Work Text:
CW: Blood/light gore
The beast in front of her slammed its sword into the ground, narrowly missing the woman as she dodged.
The woman in front of the beast would grunt lightly, a shred of her uniform getting torn off by the close call. It only fueled her rage, swords glinting the sun’s rays in different directions as she swung at the beast. So fast, again and again, the motions a blur to both herself, the beast, and anyone who might be watching.
The beast slammed its sword down again, countless pounds of heavy muscle weighing down on the guard as she met the swing with both of her swords. She was quickly brought down onto one knee, trying to keep up with the unmatchable strength of a lynel, fear flashing through her grey eyes as the sword got closer and closer to her. Her arms shook, knee getting pushed further and further into the ground, until suddenly it shattered. She released a gut wrenching scream of pain, and even more noises that would shred the ears of anyone watching as she was pushed further and further down. Her bones cried out for help, every muscle in her body screaming to move or she would be dead in just a moment.
She moved as quickly as she could, swords flying out of her hands, and as she thought she had escaped from under the lynel’s sword, a burning feeling spread across her whole body. The lynel attempted to pull the sword out from where it was deeply embedded in the ground, and the guard watched silently, her vision getting patchy and foggy as she watched the beast. She shook her head, forced to crawl over to her swords, her leg limp and rendered totally useless. Wordlessly, she aimed at the chest of the lynel with her sword, the chest that she had struck at and worn down the defenses of throughout the battle. Praying to all the goddesses above, with the last of her strength she hurled the sword, observing as it struck the beast in the heart once more. The beast roared, throwing its weapon at the guard (causing her to roll away quickly, crying out in pain again from the collision against her injuries— unknown and aware of injuries) as it slumped to the ground, disappearing in a black puff of smoke.
The guard just laid there, hand feeling the pool of blood forming under her. Confused, she looked down at her burning torso, to see a deep gash (that, from what she could tell, had cut through quite a few layers of muscle) from her shoulder down to her waist. A thousand thoughts went through her mind, of her parents and the people she had fought to protect. Her weak gaze drifted to the village off in the distance, the one that had unknowingly been the destination of the defeated lynel and the other monsters it had brought with it, the whole horde of monsters that had been brought along. She tried to call out for help, her voice weak, and then attempted to crawl towards the village, but found that it cost her greatly, with pain and loss of energy alike.
A sad look crossed her face, as she desperately tried to reach her sword, just one of them. She had heard awful rumors, after all— Warriors have to die with their weapon in their hand, lest they be doomed to walk these lands for eternity.
As her hand grasped the handle of one sword, she sighed in relief, though the thought crossed her mind that she should have both weapons. Though, as she spotted her sword far too many feet away, she accepted that she would die before she even made it there. So, in her right hand she held her father’s sword that she’d been gifted, looking into the blade for the memories she attached to it.
“Please be careful out there. You’re so young, so full of potential. This isn’t it for you. You’ve got a whole life ahead of you. Don’t give up, not even when you’re weak and beaten and you just can’t take it anymore.” The old woman said as she stood behind the newest member of the Royal Guard, hardly an adult, a tender smile for her granddaughter as they looked in the mirror. The old woman glowed around the edges, an aquamarine tint to her, a surreal aura given off by her presence.
“I’ve got this. Don’t worry.” The guard told her, smiling softly even as the spirit faded away. The advice stayed, however, and she kept it in mind as she strapped her swords onto her back for the first time as a Royal Guard.
“I… can’t… move.” She whispered softly, feeling her pulse slow down as she laid there, unable to see hardly 5 feet in front of her as her vision darkened. “I can’t…” She coughed up blood as she tried to speak, the color leaving her face and eyes as she laid there.
As her vision left, and her pulse slowed, she heard a distant voice saying something, muffled to be deaf to her own ears.
—
Soft orange candlelight painted the wooden walls of the small room, the quiet chirps of crickets outside and the distant quiet chatter of a few people in the marketplace outside being the only sounds in the room. A small bed along with a nightstand were the only pieces of furniture in there, a guard in a coma-like state laying on the bed, shifting more than usual this evening.
Her hand twitched, then her eyelids, and before long they opened to reveal a weak pair of grey eyes. They blinked a few times, adjusting to the light. The owner let out a sigh, breathing in the air in confusion. As she observed the small room she was in, the dreamlike candlelight glow, the wooden walls and door. Even the slight bit of the rug on the floor she could see seemed… off.
I’m dead, aren’t I? She thought to herself, going to sit up, but stopping herself as a sharp pain shot through her body.
She looked at the bandages wrapped tightly around her torso, the makeshift cast around her leg, and other bandages around her hands and wherever else she had been wounded. She looked, frankly, quite beaten up. Even her face didn’t look good at all, a nasty gash on her jaw left open to the air. Still, it was far less intense than the injury across her torso, which she had decided she didn’t even want to see. She laid back down, accepting that she would not be able to sit up, much less walk.
Instead of trying again, she marveled at her survival. She thought she had been deader than dead, left out in that field to die, but… well, a villager must have come to get her. She hoped no one had been hurt, even if she’d killed the horde and the lynel leading them. There was always a chance of one or two monsters slipping into the village, after all. For her to manage to not let anything of the such happen would be quite the feat, considering she’d been alone, having instructed the guards of the town to stay back and take position at the gates for if anything slipped past her swords. She hardly believed she could kill everything.
Though, the sound of the marketplace was hopeful. It helped her to believe that she had managed to save the village. Almost died doing it, but what was that, if it meant those lives had been saved? As all these thoughts ran through her head, once again she found herself tired, hungry, and thirsty. But her vocal cords didn’t seem to want to work.
Instead, she fell asleep slowly, noting that her swords had not been seen anywhere in the room.