I know--" I wince when I sit up straight, the wound burning. "But I still want to see them." I want to see what they have done.
Naerys looks to me silently for a moment. "As you wish." And she stands up easily despite her age. I will be the one struggling now.
It's hard and the pain spreads until I feel as if I cannot use my legs anymore but with Naerys' help I manage to stand up on wobbly legs. She gives me a tunic which I struggle myself into.
With a slow pace, we manage to reach the door and she flung it open, the autumn air with a spark of winter hits me with both a caress and a punch.
The sound of people talking to each other fills my ears and the sight of the round moon against the black of night calms me. Torches illuminate the pathways with people and unfamiliar faces outside, drinking and laughing with axes and daggers on their waists. It seems like that the foreign army fits in here well.
The Outlanders laugh, happy as if there's no war on the horizon. Their mood both warms and confuses me. They're happy. For a time they are finally free from the Valarians. And I can't help but smile for them.
Father would've loved this, the singing, the laughter, the freedom. Even the air feels as if it is easier to breathe in despite the coming winter-- yes he would love this very much. The cold doesn't seem to bother me when the wind kisses my cheek, the warmth that they gave out is enough.
Nobody notices me yet, they are too distracted with their mugs of ale and I take comfort in our unseen situation. Comfort seeps into me, the gash still burning but only slightly. This warmth, this divine feeling reminds me of the Winter Festival. A celebration, a thanks.
"The Outlanders might stand a chance," Naerys' words ring inside my mind. They will not fail with this many people. I haven't seen a war in my life but I know the numbers are important, and so is loyalty.
When I see the soldiers and the Outlanders, arm around each other's shoulders, something in me tells that they will not betray us. They are friends now. And when we win most of them will stay here. The land is their price of war. No, they are now brothers.
"Cathellyn!" Nala calls from the front of the baker's house when she sees me. Happiness is shown in her face, and I smile for her when she comes running and jumps to hug me. I lean down as low as I could to capture her.
She throws her small arms around my neck and pulls me low into her hug. She smelt of warm bread and pie when I bury my face into her red hair. "I'm so happy that you woke up!"
Comfort fills my heart to the brink and for a moment there is no threat of war or people that are starting to stare at us. I hear her little giggle as I close my eyes. "Oh, you're alright. You're alright," I mutter in repeat, kissing her cheeks. I have forgotten about the fire girl. She would be the first one that the Valarians capture.
We stay there for a moment, her face buried into my tunic and mine in her fire of a hair. My stiff arms relax around her small figure.
"Cathellyn," Naerys whispers, calm but an urgent tone lining it. I blink to the hundreds of eyes now surrounding me, staring at me with anticipation. The Outlanders and the foreigns-- they are all looking at me, their faces almost a shadow in the night. I sigh quietly before pushing Nala away and standing up to meet their eyes.
Naerys is next to me, and though her back is hunched, she carries herself as tall as the Outlanders. She was a Valarian. They always have their sense of pride even in their worst figures. Naerys' presence feels secure to me under the hundreds of eyes watching us. Her confidence hides my uneasiness.
A familiar man steps forward, an almost rusted sword at the side of his full belly and a smile on his face. "She is woken! The brave girl!" The baker shouts out and the crowd erupts with cheers.
Brave girl? I say to myself. Is that what they're calling me?
Some of them raise their drinks high in the air and clash them with others that is doing the same. I smile at their supports, but I can see some of the uneasy faces in the crowds, scowls instead of smiles.
The baker comes forward, hugs me closely and I groan when his flop belly brushes against my bandaged wound. But then I hear him whisper against my ear, "Do not deny your loyalty to the people." And he pulls away with a smile as if he spoke nothing. My mouth turns dry and the smile I was wearing drops the slightest.
Does he mean--
One of the people that was not cheering in the crowd shouts out something, shutting the roars. A man with dirty blond hair walks up, looking at me with almost hate in his eyes. The clashes of drinks have stopped and now they focused on the man with confused faces. And when the crowd is completely silent he begins to talk."I don't trust her," he says. "I don't trust this.. brave girl."
My eyebrows crease together and he keeps looking at me. "She helped the Valarian girl!" Ariella. He's now talking to the crowds, turning his heads to them and some of the people nods to each other, some keeps on listening. "She is friends with the Valarians. How do we know that she will not betray us?"
I step forward, ignoring the pain. I understand baker's words. "I killed the Valarian guard," I internally groan at myself on my lazy tone.
"It's because he was going to kill that little girl!" He points at Nala who flares up immediately.
"I'm not little! And the lady was kind and nice!" Nala retorts, her loud squeak of a voice attracting the crowds and not before long she scurries back to her father with a red face.
"How do we know that you are with us?" He asks. His voice is sincere, lined with suspicion. The man really wants to know, I realize, the side I choose may affect the war in ways I can never imagine.
I raise my chin high. "How do we know that you will not betray us?"
The blond man snarls. "I was born here and I was raised here. This land is my home and where I will die. I am loyal to the Outlands."
I look into his grey eyes. "And so am I. But yet you question my loyalty just because I have one friend in the Valaria that was dying and needed saving." Two. Two friends and one lover. "Loyalty can waver with gold. The Valarians could pay you a large sum and the words you said before will be gone like the wind."
His face is pink with blush and the man grits his teeth together. "Gold cannot pay for what they have taken from me. My sister starved at home because of their stupid prince's feast!"
I feel a sharp pain in my chest. I was there eating with them, laughing and drinking. With Valarians, our enemy. And my own people lie in their homes with their belly empty. Now I understand why they call me a traitor. I've been so selfish, and now I cannot turn back from them, not anymore.
"And Phillip Anders died because of the truth," his face stiffens at the mention of Father. "My father," I turn to the crowd. "My father was the first to rebel against King Badgur and he died because he stood up too early," I remember the king's words at Caspien's feast. Your father said that I was not his ruler which is a very stupid statement, you agree? And my hand trembles slightly.
"They killed my father!" I tell the people of the Outlands. They remember him. They have to remember him. "The Valarians killed my father! And you expect me to be on their side?"
Their faces start to soften a little and the baker talks hastily. "Cathellyn is one of us. She is born and bred here, she will not betray us," he tells them. The blond man looks defeated. "Now we have more swords to sharpen, so go on with you all lazy bastards!" The baker says with a smile.
The crowd laughs at his jest and the tension loses its thickness. They disperse, along with the blond man to better their weapons and the baker stays.
"You have to be a lot more convincing than that," Naerys says after they all are away, leaving only the baker and her and Nala by my side. I have forgotten she was even here.
The baker gives her a confused look. "She won't have to if she is really on our side," then he turns to me and I feel my self stiffen. "You are, aren't you?"
My tongue turns to sand but I manage to croak out a "yes." It feels even worse to lie to him than to the crowd. The baker was one of the people that helped me when Father died. I owe him much, but I could not even give him the truth.
I do not know what side I am on. If I choose either side, death will follow anyways. There is no way out if this.
The cobblestone paths all lead to the square and that is where Naerys goes after scoffing at me. It is not too far but I cannot see whatever is in the square. Shame and guilt rile up in me. Now Naerys is angry with me.
"My family-- are they alright?" I ask the baker.
"They are. Bronya makes sure they have food," he answers, his hand scratching his red beard. After a short goodbye, Nala scurries away when is called by her mother.
I and the baker stand silent for a moment, everything seeping into me slowly along with the cold air. "What will happen?" I finally ask.
The baker sighs. "We will have to find a way to get into Valaria. They won't expect us or our number. Then we take the city for ourselves."
"And hundreds of people will die." Both Outlanders and Valarians.
"Cathellyn," he says sternly. "If we do not rebel now, they will take more of our people's lives. At least if they die in the battle, their death will help the future children when we win."
"If we win."
"We will. We have more people and the foreigners are trained soldiers. We won't lose." His eyes darken. "We can't."
He understands the price. Yet he is still willing to do this. I remember the time before I met Ethan, my hatred for the Valarians, how they caged us and killed the father. I should hate the Valarians the most.
The baker looks to me, pats my shoulder. "This will gain our freedom." And he walks away, leaving me alone and conflicted.
My feet seem to be stuck to the paths as the autumn leaves brushes against my brow and sways down to my feet. I want to see Ethan. I want him to hold me near again. He will understand me.
I finally move, following Naerys to the square. My wound finally settles in a feeling of numb. It will heal. The people-- the foreigners mostly give me short glances but mostly turns away to their work. I am no different than them. Now I am part of the war.
I reach the square, and when I see what is in the middle of it, my heart stops and I feel my breath shorten. Naerys is staring at it too, fear lining in her eyes. There, in the middle, stands five wooden spikes, each one taller than the other with their ends buried in the already shattered paths. Torches are many around them and they shine like a beacon in this dark night.
Bloody heads are mounted on them, the spikes piercing from the back of their skull and through their mouth and ravens come to pick at the rotten flesh. They are wearing golden helmets and in an instant I know that's the Valarians that was sent to kill us. Their gold won't do them any good now.
Their eyes are wide open, staring into the nothingness of the black skies. They're reminders. Reminders that they are not better than us. I feel bile rising in my throat. Did they cut their eyelids so they can never shut their eyes?
Their eyes are the worst, haunting and piercing deep. The flesh of the neck is a pale pink. They stand there, five heads mounted on five spikes as a sign-- a twisted one that signifies our coming victory.
I pray silently that the next head will not be Ethan's.
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IM SORRY FOR UPDATING SO LATE BUT HERE YOU GO.