Warning: This chapter contains a brief description of violence and war. Viewers discretion advised.
The ground shook with the force of a hundred hooves pounding against it as the horses surged forward, their riders urging them on through the rough forest ground. The night air was thick and cold as the horses and their riders raced towards the battle ahead.
At the head of the charge, King Krov rode fiercely, his movements confident and assured as he rode his horse forward. He was dressed in ornate armor, the metal shining dimly in the light of the moon. His face was etched in an intense frown as he remembered everything Elara had told him a few hours ago.
He couldn't afford to waste any more time, not when his kingdom was at stake. With the flick of a finger, the entire warriors were summoned to the palace ground, eager to battle like the hunt for blood was imprinted in their middle names.
"Kill every last one of them. No one is to be spared" - Krov recalled the command he had given.
Hamletvale had brought this upon themselves. There was no mercy, especially now that he had to go into the battlefield himself.
His jaw tightened as he kicked the sides of his horse, the armor rattling and clattering as he charged through the paths.
...
Night time crept upon the kingdom of Hamletvale like a thick blanket of fog. Nestled in between the forest and the mountains, Hamletvale is a kingdom marked by its vulnerability and weakness. The kingdom is relatively small in size and is home to a population of halfbreeds and minor creatures, who were constantly seeking protection due to their inherent weakness.
It is often considered a minor kingdom and is most times forgotten by its neighboring lands, as they are not of any immediate concern or threat. Although being a minor kingdom, peace was never really known to them.
The strong would always prey on the weak, it was an hierarchy system that goes back as long as time itself. This was why it wasn't really a surprise when they heard the thundering sound of horses in their sleep.
Alarms were quickly fired, signaling the people of the danger heading their way. Although they weren't sure what and who was coming for them this time, they knew they had to prepare in order to protect the resources they had left.
The sound of metal clashed through the air as people rushed to gather weapons, their movements urgent and desperate, but sadly, they weren't quick enough…
The watchguards had sounded the alarm too late, the Valguardian's had closed up on them, marching through the wooden gates before they could secure their locks.
King Krov had struck first. In rage, he had drawn out his sword, claiming the life of four guard men all at once. His movements were fast and powerful, his strikes precise and calculated. He fought with a grim, ruthless expression on his face, his every movement fueled by a heart that was black with cruelty.
There was no mercy or hesitation in his eyes as he faced his opponents, only the satisfaction of gaining victory and saving his people. He had spared their lives long long ago, and they had repaid him with a cruel fate. He couldn't care less how many fell to his feet as he surged on.
** ** **
In a little cottage at the far end of the kingdom, a woman sat, dressing her child up in the thickest woolen cloak she could find. Her daughter was only five years old, and though she wanted to make this quicker, she knew in her heart they could only survive the mountains in warmer clothing.
"Listen closely to mama's words. You're not to speak unless I tell you, okay?" the woman muttered, tightening the cloak's clasp.
The little girl nodded, her green eyes fixed on her mother's sweaty face as she struggled to put her boots on her feet. Finally, the woman applied some mud on her daughter's face, to completely hide her complexion and help her blend into the shadows.
The night was chaotic. The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke, blood and fear. Fire crackled, buildings burned and the sounds of screams could be heard from every corner.
Freya knew it wouldn't be easy, getting her and her daughter out of the Kingdom safe without any troubles but she knew she had to try. She knew how to fight, her father had taught her how to defend herself in childhood, but it wasn't easy to do that with a little child involved.
She had to be careful, precise and most especially, with luck.
In a swift movement, she ran into the night, clutching her daughter tight against her body. The little girl clung to her mother's chest, her ears picking the sound of her mother's heartbeat, slamming across her ribs as she sped through and behind the buildings.
The city she had spent her five years of life, was currently being burned to the ground. They had been raids like this, mother would tuck her under the bed and cover her with wheat baskets while the attackers took what they came for. But this was the first time she heard screams this loud and saw fires this wild.
Even in her young mind, she could sense that something terrible was happening. She closed her eyes, biting her lips as she silently wished for their safety.
Unfortunately, tonight wasn't one of those days were wishes come true…
King Krov had the upper hand, his soldiers surrounding the kingdom, preventing any source of escape. The elves and halflings put on a good fight, trying to protect their family and Kingdom but they were clearly out marched.
Blood splattered across the land time and time again, swords slicing through flesh and bones shattering under the hooves of the horses. In no time, the men were wiped out and what was left were the women and children who had been gathered together by some of Krov's men in the middle of the kingdom.
All the houses around were either burnt down or wrecked to pieces, there was nowhere to hide and no place of escape.
"It reeks, I've never been more irritated by seeing blood before" sir Mordred remarked, wiping the blood on his sword on the body of a dead halfling he had slain.
"We are not here to feed off them, that should be the least of your concern" said king Krov to his friend.
His eyes glistened with something far from amusement as his horse circled the multitude of people his men had dragged and fished out from the buildings. If he was going to kill both women and children, he planned to do it all at once. He paid deaf ear to their screams and wails as his eyes searched through the vast chaos.
"Are these all of them ?" he asked, his voice loud and authoritative, demanding a clear answer.
"We believe so, sire, but we are not entirely sure, it is difficult to say until we have finished sweeping the area" one of the king's men replied.
"Then get to it, the night is far spent" he kissed his teeth as he walked away.
. . . . . .
Meanwhile, Freya hid with her daughter in the remains of a burnt up hovel. The heat from the flames were still present, and the smoke was thick and choking, but she couldn't move. The soldiers lurked around every corner. One wrong move could lead to their end.
She could sense that the situation was dire, the chances of escaping were slipping away with each passing moment. Her mind raced, trying to come up with a plan to escape the nightmare as she held her child tightly to her chest, shielding her from the worst of the fire and smoke.
Suddenly, Freya felt her daughter shaking in her arms. She removed the hood of her cloak and found her sobbing silently. Her small lips tucked together to hide the sounds.
"Shhh, don't cry. What is it ?" she asked her daughter in hushed tones.
The little girl didn't respond, her eyes wet, tears rolling down her cheeks and leaving traces on her face that was once covered in dirt. She slowly loosened her hands that were still clutching her mother's back, her fingers burnt up from the heat.
Freya's heart sizzled when she saw the fresh burns.
"You should have told me" she queried, blowing soft breeze with her lips on her daughter's hands to try to suit the sting.
"mama said not to speak else she tells me to". The little girl grits her teeth, her small frame trembling with fear and pain. Her green eyes darted around the area, taking in the happenings all around her.
Her mother smiled faintly, a teardrop rolling down her cheek as she placed her daughter down on the floor before placing her hands on her little girl's shoulders.
"You are such a brave and strong little girl," she spoke gently, her voice steady despite the turmoil around them.
"I'm so proud of you" Freya said, her words sincere as she pulled her daughter into a tight embrace. She clung tightly to her mother, her little hands trembling as she clutched the fabric of her mother's dress, seeking comfort in the familiar embrace.
"Now listen up closely. The journey is going to get tougher now, we cannot afford to waste anymore time, okay ?" She spoke quickly but steadily.
The little girl nodded, the pain on her fingers numb and long forgotten as she stared at her mother with a determined look.
"There are soldiers looking around for us, if we stay here we are going to get caught so we must move now."
Her daughter nodded again, paying attention to every word. She didn't know why the soldiers were looking for them, but she understood that bad things would happen if they got caught, so she had to listen attentively.
"and finally…," she paused, stroking her daughter's hair. Although she was determined to keep her safe, the odds were against them and she knew that the chances of them escaping together was slim.
"When mama says run, you run. You do not look back, and you do not stop, okay ?" Freya spoke firmly, her eyes searching her daughter for answers but the little girl remained quiet.
"Do you understand me ?" she asked, her grip tightening on her daughter's shoulders.
"Mama would be right behind me?" the child suddenly asked.
"Yes dear, mama would always be with you, she would always be right behind you" Freya smiled, hugging her daughter once more. She had no clue how true her words would be, but she had to be strong for both of them.
With a new found strength and determination, they continued their journey, making their way through the town, dodging burning buildings and staying low to the ground to avoid being seen.
Just as they made their way around a burning debris, in a dark alley right across from their hiding spot, they came across a woman. Statled, Freya stumbled backwards, tightening her arms around her daughter.
The other woman was injured, a boulder sat on her right leg, crushing it to bits. Her eyes were teary as she stared at Freya, her lips trembling as she attempted to speak.
"H..Help" she stammered.
"Please."
"I can't," Freya replied, her voice just as low.
"I'm sorry" she added quickly, her heart heavy as she moved out of her hiding place. She looked around the area, making sure there was no sign of soldiers before advancing carefully.
"Please come back, I do not wish to die here, please…please help!" the woman suddenly yelled, her eyes blinded with fear as she screamed.
"Do not go away, please !".
In minutes, a group of soldiers appeared out of nowhere, their weapons drawn as their eyes scanned through the area, looking for the source of the sound. One of the soldiers spotted them and shouted out to his comrades.
The woman's cry had attracted the soldiers to them and there was nothing they could do anymore. In a moment of fear and desperation, Freya lowered her daughter to the ground.
"Run, now !" she yelled, pushing her towards the opposite direction.
The little girl barely had the chance to catch the frightened look on her mother's face before she was pushed forward. Her legs took charge immediately, running as fast as her small frame could allow her.
She remembered her mother's words, every single part of it. She was to run and to never look back. She heard the sound of weapons, a scream from a person she hoped wasn't her mother as she increased her pace, huffing as she jumped over the pieces of woods scattered across the road path.
The road was covered with smoke, thick and black. She could barely see and her small heart thumped hardly in her chest as she pushed through the thick fog.
Just then, her body came in contact with a moving horse. It's strong legs sending her tumbling a few feet away.
King Krov heard the loud thud, his ears picking the sharp sound of a heart racing before slowing down. It didn't stop, barely beating but still alive. Quickly, he stopped his horse, jumping down with his sword in his hand.
He approached the body with curiosity in his eyes. He was sure it wasn't an animal he had hit, even an animal would have made a sound but the body remained quiet, almost lifeless but he could see it move.
He bent downwards beside it, slowly taking off its cloak. His gaze softened ever so slightly as he stared at the face of a little girl. She looked weak and frail, but she was far from frightened. She held his sharp gaze, her eyes burning through his battle-hardened exterior he had formed over the years.
Suddenly he unsheathed his sword, and with a precision sharp as a hawk's eye, he struck.
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