"Don't worry, I won't try anything; even though I want to." Prestiney pulled away and swung to catch her smirk just before it slipped off her face as Miah turned to leave.
"Little sis, touch my cookies, and you are dead to me! I swear I'm going to kill you and watch your dying eyes with a grin on my face." Miah responded as she went to the door.
The younger Fae was looking at her as if she was measuring what coffin would fit her the best and gave her a small smirk. `hmp! As if I won't fight you, but trust me, I'll give you to the monster before you could even take that sword." She repeated, stepping aside as a sign for her to leave.
"This wasn't over you pig. I'll make you disappear in a blink within this week, and I'll feed your heart to the dogs".
"We don't have a dog, you dickhead" Pristina screeched.
"To the cow."
"We don't have a cow, you stinky brat,"
"To the horses,"
"Not to them... they aren't yours" she responded, and more name-calling and squealing erupted as the sister continue to banter with each other.
Minutes passed when Miah masked her surprise as one messenger of Fae was running towards them. Her heartbeat quickens as she runs after her friend.
Miah spun her head to look at the young Fae, Chiprey. He was breathless and scared.
Chiprey was a messenger Fae of the Grassland, slim and a little smaller than her. His shoulders were slumped and his eyes cast down in a mournful gaze. His mouth was set in a semi-pout, his eyes full of sadness and weariness. There was more to this young boy than just a fellow Fae. Miah was startled at the emotion of his tone.
"Bad news" he then said.
Miah's minds were distressed with emotions, her lips pulled tight. She couldn't bear to see her friend suffering. She got up and close the distance between them. She reached his face, soothing the side of his cheek with fingertips, and whispered, "Chip, tell me what happens, okay?"
He opened his mouth to talk, but no words came out. Miah waited. He swallowed, "The Fae of the South was coming. With their warriors!... Advancing to the North as we speak."
She nodded her head in understanding and stepped back. They are not alone, so she kept her comments of comfort, meant only for him to hear. She doesn't want him to break down.
"They have your human companion, the skinny one with blue eyes. They held him, hostage." He continued.
"Nathan?" She asked.
"They took him while he was in the lake, fishing for something, ... that's what I heard from an acquaintance. They brought him to the Dark Forrest and bathe him in the Golden Pool."
"This is not good... Oh, poor soul… My guess is he was already dead!" Prestiney added and Cheena frowned, not liking the way she was taking the news.
"Of course not, we won't let 'em have him," Cheena replied tension bled from her shoulder. Her eyes widened with confusion, her bottom lip quivered, unsure what to make of her sister's strange words. Never had she heard a human companion in the hands of Dark Fae Alton.
There was one thing they wanted the messenger to understand and be certain of, Miah's pupils dilated, fury rolling off her, as she seethed, "How about Catherine and Sean?"
Hot fury washed over her as she remembers her human friend, Catherine. Their bond was strong as the Fae's bond. It was the giggles that were the sails upon their boat, the laughter, the smiles. She saw the funny in everything, and that was their bind. She guesses the challenge was learning how to give so much with so little in return and still expect no help or kindness. Not only that, but she was the most gentle of souls. That was Catherine, and there was nothing on Grassland that could keep her from rescuing her friend from Alton's hand.
"Catherine was fine, and so his companion." the young boy replied, "both were out for a walked when Alton's army took the skinny one,".
They nodded, unable to speak as they went to pick up their weapons.
"Inform everyone and let's go defend our land," Cheena said with the seriousness of a mother. "Gather our warriors and tell Catherine to meet us in the clearing," she added and gripped her weapon. Today was the day, and she wishes them good luck.
In the Grassland clearing, as the wind blows and the screeched of the birds can be heard above, Alton's army and the sister's warrior were assembled face to face and ready for the battle.
"No! Fight me instead, motherfucker." Sean growled and moved to step in front.
When Alton steps forward with confidence. He doesn't want the human male or any of the sisters. He wanted Catherine, he needed the Mark and the Prophecy Coins.
And one look warns Sean that he was not a simple opponent.
Alton expects easy picking that Sean would give her up without a struggle. But he was wrong, Sean thought, he would never grant him the satisfaction of getting the coin as it belongs to Mark, his Catherine. His brain was racing for a way out. He couldn't fight Alton along with his stupid voluntary effort. But what about Nathan? Sean thought. He doesn't need him traumatized like that. He's a gentle flower, loving, and he's been through enough in his life. But alive was better than dead, so he tells Catherine to close her eyes, but he knew his request will be ignored.
The battle began, swords and arrows can be heard from a distance. The sisters were incredibly fast, and they have an enormous advantage, they attack from many angles and strikes with great percussive forces against the armors enemy, yet they have the momentum and leverage to make them extremely difficult to deflect, let alone block. The fight between the fae sisters and the north warrior proceeded, clashing their steel with force enough to sever a limb, the force of their collision sends up sparks, showing just how powerful, sharp, and deadly the sister's words were, and as the two opponents attacks and thrusts against each other, the cutting edges of their blade spark.
Sean stows Alton between his legs and realizes just how naïve he had been. The odds were not on his side, but he tried, anyway. His blade was good at slashing and plunging, it gives him remarkable hand protection however he was too awkward to haul it properly as he wasn't skilled with it.
Sean knew every part of his blade could be used as a weapon, the tip for slinging, the edges for hacking and slashing, and the pommel can deliver a blunt-force hit; but he wasn't well-trained, instead, he ended up shoving Alton and punching him.
He knew he will not make it, he will die on Alton's hands, and yet, he tensed his arms and draws out his blade. He says a prayer while he keeps his eyes shut tight. Then from no-where another sword follows, it was Catherine's.
Distantly, the sisters and their Fae Warrior still battled with the enemies. Blood spreads among the grass, the sounds of anguished, and distress can be heard miles away.
"Are you out of your mind"? He was a powerful Fae for a reason. He will kill you without single remorse, dammit!" Catherine said and she swung her sword towards Alton, blacking his advancement.
She held the sword even, a perfect, courageous horizon; always leveled with her nose, just as Miah and Prestiney had taught her.
She had stalled Alton's strike but watched a wretched-stained grin split the Dark Fae lips as her blade shivered under the brutality of his interesting strength. "Weapons do not belong in the hands of a Mortal," he crooned, pressing closer to her face. The sword flashed as he moved it over his head and hummed a low, abrupt tune when he drew it down.
As the battle continued, Catherine could feel her fire inside her, a fierce light covering her arms, running into her veins, through her sword, it was so bright and yet warming her. She blinked to clear her vision, as Alton's shocked face was visible among the flaming sword.
Catherine weighed the blade in her right hand, slashing it at the air with a pro-like apprehension, and as she did so the reflection of the orange torch flame danced within the cool steel.
It bound the handle of the blade with black leather and yet; it wasn't burning; the hilt decorated though understated, and the sword was long enough to make her deadly swing towards the Dark Fae. She was certain this time; her face dimmed as she presses down with her weight and superior strength she forced the Sword backward towards her face. When He least expects it, she knocks the weapon from Alton's grip, and it lands just unreachable. She then drives her elbow into his face almost knocking him unconscious, breaking his jaw, and leaving his face looking like a miss-shaped representation of what it used to be. She gets to her feet standing over her, The tip of the sword was pointed towards his heart in both hands-on grips, she plunges the blade into his core.
When Alton took deep his last breath, it hides a visible smile on his lips as his eyes closed.
The battle halted. The three sisters Fae of the North then asked the South Leader to return the hostage to them. They also demanded the South to give back the weapons and their human friend Nathan. But the South turned a deaf ear to these demands. The Fae Warrior of the North responded to the South with even fiercer warrior intervention. The fight continued and with the setting sun came; they could hear a sky of fire and battle cries on the distant horizon.
The North troops attempted to defend against the South attack but were already faced with overwhelming odds. It inflicted heavy damage on both sides. However, a comprehensive defeat of the North Fae Warrior could be achieved if they turn to the forces of Dark Magic.
But with Catherine with them; the idea was disregarded, yet it was a battlefield that appeared to be anything but bloodshed. Death was overwhelming, bodies of the fallen scattered like a slaughtered animal, and both Fae Warrior from north to south unknowing of their roles, and every one of them was just a sacrificial lamb for the battle that had been fought for ages.
Catherine wished she could have told them all what reality was. They have ignored the conflict and disagreement between the two parties. Hatred and ambitions were the bottoms of the feud. For once, if only, maybe they can agree on one thing. Peace.
But Peace was behind them now.
She hoped she could avoid the voids that opened the knives and cut through every Fae's heart; that appeared in the hand without asking for them.
Each sought to be on the right side, convincing themselves that they were.
When they did the bidding of the darkness, they made up stories to justify their actions rather than face what they had done.
The battlefield remained quiet, for it was now a graveyard of the unburied. Their corpses lay down among the filthy. The sunset was warm, and the wind still blew, but somewhere mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters waited in vain. They were now meat for the birds. Their eyes were as immobile as their limbs. They lost the battle; the enemy had won.
Currently, they camped a mile away to plan the ransacking of the Grassland itself. And for Nathan, they will travel without disdain.