Very good, very good. I am all caught up and have enjoyed it thus far. Except, I have minor bit of criticism. As soon as I read *spoiler* Utgar had, past tense, a wife. I knew Jandar killed her. I also knew that Jandar would end up perpetuating the war through his own twisted logic. It seems to be an odd trend in your stories for Jandar to end up being the true evil. The guy can't catch a break in your stories.
"Hello my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die."~Inigo Montoya.
Very good, very good. I am all caught up and have enjoyed it thus far. Except, I have minor bit of criticism. As soon as I read *spoiler* Utgar had, past tense, a wife. I knew Jandar killed her. I also knew that Jandar would end up perpetuating the war through his own twisted logic. It seems to be an odd trend in your stories for Jandar to end up being the true evil. The guy can't catch a break in your stories.
Hmm... not sure how I can avoid the past tense though. I mean, I can't very well say he has one now.
As to the trend... I think it's due to the fact that Jandar's soldiers are more relate-able, and therefore make for better protagonists. Jandar himself therefore, being the one in charge, makes for an obvious secondary antagonist.
~TGRF.
Nearly a year ago, on July 28, 2014, BiggaBullfrog gave out a new prompt in the Fan Fic Competition. That prompt was to write a story about the natives of Valhalla: the kyrie. My mind instantly leapt to this tale.
I very nearly told this story then. It's probably a good thing I didn't, as I wasn't prepared, and this wasn't a story that could be squashed into just a few pages. I did try, however. Fortunately, I never got past the opening poem.
These are the last three chapters of The River that was Red. Before you get into them, however, I thought I would post that poem I wrote. If ntohing else, let it serve to get you fully into the mood for epicness.
I give you, the finale:
Quote:
Children are on the fields, laughing, rolling, having fun. Fish swim through the streams, splashing, slithering, in the sun. Birds fly through the sky, singing, soaring, in the air. Creatures run through the grass, galloping, trotting, to their lair.
But fires on the horizon do blaze. War approaches with deadly gaze. Smoking, choking, trees do fall; Crushing, slicing, and killing all.
Armies are on the fields, yelling, clashing, slaying foes. Bodies swim through the streams, lifeless, deadly, rotting clothes. Arrows fly through the sky, stinging, arcing, in the air. Warriors run through the grass, hunting, searching, glassy stare.
Book Four - Chapter Three
The Path Chosen
Spoiler Alert!
“Soldiers of Valhalla! Defenders of freedom! Knights of righteousness! Hear my voice! I call to you now, not as your general, not as your king, but as your friend. Long have we fought against the evil horde that now stands before us. Long have we held the monsters at our doorstep at bay. But now the time has come for us to fight them one last time.
“I will not lie to you. This will be the end. There is little chance that we will win this fight. But we will prevail. We will give those that follow us something to fight for. When they look back on history, they will not see that we turned and ran. They will not see that we cowered with fear before our foes. No. No, they will see that we stood straight. They will see that we faced the devils arrayed against us, and drew our swords as one. They will see that we fought with a conviction undampened by fear!
“If you are still willing to fight for what you believe in, draw your swords. If you are still willing to follow me to the depths of the underworld, draw your swords. If you are ready, ready to face your enemy one last time, draw your swords! Let me hear your voices!”
On that day, a shout went up as had never been heard in Valhalla. Its equal had never existed, and never would again. On that day, the last of the alliance drew their weapons, and charged, as one foe, towards the overwhelming mass that opposed them. On that day, the final battle of Valhalla was fought.
Raelin had seen ferocity before. She had witnessed murder, and beheld pain. But nothing, nothing she had ever seen, could compare to what now unfolded about her. Every last soldier knew this was the end. Nothing was held back. Order was gone. Ranks were gone. It seemed that the caring soldiers Raelin had once known were gone as well, replaced by terrible bloodthirsty warriors.
There was no front line. The armies mixed, warriors cutting through foes until they were cut down in turn. All semblance of order disappeared. This was no battle. This was not even a war. This was a mindless killing, a chaotic self-destruction that could never be stopped. It sickened Raelin to be in the midst of it.
It did not take long for Jandar and Utgar to find each other. They saw each other from opposite sides of the battle, and both strode forward, batting enemies out of the way. All attacks against them withered, all defenses against them were insubstantial. They approached with a determined step, and as Raelin watched, she knew that Valhalla’s fate was about to be decided before her very eyes.
At that moment, however, something happened that distracted Raelin. Two individuals clashed in front of her, ruthlessly slashing with their swords. Those two individuals were directly in the way of Jandar and Utgar. They were Drake Alexander and Cyprien Esenwein.
Raelin smote the ground with her spear, protecting Drake. Cyprien lunged at her, but Drake pulled him back in with his grapple arm. Cyprien brought his blades down, but Drake deflected them with his sword. The two warriors moved almost too fast for Raelin to follow. Their faces were masks of concentration, coupled with fury.
A flicker of blue caught Raelin’s eye. She turned just in time to see Mallidon, her own brother, diving at Utgar. Unfortunately, Utgar saw him at the same moment, and raised his axe, ready to strike Mallidon from the sky. With a sudden jolt of fear, Raelin realized that she was too far away to protect Mallidon with her spear. It was at that point that several things happened at once.
With an unearthly scream, a band of black orcs burst through the chaos, charging straight for Raelin. Their weapons were jagged and covered with blood, their fur dirty and matted. They screeched and howled, baring their sharp teeth as they ran at her. At the same moment, Utgar swung his axe at Mallidon, who was going too fast to dodge the blow. Raelin didn’t waste another moment.
She threw her spear, with all of her might, at Utgar’s axe. It struck the axe, bounced off, and landed point-down, quivering in the ground. And then a blue force field burst from its tip, just barely encasing Mallidon. Utgar’s blow was deflected, and the force of the shield cast by the spear slammed into Mallidon, flinging him away from Utgar.
And then the orcs arrived.
Raelin received so many blows at once that she was instantly overwhelmed. Blades rebounded off the entirety of her armor. Those that made it through sank into her stomach, shoulders, arms, legs, chest, and face. She went down in a spray of blood, trying desperately to shield her head with her arms.
The orcs were relentless. She managed to kick a few, and one she impaled on a jagged piece of her armor, but they shrugged off her attacks and continued to beat her. The ordeal lasted for a full ten seconds. In those ten seconds, Raelin was fully conscious while the orcs continued to hack her body into an unrecognizable form.
And then Mallidon arrived. He crashed into the orcs with such a scream of rage that Raelin was temporarily afraid he had come for her, rather than them. The orcs immediately turned on him, but Mallidon welcomed them. He swung his hammer in wide arcs, not caring how many blows the orcs struck him with. One sword went straight through his armor and ripped through his chest. Mallidon yanked it back out, flipped it around, and plunged it through its owner.
However, there were at least twenty orcs, and Mallidon could not kill them all. They eventually overpowered him simply by mobbing him, and he quickly went down in a mass of black fur and swords. Raelin could no longer see Mallidon beneath the pile. And then, one hand, grasping a war-hammer, emerged from the pile, swinging the weapon furiously. An orc saw it, and promptly cut it off.
Raelin screamed. It was a mixture of shock, fear, and fury, and it was a scream she instantly knew she never wanted to make again. That scream, however, proved to save Mallidon.
Something very large and metallic slammed into the ground beside the orcs. A moment later, Drake flew into the pile, reeled in by his own grapple arm.
Now the orcs had met their match. They scattered in true panic as Drake leapt from one to the other, slashing, stabbing, killing without mercy. His face was red with blood, and his mouth seemed to be locked in a silent yell of rage. His eyes burned with bloodlust as he slew orc after orc.
Raelin watched him as if she were not a part of the battle. Her Drake, the Drake she had come to love. His uniform, once green, was now ripped and torn, splashed with mud, burnt with smoke, and steeped in gore. His skin seemed to run with blood. His sword dripped with it.
Raelin’s gaze shifted to Mallidon. He lay on the ground, cradling the bleeding stump of his arm. He lay in a pool of his own blood, and the red liquid had totally saturated his clothes. Blood seemed to leak from beneath his armor, and his face was unrecognizable beneath the orc gore that covered it.
Raelin then looked at herself. Her armor was all but gone, slashed and crushed so cruelly that it couldn’t have stopped a wooden dart. Her entire body was smeared with her own red blood, and much of the orcs’ black blood as well. Her hands shook as she stared at them, steady streams of blood running from the fingertips.
Raelin looked back at Drake. He was viciously dueling the last of the orcs. So this is the price of peace, she thought.
From nowhere, Cyprien flew at Drake. Raelin cried a warning, but she was far too late. Drake turned to face Cyprien, and the vampire triumphantly plunged both of his swords, to the hilt, into Drake’s heart.
Drake’s sword fell to the ground. He staggered backwards, and glanced at Raelin. Her shock was mirrored in his eyes, along with something else: fear. Just a hint of fear, that this was the true end.
Drake sank to both knees, and then fell face-first into the mud. Cyprien kicked him onto his back, and wrenched out his swords. In that moment, Raelin saw Drake’s still face. It was calm now, calm like it had been the first time she had seen it. The only difference was that the eyes were open, staring, lifeless.
Raelin could not scream. She could not cry. She could not even breathe. She could only stare, unbelieving, at Drake’s body.
Mallidon, despite his injuries, surged to his feet, wrenched his war-hammer from his severed hand, and wielding it in his remaining one, flew at Cyprien. Cyprien dueled him lazily at first, and then with more concentration. Mallidon landed one blow, and then another. He blocked Cyprien’s swords again and again, always answering with an attack of his own. It was then that Jandar joined in the fight.
Pointing his hammer menacingly at the two combatants, Jandar fired a lightning bolt of pure white at Mallidon’s hammer. The bolt struck, the hammer glowed and vibrated with heat, and Mallidon swung it directly at Cyprien’s head, knocking aside his swords with ease.
The blow struck. Cyprien let loose one unearthly scream, and then exploded into shards of the darkest smoke. At the same moment, Mallidon collapsed on the ground, all of his strength gone.
And with that, Utgar and Jandar finally met on the field of battle. Power blasted outwards from the two Valkyrie as their weapons met again and again. Soldiers who came near, either to aid or to injure, fell to the ground, senseless. Magic seethed about the two foes, battling back and forth as they dueled. Sparks flew from their weapons, illuminating their bloodstained faces with flickering lights.
But the battle could not last. Jandar was younger, despite his appearance, and Utgar was more experienced. In the end, Jandar made a mistake, and Utgar drove his axe into his side, opening up a deadly wound. Jandar crashed to the ground, blood soaking his armor in seconds.
Only as Utgar raised his axe to deliver the final blow, did Raelin notice Kelda. She was injured. Her face was white with loss of blood, and her armor was tattered nearly as badly as Raelin’s was. She had darted forward behind Jandar, and now laid her hand upon his shoulder. A blue spark leapt from her fingers, quickly followed by a tide of blinding magic. Jandar leapt to his feet, fully healed.
Her job done, Kelda smiled briefly. She then fell sideways, and lay still upon the ground, affording Raelin a clear view of the arrow in her back.
For the second time that day, Raelin let loose a terrible scream she never wanted to hear again.
His face livid with rage, Jandar punched Utgar in the stomach. The red Valkyrie stumbled backwards, and Jandar kicked him. This time, however, Utgar blocked the blow and brought his axe down against Jandar. Jandar locked the weapon with his own, and they struggled against each other. They were equally strong however, and the same idea seemed to occur to them both at once. They drew back, and their weapons began to glow. Their faces, masks of terrible hatred, were revealed in the arcane light as they poured every ounce of magic they possessed into their weapons.
Raelin knew what they were about to do. They were about to destroy each other. Both would die. As the weapons of the Valkyrie began to shake with ill suppressed power, she crawled forwards, her eyes bent on only one thing. A few moments later, she wrapped her fingers around the shaft of a spear – the Spear of Gerda.
And then, ignoring the terrible pain it caused her, Raelin stood, and flung the spear straight at the two Valkyrie. She wasn’t sure what she hoped to accomplish. She wasn’t sure if anything could be accomplished. But she had to try.
Three weapons struck. Jandar and Utgar plunged their weapons towards each other. The tips met, just as the point of the spear struck them.
The Spear of Gerda exploded. Both Valkyrie were flung backwards, as was Raelin. Blue magic raced from the spear in a shockwave of force, knocking anyone who was still standing down. It spread over the entire army, and then continued on, exploding over the hills to the north and south, felling trees to the west and east. And then a second, more powerful burst of magic blasted from the shattered spear, erupting over the toppled warriors. It struck Raelin hard, flung her to the ground, and she knew no more.
The battle had ended.
Chapter Four
Fate of the Innocent
Spoiler Alert!
Raelin woke from blissful sleep to an agony of pain. At first the pain of her injuries overpowered her, and she could not breathe or move. But after a few moments of lying still, though the pain did not lessen, she was able to force herself to open her eyes.
It had been dark with twilight when the battle ended. Raelin was confused therefore, for she found herself staring into a vast blue sky. A small cloud, moving quickly, passed across her field of vision, and then left. Raelin blinked. The sight remained. Could it possibly be the next day? Had she been knocked out for that long?
Blood leaked from her wounds as Raelin struggled to sit up. She failed, but did manage to prop herself up on one elbow. It was enough to see the pile of bodies about her. It stretched for a sickening distance. So it was real then.
Raelin heard a faint sound, as of gently trickling water. She wondered what it could be, since there was no river nearby. And then she saw that the sound was made by a river: a river of blood, weaving through the desolated army, and passing on to the south.
Two figures rose from the piles of corpses. One gripped a crushed and bent axe. The other held a shattered hammer. Both were blackened, as if they had been at the epicenter of an explosion.
Jandar and Utgar staggered towards each other, and met half way. For nearly a full minute, they stood still, staring at each other. And then Jandar knelt. Raelin saw that his pride was gone. “If you will accept my hammer, Utgar,” he said, “I will surrender to you.”
Utgar looked at the hammer, and then at Jandar. After a moment, he pushed Jandar’s hammer away. “There is no need for surrender. This is not victory, for there can be no victor after such carnage. Let it be known that the war of the wellsprings is at an end. It ended not through defeat, not through victory, but through peace.”
Raelin smiled. Utgar held out his hand, and helped Jandar to his feet. “Let us rebuild this world together,” he said.
Jandar stared at Utgar in disbelief for a moment. But then he put his hands on Utgar’s shoulders. “I would like that,” he said.
“NO!” Not far away, a ruined frame of a kyrie burst from beneath a pile of corpses. The kyrie held a spear in his hands, and raced towards Utgar and Jandar.
“Valkrill!” Utgar commanded. “Stop! The war is at an end!”
“No!” Valkrill screamed, launching himself at the two Valkyrie. “The war cannot end! Revenge is stronger than peace, and always shall be!” he landed in front of Jandar, and thrust his spear at him.
Raelin didn’t think. She wasn’t even aware of moving. She launched herself from the ground, forcing her tattered wings to fly with her one last time. She sailed neatly between Jandar and Valkrill, taking the spear destined for her Valkyrie. The tip cut deep into her chest, and she fell to the ground.
Utgar and Jandar pounced on Valkrill. Raelin never saw what happened to him, however. The only thing she saw was the body she had landed next to. It was Drake’s, his eyes staring into the blue sky, his body horribly cut by Cyprien’s swords. She heard a cry she recognized as Mallidon’s, and turning her head painfully, saw him rushing towards her from Kelda’s broken corpse, her blood on his remaining hand. She felt her own blood pooling beneath her, and knew that she had already lost too much. Blackness threatened to envelop her. This is enough blood, she thought. Enough blood for my father. Enough pain. More than enough. The blackness closed in, and Raelin left the world of conscious thought. Only one sentence continued to echo in her mind: Never again… will I seek revenge on another.
Chapter Five
Winter Fades, Spring Returns
Spoiler Alert!
Valkrill’s spear had held a deadly poison. Jandar had done all in his power to heal Raelin, to draw the poison from her beaten body, but it had already gone too far. The most he was able to do was repair her injuries, and buy her a little time. She was expected to die within three months’ time.
Almost every last soldier and beast that had taken part in the Final Battle was dead. The final death count was too large and too gruesome to recount. The survivors, of which there were few, were all severely injured. Over half died within a week, unable to be fully healed.
Utgar and Jandar, determined that their legacy should not be one of annihilation, put their armies to good use repairing the damage that had been wrought on Valhalla. Villages were rebuilt, and families reunited. Those that wished to be returned to their worlds were sent back, and then Utgar and Jandar personally saw that every last wellspring was sealed, until a way could be found to destroy them. No more wars would be fought over them.
Winter turned to spring. The fallen were buried. They were all laid to rest with honor, but none was more highly respected than Drake. After attending his funeral, Raelin returned to Jandar’s rebuilt castle. Her time was almost up. She was ready to die. If by her death she could finally achieve peace, a world without pain, then she considered that something well worth dying for. She was a little late, but soon the war would claim its final victim.
Soon the poison took her legs and wings. Unable to move, Jandar fashioned her a chair that used magic to float just above the ground. Confined to this, knowing that the end was near, Raelin requested that Mallidon take her to one final place, before she left Valhalla forever.
They arrived at their old village just as the apple trees were coming into blossom. It was one of the first that had been rebuilt, with the result that the families Raelin had grown up with had already returned. Children ran through the long grass, laughing as they chased the pink blossoms that floated so gaily through the air. Kyrie flew gently through the skies, drinking in the beauty of the restored world. The sky looked brighter, the grass greener, and the world richer, than Raelin had ever seen it.
Mallidon took her down to the river she had played in as a child. It had been named the White River for the clearness of its waters. Raelin remembered, on the night the village was attacked, how she had looked at the river in the dawn, and seen that it was red, red with blood.
But as she looked at the river now, she saw that it was clear once again, white and shining with the new day. She slipped from her chair onto the bank, and gently dipped her fingers into the water. It seemed warm to her touch, gentle and comforting.
“The war is gone,” she said softly. “Peace runs in the waters once more. Peace and forgiveness.”
As she knelt there, her hand in the water, something happened that she could never have expected. It was gentle, slow, almost a caress. She felt something within her pulling, breaking, drawing away. A faint cloud of blackness exited into the water from her hand, and was swept away.
“What was that?” asked Mallidon.
Raelin smiled. She knew what it was. She could feel that the poison within her had been drawn out, cleansed.
By the River that was Red.
May 29th, 2015, 12:04 AM
4 dayz
TAF was the Storyteller... 
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