Hedge Knight

Power coursed through her, a rush unlike anything that she felt before. To say that her senses were clearer was an understatement. Rather, it was as if she was feeling each sense for the first time. What was once white marble transitioned to gradients of whites and specks of gray that she did not notice before. The light itself became more defined, the threads of silver Aether throughout the air flowing from the Sword that lay in her hand. She breathed, taking in the smell of grass beneath her feet, the scent of salt in the air from the splashing waves she could now hear through the Shrine’s thick walls. 

She felt the wounds inflicted by Helbram close, the soreness in her face recede the more that the Sword’s strength flowed through her body. Out of the corner of her eye a streak of her red hair turned silver, and when she looked upon the fully unleashed blade of the Sword she saw that one of her eyes also held the color of the blade. She laughed, the euphoria that built at her chest too much to contain, and when her cheer subsided her eyes fell upon Helbram.

The Sword did not speak to her, but when her eyes fell upon the armored warrior, who had drawn his sword and readied his shield, she could feel it reach for him.

A scowl twisted her face, “I was the one to free you, and still you call out for him?”

She pointed the Sword at Helbram. Despite her enhanced senses she could not see any emotion betrayed by the warrior’s posture, nor from the face that was hidden by the visor of his full helm. She could only see that he was ready to fight.

A battle that she knew he could not win.

She kicked off of the ground, the force behind her feet denting the ground underneath her. In half a breath, she closed the gap between her and Helbram, who had preemptively put as much of himself as he could behind his damaged shield. A useless gesture, one that brought a smirk to her lips as a thought came to her mind. She swung the Sword against Helbram’s guard, feeling the blade bite into steel. Helbram must have anticipated this, for he jumped back with the blow and tilted his shield down, letting himself get knocked back rather than let the Sword cleave through his defenses. The force behind her blow knocked him into the wall, but the warrior managed to roll as he hit the stone and regained his footing. She frowned, both annoyed and admittedly impressed by Helbram’s tenacity, but that would only hold for so long. 

Her eyes searched her guard, looking for any gap in his defenses to exploit and strike at, and her opportunity came when his shoulder tilted down, revealing a gap that exposed his shoulder. She lunged as soon as the opening revealed itself, once again closing the gap between them in an instant. Rather than piercing through his armor, however, she found the Sword caught by Helbram’s own, the blade caught in his crossguard as he twisted his body and pushed the attack aside. The shock of the Sword being deflected gave Marjorie a brief pause, and in that opening Helbram delivered a strike across her chest. She felt nothing as the attack landed, its impact across her armor feeling little more than a scratch. The attack dealt her no damage, yet she felt herself go cold as it landed.

She should be crushing him.

He should be on his back, pleading for his life.

The Hawk whipped around, following Helbram as he stepped around her and back, keeping his shield between them the entire time. Her eyes were flared, teeth bared as she could feel nothing from the man as he readied his sword back. She gripped the Sword even tighter, reaching for more of its power.

Power that never came.

She paused, looking at the blade in her trembling hands, “Still you deny me?”

Helbram said nothing, and continued to create distance between them.

Marjorie felt herself shaking, not realizing till moments later that she was laughing. A sick, twisted laugh that was filled with that which burned at her chest.

Anger, its fire pure, its power raw.

Light exploded from her body and she pressed her will upon the Sword.

“It was I who drew you, it was I who freed you from your prison!” she screamed, “and you dare defy me?!”

She felt the block between them, like a valve that was mostly closed, leaking only the barest amount of power free from the reservoir that lay beyond. The Hawk pressed her mind against it, the images of the burning house in her mind.

She could see them.

See Sarah screaming for help as fire consumed her body.

Harold pleading for mercy as the blade pierced his chest.

Rachel choking from the arrow that protruded from her neck.

Daniel crying as the dagger was driven into his ribs.

Jeanne, Joseph, Charles, Robert…

Lisa, her vacant eyes staring at her, the laughter of men and women ringing through her empty gaze as fire trailed up her body, wrapping around the spears that impaled her.

Marjorie’s ears fell silent as her scream continued, curling her body as she threw her will against the Sword’s defenses. The fear of that day quaked her legs, the helplessness, the failure tore her heart asunder, drawing tears that flowed freely from her eyes. Her fingers trembled under the weight of that terrible day; that cruel, helpless night.

No more.

No more.

Her fingers stopped shaking, and she felt the valve move.

Marjorie’s vision went white as a pillar of silver light surged from her body and through the hole in the Shrine’s roof, piercing the night sky as her soundless scream carried it to the heavens.

As it faded, so did the weight that sat upon her shoulder.

“Your will is quite impressive,” the Sword said to her. His tone was cool, soothing, “Very well. Prove to me your worth.”

She looked down at the blade, seeing in her reflection that more of her hair had turned silver, but not all the way. Her eyes left the Sword and scanned the Shrine, falling upon Helbram, who was recovering to his feet, having been knocked from them from the burst of power moments ago. Remarkably, or perhaps expected at this point, the man had kept a hold of his weapons, and even as she felt the power radiate through her he slipped back into a stance, expression still unreadable behind that helmet of his. Anger burned through her once again.

Who was this man to be so powerless yet so defiant? 

She stepped towards him, intending to show him just how weak he was, but felt her body stop.

“Defeating a simple warrior is hardly noteworthy,” the Sword said to her, “Aim higher, or do you believe I should be wielded by one fueled by pettiness?”

A roar rang through the air, its once faded sound ringing clear in her enhanced ears, and it was then that she knew how she would prove herself.

She kicked off of the ground, speeding past Helbram with such speed and force that she blew the Shrine’s doors off of its hinges, splintering its make as her strides carried her across the bridge and into Southsheer. She saw Holden at the end of the bridge, the slight heave to his chest telling her he was still alive as he lay unconscious against the ground, stripped of his breastplate. There was a brief flash of relief in her chest upon the sight, but it was smothered by a growing sense of disappointment.

To be defeated again but just a normal man… pathetic.

The suddenness of the thought gave her pause and she looked back at the Sword, who remained silent. She shook her head and focused some of the Sword’s energy into her eyes, an instinctual action fueled by a mild awareness of the Sword’s capabilities, likely granted to her by the weapon itself. When she looked at the blade with her enchanted sight, she noted spools of threads flowing from the weapon and all across Southsheer. She traced a small cluster of them until her gaze was directed to Cliffside. Four threads lead in that direction, the brightest of them belonging to the Maiden and another, only marginally less lustrous thread belonging to Marcus, a chosen who would now never get a chance to prove himself. She knew one of the two remaining threads belonged to Geren, but both were of an equally dull color, and she could not tell who belonged to which. A spike of panic stabbed at her when one of the threads faded, but the feeling was soon suppressed as the Sword’s voice washed over her.

“Do you have time to linger?” he asked, “Prove yourself to me, or this power you wield is forfeit.”

She clenched the Sword’s handle and grit her teeth. He was right, but she would put this weapon in his place soon enough.

Marjorie resumed her charge through Southsheer, her steps carrying her meters in a single stride as she sped through the town’s square. Her body felt light, but at the same time she could still feel a wound tension behind it all, giving her a semblance of weight behind her movements. At her speeds, all around her should be a blur, but her vision remained clear throughout it all, letting her see the corpses of soldiers and beasts as they littered the streets. She averted her eyes away from the empty stares of the town’s dead defenders and pressed on, arriving at the town’s gate, and seeing her targets just beyond.

She paid no attention to the remaining defenders as she leapt over them and disregarded the half elf that stood in front of the Trolls. She would finish the beasts, and that would prove to all that she deserved to wield the Sword. The Hawk kicked herself from the ground, the Sword pointed towards the larger Troll’s heart as she sped forward in speeds she previously could not fathom.

Only for the Sword to pierce the beast’s arm as it blocked her.

THIS CORRUPTION… IT WAS YOU.

A fist struck Marjorie from the side, its size enough to encompass the entirety of her torso. A snap from her arm filled her ears as she twisted through the air, the shock from the blow making her numb even as she hit the ground meters away. She rolled as she landed, the rest of her senses still clear even as she took such an attack. Her broken arm hung limp at her side, but she kept a firm grip on the Sword with her dominant hand. The Hawk could feel its energy bleeding through her body, towards the fractured arm and to ribs that she did not even know were broken. Her arm jerked and spasmed as the energy mended her, producing a series of snaps and pops as her bones shifted back into place and fused their splintered remains back together. She felt a profound itch spread through her body as torn muscles were stitched back to their original form as well, a sensation that she was sure would cause her to vomit were she not channeling the Sword’s energy.

The Troll that struck her was smaller than her original target, but the rage in its eyes was far more intense.

MURDERER!

It roared, produced a wave of raw force, and as it struck Marjorie the image of a small Troll pressed into her mind. He would have been no bigger than her, indicating that he was a child. He looked at her, his smile filled with the innocence and joy that only a child could possess.

A smile that Harold once gave her.

The image was wiped from her mind as quickly as it came and she shook her head. She couldn’t get distracted, not now that she was facing two Trolls. The smaller of the two, the Mother, was surging with yellow Aether as she slammed her fists into the ground, sending a wave of jagged earth her way.

Out of instinct, Marjorie focused the power surging through her and directed it towards the Sword’s blade before bringing it down. The slash unleashed the gathered energy, generating a focused arc of silver light that cleaved through the surging earth, halting its advance. The energy continued to fly towards the Mother, who was still recovering from her attack, The larger Troll, the Father, moved in front of the woman and crossed his arms, which were now covered in rocks that channeled a yellow light. The arc struck the Father, shattering the rocks and knocking him off of one foot. He slammed the lifted foot back onto the ground before he lost his balance, triggering a tremor that Marjorie could feel beneath her feet. Aether surged through him as he clapped his hands together, its sound thunderous across the open field.

However, the sound was not the Father’s main intent, for as soon as the action was performed the ground around Marjorie surged upwards, threatening to flatten her between two mounds of earth. She leapt into the air as the masses of dirt and stone crashed into one another, her enhanced strength sending her to heights that would match the tallest building in Southsheer. She looked down towards the ground she just stood on, anticipating a follow up attack. Her attention was misplaced, she soon heard the earth shake as the Father charged forward, a tree now in his hand. Both yellow and blue Aether flowed through him and into the tree, and she could hear the creak of wood as it twisted and elongated itself into a longer, almost staff like shape. A staff that cracked with the ferocity and speed of a whip, for she was swatted from the air as soon as the improvised weapon had fully formed.

She felt her other arm snap as the staff struck her, the blow carrying through and slamming her into the ground where she felt the entirety of her left body shatter as it hit the ground. A blow that would have otherwise killed her, had she not felt the Sword’s energy flowing through her. That did not stop the pain, however, and she let out a soundless scream as she felt herself get stitched back together in a near instant, only for another part of her to break as the Father turned his singular strike into a barrage, destroying the very ground around her as he beat the ground like a drum. Through the thunder that raged around her, she could hear the Father’s wordless rage, bearing down upon her with a surge of Aether.

She saw the image of the young Troll running into the trees, the Father chasing as the child laughed. 

The same way Sarah used to.

The scream at her throat found a voice, and with it came another surge of Aether from the Sword. Her body restored itself faster than previously and she brought the Sword up, cleaving through the staff with only the barest resistance. She leapt from the crater that she found herself in, charging headlong to the Father, the Sword pointed at his head. The Troll brought up his arm, again covered with stone to block the blow. The Sword pierced through the improvised defense, but Marjorie could feel her body shake as the blow stopped at the bone. The Father struck her with his fist before she could further react, but she kept her hands on the handle like a vice, pulling the Sword free as she crashed into the ground, her body twisted and broken from both the impact of the Father’s fist and with the collision into the earth itself.

Before she had a chance to recover the Mother barreled down at her, her own fists sheathed in stone as she slammed them into the ground with blind range. Panic flared through Marjorie’s senses, and in that feared state she threw the Aether from the Sword out in front of her, forming a barrier that soaked the blows from the enraged Troll. Her body started to right itself soon after, but at a slower rate as the barrier remained up. She could see the Father charging at her, and even as her limbs popped back into place she could feel the tremble in them.

“This is all you are capable of?” The Sword asked, his tone steady, “I grant you power beyond comprehension and yet you still fall to beasts.”

“Shut up shut up shut up!” she yelled, the anger within her burning away the fear that clutched at her heart.

As her body fully restored herself the Mother’s reckless assault had ceased. However, before Marjorie dropped the barrier the matriarch dug her hands into the ground and pulled up. The earther rumbled, and Marjorie channeled the barrier to wrap her in an orb of energy before the ground exploded into dirt and stone. She remained unharmed, but was knocked into the air. The Mother held both of her hands out, Aether flowing from them and into the scattered earth, allowing her to manipulate like they were vines. She wrapped dirt and stone around the barrier and Marjorie could feel a pressure around her body as the earth started to squeeze against the shield, keeping her suspended in the air. 

Seeing that she was restrained, the Father grabbed the remains of his staff and forced blue and yellow Aether into its make, twisting it into thinner, finer, pointed stick. He threw the improvised spear at the shield, Aether still surging through its make. The barrier shattered as the weapon struck it, carrying enough force to continue its flight towards the Hawk. Marjorie caught the spear with the Sword, knocking it to the side. The force from the deflection blew her away as well, but before she could land dirt and stone wrapped around her, swallowing her whole into until her only her head was free. She looked down towards the Mother, whose hands were still raised, righteous indignation clear on her face.

Marjorie felt dirt and stone grind against her flesh as it squeezed her, and she could feel her ribs strain as the earth continued to press against her. She felt her skin rub raw, only for the power of the Sword to restore it moments later. The Father looked towards the matriarch, and the two shared a brief nod before the Mother clutched her hands together. Though the Hawk did not know what spell could have followed, panic had forced action, and she let the Aether from the Sword explode outwards from her. The force from the blast scattered her earthly restraints, and in her fear she had channeled the Sword’s energy back into the blade and did the only thing that her mind was telling her to do.

Swing.

It was wild, an attack that was no different than that of a wounded animal, but just as such assaults prove to be most dangerous, this swing carried an amount of Aether far greater than anything Marjorie could summon from the Sword before. She was not aware of how much, only that she needed it if she was going to live.

She must live.

An arc of energy surged from the blade, bearing down upon the Father, who was caught off guard by the sudden powerful attack. The Mother threw herself in front of the arc, arms crossed and surging with power.

The arc cleaved through her, severing her arms and cutting through her torso. The Father had no time to react as the arc carried forward, slicing his arm off at the shoulder.

Marjorie landed on the ground, panic settling to fear that shook her limbs, keeping her locked in place as she raised the Sword in front of her, only to stop as she saw the Father clutching the Mother’s body, the light from her eyes fading as she looked up at her husband. Words parted from her lips, but the sound of Marjorie’s own panicked heartbeat had drowned out whatever was said. The Mother’s body went limp, her eyes now vacant as they looked to the skies above.

Tears flowed down the Father’s cheeks as he clutched his wife’s body, unaware of the blood that flowed from his shoulder. He pressed his forehead against hers, his shoulders shaking from sobs that he failed to contain. The shaking soon stopped, however, and Marjorie felt the air around her grow still… cold.

She summoned the barrier in front of her just as the Father lunged, his eyes white with rage as Aether surged through his remaining fist. When it struck the shield, her vision went white.

She could see them, the Mother and the Child, hand in hand while the Father took hold of his son’s other hand. He looked upon his wife and son, on their smiles, on their laughter. He saw the wonder… the brightness in his son’s eyes that filled him with hope. He saw the calmness of his wife’s face, the kindness in her smile as she looked upon him.

The same smile that Lisa once wore.

“What have I done?”

Her barrier shattered, and all went black as the Father’s fist struck her.

Author's Note: Originally I was going to have a few more thing occur in this chapter, but I felt like that would make the pacing a bit too rushed for my liking.

So here we have the first "superpowered" fight of the series. I wanted to properly showcase the power of the Sword even in the hands of someone who barely knows how to use it, just to give some perspective on what it was capable of. At the same time, I didn't want the Parent's to be portrayed as a cakewalk especially with how Trolls were discussed before, so this was just as much a demo of a Troll's power as well as the Sword's, just to give some consistency within the world. I also wanted to properly explore Marjorie's headset here, as while the previous chapter allowed for inference of what could have happened I want readers to be very aware of what drives her so what she does its understandable. Understandable, but not justifiable, just so you're aware, and I hoped to hammer that in at the very end of the chapter here.

Let me know how it is! Till next time, have yourselves a wonderful day! :)