Lastborn of Forsaken Roses

by Thomas Green

“That was the most needless taunt I have heard in a while.”

  “Why do you sound so disappointed? Well?”

  “I was hoping the Traitor would come himself, for it is his head I need to claim.”

  Miranda’s eyes narrowed. “The Traitor isn’t something you would call someone you don’t know.”

  Collward laughed. “Of course, he didn’t tell you… you aren’t here because you were ordered to, are you? When I think about it, I will bet he prohibited you from trying to kill me, didn’t he?”

  “Why don’t you stop avoiding my question? So?”

  “Despite our disagreements, I respect his privacy. If he wanted you to know, he would have told you.” Collward rose from the throne and drew a greatsword from its side. “I believe your men should be in their positions now. While I found our conversation amusing, there is only so much merit in talking to a corpse.”

  Collward’s eyes turned black with golden irises, a pointy tail weaved out from under his coat and two mighty horns extended out of his forehead.

  “I am not the one who will die here.” Miranda readied Scitalis in her hands, soulstepped to his side and swung the steel sphere at his head. Simultaneously, her men leapt out of their hiding spots to attack Collward and the Twins.

  Edward swung his blade wide to swat away Miranda’s strike. He spun and cut one of the Shadowless in half, releasing a fountain of blood and organs. Blades extended from the hands of the Twins. They both parried all attacks aimed at them.

  One of the Twins leapt forward at another of the Shadowless. He blocked her attack, but she leaned onto him. A dozen blades stuck out from her body, piercing the man. He screamed in pain as he jumped back before he collapsed.

  Miranda spun and lunged at Collward. He ducked under the blow, stepped in and swung his sword in dazzling speed. Miranda soulstepped to the side to dodge the attack, but the blade still grazed her, ripping a hole into her armor.

  Pain burst from Miranda’s shoulder. The second of the Twins opened its mouth and shot a barrage of needles at Miranda. She soulstepped to her and flung the sphere of Scitalis at her head. Collward crossed the room with a thunderous boom. He parried the strike and slashed at Miranda. She avoided his blow with another soulstep. Collward spun and severed in two another of her men.

  The sweat on Miranda’s back turned ice cold. “Retreat to 32b!”

  Six needles hit her in the side. The first of the last two Shadowless leapt to the needle-shooting Twin and ran a sword through her chest. The Twin didn’t make a sound. She grabbed him to toss him at the blade Twin, which started spinning like a top as the man flew toward her. He tried to redirect his flight. In vain. The whirling blades shredded him into a bloody paste.

  Miranda soulstepped behind the last of her men to parry Collward’s blade. His strike was so strong she could barely divert it. He charged to slam his shoulder into her. The impact blew the air out of her lungs and sent her flying. She flew into her last Shadowless. They both crashed into the wall. Miranda spun, grabbed her unconscious subordinate by his cloak and leapt out through the window.

  Sharp claws dug into Miranda’s shoulders. She gritted her teeth not to shout in pain and looked up. A woman with arms turned into wings, a harpy, held her within the steel talons she had instead of her feet. The harpy sprung and threw Miranda back into the window, back to where the spinning blade Twin was waiting. Miranda spun midair to shield her soldier. She used all her strength to reinforce her body as she could not soulstep them both.

  A boom echoed from above her, and the harpy flew past her. The blade Twin shredded her into a blur of flesh, splinters, and steel shards.

  The firm hand of Lucas grabbed Miranda by the cloak and broke her flight, violently throwing her to the side. She let go of the last Shadowless. Lucas caught him by the tunic and landed onto a street post, holding Miranda in his right and the Shadowless in his left.

  Edward Collward peered at them through the broken window, his golden eyes shining in the darkness, his horns framed by the moonlight. “So you were coming to kill me, after all. Now that I’ve warmed up, want to have a go at it?”

  Miranda tried to move, but her body felt weak and tired as the adrenaline rushed out of her and the poison from the needles settled in.

  “Perhaps next time.” Lucas turned and leapt off the post to the roof of the building across the street.

  “Next time then.” Edward disappeared from the window.

  Miranda sneered. “Let me go!”

  Lucas dashed over the tiles, still holding her and the last Shadowless in his hands. “The needles’ poison is made to work on me, so it will affect you. The more you move, the faster it will spread. I am taking you to the camp, without a discussion.”

  “I can do that myself! You need to warn the others!”

  He smiled. “Will you get yourself healed if I do?”

  “Sure!”

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  Miranda’s cheeks flared up. “Because I’m not coming back like this! For fuck’s sake, Lucas, I screwed up, so at least let me make up for it!”

  “No.”

  “Fuck off.”

  He laughed. “And here I thought you would be more repentant, given your blatant insubordination.”

  “Exactly! I lost four of my top men, got beaten up, had to be saved by you, and I have a trial ahead of me. At least let me murder someone!”

  “No.”

  Miranda sighed, relaxing into his arms. “Asshole.”

  Lucas carried her all the way back to their army camp.

  ***

  Merewen advanced with the main force through the sewers. While the other operations were necessary, this was where the battle for Cinderwell was to be decided. And things did not go well. The sewers were heavily fortified, and the soldiers manning the fortifications were no amateurs. Most of them bore the insignia of the Slaver Union, yet men bearing no symbols commanded them.

  Merewen charged toward the nearest barricade of wood and stones.

  Ballista arrows flew past her, skewering her soldiers. Merewen cursed and slammed her shoulder into the fortification. The wood blew apart as she rammed through. Four slavers descended onto her. She spun and swung her maul, turning them into deformed corpses within an instant. Ahead of her, the remaining slavers were pulling away from the ballistae to the next layer of barricades.

  Merewen dashed forward. Six of the slavers ran toward her to slow her down. She whirled and struck with her maul. The men died in but a moment, yet not before the rest of them reached their destination. She ducked to avoid the barrage of ballista arrows, but there was nothing she could do for the soldiers who were rushing to her heels.

  She cursed and dashed forward, crashing through the next barricade like an angry elephant through a garden fence. Merewen slaughtered the men who stayed behind. A larger room with pillars opened before her when she looked ahead.

  At its end, the rear guard of the slavers was retreating to the next fortification. Yet it wasn’t them what trapped her gaze. In the middle of the room, a man sat on a rock while a beam of moonlight shone upon him from the grate above. He wore a long black cloak, had a black cape over his face, matching armor underneath and his hand rested on a giant, single-bladed waraxe with a sharp barb at the side where the blade was not. Under the cape gleamed bright blue eyes.

  He did not rise when she stepped forward. “My underlings are a touch behind schedule, so I am afraid you will need to have a dance with me in the meantime.”

  Merewen had her soldiers spread out at the start of the room and advanced. “You are too good to be slavers. Who are you?”

  “Honest men earning their living the hard way.”

  “And you, I suppose, are their leader.”

  “Yes, but you may call me James.”

  “I don’t care. Take him out.” Merewen’s men formed a wall of shields and pushed forward.

  “And here I thought you would appreciate a little chat before I send you and your men to the
afterlife… so much for trying to be nice.” James straightened his back, revealing the symbol of a lone rose etched on his armor’s chest. He dashed to the soldiers in a move so fast he looked like a blur, crashing into them, swinging wide. Her men flew around as if they were dolls made of thin cloth. James tore through them within seconds.

  “Diamond formation, behind me!” Merewen shouted and darted to intercept him. As her soldiers withdrew, she roared a battle cry and swung at James.

  He parried her blow, spun and cut upward. Merewen knocked the strike away with her armor and rammed into him with her shoulder. He flew a few feet back but did not lose balance.

  James smiled. “Not bad.”

  Merewen did not stop her assault. He weaved left and lunged with his axe. She parried the attack, switched her grip and swung sideways. He dodged, but she stepped in and whirled. Her maul hit him in the chest and sent him flying into the wall with a thundering boom.

  She smirked and turned to her men. “Advance!”

  A deafening roar echoed through the sewers. Merewen spun just in time to see James charging at her, his skin deathly gray, his eyes like two sapphire suns. She blocked the downward strike of his axe. He whirled and kicked her to the chest. The kick bent in her armor and sent her flying. She crashed into the opposite wall of the room, air blowing out of her lungs. The man leapt at her soldiers, tearing through them with ease.

  Merewen climbed up to her feet. “Retreat!” Her knees were wobbly, but she gritted her teeth and charged him, anyway. This time he didn’t dodge. She hit him to the side with her maul while he spun to ram the barb of his axe into her chest. It pierced through her plates and dug into her ribs before they both flew from each other into the opposite walls. Red fog filled her eyes. With a painful groan, she rose.

  James was already approaching her. “You aren’t bad, lass, but you aren’t nearly ready to fight a prince.” He charged.

  Merewen deflected the blow and dodged the follow-up kick. He spun and sunk his fist into her stomach. She spat out blood as the punch sent her flying to her men.

  In the last, desperate attempt, she stretched out her arms and focused. A massive blast of flame burst out of her hands. The fire filled the room, turning it into a hissing inferno of steam and burned flesh. When the flames ceased, James gazed at her with a calm smirk, unharmed.

  A man shouted from behind James, “the second eastern tunnel is losing, boss.”

  “On it,” James said before glancing at Merewen. “Till next time.” He dashed away.

  After he did, arrows from ballistae flew out from the fortification his men built in the meantime, impaling dozens of her soldiers.

  “Full retreat!” Merewen ordered as she tried to get onto her feet. She did not manage, collapsing to her knees. Her soldiers lifted her from under her shoulders and carried her back to the camp as their entire force retreated.

  24

  Raven

  Raven woke up on a stretcher, but the pain rampaging through his body made him wish he did not. He blinked and looked around. The room smelled of blood, most likely his, and featured stone walls besieged by chairs and stretchers.

  When he turned his gaze, he saw Samantha sitting on a stool by his bed. Her eyes were tired and dried blood covered her clothes while her ginger hair was greasy and caught into a ponytail. She must have spent the entire night putting me together.

  As his heart sunk into his stomach, Raven gritted his teeth and sat up, swallowing down a grunt of pain. “You don’t need to push yourself like this for me, Sam.”

  She formed a painful smile. “And what would you have me do? Sit around and smoke a pipe while you bleed to death?”

  “Wasn’t that bad.”

  “Wasn’t? You were unconscious for half a day… this is the worst I have seen you, Raven. Even your rat was worried.”

  “Nibbles always worries. I am sorry I made you worry.” He searched for his rat friend, finding him sitting at a table next to him. Raven stretched out his hand. With a happy squeak, the rat climbed over his arm to take its position on his shoulder.

  “Now you are… but when you are out there all you see is the enemy in front of you.”

  Raven shook his head. “You know I have nothing else, Sam. Yesterday I almost lost that… I should have ignored the monster and searched for the keys. I was stupid, and we won only thanks to the Reavers.”

  “Luna and Finubar said the same thing. They both told me they screwed up and got saved by you nearly killing yourself to get to the chest first.”

  Can’t you let me slip away with the lie? Raven sighed. “Dumb luck, there was nothing more on my end.”

  “Your lies are sweet, but that’s all they are. Lies. You can pretend it was the monster jumping around, but everyone knows that its weight would have never been enough to break the cavern floor. What we all saw last night was you shattering the floor of the upper cavern to get to the goal first, getting a huge comeback win for your team after falling for over a hundred feet.”

  “That’s nonsense. Finubar and his men would have stopped the enemy team even if I didn’t.”

  Samantha’s look turned a notch sharper as her wrinkles deepened. “Do you know why all the people out there cheer your name? Why they all pay to watch your matches? It is because you inspire them and yesterday, you did that, again. Whether you admit the fact changes nothing.”

  “How is me killing demons inspiring anyone?”

  “How do I explain it… you were born a slave, so by this age, you are supposed to be dead. Yet you aren’t and instead, everyone who has ever faced you is. There’s this… feeling about watching you fight that makes you feel you can do anything, that you can become more than you were supposed to if only you tried hard enough. And I doubt it’s different for others. Yesterday, you fell over hundred feet, survived by using a massive demon to soften your landing and then, not even a minute after the fall, you got up and won the match for your team. I'm sure most people who watched had never seen anything this outrageous.”

  All I do is kill people, Sam. You know that. So why do you keep spinning it? Raven shook his head to banish the doubt that crept into his mind. “I’m nothing like that, Samantha.”

  “That doesn’t matter. You must live up to it, anyway.”

  “Don’t think I can.”

  “Yes, you can. So shut up about it.”

  Raven paused. “Let me carry you to the room.”

  “I will get there myself since you should stay in bed.”

  He forced himself to stand. The pain was blinding, but not enough to stop him. He walked to Samantha, smiled, and picked her up in his arms.

  She sighed. “Not much of a listener, are you?”

  You deserve better… I’m sorry I’m not a better man. He carried her to her cell. “Were you saying something? I might have damaged my hearing during the fall.”

  “I hope you aren’t looking for more because I’m too tired for anything other than sleeping.”

  Raven forced out a laugh. “Perhaps another time then.”

  Samantha chuckled. “You can sure be charming when you try… but seriously… you need someone other than me, and we both know it.”

  “Who do you think I would need?”

  “Someone strong enough to fight you, to hold you accountable once you mess up.”

  Raven raised an eyebrow. “So… you are saying I should try something with Luna?”

  Samantha shook her head. “I might only know the healing manifestation, but I can still get the general read on people. She is strong, sure, but there is no way she would ever win a fight against you. Not when you want to win.”

  What if there was nobody like that? Tens of thousands had come to face him in the arena, and all of them were weaker than him. James was the only one who ever managed to wound him, but Raven fought him without his sword or armor. He smiled, but it was a joyless one with no sign of hope. “You make it easy with the list of requirements.” They had reached Samantha’s cell, a simple room of st
one. He carried her to her bed.

  Samantha ran her gentle fingers by his shackles. “Raven… promise me you will take these off one day.”

  “That’s not up to me, Sam.”

  “It is. I am sure you can remove them if you ever so desire.”

  Raven gripped the shackle on his neck and pulled with all strength he could muster. The iron didn’t budge. “Not moving, Sam, believe me, I have tried many times before.”

  “What stops you aren’t your shackles, Raven, it is that you don’t know where you would go, what you would do and you lie to yourself that you can’t leave all this behind. Who keeps you enslaved is you and no one else.”

  “Don’t think that’s how it works with these.”

  “One day, you will find that reason. When you do, you will tear these off and kick out the door when leaving. I wish I will be around to see it.” Samantha smiled. “Good night, Raven… and thank you.”

  He frowned, wondering why he kept refusing to admit he could remove his shackles. Why couldn’t he say aloud he had nowhere else to go and nothing better to do? In the end, the game he had been playing with Stallington was too amusing to leave. The prince may have hidden it well, but he did not inherit his position. He gained it through conquest, making him a worthy bearer of the title of prince. And Raven couldn’t help himself but want to see where shall the road lead him, fascinated by the way the prince danced through the world. He blinked a few times to clear his head. “Good night, Sam.”

  He left her cell and returned to gather his gear from the room where he lay. His chain mail and shield both looked like they had been through a hundred year war. Grunting through the pain, Raven dressed, wiped the dried blood off his sword and headed to where Yvonne usually sang.

  The arena complex of Cinderwell was a maze, but a well-marked one, so he navigated to the balcony a level below her favorite spot with ease. The stench of sweat and foulness in the air was a welcome change from the pungent scent of blood.

  He could hear Yvonne’s divine voice long before he reached the place. The tune calmed his heart, soothed his soul and let him forget about his wounds. Raven sat on the snow-covered balcony, sagged against the railing and listened, watching the snowdrops dance to her song.