TequilaWitch
Wannabe Writer. Crazy Cat Lady.
Blood spattered across Enid's face, hot and moist clashing against the blackened crust of old ichor that painted her flesh, as the blade held firmly in her grasp drove through the skull of the blurry, dark form before her. A hideous shriek was ripped from deep within the creature as it fell back in defeat, her long sword sliding out of its body. The motion released a short-lived symphony of metal scraping against bone and tearing innards echoing into the silently churning sky. With fevered eyes, she stared down at the blade in her heated grasp. Once renowned for its legendary beauty formed of delicate designs set into blessed steel, intricate curves danced along the shining blade now coated in black blood. There was a tang of familiarity in the sight that brought confusion to her as she gazed upon the dark, thick liquid dripping from the edge, timid drops of rain pattered into the ichor sputter across her ravaged armor as she remained still.
Cries of struggling warriors as she gazed out at the sea of her soldiers. Snarling utterances of the vague beasts surrounding her echoed through the chilled air and she surveyed her men and women. Horror washed over her as she viewed each face more exhausted and beaten than the next if their bodies didn't lay on the ground, limbs twisted and gnarled if they possessed them at all. Their fire was dying out.
She closed her eyes. Indulging in the droplet's cool, gentle touch; an unexpected kindness upon her sore, tired flesh that now lay exposed under the veil of mist.
Her moment of peace was then shattered by a piercing blow to her side that sent her spinning as she landed hard on the ground. A cry of agony was wrenched from within her before she crashed upon the moist, cold earth. Time seemed to come to an abrupt halt as confusion twisted its way through her racing mind. The pain from the blow seemed faint, like a distant memory that one vaguely recalls but cannot quite remember fully. Muffled in the distance she could make out the cries of a familiar voice uttering her name.
My name, she thought weakly. Someone is calling my name.
An ache of protest tensed her muscles as she struggled to force herself up. Her ribs screamed as she took a deep breath, a sharp pain bringing her to a halt as she cried out, falling to her side once more. The voice called out her name again, terror and desperation backing their tone, echoing through the field of fallen warriors.
I need to answer. He needs to know I am alright, she thought. A fierce heat burned within her stomach with new purpose as she gathered the scrapping remnants of her strength to lift herself up and face her opponent. Though their figure was blurred, their appearance sent a wave of disgust through her accompanied by a dizzying sense of deja vu. As she thought she had laid eyes upon this being a thousand times. She suddenly found herself opening her mouth with a sense of urgency back to the words she needed to declare until the being before her twisted itself backward to face an approaching form. She dared to glance at the figure and relief rattled through her.
Alistair, she all but mused. Her mind was filled with emotions of adoration and appreciation that Enid had not realized were possible for her to feel for an individual. The sensation bubbled within her as she gazed upon him lovingly.
"Corinna," the blurred, fair-haired figure exclaimed.
In an instant, Enid found herself ripped from her mirage of glowing happiness.
"Corinna," she murmured under her breath. The voice that came from her lips was strained but soft, smooth and almost seductive, and completely unfamiliar to her.
Time seemed to slow as a flickering light brought her attention to the fallen armor lying beside her. The once shining metal was now coated in layer upon layer of scratches and claw marks, filled with dirt and blood shades of both crimson and midnight. Chunks of flesh clung desperately to the steel as it lay in the puddle of scarlet, images swirled through her mind of the endless possibilities of what could have happened to the warrior that once resided within its confines. But this is not what startled her.
She was sent reeling back as she stared at the face reflecting back at her in the void of blood upon the shining metal of the chest plate, a face that was not her own but instead of the most strikingly beautiful young woman she had ever seen. The woman's face was perfectly chiseled with a finely sculpted jawline and high, full cheekbones that heavily contrasted Enid's own rounded features. The dry, shoulder-length hair she kept constantly dyed a dark shade of blue had been replaced with matted, reddish-brown locks that flowed around her like a veil. Her skin tone, a light olive, was now coated in layers of dirt and splatters of freshly drawn blood, but it was easily seen that the complexion of this woman was much fairer than her own. Oddly what startled Enid the most was the replacement of her deep brown eyes with a set of bright green ones, though they were simple they seemed to contain a captivating, insatiable fire. It was as if she could read the entire life of this woman from her intense gaze along with the ambitious intentions she has for the remainder of her life. A warmth burned within Enid's chest as she kept her eyes on the woman's and she felt a sort of understanding that this woman had witnessed many horrors in her brief years but fully intended to prevent even more.
"Corinna!"
The daze holding Enid to the woman's gaze was shattered as she snapped her attention away and directed it to the call just in time to see the blurred creature raising its grotesque, enlarged arm and bringing it down, her lips parting as a silent gasp escaped her.
The sound of something heavy slamming against wood brought Enid jolting upright. Blinking rapidly to wake herself up, she raised her eyes to meet that of her glaring math professor, her cheeks pink with rage. A thick trigonometry textbook now lay on Enid's desk beside where she had been resting her head.
"This is the third time this week you've fallen asleep in my class, Ms. Brennan. Mind you, you only have three classes a week with me. You know the drill," she stated, pointing to the doorway of the classroom.
It took Enid another moment to process what was occurring but her body was already in motion, early accepting the excuse to get out of class though she was still haunted by the dream. Standing up from her seat in the far back corner of the classroom, and gathered together her notebook coated in doodles and her cat topped pens. She rushed through the aisles in an uncharacteristic silence which led to a symphony of whispers from her peers as they watched her pass. She was always one to make a scene with her witty remarks to her professors as she left the room and she cursed herself for the lack of sarcasm as she fled.
Cries of struggling warriors as she gazed out at the sea of her soldiers. Snarling utterances of the vague beasts surrounding her echoed through the chilled air and she surveyed her men and women. Horror washed over her as she viewed each face more exhausted and beaten than the next if their bodies didn't lay on the ground, limbs twisted and gnarled if they possessed them at all. Their fire was dying out.
She closed her eyes. Indulging in the droplet's cool, gentle touch; an unexpected kindness upon her sore, tired flesh that now lay exposed under the veil of mist.
Her moment of peace was then shattered by a piercing blow to her side that sent her spinning as she landed hard on the ground. A cry of agony was wrenched from within her before she crashed upon the moist, cold earth. Time seemed to come to an abrupt halt as confusion twisted its way through her racing mind. The pain from the blow seemed faint, like a distant memory that one vaguely recalls but cannot quite remember fully. Muffled in the distance she could make out the cries of a familiar voice uttering her name.
My name, she thought weakly. Someone is calling my name.
An ache of protest tensed her muscles as she struggled to force herself up. Her ribs screamed as she took a deep breath, a sharp pain bringing her to a halt as she cried out, falling to her side once more. The voice called out her name again, terror and desperation backing their tone, echoing through the field of fallen warriors.
I need to answer. He needs to know I am alright, she thought. A fierce heat burned within her stomach with new purpose as she gathered the scrapping remnants of her strength to lift herself up and face her opponent. Though their figure was blurred, their appearance sent a wave of disgust through her accompanied by a dizzying sense of deja vu. As she thought she had laid eyes upon this being a thousand times. She suddenly found herself opening her mouth with a sense of urgency back to the words she needed to declare until the being before her twisted itself backward to face an approaching form. She dared to glance at the figure and relief rattled through her.
Alistair, she all but mused. Her mind was filled with emotions of adoration and appreciation that Enid had not realized were possible for her to feel for an individual. The sensation bubbled within her as she gazed upon him lovingly.
"Corinna," the blurred, fair-haired figure exclaimed.
In an instant, Enid found herself ripped from her mirage of glowing happiness.
"Corinna," she murmured under her breath. The voice that came from her lips was strained but soft, smooth and almost seductive, and completely unfamiliar to her.
Time seemed to slow as a flickering light brought her attention to the fallen armor lying beside her. The once shining metal was now coated in layer upon layer of scratches and claw marks, filled with dirt and blood shades of both crimson and midnight. Chunks of flesh clung desperately to the steel as it lay in the puddle of scarlet, images swirled through her mind of the endless possibilities of what could have happened to the warrior that once resided within its confines. But this is not what startled her.
She was sent reeling back as she stared at the face reflecting back at her in the void of blood upon the shining metal of the chest plate, a face that was not her own but instead of the most strikingly beautiful young woman she had ever seen. The woman's face was perfectly chiseled with a finely sculpted jawline and high, full cheekbones that heavily contrasted Enid's own rounded features. The dry, shoulder-length hair she kept constantly dyed a dark shade of blue had been replaced with matted, reddish-brown locks that flowed around her like a veil. Her skin tone, a light olive, was now coated in layers of dirt and splatters of freshly drawn blood, but it was easily seen that the complexion of this woman was much fairer than her own. Oddly what startled Enid the most was the replacement of her deep brown eyes with a set of bright green ones, though they were simple they seemed to contain a captivating, insatiable fire. It was as if she could read the entire life of this woman from her intense gaze along with the ambitious intentions she has for the remainder of her life. A warmth burned within Enid's chest as she kept her eyes on the woman's and she felt a sort of understanding that this woman had witnessed many horrors in her brief years but fully intended to prevent even more.
"Corinna!"
The daze holding Enid to the woman's gaze was shattered as she snapped her attention away and directed it to the call just in time to see the blurred creature raising its grotesque, enlarged arm and bringing it down, her lips parting as a silent gasp escaped her.
The sound of something heavy slamming against wood brought Enid jolting upright. Blinking rapidly to wake herself up, she raised her eyes to meet that of her glaring math professor, her cheeks pink with rage. A thick trigonometry textbook now lay on Enid's desk beside where she had been resting her head.
"This is the third time this week you've fallen asleep in my class, Ms. Brennan. Mind you, you only have three classes a week with me. You know the drill," she stated, pointing to the doorway of the classroom.
It took Enid another moment to process what was occurring but her body was already in motion, early accepting the excuse to get out of class though she was still haunted by the dream. Standing up from her seat in the far back corner of the classroom, and gathered together her notebook coated in doodles and her cat topped pens. She rushed through the aisles in an uncharacteristic silence which led to a symphony of whispers from her peers as they watched her pass. She was always one to make a scene with her witty remarks to her professors as she left the room and she cursed herself for the lack of sarcasm as she fled.