She was slick with blood. And it was not her own.
The black came from the orcs. Their blood was black because they weren’t natural to the world, they were beasts created by the dark elves for Seraphina.
Aria had run out of arrows long before she’d been pulled off her horse. Now, she swung her axe at her enemies, slicing their stomachs open. Already it stunk.
It was the smell of death. Of the dead who had the contents of their stomach unveiled. The dead who defecated in their last moments. It was this smell of death that filled the air.
And she had it easy compared to Alexander who she could see had two opponents to fight. Her arms ached but she kept fighting, she pushed through it.
The blood sprayed out of every wound she inflicted, like a hole in a bottle. That was when she spotted a third opponent approaching the black-haired king.
She threw her axe at the opponent. The strength of her throw was so powerful that the weapon went straight through her targets skull and embedded itself in another opponent of Alexander’s.
As another enemy tried to attack her, she grabbed its wrist and flipped it on its back, using the blade to pierce its flesh. After it had died, she realized that it was a dark elf.
She sprinted for her axe, knowing that what had just happened was a close call. She could have been in that elf’s position so easily.
As she pulled her axe from the skull of the deceased, Alexander finished his final opponent. He was covered in blood as well. Though it was to be expected with battle.
Both of the teens were sweating heavily. It was the activity of war that caused it, as well as the sun. Though, had they not been fighting a battle, it wouldn’t have felt as hot as it did.
“Thanks,” Alexander breathed. “Are all battles this terrifying?”
“This is your first battle,” she told him, equally as breathless, examining the chaos that surrounded them. “You’re a baby compared to the rest of us.”
He let out what was supposed to be a laugh, but he couldn’t muster it in his fear. “Yeah.”
In the chaos, her eyes found Peep, fighting his way through. The little mouse climbed over the dead, and avoided being crushed. Unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the little rodent.
“Keep fighting!”
She rushed forward. She barely avoided the blade of the minotaur as he swung at her. He was bigger than her by a lot. But it didn’t matter.
His attacks were vicious and aggressive. He didn’t count on her being worse. When there was an opening in his attacks, she leapt on to his back. She wrapped her legs around his shoulders and with both hands on the handle of the axe, raised it high into the air.
And then she used it to crack its skull in two. She swung around to its front and swifty picked the little mouse up from the battlefield and then rolled out of the way as the minotaur fell to its death.
It was exhausting all this death. And she knew what kept her going. She could feel it running through her veins.
She was less receptive to pain than she would have been before the fight. Her heart rate had significantly increased and her breathing had become rapid. And she was sweating as if she were the sky and it was raining. Her senses were heightened, smell, sight and hearing as well as her reflexes. She was faster than normal. Stronger too.
This is what she was built for. She spent years training for war. And she was the only person, the only living thing that could regulate adrenaline at will in Ashiver.
She was the only person who could ignore all the death. The only person who could feel nothing at the destruction of the enemies.
She was trained to feel nothing.
And that was what she would do.
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