Flashback: Tialan Beginning

Posted on Sat Nov 4th, 2017 @ 1:47am by Staff Sergeant Nyx'e'Trixe Valentine

Mission: https://wellington.pegasusfleet.site/index.php/sim/missions/id/3
Location: Mar'i'tiera Province, Tial
Timeline: March 14th, 2388

The thirteen year old girl looked into the woods across from where her hundred-strong unit had been set up under her command. Her chest heaved with the anticipation, the terror of what was about to happen. This part of the forest had been fought over for the last decade with little to no progress made by either side. Yet it almost didn't seem to matter. Both sides wanted it, so both sides fought to have it. She didn't need to know the WHY of it, she just had to follow orders. She wiped some sweat on the shoulder of her white armor, the anticipation likely worse than the action.

The humidity in the jungle was oppressive, which also all but guaranteed that the chemical rifles that some of her most trustworthy people had would not work well or at all. It was going to be bow-work and swords and shields. A signal horn sounded from behind her, brain automatically translating that as 'Prepare to attack' and the girl sucked in a larger than normal breath through her heaving chest. "Vitora!" (Company!) She called to her troops, who all dropped their make-work and grabbed their weaponry that was near them, mostly shorter swords and shields, none as elaborately made and maintained as the sword she slowly drew from the sheath on her hip, "Tserat u morinish!" (Prepare to attack!)

As her soldiers formed up in front of her, the girl looked to each side, to the left, another priestess, just like her brand new in her first combat, just like her with her dark hair, grinned at her and thrust one of her paired swords in the air in salute. This girl returned it. To the right, another priest of the same rank, a blonde, sneered at her as he pushed his own unit to readiness, then turned away.

And that was all the time she had before a mob crashed into her force without so much of a warning as a shout. The enemy had achieved tactical surprise, most likely either capturing or outright butchering her scouts and keeping such iron discipline over their own soldiers that there had been no hint of their presence until several of her troops were down and dead or dying. Even that didn't phase this girl-priestess. They were only Sentar, they were replaceable.

Spinning, the girl swung her sword down and deflected a powerful sword stroke from one of the Sentar of the enemy force, then in an economical move, opened her throat and deflected another sword swing to the side. A faint purple glow began to surround he as she let her mind defocus on the specific events around her and into what she trained for.

What she lived for.

She didn't know when she'd come across the second sword, it hadn't been her normal style as she'd grown up, but the girl-priestess knew as soon as she'd picked it up in this her first real combat that it was how she was going to fight.In spots across the battlefield, golden lights were seen here and there, marking the location of a priestess or priest through the dim haze of the Sentar soldiers. A glint of light caught her eye and she lowered herself by an inch and a half and let the arrow skitter off the top of her shoulder, throwing the second sword in a practiced move towards the bowman that had taken her to target in her white armor. Not surprisingly, the sword fell short, but distracted the bow-wielder enough for the girl to fade into the rest of the fight.

Quickly it was obvious that this was the primary push point of the enemy force and she heard the sound of reserves coming to their support. The glow of an oncoming priest cut through the haze in front of her and the regular soldiers seemed to part for them. When he finally broke through the group, cutting down one of her troops in the process, he looked around and when his eyes hit hers, she saw the revulsion in them. "Sentar priestess." He hissed at her, bringing his sword, longer than hers, into a two handed grip in front of him. He was the same rank as she was, she noticed, but a few years older than her. "Nitelia." (Monster) He spat at her, then swung.

Holding her own blade in both hands, the girl deflected the swing rather than try to stop it, knowing the differences in strength were massive, she was forced, as always right now, to rely on speed and guile. She faked a slash at his legs before throwing a true half-hearted cut that he caught on his blade, then swung it wide and brought his blade down into a slash that hit empty air as she let the momentum of his parry carry her blade, then flipped her blade's edge and added strength to it with a skip-spin on her left that avoided his blade as her own bit into the back of his thigh, hamstringing him. His leg gave out on him even as she reversed the blade's motion and shoved it into his side, his own weight helping to impale him on he blade. Two of her troops were by her side in an instant as she worked her sword free from the new corpse, protecting her.

She took a couple steps back, blade in a low-ready position as her two 'protectors' went back to the fight, then looked over towards her friend, her own blade bloody and who was engaged in a fight with five enemy Sentar and was heavily pressed. The fifteen-year old was holding her own, however, and in the best traditions of a priestess, didn't seem to be overly concerned. A bright glow caught the girl's eye and she looked back to where a red-armored priestess and two others in the same white as her entered the battle with the reinforcements. The red armor meant a Priestess Third Class, a higher rank and by a fierce winnowing out in combat more than likely better than any of the others on the field.

Even as she looked over her troops, gaining the upper hand in her section of the field, she saw the new priestess and her consorts work their way to her friend, who had cut down one of her attackers, but was bleeding from a minor wound. Like a whirlwind, the two white-armored priest and priestesses engaged the other four from behind, dispatching them rapidly and the third class put a hand on the fifteen-year old's shoulder. The dark-haired priestess turned excitedly to the older priestess, then her eyes went wide as the higher ranked sword buried itself in her chest.

The girl could only watch as her friend's eyes flashed towards her in response to whatever the other priestess was saying, her friend's racing heart destroying itself on the blade that was sharper than a razor. Then suddenly, the sword was pulled out and the teenager was released to fall to the ground. One hand reached up weakly, grasped twice at the air, then fell limply to the ground. The higher-ranked priestess looked over towards the girl, then gestured at one of her consorts before moving forward into the fight.

With a perfunctory bow, the chosen priestess flipped her sword over her wrist, locked eyes on the girl and moved with a purpose. The girl only got her weapon interposed by a lucky chance, pushed back on the defensive, barely keeping up with blocks and parries as she was pushed back. The priestess was nearly eighteen versus the girl's thirteen years and had clearly been in a significant amount of combat. Her eyes were cold and calculating, gauging the girl's skill and speed, getting ready to exploit the weakest part of her style and end the fight. Some spark of recognition flashed into her eyes and the corner of her mouth flicked up in a very slight smirk.

The girl saw that and knew she had one chance only and now was the time to act. She changed her style and slashed high, bouncing her blade off of the adult's intentionally before releasing it completely and reversing her grip and grazing her blade along one of the older woman's hands, opening a wound and eliciting a slight gasp and a recoil. She pressed the attack, sliding her sword in the reversed grip between the woman's body and blade, pulling it outwards, then gripped the hand holding it and twisting outwards and down on the pressure point, forcing her to release the weapon. The girl grabbed the sword and stabbed downwards into the older girl's left calf, released that sword, put her second hand on her own grip, spun to her right and opened her from groin to left shoulder in a single stroke.

As the shriek that started suddenly cut off, the young girl let the tip of her sword rest on the ground, her chest heaving with the efforts of the last hour. Was it only that long? It felt like forever, her heart racing as the events replayed in her head at light speed. the blade tip dragged along the ground as the girl limped her way over to where her friend lay, finally realizing that somewhere, she had gotten a wound right above her knee. She fell to her knees, pushing her blade into the ground to keep it upright and grabbed the limp hand, "Cora..." She whispered, then suddenly felt the hand spasm, finally seeing the very shallow breaths that indicated her friend was clinging to life somehow. "Cora?"

"Nyx..." The teenager opened her eyes slowly, obvious that the energy it drained from her was coming to an end, "Til..las... Kill... You..." The pain-filled eyes met the girl's own, "Be... Safe... Love... Yo.." She gasped, finally exhaling completely, eyes staring at eternity.

The girl, Nyx'e'Trixe, squeezed the hand of the dead girl hard, shaking her friend's shoulder, "Cora? Cora'e'Soleri, wake up!" She cried, tears falling freely as the battle vanished into the distance.

She was still there when a bright golden glow all but strolled onto the battlefield, silver armor fairly glowing as well, the sign of a Priestess Sixth Class, the equivalent of a general, surveying the damage done to the army. Three others stopped at the edge of the battlefield, purple, green and red armor keeping a sentry watch for their superior. Nyx's hand pulled her sword out of the ground and into a slash towards the high-ranking priestess's knees, but was blocked effortlessly. When she didn't didn't strike again, the priestess went to one knee, "The loss of a friend cuts deeper than your own wounds." She said quietly, "What is your name, Priestess?"

"Nyx'e'Trixe, My Lady." Nyx let gravity take the sword, but her hand never let go. A priestess never let go of their weapons. Under the command of-" She stopped as the older priestess waved it off with a gesture.

"And your friend?"

"Cora'e'Soleri, My Lady." Her life could be forfeit for attacking this priestess, but she was still alive so she was probably safe. The lack of using any last names wasn't for a lack of identification, but Sentar didn't HAVE them.

The eyes of the priestess were compassionate, despite the seasoned killer's look of them, "Well, Priestess First Class Nyx'e'Trixe, you have done well for your first combat. I truly am sorry for your friend, but she died honorably in combat."

"My Lady." Nyx'e'Trixe stopped hesitantly, but then bulled on, "She was killed by one of our own, Dread Lady. By a Priestess Third Class, Tilas'e'Tori, I do not know her last name, Dread Lady."

Something in the older priestess's eyes flashed and Nyx couldn't help but cringe back towards her dead friend, "There may not be much I can do about that, Nyx'e'Trixe, but I believe I know why." She glanced up towards her entourage, then crooked a finger towards the green-armored one, "Enta'e'Honir, you will prepare quarters for Nyx'e'Trixe. She will be transferred to Our headquarters guard where I can take her into my training." She looked to Nyx again, "You will not be safe, I take an active hand in my own plans."

"Safety is not in our lives, Dread Lady." Nyx all but shrugged, but eyes going down to the ground, "The only certainty is death, whenever it takes us."

"And our duty is not to die for nothing." The priestess stated, "Especially if it's true. Tilas is not known for her acceptance of this experiment, but she will not brook this. Are you prepared, priestess? This road will not be easy, will not be without pain and will not be safe. But, you will learn much, Nyx'e'Trixe, that I can promise you."

"Yes, Dread Lady, I am prepared." With an effort of will, Nyx'e'Trixe got to her feet. The older priestess reached out and took Cora's sword, handing it to Nyx.

"Keep this. She would want you to have it, I am certain. Hold it close and she will never leave you." She stood up and her eyes flitted around, "This is almost over. Take Cora'e'Soleri's body." She told one of the others, "We will give her a proper ceremony. Go get cleaned up, Priestess, there is much to do and not much time to do it in." Tria'a'neth ti'Dorand, soon to challenge and win the title of Light of the Northern Reach, stood as a gust of wind blew her blonde curls away from her face, "No, not much time indeed."

=/\=

Nyx'e'Trixe
Priestess First Class