Shadows of Valyria

Just as planned!

The dim candlelights flickered vigorously as the winds howled it's way past the tall woods and into the cottage, rattling the wooden shutters as it soared in.

Inside, the air was warm and the scent of burning wood mixed with herbs mingled with the smoke which floated across the room.

The only thing that could be heard was the rhythmic sound of the whetstone as Elara rubbed her blade along it, causing the edges to glow with a dimly red colour. Sharpening her sword was her own way of passing the time.

The sword was a well fabricated Claymore up to fifty-three inches from the handle. Though quite long, it was lightweight, and could slice the atoms in the air into two perfect molecules.

Suddenly, she paused. Her cold dark eyes, which had witnessed many great men die by her sword, focused on the window shutters.

To an inexperienced person, it would seem like a gentle breeze blowing in, but to a highly skilled warrior, Elara knew that someone was approaching.

A young soldier clothed in armour which was stained in blood of past battles, stumbled closer to the cottage.

He paused when he reached the entrance to the house. His Adam's apple forced down saliva as he swallowed hard in fear. He knew exactly whose porch he stood on. He had seen many towns, cities, and even kings die by the hands of the Valyrian-fear would grip anyone who dared to trespass on her property.

He knocked on the wooden door a couple of times, but there was no answer from within.

He could smell the smoke coming from the fireplace inside the house, which meant that someone was home.

Without thinking twice, he pressed on the doorknob which let out a low creaking sound as the door opened.

"Hello!" he called out, but there was no one inside. His fears reduced as he walked into the home of a killer.

A bed, a table with a book and a feather with its end stained with ink on top, a fireplace, and a chair just beside the table, was all the Valyrian needed to make a home.

He went over to the book which laid open on the table. There were things written in Latin-things he couldn't understand.

As the soldier lifted up his head, his eyes met the sharp edge of Elara's sword as it pointed millimetres away from his eyeballs.

"I...I'm so sorry. I knocked several times, but there was no response, so I decided to come in.", The soldier stammered with his hands in the air.

Elara looked deeply into his traumatised eyes and realised that he wasn't a threat. From his clad armour, it was obvious that he was a soldier from the king's court.

"You're a messenger?", she asked with her usual French accent. All her life, Elara grew up in France, but during the first world War, she was shipped down to Greece to help fight the battles that brewed amongst the kings.

"Ye.. Yes! I am", The soldier stammered as his eyes looked over to his badge on his left shoulder which differentiated soldiers from messengers, courtyard guards, and archers.

His eyes went back to Elara's, but he quickly darted them away. He didn't have the courage to look her in the face, adding the sword which pointed into his soul.

"I was sent here by the king. He needs your alliance with him in the battle that's already happening right now. I was also instructed not to come back alive, except with you beside me", he said.

Elara gave no reply. She was a warrior with very few words. Even in the battlefield, when other soldiers groaned in battle, the only sound she made was the sound of her opponent's throat slicing open by her Claymore.

"Go!", she ordered.

The soldier gave her a surprised expression. " I am not to go back alive except if I have you in my possession", he explained again-this time with a hint of frustration in his voice.

Elara narrowed her eyes at him. She knew that he was definitely going to be killed by the king if she didn't go with him. Although she cared so little about him, her allegiance was to the king.

"Go. I'm right behind you", she said again.

The messenger needed no further explanation. He went out of the house and into the woods where he stashed his horse.

"Hiya! " he groaned in command as the horse charged away, heading straight to the battlefield.

The king and his men had already spotted him from afar as he approached them.

The messenger jumped off the horse and bowed to the king's feet in tremble. "Long live the king! I had seen the woman, but she refused to go with me", he said in fear.

The king drew his sword and was about to stab the messenger who bowed to his feet when he heard a voice from behind.

"Why would you be so quick to kill an innocent man who spoke the truth? ", Elara said from behind.

The king turned to her. She wore a sleek obsidian-black fabric dress which accentuated her athletic build yet allowing for complete freedom of movement. The bodice was adorned with subtle thorn patterns with silver chains draping across her shoulders.

Her long sleeves ended in a tight fit around her wrist which had small pockets to hide her needle-like daggers. Her chest region was made with leather armour which was carefully woven with threads in distinct patterns. It offered protection without hindering her movement.

The gown splitted from her waist region to offer her mobility. Made of very soft cotton material which covered the tight shorts underneath that offered pockets to her knives.

Her polished-black shoes were knee-high, fastened with silver buckles that held firm to her swift legs. Everything on her was black, except her white skin.

"Oh! You came? ", the king blurted in surprise as he sheathed his sword.

"What sort of warrior would I be if I disobeyed the king?, my friend! ", Elara said with a very faint side smile that could hardly be visible.

"Yeah! I need your help in this battle, Elara. Our enemies have surrounded our men and are gaining victory. I've sent my best troops into the battlefield, but we all know when it comes to wars, you're the best warrior on the planet.", he said.

Elara paused. She had decided to stop killing people when she discovered that it only caused more deaths. She knew the king wouldn't agree to this, so there was no need refusing his proposal-afterall, the war was already ongoing.

"Then what are we waiting for? As a king, you should be fighting for your people.", Elara said.

"So, that means you're with me? ", He asked with hope in his eyes.

Elara drew her sword, "I need a horse. "

***

Elara was deep into the battlefield. There were dead bodies everywhere, and more continued to fall as she proceeded.

In less than a minute, she had turned the favour for them. More and more men charged at her as she killed them one by one.

Something felt odd about the battle. None of the king's men were beside her anymore. The enemies charged at her in great numbers as Elara struggled to defend herself alone.

Lucky enough, she was able to gain some space. Elara ran towards the calvary, but they all stood there watching as she fought alone.

By now, her horse was already dead so she ran on foot towards one of the guards,

"What the hell is happening? Why aren't you fighting? ", Elara panted heavily.

Suddenly, the soldier drew his sword and attacked Elara. She blocked his attack with her sword in one swift move.

He charged at her, swinging his sword rapidly. He was a high-ranked soldier from his badge, but he still wasn't half a match for Elara on single combat.

She jumped in the air as she made a cartwheel. She landed on one foot and went lower. In less than a second, her blade slashed through the soldier's knees and he fell down legless.

She made a backflip and was on her feet again. As she pointed her sword at him, an arrow pierced through her waist.

Elara groaned in pain. She dragged the arrow out of her back. The archer aimed at her and released another arrow, but Elara was quick to dodge.

More soldiers charged at her, both the enemies and the allies. The battle was all about her. She had been played by the king who led her straight to the frontline.

Elara fought fiercely, but there were too many. One of the soldiers stabbed her arm with a spear. She fell to her knees but was not going to give up without a fight.

There was a distant rumble as horses approached where she was fighting.

Elara just slaughtered one guard when another arrow pierced through her chest, falling her to the ground.

"Elara my dear... ", The king said as his horse hovered around her, " Do not be surprised by what you see. I have a great reason for wiping you out of the picture so..."

He got down from his horse and drew his sword. He walked over to where Elara laid with a grin on his face.

" Elara Valyria! Look at you now! I knew that you'd just kill my men if I had sent them to you in batches so I had to play you out. All these men laying out here died just for the show. It's been a pleasure betraying you", he said. He raised his sword and stabbed her again. She groaned out in pain as blood oozed out of her mouth.

Elara looked at him with deadly eyes. She was overpowered, outnumbered, and her wounds were fatal. She struggled to get to her feet but was stabbed again by the king.

"Wh...why?", Elara mumbled.

"Well! It's for the better", he replied and stabbed her on the chest. Elara held the sword with both hands as blood oozed its way out of her black dress, her visions became blurry and she dropped to the ground.

"See ya in hell, Elara!"