In his arms lay a beautiful girl… In his arms lay the Emperor's daughter. Lay the person he… he… Her.
Ariana Malivéré.
What the… hell—?
The elegance of her face was no longer as blood blemished her features. Hair of coffee in color, scorched at the ends, matted in crimson. Porcelain skin turned pale from blood loss.
Is she… dead?
The brown of her hair, the gentleness of her face, and the softness of her skin were ruined by the macabre of death. His hands. Blood on his hands.
My hands. Her blood. My blood?
It clung to her cheeks, her neck, his fingers as he dragged her closer. He looked into her eyes, the deep crimson rouge of her eyes stared back at him, but they did not look at him. They did not see him. Wide and lifeless were the nature of her eyes, and for some reason… it hurt. There was no life in her eyes, only the reflection of chaos engulfing the world around them.
The ground quaked. People seemingly ran for their lives. Shouts erupted, stinging his ears. Fire glowed, imbuing the midnight sky with the orange hue of flame. But none of that mattered; in this very moment, it was only him and the girl in his arms.
Sora gaped around himself, panic building relentlessly, twisting his heart into knots until it bled with pain. He was on the ground, on the concrete streets of Vangardia's royal capital, not far from the ceremonial hall where his recognition had just been held. The ceremonial hall he was just in.
What am I seeing? Am I not dead? What is this? It hurts. Why does it hurt? Where does it hurt.
Save me, he thought, save me, he thought, save me, he thought, and he thought, and he thought.
Save us… Save her.
His voice wouldn't come. His thoughts never settled. His arms only tightened around her on their own, a desperate instinct he did not understand. A movement—the only movement he could manage, the only thing to keep him sane.
What's happening to me? Aren't I... dead?
His trembling right hand rose, ungloved and scarred. He brushed her left cheek with the back of his fingers. I never told it to.
Her skin was cooling. Her skin was soft. His thumb passed over a small beauty mark just below the corner of her left eye, an intimate detail he should not have known, should not have touched.
But despite that, he could not help but bask in it, the warmth of what passed behind his touch, holding a history he did not understand.
"A—Ariana," his mouth managed, without command or control of his own, and he could only watch in horror as a spectator in his own body.
Her maroon and black robes hid the thick blood. But I can tell—I can tell…
Involuntarily, I choke back a sob. My chest tightens, and my throat feels like it's collapsing under the weight of my own failure. I whisper her name, almost inaudibly, as if saying it might bring her back.
"Aria…"
***
Military boots pressed down on the ground, leaving footprints and small amounts of dirt kicking up in their wake under the evening orange hue of the setting sun, a pang of purple apricot within the orange of the sky, growing ever more with each passing minute as night drew closer.
Gunshots were fired in the distance, resounding across the vast skies. Runes were cast, and spells damaged. Battle cries echoed alongside them, but the roars and growls of ferocity accompanied, as if some feral army of rabid monsters were unleashed upon the soldiers that continued to kick up dirt with each step they took.
The night sky set in, the moonlight casting a silver glow across the battlefield. A battlefield without balance, as a variety of scarps decorated the dry, dirt-filled land.
"Grr!" A beast lunged out of the dark, pinning down one of the moving soldiers against the earth. Nothing but the flash of blonde hair dropping to the ground under the weight of a silhouette of something humanoid but monstrous was visible beneath the moonlit skies.
"Ahh—!"
"LightningBolt!" A voice like a silver bell in nature rang in panicked crackles over the comm unit, blinking in yellow lights at the attacked young boy's left cheek.
As for where the voice came from. The mobile command center unit, armored from the outside yet designed on the inside more like a room that was comfortable in nature, far away from the battlefield and safe behind the city walls. Safe.
A blue dot on the holographic map attached high on one of the room's corners blinked, indicating his comm unit was active.
And for sure, it was active.
The soldier screamed. But it was not a singular, abrupt scream, but a stretched, raw scream.
He wailed, he cried. "P—please!!! NO!!!"
Then static as the line cut and the blue dot marking LightningBolt faded out of existence.
"I—I'm sorry…" the young girl managed through her muffled sobs. "I'm so so sorry…"
Cry—that was all she could do.
Tears slowly welled up at the edges of her crimson eyes—large, doe-like, almond-shaped eyes, bright with tenderness despite the dark shade of her crimson rouge irises, soft at the edges and framed by dark lashes, yet still somehow resolute, as the tears that dampen her lashes streamed down her cheeks.
And yet still, her orders did not fail. Through her tears, she persevered.
Outside, the death count only rose on both sides as monsters and humans alike fell. Some humans screamed, some whimpered, some fought with hopeless rage. Sparks flared and metal singed where soldiers wielded magic-infused blades. Fireballs scorched the air. Shields shimmered under spells of protection. Guns fired rapidly or singularly. And yet the corrupted beasts did not give in.
A veteran soldier with brown hair and gray eyes and a stubble that framed his jaw stepped forward with a magic-infused weapon of intricate technology, reminiscent of a sniper rifle. In front of him, tattered clothing framed a humanoid being with pitch-black skin. Black and void-like, pupil-less eyes stared back at the soldier who made note of the slight twitch of the enemy combatants' elongated ears.
Dark elves. They make up the bulk of the Servant's armies. Of course, this is what we damned ainks have to deal with.
His comm unit crackled as further orders came through:
"Major Ariana to Winchester, move to point 157-450-234. Put that weapon of yours to good use."
The soldier raised a finger to the comm unit at his left cheek and answered back, his voice gruff in nature.
"Roger."
Back in the command center, The Girl of Wine Eyes racked her brain for answers. After all, what could have exacted such a harsh, large-scale offensive from the enemy force?
Instinctively, her eyes hopped back and forth across the room, to the other commanding officers shouting orders, to the holographic maps decorating the walls and corners of the room.
What could've caused this?
It was afternoon when reports first came in of the dark elves and corrupted monsters approaching the Empire's borders. And yet, she could've never imagined the force to be this large.
Her father departed this morning to celebrate Crown Prince Sora's recognition ceremony, as was his duty as the Emperor. And so, it fell to her to protect the Empire. At least that is what she believed.
But what an awful job I'm doing….
Ariana's mind scrambled for answers.
Could they handle this large force? Probably. But the losses would be heavy. Why?! Why did they attack all of a sudden without warning?! This stupid war.
All the sounds around her seemed to momentarily fade into the background as the yelling of her battalion's soldiers resounded in her ears. Crackling through the comm unit, flaring red until…
Pew.
"Ow—!"
Ariana reflexively lifted her hands to her left cheek, smoke curling out of the comm unit as its color dimmed. It overheated. She snatched it, dropping it to the floor at her side without ceremony, her eyes darted once more until it landed on a single handgun strewn atop a metal desk surrounded by commanding officers still yelling commands into their comm units.
She strode toward it, her military boots clattering against the metallic floors. Then she extended her arm out, grabbed the handgun, and checked the chamber before turning on her heel and striding toward the exit door.
"Your Highness, what are you doing?" The steady voice of a young woman called to her—Major Winter.
Ariana turned to face her with stiffened shoulders and a gun held tightly in her grasp. Her eyes shimmered with determination and leftover tears, perhaps a little lunacy too.
"I'm going out there."
"..."
Major Winter cocked her head, her silvery pink hair falling sideways with the motion, cascading over the dark uniform blazer, over her shoulder.
"I have to—"
"No."
"No?"
"No. You're a commanding officer, not a frontline operator."
"But—"
"No."
And then, as if this were a mundane task she got over with, she turned away from Her Highness, returning to her seat as she continued saying commands into her comm unit in unnatural calmness, yet weirdly normal for someone like her.
Blinking her eyes in confusion, Ariana lifted the gun slightly, looking down on it with a solemn, sullen expression.
What can I do…?
After a few seconds of careful consideration, she took a few steps to the corner of the room where a few other officers stood, swapping positions when one needed a break.
But she did not need a break.
"Lieutenant Colonel, you're on break, right? Can I borrow your comm unit?"
The young boy turned his head with a cup of coffee in his hand, his boyish features only accentuated by his jagged, long hair, ginger in color to match his ginger eyes, and complementing the maroon tie of the uniform.
"Y—Your Highness!" he stammered, already moving his free hand to the comm unit at his cheek.
"I'm on duty. I am not Your Highness."
"R—right, Major!"
Tossing the comm unit while holding a breath, only letting out said breath when Ariana caught it with her fair hands. She winced instinctively the moment she wore it and turned it on as monstrous and human screams crackled through from the other end of the line.
Gritting her teeth, she ordered through the unit, the gun still held tight in her grip.
"Override, all units. This is Major Ariana Malivéré. I command you to adopt formation five, all operators with sniper-related weapons, make your way to point 157-450-234."
The night stretched on, the moon rose higher, twilight approached, soldiers and beasts alike fell and died. And the battle had only begun.