🌊Siren's Son🌊Oneshots

It Wasn't Your Fault

   Screaming. The first thing you woke up to. Then the sound of blades clashing. Horses racing through your camp. You grabbed your blade and headed outside, startled. By now the sound of screams has multiplied. 

   “Captain! Help us!” You heard. 

   Now you were racing outside just to be met with a sight that made you stop dead in your tracks. There were people wounded and dying alike, everywhere. You could see the people who were attacking your camp going through every tent. Clearly they were looking for something… or someone. 

    You caught glimpses of the noble crest of the house on their armor. The prince.

  It all made sense now. They were attacking your camp because he was so fragile he couldn’t handle being rejected. That and he would probably benefit from telling lies about this ambush. But they were looking for you. They wanted to kill you.

You could see one of the knights charge towards you. 

“Murder me you coward! Leave my people alone!” with one simple and graceful swing of your soward, the man fell. It was most likely that soon they’ll all be on your ass. You ran to the nearest people hurt and helped them to the best of your abilities. But just as you suspected, soon all the knights had lost interest in your people and had turned their attention to you.

You got as far away as you could from the wounded to keep them safe, but by doing that you had lost all of your possible soldiers to fight alongside you. Meaning that you’d have to fight them alone. Even for you
one against dozens was a pretty odd chance. But still not impossible. 

You would move your blade just as you had been taught years ago, the movements coming to you like second nature. You knew from experience that you could take on at least eight men at once. However, today was time to stretch that limit. 

Every now and again you could feel them get a swing at you, but nothing you hadn’t seen before until, you tripped. 

  It happened in an instant. First you could feel the aching pain of one of their blades striking your ankle. It wasn’t a small wound either. It was one big enough to send your blood rushing out immediately. The bone of your ankle had been twisted. You did something you hadn’t in a while. You screamed. 

  Then you could feel thousands of blades hurting your skin. You laid on the ground with the agonizing pain growing by the second. You defended yourself to the best of your ability, until you decided that the best thing to do was to play dead. The idiots were so stupid they didn’t even bother to check your pulse or if you were breathing.

   When you were certain they wouldn’t come back you went to where you left your people. There you were met with the corpses, wounded bodies of your soldiers, and worst of all, the heartbroken faces of their families. 

   Your fault. Your fault. It was your fault. They were in pain because of you. If you hadn’t rejected the prince they wouldn’t be in this much pain. It 's your fault.

  Your fault. Your fault. 

   You jolted awake with a scream. You could feel your heartbeat racing, and the blood flowing through your veins. You couldn’t come to your senses. Your vision was blocked by that horrible sight from nights ago, your ears only hearing your screams. Your mouth tasting the dirt, the smell of blood hanging heavy in the air. Your hands felt nothing, not your own fingers, not your face, nothing.

   You jumped in the presence of someone else. It had only been mere seconds since you had awoken. Awoken with a scream. You realized that you must have startled someone.