43rd day of scythe season 2448

As predicted, Argent woke up that morning alone in a room that would baffle any commoner. It was the one and only one of its kind available and it was often available because few people could afford it. Its four-poster bed was as luxurious as the one the warrior woman had at her home in the Nothar castle; it was large enough to comfortably accommodate four people. All this space for her and the young queen-to-be had to admit that she would have preferred to sleep under a tree in the forest with her fellow travellers. On the plus side, she had had a much-needed night's restorative sleep. Energized, she jumped out of bed and noticed that her laundry had been cleaned for her.

- I should wash myself too, she muttered to herself.

She did so, and on her way to the bathroom she met Zril. The assukar had his arms hanging down, his eyes lost and his complexion was dreadfully pale.

- Are you unwell? Argent asked.

- I'm fine, Zril grumbled as he continued on his way.

The brunette blinked, unconvinced by her friend, but decided to leave him alone. Anyway, she couldn't stand her neglected hygiene anymore; she had to wash herself. She spent a long time in a large public hot bath surrounded by a few other women. She was naked like some of them and it didn't bother her at all. Honestly, she enjoyed the experience of being among normal people and being anonymous. This status was not going to last once she assumed her new role.

Once reinvigorated, she dressed up, tied her long chestnut mane into a ponytail and went downstairs. There she found the same large room as last night, but at that early hour the atmosphere was quite different. The guests were calm, but above all, they were sober, and chatted softly over a lunch fresh of the kitchen's wood-burning oven. The aroma of fresh bread was pleasant and led Argent to catch herself drooling. She loved this time of day. This was normally, at her home, the time where the family was the warmest, their worries taken away by a good night's sleep. During supper, frustration often took over and it was the time of quarrels, especially between Azena and their father and Serus.

Argent spotted her group sitting at a large table at the back of the room, Bautog on one side and the two brothers in front of him. When the teenager approached, Shinko was the first to greet her. Zril, on his side, seemed in a bad mood, but at least he wasn't pale anymore. As she sat down next to the colossus, the latter was startled and almost dropped his glass of orange juice.

- Oh hello Argent, he said shyly, his face beet red.

- You're nervous this morning, remarked the storm girl.

- It was strange last night, Bautog explained, pointing at Zril.

- What exactly do you mean? the lady asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

Once again she noticed that the two brothers had no food under their noses. It was either they didn't receive any or that they didn't touch their plates. Did the assukars eat? There was no way they didn't. Any living thing had to eat.

- Too cuddly, said the colossus at last after a long pause.

- Cuddly? repeated Argent, who was trying to understand what his friend meant.

Bautog wasn't the best at expressing himself, of course, but he was also the most outspoken in the group. Whatever that meant, it was the truth.

- By the way, why don't you eat in front of us? she continued, addressing the two brothers.

- No reason, Zril grumbled.

- It's a very unique tradition of ours, Shinko explained, giving her elder brother a disapproving look. Don't worry about us. We've already eaten before you wake up.

Argent had to admit that she wasn't convinced, but she wasn't the type to meddle in other people's lives. Up until now, they'd proven to be trustworthy. If he'd had bad intentions, they would surely have bubbled up by now.

- Well, I'll leave you in peace. It's your way of life and I was just worried. Forgive the intrusion.

- We're quite mysterious, Zril sang with a little more spirit than before.

Argent laughed a little, but her joy was cut short when the rays of the two suns were blocked by an imposing shadow. There, on the other side of the rounded window that separated the group of friends from the outside, was a tall, muscular man wearing revealing armor of leather and fur. On his belt was a pair of hatchets and on his back was a huge bardiche. His skin was covered with smooth scars caused by blades and claws. This was the product of a life filled with fighting, cruelty and sacrifice. At first glance, he looked like Bautog, but much tougher and leaner.

- Brother, he grunted as he watched the colossus at the table.

Bautog seemed to panic. He dropped his glass of orange juice from which he was about to drink. The hairs on his arms stood up as he shivered. His breathing quickened and he clenched his fists.

- Brother no more! he said with raging passion. No more!

- The Legion! chanted his so-called brother. Legion is calling! Come with us! Glory! Blood! Dominance! Slay dragons!

- NO! roared the colossus who suddenly rose from his seat.

Argent guessed that the intruder was a member of the Dragon's Blood. It was impossible for her to know if he was Bautog's biological brother or simply a brother in arms. Either way, if the Dragon's Blood was here in the city, it wasn't a good sign.

- We forgive, insisted the intruder. Forgive to kill Chief. Chief not important. Let's go.

- No! Bautog roared, assured of his choice.

His face was now reddened with anger. He was about to burst. One more word from this barbarian and he would lose control.

- I think it's time to get out of here, Zril remarked.

- We have to help these innocent people, protested Argent.

No one answered, she assumed that the two brothers wanted to leave. In fact, the younger of the two seemed uncomfortable; he avoided meeting the eyes of the future queen.

- Shinko? asked her.

The cry of a woman echoed in the distance. That was the signal to start looting, but the barbarian was not ready to give up the hunt. He tapped the window with one finger and a smile appeared on her lips, dried by the cruelty of the desert.

- You capture escapee. New chief forget misdeeds. You have luck. Come back. Stay and you dishonor.

This was what Argent feared: other minions of the Dragon's Blood had tracked them here. Her heart wrung with guilt.

With a beastly roar, Bautog responded to the new verbal attack by climbing up to the table and jumping through the window, smashing the glass. Like a bolt of lightning, he fell on his victim, striking him in the skull with both fists.

Argent's first instinct was to fight, to help her friend, so she turned to the hostel's customers who were shocked by the scene of violence.

- Someone, lend me your sword please! she shouted to make sure she was heard.

She saw Zril and Shinko out of the corner of her eye who had drawn their little daggers. The elder Assukar rushed through the window to prevent a second barbarian from entering. Meanwhile, owner Wynne and his daughter Aphrya barricaded the main door with tables and chairs. Shinko, for his part, seemed hesitant between staying with Argent and going to help his brother.

- A woman doesn't know how to carry a sword! exclaimed a man who had answered the call of the future queen.

He had risen from his table, two long swords at his hilt.

- You could lend him one, Shinko suggested. Do you really need both? Teamwork wins against the lonely soul. It's a known fact.

- It would be a loss, grumbled the man. Find me a real warrior to fight by my side!

Argent walked forward with her head held high and her back straight as her mother had taught her during her lessons of nobility. She was aware of human culture: women were not trained to fight, and in her opinion, this was a severe loss compared to other races that were not as sexist.

- Sir, you don't even know me, she said sternly. Give me this chance and you won't be disappointed.

- Mrphhh, muttered the warrior examining the people around the room. Who can wield a sword here?

No one reacted except an old man who was clearly past the age for this kind of adventure. With his eyes barely open, he raised his trembling arm. He kept his balance by grasping the corner of the table he was sitting at.

- By my beard! said the armed man who was trying his best to ignore Argent.

The funny thing about all of it is that he didn't have a beard despite the fact that he had clearly been an adult for at least two good decades. He sighed, rubbing his chin as he thought about what he was going to do.

At the same moment, Bautog gave a plaintive cry and was pushed backwards. Now hanging on the broken window sill, his assailant held him firmly by the throat with his powerful hands. He intended to suffocate him. Argent had no more time to spare, so she drew one of the rude man's swords and charged silently towards the colossus. The barbarian who was threatening his life hadn't noticed and he was beheaded in one swift blow.

The headless body fell heavily to the ground and a fountain of blood escaped from the wound, staining the clothes of the future queen.

- Is this convincing enough for you? she asked, giving the warrior a nasty look.

She cleaned her blade with a piece of her clothing and reached out a hand to Bautog to help him get up. The colossus appeared about to to be about to burst into tears when he realized that Argent had saved his life.

- Thank you, he whispered softly.

- Be careful, the lady advised. Don't let your emotions get the better of you. That's what they want.

Bautog nodded. Meanwhile, the swordsman had approached the three friends and struck his fist on his heart as a sign of respect.

- My name is Tomak from the House of Florux, he replied as his eyes lit up. I would be honoured to fight by your side!

He tied up his thick black hair, which was unusual for Elthen, in a bun and prepared for the fight. His hair was just beginning to turn gray, which allowed Argent to estimate his age to be in his thirties. He was fit, slender, had a stern and disciplined attitude; he was most likely a soldier who was not on duty. He passed a dagger that was buried in his right boot to the teenage girl who accepted it gladly.

- In case you lose your sword, he explained with a wry smile. You know, I've only known one other girl with guts like you. Her name is Renora and she is a good friend of my eldest son Vorshienn. What a spirited soul, that one! She wasn't called The Tigress for nothing! During a quarrel, Vorshienn nearly lost his left jewel. Hahaha!

- His jewelry? Shinko questioned innocently.

- Forget it, said the father, chuckling. Anyway, we have citizens to protect! At my side, my valiant comrades!

Tomak seemed dedicated, courageous and honorable despite his sexist attitude. He seemed trustworthy. The soldier of Elthen wore but a simple tunic and pants, but that did not stop him from getting into the fray. In the streets of the city, invaders we're everywhere looting, raping and fighting to take lives.

Argent, Bautog and Shinko came out of the tavern through the window. The assukar went to help his brother who was surrounded by three armed enemies. Argent turned her back on the colossus who was already beating on one of his former brothers in arms with nothing but his hands. He was agitated, but his rage was under control, which made him much more efficient and cautious. For her part, the warrior lady avoided an attack that could have proved fatal by falling to her knees and swinging her sword, cutting her attacker's thighs with precision. The latter screamed, fell backwards, allowing the teenager to finish him off by piercing his heart with her blade.

- A quick death, said a man with a cavernous voice. Young lady, you possess a benevolent soul, which is a rarity among warriors who are usually so hardened.

The future queen turned to her interlocutor and found herself face to face with an imposing wood elf, even bigger than Bautog. Azena had informed her that the elves were rather slender and had fine features, but this one was quite the opposite. He looked like a bull; his features were severe, he was lean, but his muscles were bulging. He wore an obnoxious looking kilt with skeletal patterns on it. Other than that, he was naked. Still, he looked important, overconfident, and even more so, dangerous. Was he the "new leader" the barbarian was talking about?

- A prodigy such as you in swordsmanship, he continued with an almost seductive smile, I congratulate you. You impress me and that is quite difficult to achieve these last few days...

He turned his attention to his right, where two individuals were struggling against each other.

- Unlike these two idiots, he said softly.

That's when Argent realized that the gigantic elf had a weapon in his hands: iron gloves with sharp claws. In one short blow, he cut Elthen's defendant so deeply that he had no time to scream before his heart stopped.

When the head rolled down to the brunette's feet, she recognized her new friend Tomak. He was still frowning, lost in his fight to the death. Thinking of his family, of his son who would never see his father again, Argent gritted her teeth and raised her head to look at the murderer straight in the eye.

- You have no honor! she exclaimed dryly, paying little attention to politeness.

- We're in a war, not a game. You have the skills, yes, but your judgment seems slightly clouded.

She noticed that the elf returned her disrespect: he was now on first-name terms with her.

- What do you want from me? she asked. Who are you?

- Just to offer you my compliments... I suppose I could tell you my first name: Erurawin. What's yours?

The warrior lady hesitated, certain that sharing her identity with such a being was not a good idea, but she was honorable so she decided to take this chance:

- Argent.

The elf took a long pause. He seemed to be thinking.

- It's a name that is familiar to me, but nothing comes to mind, the shaman confessed.

Some of Argent's anxiety subsided instantly. Knowing that she was the future ruler of Elthen, he would surely have killed her on the spot. Without quite understanding why, Argent knew that she couldn't easily defeat this man and she couldn't afford to die, not now.

- Well, anyway, I'm a busy man, continued Erurawin. I wish you a good death, Miss Argent. I hope to see you again when I visit the spirit world.

He lowered his arms and began to chant an incantation, probably some kind of teleportation spell. It was there in front of her: the ultimate chance to get rid of such a monster. How reckless; it was strange. Perhaps he had sensed her fear and no longer saw her as a threat. Anyway, she had to kill him; she had people to protect. That was something she had long mastered: she recovered quickly from emotional shocks. She took her anxiety by the horns and tamed it by taking a deep breath.

She ran out with her weapon in her hand and remembered her own lessons she had given Azena about sword fighting: keep your cool, observe your surroundings, relax your muscles, keep your arms close to your body in case you need to defend yourself quickly, and above all, use both hands to grasp the handle to solidify your attacks. She followed all her own instructions and pointed her sword at Erurawin's heart.

As she was almost at the goal, she saw the shaman making a subtle movement with his fingers. A horrifying presence distracted her, and when she felt a great shiver run through her spine, she was forced to fight her instincts. This was supernatural and she had to get away, but she should not. She held her position and continued her charge.

- Argent, retreat! Shinko shouted behind her.

For a moment, the brunette thought she saw a transparent face that was both foreign and familiar to her: a bearded man who looked a little too much like her and was in a state of decomposition.

- My beautiful grandniece, he whispered in her mind before raising his voice. Run!

She was certain of it because of his distinguished voice: it was her great-uncle Cohennar. Unable to contain her emotions, she felt herself break from her position, but a little too late. The sword hit its victim, but the latter deviated from its target. Cohennar disappeared slowly, until he became invisible as if he had been sucked into another dimension.

- Arghhh! roared the sylvan elf with as much admiration as anger in his eyes. I am Erurawin, a shaman and I will not be defeated by you Argent!

Strangely, the latter had a hot flash. She hated the situation she was in, but being recognized by her visibly powerful and high-placed enemy brought her immense pride.

- You underestimated me! It's your own fault!

Erurawin grimaced in pain, grabbed the warrior lady by the shoulders and in a beastly roar, he pushed her away so violently that she was thrown a few leagues away. He pulled the blade from his upper torso and threw it cruelly against the battered corpse of its owner.

- Oh you almost had me! he roared with passion. What a rush of adrenaline you gave me!

Bautog got rid of a barbarian by knocking him out with a headbutt and rushed towards the pearl of his life. Shinko did the same. The two men helped each other to bear Argent's weight, allowing her to get up again.

- Not hurt? Bautog asked, his eyes wide open.

- I have a bad backache and I'm a little dizzy, but I think I'm okay, said the brunette.

She was only interested in Erurawin. The latter was bellowing orders to his henchmen while clutching the shoulder where the sword had reached him. Blood was slowly but surely spilling from the wound. He was slowly losing his temper and his anger was growing.

- What do we do, chief? asked one of the barbarians.

- Don't understand, replied a second, this one seemed slower than the first. Give more details.

- I told you to take revenge on those miserable bags of plague! the shaman spat vehemently. It's not complicated, even for you. Ah, forget it! I need healing... Retreat! Warn the others!

Zril stood to the right of Argent, folded his arms and cackled loudly to make sure Erurawin heard him. His plan worked, the wood elf fixed his attention on him.

- That's what happens when you chit chat with your enemy and don't pay attention, he laughed with a haughty smile, a superior canine tooth protruding from his mouth.

- Vile creature! replied his interlocutor. Kill the...Ugh....

He had made an abrupt arm movement and enlarged his wound. He grimaced in pain and clenched his teeth, which he exposed in a devilish expression.

- To me! Faithful of the Blood of the Dragon, to me!

A few henchmen appeared, some were covered in blood, others dragged a victim with them, but all of them went to their leader and surrounded him to form a protective circle.

- By the White Woodruff, Argent grumbled, disappointed that she could not finish off the shaman.

All around him were men built like oxen pointing their weapons straight ahead. It was impossible to reach their superior without having to kill a few of them.

- I'll try, Argent whispered to his companions.

- You're crazy, Zril replied. At least let us help you.

The cheeky Assukar may have had a bad attitude, but he still had some honor when he was in the mood.

- Bautog, charge and we'll support you, he explained. Argent, you'll pass the last. Go straight to the point and this time, don't miss your target! You'll probably only get one chance.

- Thank you, Zril, said the future queen sincerely.

- Well, don't mention it, grumbled the young Assukar. Well, come on Bautog, let's go. That pile of a shit elf is up to something fishy.

Indeed, Erurawin was still chanting a formula in a strange language. Whatever he did, it was not to their advantage to wait.

The colossus obeyed and rushed towards the Dragon's Blood henchmen, screaming all his anger out. With every step he took, the ground shook slightly. The two assukars followed him closely. Shinko threw a dagger at the face of an enemy while Zril clenched his hands in a strange position and then, a kind of dark energy came out of them and turned into a stream that attached itself to a victim. The victim screamed like a suffocating animal and suddenly collapsed, his skin now shriveled and his soul seemingly have to disappear.

- What the...? Argent murmured, her eyes wide open from the shock.

- Come on, Argent! Zril shouted.

The warrior lady didn't understand what had just happened, but she had the chance to kill the leader of all these henchmen and send them into a state of panic and, above all, without a commander. She rushed without hesitation towards Erurawin. At last, until powerful wingbeats distracted her. A skeletal black dragon appeared in the sky and lowered itself just enough for the shaman to cling to one of its legs.

- No! Argent roared as she returned to her original speed.

But it was too late and the behemoth was too quick. The latter hissed like a wild cat and gained altitude at an incredible speed.

- Not as fast as that clever bastard Tyath, the brunette whispered as she could only watch her luck slip away.

All the same, it was a dream come true show in its own way, despite the dragon's repulsive appearance. The citizens of Elthen were all amazed like children; surely most of them had never seen dragons before.

Argent was pissed off and moreover, she still had work to do. She met the gaze of her companions and they nodded their heads, giving her the signal that it was time to slaughter the rest of the henchmen of the Blood of the Dragon, which they did with prowess and the help of a few city guards.

Argent was the one who took and saved the most lives. Her swordsmanship was undisputed, and at the end of the sacking, the locals cheered as she saved a young boy from the clutches of an intimidating barbarian who nearly took his life.

- Queen Of The Sword! they cried out in unison. Queen Of The Sword!

- She deserves more than that! exclaimed the innkeeper as he approached the exhausted warrior, but at peace with her accomplishments.

- What do you mean, Wynne? questioned a rather elderly lady.

Argent recognized her immediately as the woman who was singing for the tavern guests last night. Her song came to mind and she felt a thirst for curiosity overwhelming her. She wanted to approach her, but Wynne put a hand on her shoulder.

- Queen of the Sword! The grand lady you see before you is the bride-to-be of Prince Kiojar! he revealed proudly. She will make a ruler who will go down in the history of our kingdom as a symbol of unity and bravery!

The crowd breathed a sigh of surprise followed by uncertain murmurs. A moment passed, and then most of them began to sing "Queen of the Sword" repeatedly.

- I owe my fighting skills to my great-uncle Cohennar, who gave me my very first lesson in weapon handling and discipline to my family, Argent said modestly.

The singer approached with a ray of nostalgia and bitterness in her eyes.

- I knew his blood was flowing into you! Cohennar lives in you! You are his legacy! I know the true origin of your family!