From the Ashes, What Remains, pt 2

"Tang"

"Tang tang"

"Clang"

Urthrina's curved long knives struck and rang out against Jafningi's scimitars rhythmically as she parried his slashes and thrusts easily. They moved about the chaos like two old lovers dancing to the musical beat of the weapons colliding, but for them nothing could be further from the truth.

"You know Jaf," She teased as they broke away from each other momentarily and hefted their weapons as they searched for openings in each other's guard to attack, "I never liked you…"

"Just as well," He returned with a growl, "There are only a few I detest more than you!"

She laughed at him and danced backwards away from his slashing blades as he surged forward angrily. Her blades tanged loudly twice as she deflected his thrusts then jumped backwards high in the air, landed and cartwheeled before whistling a series of high trilling whistles. He was in pursuit as she danced and jumped away at the last second before each attack. Thrusting a long knife into its sheath, she whipped out a small handheld crossbow, leveled it at him, and pulled the trigger. A clip of four small bolts unloaded quickly and slammed into his chest driving him backwards, halting his pursuit, but was deflected and mitigated by a coat of platemail. Ripping a bolt stuck between the plates of his armor out and throwing it away, he snarled, "Getting desperate are you? Resorting to frivolous tricks to beat me!"

"Not even," She laughed as the crossbow folded up and she slipped it back into its holster before drawing her long knife again, "I could have killed you at will, any time I wanted. I just wanted you to feel like you had a chance."

He snarled and charged only to suddenly feel a hand grab the knap of his neck and wrench him backwards and slam him to the ground knocking the wind out of him. With a cough and a wheeze he blinked his eyes to clear his vision enough to see the snarling teeth of a large she-wolf as she squeezed his throat with her massive clawed hands. Stabbing upward, he caught her cheek with the tip of his sword and thrust upward lacerating her eye and brow.

The she-wolf howled in pain as she staggered backwards. Jafningi rolled to follow her when eight pointed sven'dahl forelegs speared him from the shoulders and chest, down his abdomen, to his legs pinning him to the ground. They hissed down at him as he coughed up blood and slashed at the joints of their legs only to have a red furred male fox dart in and grab his wrist and twist, breaking it with an audible snap as Urthrina caught his other arm and knocked his scimitar away.

"You see now, don't you," She growled in his face, "You forgot that I am not a Blade Master, rather, I am the Master Hunter and I never hunt without my pack!"

"Tr..ait...orous whore bitch," He cursed through gritted teeth.

"Against traitors! Absolutely!" She laughed through a sneer as she asked, "Do you really think you're insulting me? Our Spider Goddess is also the Queen of Prostitutes!"

Looking up at the fox on Jafningi's other side she continued, "Herud'nag, he hurt your mate. I leave the killing blow to you."

Jafningi's eyes opened wide and he had time to open his mouth in protest before Herud'nag's hand grasped his throat and his claws dug in. There was a strangle yell, and then gurgling as blood spurted across the fox and Urthrina. Standing up she looked for the next battle to be fought while Herud'nag moved to the silver she-wolf. Accalia held her hand tight against her face and eye, and it took a lot of persuasion from him to convince her to let him see the damage. He hissed at her destroyed eye before taking her red armband and tying it over the injury.

Urthrina found Beinbalkr standing fighting with three of her maids just in time to see one brutally killed as four soldiers attacked in a coordinated assault. Turning back she looked at Herud-nag and Accalia and signed at her sven'dahl to move out as she shouted, "Herud-nag, take Accalia and retreat, you've done what you can. Meet up with us at the Kennels."

"Yes, Huntress," He answered and immediately began leading Accalia away from the fighting.

When Urthrina turned back it was to seeing Beinbalkr's last two maids falling to the ground dead from a sword that impaled them both. Charging towards the Pantler to give her assistance, four of Jafningi's closest friends and lieutenants took positions between her and Beinbalkr.

"Jafningi may have died this night by your hand Urthrina," The first growled, "But I promise, so will you!"

The group began spreading out to surround her and she knew if they succeeded she would most certainly die. Jumping back, she snatched her collapsible crossbow from its holster and fired two shots. The first caught the third male in the throat stopping him instantly as he threw his hands up to stop the bleeding. The second bolt was wide of her target and sailed through the air to thud into the chest of another soldier hundreds of feet away that was about to kill an injured white she-wolf.

Thrusting her crossbow back into its holster, she drew her long knife again while emitting a loud warbling whistle signaling she was in trouble. The problem was that none of her Animals were nearby. The fourth male charged in too quickly, thinking her defenseless while switching weapons, and indeed she was, but thankfully reversed her hand on the hilt her knife and managed to deflect his sword at the cost of a gouge across her forearm and hip. With her other blade she slashed across his neck nearly decapitating him as she felt the last six inches of her blade scrape across his spine.

Pirouetting backwards, dancing from side to side, dodging away from her second attacker, she didn't see the first one line her up in the sights of his crossbow and pull the trigger. A bolt thudded into her back just below her ribs, puncturing her liver, the second hit her in the side slashing through her intestines. Staggering to a finish of her pirouette, a third bolt impaled her breast, punched through her ribcage, passed through her lung before blowing out of her back between her shoulder blade and spine. Stunned and barely standing, the second male sauntered up and thrust his dirk into her belly, stabbed upward until the tip punctured her heart, and twisted as he exhaled satisfaction into her face. Unable to breathe, her mouth quivered as he licked sweat and blood from her lips. With a smile he gave her a push backwards so that she fell off his blade.

Collapsing to the floor, laying there wheezing and coughing weakly, her body gave little shudders as the first of the four traitors walked up and cast his crossbow down before pulling a dagger from a sheath and cutting her britches off, exposing her femininity to him. Then buttoning his own britches, he pulled out his dick and knelt down and gathered up her legs as he sneered, "See, it is as I told you. You won't live but a few minutes more. Now, let's see if you are any good at what a woman is properly made for?"

She didn't have long to live, she knew this, but as he entered her, she knew this was not how she wanted to die either. With all the strength she had left she slung her arm with her knife reversed in her hand and slammed it into his ribs as he leaned in over her. His sneer became an open mouth gasp of shock as the knife blade cut through lung and heart. Urthrina watched with satisfaction as his eyes watered and glazed over while his remaining companion screamed and charged over. To her regret she felt warmth bloom in her belly and the jetting spray of his ejaculation as his body did its best to continue a dead man's lineage. As the last spark of life inside his eyes went out, he collapsed on top of her.

Screaming in outrage, the second and last foe wrenched his companion off of her and pulled her long knife from his friend's chest. Reversing it in his hand he howled as he stabbed her from her chest to her belly, repeatedly, over and over and over...

She felt her own knife impale her over and over and over again until, at last, what life that was left in her was snuffed out and her indigo eyes dimmed as they glazed over...

She didn't see the bright white mithril head of a massive dvergr warhammer crush the skull of her last attacker, sending him sailing ten yards through the air before hitting the ground and sliding another five to never rise again. And she didn't feel that same burly flaming red bearded shade gently pick her up and carry her back to several shadow priestesses that gathered into a circle of thirteen and linked hands before chanting the words of a large area-of-effect Resurrection spell no one was able to hear but Sulabha.

——(!)——

The air smelled like blood, urine, and feces. Sinaan inhaled deeply then immediately rubbed at his nose trying to block the smell as he stood quietly at Forelain's side and looked out over the training grounds. It had become the burial tomb of House Faline. Moans of the wounded and dying replaced the sounds of clashing steel on steel and steel on flesh.

Shadow warriors, the dead of House Faline, summoned by Sulabha to be her personal army swept over the battlefield searching out warriors with red armbands so as to render aid. As half of them searched, the others quickly dispatched the last of Gunngrul's usurpers and rebels. It was almost pitiable to watch as they slashed and hacked at the shades and shadows only to find out their weapons did nothing to stop them. Only magic and weapons imbued with it injured the shadows for any length of time. Otherwise it was like cutting water, as soon as their blades passed through the shadows mended and retaliated by driving daggers, swords, axes, spears, or halberds through the remaining resistance. Within moments of arriving only pockets of fighting remained, and of nearly six hundred men and women there were less than a hundred now left standing.

Sulabha approached Sinaan and nodded grimly before standing on the opposite side of her mother. The still naked shadow of Lumarra walked up and knelt before her and said something no one but she heard and nodded to. Once Lumarra was finished with her report Sulabha turned to Forelain and filled them in, "My shadows are searching the dead for survivors. Another group is separating the dead loyalists to you, mother, from the companions of my brothers. Paralleling my warrior's efforts, Lumarra and my priestesses are reviving or resurrecting as many as they can. They seem to be as concerned as you are for the survival of House Faline…"

"Of course they would daughter," Forelain signed, "They are your foremothers, aunts, and cousins. They lived their lives dedicated to the growth and prosperity of House Faline. I can't imagine that even in death, and a shadow of their once glorious selves, that there isn't some shadow of the loyalty, love, and concern they once had for our once great House."

"Maybe," Sulabha retorted with a shrug, unconcerned, "However, their holy spells draw directly from my reservoir of life-force, and the cost is three times higher since their magic and mine are in direct conflict with each other."

Pointing to her upper abdomen, just below her sternum, where her stomach was located she continued, "Thankfully I have extra life-force of all the Wells of Mind, Soul, and Power to sustain me from all the people Hayden had me consume so he could plant assassin's in their bodies. However, despite the drain on my life-force, the resurrection spells must be cast soon or none will be able to be brought back. This means that once alive and healed to the point of not being in critical condition, Lumarra and the others have orders to let the injured recover on their own, and any nonfatal wounds will just have to be suffered with."

"What about the rest," Sinaan asked as he nodded out at all the dead bodies, "The ones that can't be revived?"

"In every corpse is a shadow of the person that once lived. It resided in their magic within their Wells of Spirit, Soul, and Power," Sulabha answered, "I can only take a person's whole life-essence by a contract established when they are alive, much like Succubi and other even more nefarious demons do. I don't know what happens upon death, but what I do know is that once dead the majority of a person's Spirit, Soul, and Power is simply...gone...leaving behind the shadow within. This is what I take, what I summon to rise again and fight for me, and that is what I will do with all of those that can not be revived."

"Sulabha," Forelain signed as she turned to her daughter, "Stay here and continue the recovery…"

"No," She answered with a shake of her head, "I'm coming with you. My um...Grimasalas…"

"Grimasalas? Shadow-souls?" Sinaan interrupted as he rolled the word around in his mouth.

"Yes, I just came up with it," Sulabha chuckled, before continuing, "They're not technically zombies, shades, wraiths, wights, or any other type of undead. Technically speaking they aren't even undead at all, they are shadows of the once living beings. Shadow's that I stitch to my own so that they become part of me. Anyway, once summoned they can work independent of me as long as there are shadows nearby to retreat to should they be overpowered. So, they will continue healing the living, reviving the almost dead, and resurrecting the dead. As for those they can't, that is the good thing about the dead; they aren't going anywhere."

"Fine," Forelain signed, her expression aggravated and her signing sharp and agitated, "Sinaan, please find Trina and bring her to me."

Looking around, he didn't have to go far to find her. She was kneeling down beside another svartalf woman with short pixie-styled strawberry blonde hair and ebony skin that seemed ashen. She was caressing the woman's cheek and speaking quietly to a male fox and she-wolf while four sven'dahl stood nearby looking nervous. Walking up behind Trina, he put his hand on her shoulder as he said in a low voice, "I'm truly sorry about your friend. Will she recover?"

"She will," She answered with a nod, "They said it will take time though. They revived her just before she was...fully dead. I'm not sure I understand the difference. Anyway, they healed her to the point where she is no longer in critical condition, but they can't afford to fully heal her with so many still needing resurrection, reviving, and healing."

He nodded, having just heard the same from Sulabha. Squeezing her shoulder he said, "That's good to hear. I'm happy for you, and her," then squeezing her shoulder again he apologized, "However, I'm sorry to pull you away from her, but Forelain has sent me to fetch you."

He watched as she cupped Urthrina's cheek in the palm of her hand before kneeling down further and pecking the woman's lips softly with a kiss. It always thrilled and weirded him out to see women showing such intimate affection for one another. When she stood up, he accepted her and their relationship, and when her indigo and his pink eyes met, he gave her a nod before turning and leading the way back to Forelain.

"...with one renegade son dead, and the other two missing, we can't afford to have you, a half-breed, seen by the Matron of our long time rivals," Forelain signed in sharp angry gestures towards Sulabha.

"I...don't...care mother," Sulabha retorted, "I long ago rejected this family. I want no part of it. You can make one of those inbreds in your belly the heir for all I care. I will help you kill Hayden and Gunngrul, I am going to do that anyway even if it isn't a help, and then, I am gone!"

"Fine!" Forelain signed sharply and shrieked in anger, "Your words are heard, accepted, and witnessed. You are no longer a member of House Faline. You are an outcast with no family and no House. Henceforth, you will be known as Sulabha Fjolkyngi-Bol daughter of Hrun'durgahl Logijarn!"

"Fine," Sulabha screamed as tears of anger and frustration coursed down her cheeks, "Your words are heard, accepted, and witnessed!"

Sinaan and Trina just stood a short distance away as all the movement in the training grounds came to an eerie halt. Forelain sighed exasperatedly and shook her head as she turned away from Sulabha to face Sinaan and Trina and began signing, "Trina, before these witnesses, I hereby promote you to the position of my interim-Steward until Anarr can be found," Pulling a large pendant of the shield of House Faline painted on it out of her bottomless bag, and also four ornamental bars that denoted Trina's new station and rank within the House, Forelain pinned them to the breast of Trina's tattered shirt and once finished and her hand's were free, she continued, "As my Steward, my will is your will, you work on my behalf, and your word carries the weight of my authority behind it. With this new authority I commission you with the task of gaining entry to the Nursery and ousting the traitorous Chamberlain and Master of the Wardrobe, and investigate where Anarr Beinbrekka and her family have disappeared to."

"Yes Matron Forelain," Trina answered as she sank down on bended knee and kissed the knuckles of Forelain's hands before turning them over and kissing her palms.

Standing up and stepping backwards, Trina saluted as she promised, "I will exercise this new authority at my Matron's pleasure for the benefit and growth of House Faline!"

"Good," Forelain signed, bringing the ritual to it's finish before continuing as everyone in the training grounds went back to work, "I must leave with Sinaan. We should return within a fortnight. If for some reason I do not return, you must find an heir from within the Nursery, and then govern House Faline in my stead until the heir is of age."

"Yes Matron," Trina agreed with another bow.

Forelain nodded and then looked to Sinaan and signed, "Then it is time to go."

Nodding he fell in behind and followed as she led the way, but before leaving the training grounds Beinbalkr led Aldrnari, Deild, Aetla, Katr, and Baer of the half-breeds, Istas the she-wolf, and Svartsilki and Gloa the two sven'dahl to intercept them. As the Pantler drew up in front of them she set the head of 'Tenderizer' on the floor and knelt before beseeching, "Matron Forelain, we just received you back from the dead, so please, allow me and my maids to accompany you as attendants and guards?"

Forelain gazed at them for a long moment before she finally nodded, "If I go before Hela Abendroth with a guard it could be seen as hostile. Especially since I have her son in my perceived custody. However, attendants would be seen as less of a threat and more of a show of honor and wealth. Yes, fall in behind us."

Nodding in relief, Beinbalkr curtsied and then directed her maids to move aside and fall in. Before they reached the gates of the compound, Forelain took her attendants to the Quartermaster and had her outfit them with new uniforms, proper maids uniforms, with bustiers and corsets armored with mithril ribbing and chain mail overlaid with leather, and skirts with hidden compartments for new weapons befitting their station.