Killing for Peace (Fantasy SD 2.0 qualifying entry)

Arjamir fought his way up against the castle guards dispatching them with ease. Their pitiful training was no match for the warrior elf who hacked and beat his path through them.

When he turned around, he saw the princess of the castle observing him with a cocked head and an amused expression. An elf like him with pointed ears and a slender build. She removed her eye patch from her right eye and he stared at it, the swirly vines within it were calling to him. He lowered his sword slowly and would have heeded the call but suddenly shook his head and stopped. He raised the sword again, the quiver of arrows felt heavy on his shoulder without his bow.

“You have exceptional self control, elf, unlike your brother, though he was better looking.”

“Mere words will not defeat me, wench. I have to come to end you and avenge my brother and the kingdom.”

She laughed at him sending a chill down his spine, “ah revenge. That misguided heroic attempt to give the dead some semblance of peace. The dead do not seek peace from the living.”

She walked in a wide circle on the balls of her feet swaying her hips not taking her eyes off him. Arjamir followed her sensual predatory stalking with his sword. The evil smile never left her face as she studied him in detail: his stance, his warrior physique, his bald head and most of all: his fiery eyes.

“I like you Arjamir, brother of Hartmir. You possess a courage I have never seen, an anger I have never felt, a recklessness I would not expect from a prince. I will allow you to leave here alive in spite of the destruction you have caused. Leave now and never return.”

Arjamir seethed inside yet he kept his voice even and calm, “I am not here for your pittance, Alana. I came here to free Pyrrhon and return him to his kingdom.”

“Fool! Do you think returning him would stop this war? They do not attack the elves for the fear of losing their prince.”

“No Alana. They mobilize as we speak. They have given up hope of getting him back, they are going to burn down everything and make an example of the elves. Shun your arrogance and help me restore peace in our realm.”

She looked at him with disgust and shook her head, “coward! You are no different from those who came before you. You fear fighting a battle and make excuses for peace.”

“I will not sacrifice lives to satisfy the whims of a dark elf who has clearly become mad with power. It is evident in your eye,” he told her pointedly.

She let out a long breath, “very well. Let us settle this here then.”

Before Arjamir could respond, Alana shot a burst of energy from her fingertips towards his sword, it became too hot to handle.

“A fair fight,” she laughed.

Arjamir threw his sword down and made some incantations of his own loud enough for her to hear.

“Ah, protection spells. A warrior elf proficient in sorcery. Pity. We could have made a powerful pair.”

“That will never happen.”

In a flash she was next to him, throwing punches and kicks his way. It was all Arjamir could do to defend himself. She produced a dagger in each hand and slashed across his chest and arms. He hissed in pain and moved back, his body bleeding. She laughed evilly and closed the distance drawing wide arcs with the daggers.

Arjamir ducked under her outstretched hands and rolled sideways. He stood up drawing arrows in both hands. Just as Alana turned around with a powerful stab motion, he thrust an arrow at her neck completely piercing her and protruding from the other side, Alana had succeeded in stabbing him in the shoulder. Taken by surprise, Alana stepped back dropping her dagger. Using the distraction, Arjamir stabbed her through the head with the other arrow. With wide eyes, she fell face forward. Arjamir nudged her body with his boot and stumbled deeper into the castle to find the prisoner chained.

He removed the chains making the prisoner back off, spread its wings and bare its teeth.

“Relax Pyrrhon, prince of Dragonsclan. I am here to free you and return you to your people,” he said.

“You had to kill your own to save me,” the dragon observed.

The pain was becoming too much and Arjamir sank to his knees. The dragon prince helped him up.

Arjamir looked at Pyrrhon, “to preserve a peace, I was forced to do it. As I looked into her eye, I realized only one of us would survive and I knew there was nothing I could do about it.”

--The End--

(This is a qualifying entry for the magical_realms Fantasy SD. My first fantasy. Feedback is always welcomed.)